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kiwi-bitchez · 1 year

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Like Magic

Eddie Munson x Reader, 18+ mdni

Summary: Incredibly troupey enemies to lovers smut. The gang takes a trip together and a game of never-have-I-ever creates a new tension between you and Eddie. The classic "no one has ever made me come'' situation. A bit overused, but it still gets me every time. Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, drinking (all characters are 21+), kind of Asshole!Eddie but not really, fingering, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), Eddie has a dick piercing because I said so, piv sex, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl this is just fanfiction, Eddie has big dick energy in this one, I said what I said, rough-ish sex but Eddie's def more of a soft dom here, a few pet names (princess, mostly), spelling/grammar mistakes, corny ending

Word count: 14k (oof… got a little carried away with this one besties)

Steve said it would be a getaway. A trip dedicated equal parts to celebrating Nancy's first big article getting published and to cheer Steve up after having been dumped by his most recent situationship. The former was the initial reason to take the trip but after finding out about Jessica or Jamie or whatever her name was you had a feeling the latter was the true motivator. Either way, Steve had found a cheap cabin up by a lake and had pitched the trip as a fun way to "get in touch with wilderness." You had a feeling it was going to be more drinking and board games than hiking and fishing, but that was fine by you.

It was nice to put in for the time off from work and have something to look forward to. A week away with your friends. And Eddie. It's not that you didn't consider him a friend... well, you didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying on your end. You'd use the term friendly acquaintance. A person with whom you share several close friends but for some reason refuses to be friendly to you- that kind of friendly acquaintance. Okay, maybe the word friendly was a bit of a stretch.

There was an odd tension between the two of you that you couldn't quite figure out. When Robin had introduced you to her friends from high school, all staying very close over the years, you immediately hit it off with them, easily integrating yourself into their quirky dynamic. Even though Eddie sort of stuck out like a sore thumb among them, you never treated him any differently than you did Steve or Nancy. You liked that their group was so mismashed. You had made it a point to not to turn your nose up at him for any reason, expecting he typically got that reaction from those who didn't know him. At first you actually found him to be quite charming.

There was just a certain coldness he had towards you that you found off putting. Knowing what little you did about him, entirely through Robin's introductory ramblings, you could understand why he might be wary of new people. It was that you had put in an effort to get to know him and be friendly that had upset you when he didn't return the sentiment. Not only did he treat you with a certain dry curtness, but he seemed so warm and loving to everyone else. He'd ruffle Robin's hair, bear hug Steve, share a cigarette with Nancy when she was especially stressed and tell some long winded story that had her cracking up and forgetting why she was ever tense in the first place. You didn't expect immediate closeness, but a little bit of that warmth from him would have been nice.

The awkward tension between the two of you manifested as joking jabs that hit a little too close, sarcastic remarks and rolled eyes. If he was going to go out of his way to push your buttons, you had no problem doing the same. It never ruined the energy when you'd all hang out as a group, but it was an underlying feeling you could't ever seem to ignore, as much as you'd tried. So this trip was going to be a celebration for Nancy, a distraction for Steve, and a challenge for you.

The cabin really was a great find to credit Steve. You had all pitched in a little money to cover the expenses and were pleasantly surprised when you found out there were actually enough beds for all of you, a half decent kitchen, hot water, nothing special but certainly nothing to complain about either. You had access to a small dock and a beat up canoe, a little fire pit out back, the basic necessities for a half decent vacation. That, supplemented with the box of booze Steve had lugged up from the car and all of your excitement to let loose was sure to make for a good trip, if not at least a memorable one.

You had all scoped out the digs, poking around the shed outside and unloading all your stuff from the cars. You felt somewhat settled in and ready to slip into vacation mode right as the sun began to set. Steve and Nancy had taken care of bringing groceries for the week, unpacking a week's worth of dry pasta and snacks into the dusty pantry. Steve took it upon himself to cook a small meal for everyone in the kitchen, nothing fancy but still appreciated given the minimal kitchen setup, always the mom of the group. Eddie messily makes himself a rum and coke, offering Robin one as well and blatantly ignoring your presence. Not that you wanted a stupid rum and coke from him anyways. He hands her the drink and you avoid eye contact and push past him to fix a drink for yourself, quickly shuffling off to check if Steve needed any help in the kitchen.

"Too many cooks in the kitchen, y/n," Steve places his hands on your shoulders and backs you out of the small space, "go relax, I think I can handle boiling pasta by myself."

You were mostly trying to avoid the living room where Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were all settled, but Steve was right, the kitchen was far too small for you to be taking up space while he tries to cook for five. With a sigh you make the short journey over to the couch, wedging yourself next to Robin and quietly sipping on your drink, making a mental note to make the next one stronger. You easily fall into conversation, listening to Robin tell some story about when she and Steve used to work at an ice cream shop years ago, some exaggerated memory she kept referring to as "mint-chocolate-chip-gate," easily pulling laughs from all of you.

Hours later, empty plates scattered around the small makeshift dining area, a few more drinks in your system, you had hardly thought about Eddie at all. You'd managed to avoid his snippy remarks for the majority of the evening, both relishing in the good feeling of the start of a week off. It was always when you felt the tension slip away that it came back harsher than ever. The five of you crowded around the small table, playing cards shuffled into a messy deck. Robin had started a never-have-I-ever game, although childish, still fun and silly as none of you took things too seriously.

"Never have I ever," she searches her brain for something riveting, "faked an orgasm."

You and Nancy give her a fake-annoyed glance and take sips from your cups, not a huge surprise on anyone's part.

"Not fair Rob," you say, looking up from your cup, "just because you only have sex with women doesn't mean you have to target those of us unfortunate enough to be attracted to men." You and Nancy laugh.

"Sounds like the unfortunate ones are the guys you're sleeping with," Eddie mumbles. You shoot daggers from your eyes at him, "I'm just saying, how can you expect it to be any good if you're not being honest."

"Fuck off," you roll your eyes, "I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of more than one faked orgasm, Munson, it's kind of a universal truth for all women."

"Well I don't know if I'd say that-" Nancy interjects, "universal truth is kind of a big claim."

"Never have I ever," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to change the conversation, "accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into my coffee while on a first date and was too embarrassed to say anything so I just drank the salty coffee and suffered in silence."

"Oh my god," you burst out, everyone giggling, "that was such a pointed attack! I'm never telling you anything ever again!" You take a sip from your drink, being the only person in the group who has experienced that oddly specific situation.

"If you all are going to target me with the knowledge of friendship then I'm coming for all of your asses," you set down your drink and try to think of something that will surely get them to all drink, "Aha! I know, never have I ever had an orgasm during sex with a partner." Your mind was sort of still in the gutter from Robin's statement, and you knew for sure you'd get them all with this one, you knew that you were in a slim minority with that fact. It wasn't that you choose bad partners, well, that was sometimes part of it, but you just couldn't get to that place when someone else was doing it to you, only ever by yourself. You just figured it was a slight abnormality, and had resigned to a life of solo play and half decent but never truly fulfilling sexual encounters.

Steve groans, annoyed you brought the conversation back to the sexual topics he had previously steered the group away from, taking a drink alongside everyone else.

"Ha!" you gloat while everyone takes their long sips, "knew I'd get you all there. Keep trying to come for me with my oddly specific embarrassing stories and you'll all be sorry in the morning."

"I don't really think having a shit sex life is anything to brag about, y/n," Eddie snips at you.

"I'm not bragging, it's the whole point of the game to get people to drink, stupid," you shoot back, starting to regret revealing that level of personal information to him.

"Well maybe if you weren't so busy faking your orgasms you'd actually chill out for long enough to actually have one," he hurls back, the thick tension settling between the two of you.

"Jesus, Eddie, mind your own fucking business," you feel blood rushing to your face and your jaw tenses up.

"You were the one who brought it up, sweetheart," you hated how calm his voice still was, raising his hands up in fake defense, "never have I ever NOT made my partner come."

"Oh fuck off," your voice was seething, "you can't say that. There's, like, no definitive way to prove that's even true!"

"No, I'm pretty sure I know it's true," he was so fucking smug and it annoyed you to no end.

"OKAY," Steve breaks the awkward silence that had settled around the rest of the group, "I want to play cards, what do we think? Cards? Anyone?"

'Yeah, whatever,'' you felt bad if you had accidentally ruined the fun everyone was having, but it wasn't your fault Eddie decided to be such a dick about it. You help Steve shuffle the cards and start dealing, letting the heated energy dissipate around you as you wiggled your way back into normal conversation with everyone.

Several rounds of cards and a few drinks later the night took hold of the group and sent Nancy off to bed, Robin off to search for some advil that she knew she'd be grateful for in the morning, and Steve mostly asleep slumped in his chair at the table. You gently shook him awake and he grumbled a thank you and a goodnight as he dragged his body down the hall to his bed. This left you and Eddie with a half decent mess between the drinks, the aftermath of dinner, and the cards. He had started to gather the cards back into their deck while you debated on taking care of the dishes or putting it off until morning, ultimately deciding that tomorrow-you would be very thankful if tonight-you sucked it up and just cleaned up now.

"I got the rest," you start picking up everyones mostly empty cups and moving into the kitchen to tackle the mountain of dishes. Jeez Steve, how many pots does it take to boil pasta for five people? "Night, see you tomorrow," you say without turning back to look at Eddie.

He came up next to you and grabbed the dry towel off the counter, taking the soapy cup from your hand and wiping it away before stacking it on a clear part of the countertop.

"You wash, I'll dry, yeah?" he's already moved onto the next plate you had sponged down.

"It's really fine Eddie, I've got it," you appreciate the sentiment, but didn't like feeling so cramped standing with him in the small kitchen.

"I have manners, you know," he makes a harsh gesture to the dishes, urging you to get on with washing, which you do, "plus I'm not gonna let you take all the credit for cleaning up after everyone, you aren't anyone's mother or maid here."

You weren't really sure how to take that, but decided to ignore it as you continued to scrub away, silently handing him the dripping dishes as you finished cleaning them.

"I know you don't really care for me," you start, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between you, "but can we please not make Steve and them regret inviting us both? Like, I know you're capable of being civil. I just really don't want to spend this whole trip walking on eggshells worrying that we're ruining the fun. So, this is me apologizing for anything I do this upcoming week that pisses you off for whatever reason, just know I didn't do it on purpose, and it's not worth freaking out over. I'm just trying to have a good time here, that's all."

You really couldn't tell if you felt relieved or more anxious after saying all that to him. You meant it. You really didn't want to drag any unnecessarily tense baggage around with you while everyone was just trying to enjoy their trip. You wanted him to know this, at least to feel like the blame was off your back if he was a dick to you, at least you tried to clear the air on night one.

"What? Still got your panties in a bunch over that game?" you didn't have to look over at him to hear the smirk in his voice, "Because I remember you were the one getting all in a huff about it."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," you turn over sharply to look at him, "please just stop being such an asshole to me."

"Learn to take a joke, sweetheart," he had been drying the same mug for a little too long now, "that stick up your ass is probably the reason you can't reach the big O."

"Please, for the love of god, fuck off," you tried to not raise your voice too much given everyone's sleeping state, "What do you want me to say? Hmmm? 'Oh Eddie, I'm so jealous of all those girls you make come with your magical guitar fingers, oooooooooh, please pick me'." You roll your eyes and prepare to storm off to bed when his whole posture shifts in front of you.

"Magical guitar fingers? Hmmm?" he's really making you regret saying that, even sarcastically, you start putting the rags away, wanting to just finish up the dishes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. "You said it babe, not me."

"You're so insufferable," you bring your fingers to your temple, Eddie Muson manifesting as a special form of personal headache.

"This is exactly what I'm saying," he mockingly gestures to you, "you're the one always getting so worked up over nothing, I'm as cool as a cucumber, I think the problem might be you."

"Is everything a fucking joke to you? Can you really not be serious for three fucking seconds while I try to be straight with you about us getting along on this trip?" Your grip on the dish towel tightening.

"Me? Joking? About something so serious and romantic as having precious y/n her first orgasm with my 'magical guitar fingers' that she so obviously fantasizes about? I would never." He clasps his hands across his chest, always the fucking jester.

In a moment of white hot rage, and wanting to put him in his place, and only a tiny fraction fueled by your physical attraction to him, as much as you've tried to fight that off, you march the three steps in between the two of you and grab his wrist in your hand, holding his hand up in between the two of you.

'Fine, do it then," you maintain harsh eye contact with him, your faces only a few inches apart, "you won't. Better yet, I don't even think you could."

For the first time, you felt as if you had the upper hand, you had never rendered him speechless before. He always had some snippy comeback to everything you said, at a rapid fire pace that was honestly impressive given how subtly clever his remarks were.

"You wanna bet?" He cocks his head at you, trailing behind just a beat slower than he normally would.

You just raise your eyebrows and glance down at his hand, still in your grasp, lips pursed and voice secretly caught in your throat.

"You just say the word," he starts, voice slightly softening, "and I bet you that I can make you come using just this hand- scratch that, just these three fingers," he lowers his pointer and pinky, leaving his middle two and thumb sticking up, "in less than five minutes right here in this goddamn kitchen."

"Yeah, for what?" were you seriously considering this? Why were your thighs clenching together?

"I make you come, and not only do I get to live in your memory forever as the first idiot who had the sense to make you finish, but you're gonna be so sweet to me the rest of the trip. Make my drinks, fetch my lighter, roll all my joints with those cute little dexterous fingers of yours, be nothing but pleasant and lovely without the slightest hint of attitude." His words made you fume, but you were also inexplicably turned on, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke sending tingles down your spine.

"And when you can't, what then?" you tried to match his level of composure, but the gleam in his eye told you that he saw straight through your facade.

"If-" he starts, "you manage to hold out on me and I can't get that pretty pussy of yours to gush all over my super magical talented guitar fingers, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip. We never bring it up again, or you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives, totally up to you. But I'll be so civil and polite you'll hardly recognize me the rest of this trip."

You let your grasp fall from his wrist, holding your unsteady hand out to him to shake, "Deal."

He truly thought you were bluffing up until this point. When you had first met he had been impressed with how sharp you were, how you managed to meet his level of sarcasm so easily. At least he thought you had been sarcastic, after a few fumbled interactions he got the vibe that you weren't joking around with him in the jabby-playful way he was. If he was honest wit himself, he knew he sort of used this as a defense mechanism when meeting new people. Put up the walls and if they didn't like him, that was just fine.

The tension in the air was as thick as it had ever been between the two of you. You refused to break eye contact, refused to let him win. As much as you'd like to think this would be an easy way to put an end to his snarky attitude, there was no denying that a large part of you was excited, if not intrigued at the prospect of him touching you like that. Eddie was hot, you had never denied that. But the butterflies in your stomach and slight buckle of your knees indicated a little bit more than surface level attraction.

Breaking the handshake he takes a few purposeful steps forward, backing you against the nearest counter. He places a hand on either side of your body, caging you in, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear, voice low and raspy.

"We doing this, babe? You say the word and I'll let it go now, but otherwise I'm gonna need you to unbutton those cute jeans for me."

There was no way in hell you were turning back at this point. You try to give him your best 'fuck you' expression and say, "Can't even unbutton my pants, how the hell are you gonna make me come?" Regardless, you follow his request and unbutton your pants, and better yet, slip them down your legs to let them pool at your feet.

You were still locked in between his arms against the counter, closer than you had ever been to him. As your pants hit the floor, you notice his gaze flicker down to get a look at you, then quickly back up to your face. All the while he had shifted over slightly, arm now fiddling with a dial on the stovetop. He was setting a timer, cocky bastard. He adjusts the stovetop cook timer to five minutes and casually hits the enter button, as if he had nothing to prove, as if the few extra seconds meant nothing to him.

He brings his attention back to you, knowing you were fully aware of the timer he had just set. Rather than plunging his hand straight into your already dampening underwear, his first move was surprisingly to bend down slightly and cup the backside of your knee, lifting one foot out of the pant leg that was scrunched around your ankles. From the crook of your knee, his hand slowly moved up your thigh, giving it a squeeze, acting as if he wasn't on any sort of time constraint. As promised, once he reaches your underwear he only uses one of the three promised fingers, running the tip of his middle digit along the top elastic of your panties, quirking an eyebrow, looking at you for one last assurance of consent before the two of you crossed the line. You give him a curt nod, knowing what his questioning glance meant, and with that he dips his hand into your simple cotton underwear.

Once again, you almost expected him to just shove his fingers inside of you and get on with it, but he took several long moments to run his middle two fingers up and down your slit, never entering your hole, but collecting some of your wetness and dragging it up to massage the hood of your clit gently. You wouldn't have been surprised if the oven timer went off at any given moment. It felt like he had been touching you for far longer than five minutes, despite only forty seconds having been passed. He continued to gently roll your clit between his fingers, placing one on either side of your bud and just letting them slowly massage it back and forth.

You were slowly losing control of your composure. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction, but a shallow gasp that you were sure he noticed escaped you. You mentally prepared yourself for a comment from him, a chuckle or signature smirk. Eddie never shut the fuck up, you wouldn't have been surprised if that was true in the bedroom too, or in this case, the kitchen. What did surprise you was the breathy "Good girl, that's it" he mumbled into the side of your face as he increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, "just like that, relax for me, doing so well."

Fuck.

Your body responded to his words before your mind could make the conscious decision to, and you melted back into the countertop slightly with an exhale. His foot wedged in between your legs slowly slid them open a bit more, letting his ripped denim clad leg settle in between yours, his hand sinking a bit lower and slowly entering you with just his middle finger. The hand that wasn't occupied with your pussy gently came down to toy with the band of your still-on underwear, gently tugging them down as he managed to slip his second finger into you.

"That's it," he began to curl them ever so slightly, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him, "your pussy's so pretty, so good, sucking my fingers right in."

His two middle fingers were sunk all the way into you, and he was moving them in a way that had you involuntarily drop your jaw and let shallow whimpers out with every roll and thrust. This was entirely different than anything you had ever experienced before. Up until now, 'getting fingered' for you was an annoyingly uncomfortably forplay where your partner would shove a hand in and out too fast just to make sure you were wet enough to proceed with the act. Eddie wasn't even bringing his fingers out of you, he settled them in and wiggled them around until he noticed your breath catch, and just let them push into this spot that you didn't know you had. Your own fingers never could reach that deep and his were filling you perfectly, thumb toying with your clit, not too hard, but just enough to add to the sensation. Damn, he was good at this.

When his fingers finally hit that new spot inside you your body reacted with a subtle roll forward of your hips and your head fell back to rest against the cabinets, eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. "Mmm, there it is," his voice was still gentle against your ear as he continued to make you gasp and squirm, "anyone ever find this pretty little spot inside you before?" He let his fingers slide all the way out of you, spreading some wetness from your hole up to your clit with a few circular motions before sinking back down inside you.

You were biting the inside of your lip, no longer trying to hide your reactions from him, but trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake anyone in the cabin up. You wouldn't dare answer his questions out loud in your state, but you give him a quick shake of your head to indicate that, no, no one had ever touched you quite like this before.

"Such a fucking shame," he increased the pressure on your clit, not increasing speed at all, but just curling his fingers a little harder, swirling his thumb a bit more deliberately, "bet you'd make such gorgeous noises for me too, can't have anyone wake up and find us like this though, yeah? Those pretty little whimpers are for me only."

Why were his words doing more to you than his hands? Not that you had any complaints about the care and attention he was giving your center, but his face pressed so close to you, letting out sweeter words than you had ever heard from him, that was what was making your walls tighten around his two fingers. Your mind had completely slipped away from the timer, no longer questioning whether you had three seconds or three minutes left, all you could do was feel.

There was a soft squelching coming from where his hand made contact with your pussy, wetness coating his fingers and spreading to your thighs with each of his shallow thrusts. While you would typically feel a little embarassed, hearing your own arousal only turned you on more, that along with Eddie's soft "mmmm, that's it" and "good fucking girl."

You were starting to feel it, that familiar tightening. Familiar, but so different from when you got yourself there. It was the difference of jumping into water versus being pushed in. When you jump in yourself, you have time to build up the courage and the cold water is less of a surprise and more of an inevitability. This was as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder and could fling you in at any moment, entirely out of your control. You feel your head start to spin, your walls start to tighten.

Before you could let the tightening band in your lower half snap, any thought of purposely holding back and trying to not come for the sake of the bet was far gone, he takes his unoccupied hand and harshly tugs on your chin. Your head had started to roll back, pressing against the cabinets for support, eyes fluttering shut as you almost reached your peak. You were jolted back to reality as he cups your jaw and forces your head to stay upright.

"Eyes open," your impending orgasm teetering right on the edge, you would do anything he said in this moment, "you're going to keep your eyes open and look at me while I make you come." His words with a few more expert swipes of his thumb against your throbbing clit had you gasping for air. It was truly unlike any orgasm you had ever experienced.

You tried your best to follow his directions, keeping your eyes as open as you could, maintaining eye contact with him through your high as your mouth dropped open and your moans caught in your throat, silently shaking and thriving as the tension in your body eased out in waves of pleasure. His gaze burned into you, fingers keeping such a steady and consistent pace as you rode out your peak. Mumbled phrases escaped him and only made your orgasm last that much longer. Why the fuck was Eddie Munson calling you "pretty girl" making your legs shake? This shouldn't be happening. That had never been a turn on before, none the less coming from a man you typically found insufferable.

With the last pulse of your walls you found yourself acting on pure adrenaline, you completely blame the endorphins for your next action. His hand was still firmly planted on the side of your head and your thoughts were spinning so fast, you had to ground yourself, and your body decided that lurching forward and kissing Eddie was how you were going to do that. Fingers still slowly rolling inside of you, thumb now coming to rest on your overstimulated clit, he was taken aback by your action, but leaned into the kiss and swiped his wet tongue through your bitten swollen lips as you melted into him. As soon as you felt fully entangled in him, completely consumed by his hands, mouth, scraggly hair, all of him. You jerked back, quickly apologizing, "Fuck, uh, sorry, I-"

He slowly drags his hand out of your drenched thighs as you try to find words, bringing his two fingers up between his lips to suck them clean. You wanted to moan out at the sight but were still scrambling to figure out what the fuck just happened. He casually leans over and pauses the oven timer with a beep.

"Hey, 4:20, nice!" you roll your eyes at his immature comment, "we have forty more seconds on the clock, wanna go again?" he jokes.

You were so far beyond caring about this bet, you had way bigger issues to tackle than having to wait hand and foot on Eddie for the rest of this trip. You awkwardly pull up your wet panties and readjust your pants around your legs, not sure what to do or say.

"Was that good? Better than when you do it yourself?" he asks, sarcasm indetectable in his voice but you were sure it had to be there.

"Do you actually care to know or do you just want to hear me say it? Fine Eddie, you win. You have magical sex fingers and made me come in like three minutes, congratulations. It was great, the best orgasm of my life. You were right, you told me so."

"Well that's great to hear and all but I wasn't looking for an ego boost or anything, babe," his tone was lighthearted and you weren't expecting it, "I just know it's like wayyyy different for me when its my hand versus another person, not to mention the difference between all the holes and whatnot."

"Gross!" you laugh and scrunch up your nose, not noticing how he was pouring you a glass of water.

"I'm just saying!" He holds his hands up defensively as he silently hands the cup to you, "I've never experienced a female orgasm so I just wanted to know if it was any different than when you use the showerhead."

"Oh my god I-" you start, in between gulps of water.

"Oh, don't even start," he cuts you off, "we both know that all girls do that, don't try and be all shy with me now babe, I know what your 'oh' face looks like."

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and you bury your gaze down into your almost empty glass of water. "Yeah Eddie, it was different and it was better. Your fingers rank higher than the jet setting of my shower head, do you want a trophy?" This sort of banter usually had a sharper edge to it between you, but there was a new softness and humor to the way you communicated. Maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for you, because you were so desperate that you came from three fingers on a kitchen counter in less time than most top forty radio hits.

"I'm glad it was good for you," he says, almost sincerely, "night sweetheart." With that he turned around and exited the kitchen, keeping his composure all the way down the hall until he could burst into his room, rid himself of his clothes, and pull his cock at the thought of how you felt wrapped around his fingers, the little whimpers and noises you made, how you looked right at him as you came, how you kissed him afterwards.

You were left somewhat dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty cup in your hands, looking around as if something else was going to happen. You weren’t expecting him to invite you back to his bed for a cuddle or anything like that, but you had just experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life followed up by some joking conversation and a friendly cup of water? It just didn't feel right. Then again, who the fuck has their first orgasm from someone else while being timed.

You didn't regret it though. You actually felt a sense of relief. While you were pretty aware that your past sexual partners had been a bit selfish or underwhelming, a part of you had always wondered if that part of you was broken. If there was a part of your brain that would never let you reach that vulnerable state at the hands of someone else. That you would only ever trust yourself to let go and feel that kind of pleasure. Nope. Not broken. Definitely not broken.

You feel like you're in a trance as you walk back to your room, shower, slip into pajamas and drift off to sleep. You started to wonder how the energy would be between you and Eddie in the morning, but as soon as you gave it any thought your brain decided it was time to shut down. You'd deal with it when it happened.

Your head still felt cloudy the next morning, processing the sexual high and confusing social situation you now found yourself in. You knew one thing for sure, you'd never be able to look at Eddie again without thinking about last night. Suddenly the thought of him playing guitar, shuffling a deck of cards, smoking a joint, all felt inherently sexual to you despite never having that connotation before. You were fucked.

What's even worse is when you tried to rub one out in the shower to ease some of your nerves before going downstairs for coffee all you could think of was comparing how your hand felt to Eddie's. It's like he put a stupid curse on you, that all your orgasms would now feel half hearted. It's like you were hungry and were served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when you could smell a chef preparing a five star meal in the room over. Sure, a PB&J is fine, but now that you've had fine dining it just didn't quite cut it. On top of that your newly corrupted brain couldn't help but theorize about what else Eddie was capable of. He made you come in basically four minutes with three fingers. As soon as you let your mind wander you pull yourself out of it, make the shower as cold as your body can stand, and gear up to face the music, or at least put on an awkward front in front of all of your friends.

You were the first person in the kitchen, but you heard a fair amount of shuffling going on around the creaky cabin so you suspect your friends will be down soon. You take it upon yourself to put on a full pot of coffee and survey the pantry for breakfast options.

"Morning, y/n," Steve greets you passively, eyes clearly set on the coffee that's almost done brewing.

"Oh wow, did you do the dishes last night?" Nancy inquires, her and Robin taking their places at the table while everyone waits for the coffee to finish.

"Oh yeah, it was nothing. Eddie and I did it, only took like five minutes," you wince at yourself.

"Were the two of you up real late?" Steve questions, "I tried to get him up a minute ago but he was knocked out."

"Oh," you start, relying on pouring coffee to everyone as an excuse to not make any eye contact, "I'm not really sure, we were only really up for like ten, twenty minutes after you all went to bed. Maybe he stayed up late in his room." None of it was a lie.

"Whatever, let him sleep this beautiful day away," Steve's whole demeanor changed after a single sip of caffeine, "I say we go down to the dock and check out that canoe, maybe have lunch on the dock? Could be nice."

A murmur of agreement among the group settled the plans for the day, relaxing by the lake, doing exactly what you had intended this trip to be about. You all scarfed down quick breakfast and coffee and separated to change into swimwear. You hated that you thought of Eddie as you picked out your swimsuit. Did he even see you like that? When he called you pretty last night, was that all part of an act to win some stupid bet? You'd be better off assuming so, you decide, you don't want to get wrapped up in your own thoughts about how he thinks of you only to be totally wrong. But you secretly did hope that he'd check you out at least once.

You sprawled out on a big towel on the rickety dock, letting Robin, Nance, and Steve figure out the canoe. It didn't look like it could comfortably for more than two, and three was pushing it, so you decided to sit this one out considering the lake water looked a little murky. You set yourself up comfortably with a glass of lemonade and a book you were halfway through, letting the sun sink into your skin and illuminate the pages as you squinted at the words through the sunshine. You could hear their friendly bickering off in the distance, their canoe now a tiny speck off on the horizon of the lake. You could occasionally hear Robin shriek as Steve threatened to tip them all over.

You felt the dock creek behind you before he said anything, not bothering to turn around from your comfortable position, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Eddie. He made his way down to your towel, inviting himself to plop down next to you and dip his toes into the lake below. He was only in his boxers and a ratty tshirt, a mostly full cup of black coffee sloshing around in the mug he held.

He made you nervous, not sure what the energy would be like between the two of you now. You almost felt worried that nothing would have changed at all. You ignored the buzzing in your abdomen and kept your eyes on your book as he kicked up the lakewater and sipped his coffee next to you, seeming comfortable in your mutual silence.

“Reading anything good?” you knew he’d be the one to break the silence, ever the chatty Cathy. You were surprised at the genuine question rather than a smart remark or joke at your expense.

You told him what you thought of your current read, filling him in a bit on the general plot. Part of you decided that you no longer had the right to give him the edge you usually did. He had won the upper hand fair and square and you were willing to accept that. You could play nice, play by his rules.

You felt like your conversation was going well, or well enough. He asked to see your book, which you willfully handed over. You’d regret doing that. He dog-eared the page you were on and quickly set your book off to the back of the deck before moving at lightning speed and scooping you up and hurling you through the air and into the lake water. What the actual fuck was his problem.

Before you could even register the cold lake water you emerge from your splash and gasp for air. You don’t even have a moment to find where the dock is to cuss him out before you see his cannonballed form fly above you and crash into the lake next to you. His shirt and coffee were abandoned with your book and he emerged from the water with that stupid goofy smile.

That stupid goofy smile that made you less mad that he had thrown you in the lake. What was wrong with you? You should be pissed. Why did his annoying antics suddenly make you feel giggly? You knew exactly why, but wouldn't allow yourself to think about it for longer than a moment.

“Eddie you bitch!” you splash him as soon as you can locate him and that stupid smile. You couldn’t help but smile too. He knew you wouldn’t stay mad. The two of you play-wrestle for a moment, splashing each other and taking turns pushing the other under the lake’s surface.

“I was reading,” you continue to protest.

“And now you’re swimming!” He splashes you again, “We’re on a lake trip, y/n, not a library trip.”

You debated swimming out to where the canoe was, but mutually decided that sounded like too much work. Instead you took turns jumping off the dock and diving down to the bottom of the lake for rocks and other random junk. Eddie even found an old boat anchor.

Once the other three came in from their canoe adventure you all ate packed sandwiches for lunch in the sunshine on the dock. You couldn’t help but take in the moment, knowing you'd be nostalgic for it in the future. You were surrounded by some of your best friends without a care in the world, only focused on pb&j sandwiches and who was going to make the fire later.

After a backyard bonfire and several failed attempts at roasting hot dogs on sticks you all started to slow down and let the day in the sun take you to bed. You showered the feeling of lakewater off your skin and out of your hair with lots of soap and as hot of water as the cabin would allow. You thought you’d cozy up in bed and read some more of your book, or even crash right to sleep, but a nagging feeling kept pulling at you.

As sleepy as you wanted to be, and as interesting as your book was, your mind couldn’t pull itself away from the idea of what Eddie was doing down the hall. It was late enough that the others were probably asleep, you probably should be too. After rereading the same sentence four times you decided to abandon your book and just follow your curiosities.

Before your better judgment could stop you, you lightly knocked at Eddie’s door and cracked it open. You peek around the sturdy wooden door to see him propped up on the headboard, shirtless with a giant book in his lap. His lean chest and arms were littered with random tattoos, nothing you hadn't seen before swimming or when he wore those unbuttoned and ripped up shirts that he often did, but this time you couldn't help but stare at them.

“Sure just come right in,” he comments with a joking tone as you peek around the corner of his door.

“Sorry, sorry,” you half whisper through gritted teeth, “I just-”

You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You just what? Were curious about what he was doing? Wanted to see him? Wanted to know what he would say if you came to his room?

To your surprise he shifts to the side of his bed and opens a space next to him, lifting the sheet that covers his lower half and patting the space next to him. Your eyes widened in surprise a bit before you moved a bit too enthusiastically across the room and settled onto the mattress next to him.

“Hope I’m not bothering you,” you start, genuinely feeling bad if you were intruding.

“You? Not at all. I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings eighty times or so,” he turns over the enormous book in his lap.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could read,” you immediately felt bad, but knew your tone was joking enough to be permissible.

“Very funny,” he sets the book on his nightside table, turning his attention to you. You suddenly felt a spotlight on you, a sudden stage to explain the reason you showed up in his room. Truthfully you didn’t have one. Or, you didn’t have the words to tell him why.

“I-” you start, noticing how small your voice sounded, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Is that so?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, I just-” you still don’t know where you’re going with this, “I just wanted to apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t like you. I know we kind of go back and forth a lot, but I never really meant to make you feel like I dislike being around you. I just want to start over with you, if that’s okay?”

“Is this because you know all the rumors about my magic guitar fingers are true,” he smirked and leaned his head into yours, an action that would typically make your blood boil that you now found endearing.

“No- well yes- but no,” you couldn’t help but be flustered, finding yourself fidgeting with the hem of his sheet that you had tucked your feet under, knees pushed up against your chest, “I just thought that things were going to be really awkward between us today, or that you were going to be a huge asshole to me. But I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been fair to you, and maybe you weren’t fair to me either, so it would be nice to start over?”

“Do you want to start over right now, or do you want to start over, including last night?” He already knew that even if the two of you ‘started over’ neither of you could forget, or even pretend to forget what had transpired in the kitchen. You let out a sigh. You were thinking the same thing.

“Up to yout,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ll leave and never bring it up again, but I can't pretend like I haven’t been thinking about it since it happened.”

“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Shut up, you know it is,” you bump his shoulder with yours.

“Is it because you touched yourself and realized it didn’t feel the same?” his voice grew deeper, and you could feel his gaze pressing into the side of your face, “or because you imagined it was my fingers between those pretty legs of yours.”

You couldn’t help your head from falling back against his headboard and eyes to find solace in the ceiling before gathering the courage to answer him. His face was already inches from your neck, all you needed to do was close the gap, but a part of you was still worried.

You look tentatively into his eyes, big and brown and drawing you in, but you don't let yourself lean in all the way. You had initiated the first kiss between you two last night in the kitchen and had been shaken with worry that you had crossed a line. You didn't want to embarrass yourself again, so you held back. What if he thought that was too intimate? You hoped he didn't. Even though it had left you tense and anxious, kissing him was just as memorable as the orgasm he had given you. You remembered how his mouth tasted, how he slipped his tongue past your lips immediately, how you didn't have to think about anything other than how he was making you feel.

Eddie, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that he'd left you a bit high and dry last night. If he was being honest, he wanted to stay in that kitchen and kiss you over and over, offering to take you to bed, his bed. He left for two reasons: he wanted to maintain whatever aura of mystery and intrigue he had garnered by making you feel so good, the tensions were high and it felt right to keep the game up, Eddie enjoyed the cat and mouse, back and forth that the two of you had, and this had taken it to an incredibly fun and elevated state, and he had to leave to release his cock from the confines of his pants. If he was going to fuck you, he was going to fuck you right, and if you had stayed in that kitchen any longer he would have either busted in his pants or promptly three seconds after you made any sort of move on him.

He knew you were nervous. That you found him hard to read and unpredictable. That's probably why the two of you never really got along, and he knew it. He knew that the orgasm he gave you was the most pleasure you had ever felt, and that you hadn't stopped thinking about it for a moment since. It was written all over your face. He couldn't blame you. If he had never had the pleasure of climaxing during sex or at the hands of another person he surely would be in a spell over it too. He knew you needed to be taken care of, and that he had proved himself to be trustworthy of doing so.

While you were caught in your own head debating whether Eddie would kiss you or not, it only takes him a split second to crane his neck around to meet your face and catch your lips in a kiss backed by purpose and intent. He knew how to read your body language. Eddie grew up worrying what everyone around him was thinking of him, or what they were planning to do to him/ He knew how to tell when someone was angry or upset or disgusted. An arch of an eyebrow or a twitch of a hand could mean the smallest things, things that always came back to bite Eddie. He also could tell that your breath was caught in your throat and you were overthinking still, he knew to let the kiss linger for a moment and let you find your footing before deepening it.

The moment he feels your shoulders relax a bit and your head lean ever so slightly into his, he cups the sides of your neck with his hands. Those hands. Littered with tiny stick and poke tattoos and those clunky metal rings. Who the fuck wears jewelry to bed? You had taken note of how his rings had felt shoved down the front of your underwear the night prior, and now you relished in how the distinct metal felt against the soft skin under your jaw.

Last night you kissed him in the heat of the moment. Now he was kissing you. Really kissing you. Tugging on your bottom lip and running his tongue across yours until your stomach felt like you were on the dip of a roller coaster. Kissing you until you were breathless and your cheeks began to run hot, until you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, or could hardly remember where you were or what time it was. You would have traded every sexual experience you'd had for what he did to you in the kitchen last night, and you'd trade every kiss up until now for the one you found yourself in.

His hands were in your hair, and his lips moved from yours, now wet and pouty, down to your neck. He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked against your skin, gently tugging your hair in the direction he wanted to open your neck up for him. When his bottom teeth dragged across a particular spot in between your jaw and ear a soft moan escaped your lips. You immediately sucked in a sharp breath.

"MmmHmmm," he mumbles into you, still attacking that spot that had elicited the noise, "let me hear you."

You let out a groan and moved to straighten your neck, wanting his mouth on yours again. The hand in your hair kapt you exactly where he wanted though, now using a touch more force.

"You wanna know a secret?" the hand not in your hair ran up and down your rib cage underneath your shirt, trailing from the band of your pants up to the underside of your breast and then gently back down, "Do you know what you do to me?"

"Mmmm, no what?" you could hardly recognize your own voice, now pitched up and airy.

"Those pretty noises you made for me, and the thought of you wrapped around my fingers has been driving me crazy all day, y/n. Do you know what I thought about while I jerked off last night? Those moans, and that pretty cunt you have, and the gorgeous face you made when I got you there. It's all I can see when I look at you now. It made me come so fucking hard last night and it's gonna take a lot of time and illegal substances to make me forget it."

You wiggled your hips up into his touch, wanting him to move faster but knowing he was going to take everything at his pace whether you liked it or not. "Fuck Eddie," he sucked on your earlobe and continued to bite against your soft skin, "you think I'm pretty?" You sounded fucking pathetic, you wouldn't have caught yourself dead asking any boy that, let alone Eddie before tonight.

"Pretty? I think those little moans you make are pretty. And that cunt you have, prettiest I've ever seen. That little bikini you had on today, that was pretty too. You wear that for me?"

"Maybe," you gasp out as his hand dared to venture lower, still over your pajama pants but dipping up and down where he knew your wet slit was.

"Sure, lots of things about you are plenty pretty, but fuck," he loved how responsive you were, already rolling your hips against his hand despite the layers of fabric preventing you from getting what you really wanted, "You? you really are somethin' else."

He could tell you were tired of his teasing, so in between kisses he tugs your shirt up and lets you pull it over your head. He presses your warm skin against his, using all his strength to stay in the moment and feel how nice your tits feel squished up against him, rather than immediately ravish you. He'll get to that, he knows you deserve his patience.

“Just-” you gathered your thoughts, “tell me you want me too, that this isn’t some sort of power trip or pity fuck. I don’t want it if this is some game to you.”

His heart sank a bit at your inquiry, worried that you thought of last night as some sort of power trip for him, although that was what the two of you had framed it as, a power play. He knew there was something deeper and hoped you had felt that too.

“Of course I want you. As much as it was nice to put you in your place, you brat, I didn't make you come to prove anything. I made you come because I wanted to.”

“Will you do it again?” your voice was barely a wiper, your neck craning around to meet his intense gaze.

“Again with my fingers,” he shifted so you were now slumped beneath him, his leg slotting comfortably between yours and his hands coming to cup your cheeks, shoulders angled above yours and hair creating a perfect curtain around your faces, “and my tongue, and my cock,” he leaned down to kiss you, “and all the other ways you’ll let me show you.”

You were a mess. A puddle of arousal and swarming thoughts of nothing but Eddie. Your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his beautiful curls, massaging the nape of his strong neck. The most passionate and enthusiastic kiss you had ever participated in. You were on fire for him. Any former doubt or worry that the actions of last night had on you dissipated into the air along with the breathy moans you couldn’t help but let out in between kisses and touches.

His knee pushed your thighs apart and you willingly splayed yourself out like a ragdoll for him to move and manipulate under him however he pleased. Before you could focus on his hands dipping into your underwear, he bit at your lower lip and pulled back, causing you to crane your neck and chase after his lips as he moved away. You were about to pout about the loss of contact, but his fingers dipping through your wet folds were plenty distracting. He sits back a bit to focus on pulling down your pants and underwear while still stroking you with his opposite hand.

You were too busy squirming under him, both from his slow methodical fingers against your cunt and a half hearted attempt to kick off your garments that were now pushed around your knees to notice his unwavering gaze that raked over your newly exposed body. His resolve was about to break, along with the dam that held back his desire and excitement to feel every inch of you, to make you feel good, to be the first person to make you feel good. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but picking fights is a lot easier than trying to flirt so he settled for riling you up the only way he thought he could.

He swats backwards to assist you in removing your final articles of clothing which are caught on your ankles, and as he leans back forward into you he sinks two thick fingers into you with a smirk on his face. It was a sudden stretch, but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance. Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but you can't help but keep your sight locked on the shit eating grin that spreads across Eddie's face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He had made you fall apart in just over four minutes last night, and now he was going to take his time and have his fun with you. How could he not? You were so responsive to him, whimpering and writhing with every small movement, muscles tensing and your perfect lips parting open every time he curled his fingers upwards or brushed your clit with his palm.

He swoops down to give your tits some attention, and you let yourself tangle your fingers into his unruly curls. Between licks and nips he mumbles into your skin, "so fuckin' perfect" and "doing so good for me." He can feel your walls squeezing his fingers, soaking his palm, so he slows his roll a bit, wanting to draw you out a bit longer. You wanted to pull him up for a kiss, but he was deeply concentrating on sucking the perfect purple hickey to the underside of your breast. You could have sworn you heard "mine" come out of his mouth in between sucks and heavy breathing, but you couldn't be sure.

Once he released your skin with a wet pop, you tugged at his hair to beg for a kiss. Eddie liked you all whiney and desperate for him though, so he just lets you tug on his hair as hard a you want as he continues moving down your body, teeth dragging across your ribcage, his hot flat tongue licking a stripe across your hip bone just before blowing a stream of cool air across the new wet trail. All the while his fingers slowly rolled inside of you, making this delicious wiggling motion that had you feeling full and seeing stars.

He pulls his fingers out of you, taking a mental picture of how hot it was that your slick had soaked him down to his rings. Before you can sit up with any sort of protest, he cups his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushes forward to effectively fold you in half. Your head perks up, about to inform him that he is wildly overestimating your flexibility, he cuts you off.

"Just lay back," his hands run up and down from your inner knees down to your ass and back up, "lay back and let me make you feel good, you can do that for me, yeah?"

"Yeah okay," you breathe out as he places a tender kiss to the part of your thigh just under your bent knee, a part of you that had never had any sexual connotation before, and now the feeling of his lips were permanently seared into the skin there.

The last thing you caught sight of before your eyes rolled into the back of your head was Eddie spitting straight onto your pussy, not that it wasn't wet enough already, and immediately going in to lick a fat stripe up the middle of your center. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he repeated the action, his grip on the meat of your thighs tightening and leaving fingerprint sized indents. He attached his lips to your clit and rolled it against his tongue in a way that you had never experienced.

Sure, you'd been on the receiving end of head before, but not like this. It had always been a 'hey, I just need to make sure your pussy is wet enough for my dick' sort of situation and never a 'it would be my pleasure to die here in between your thighs' situation. The moans that escaped you were shaky and broken, unlike the noises coming from between your legs, a sinful combination of wet slurping and Eddie deeply moaning and humming approval into you as he ate you out.

Your legs began to shake, partially from your growing orgasm, and partly from this advanced yoga position Eddie had you in. He slid a hand down from the juncture of your leg to toy with the pooling wetness at your hole. You let your wobbly hand replace his holding your knee back for him, keeping you spread open and on display as he stuffed two fingers into you, continuing to suck on your clit.

"Ohmyfuckinggod," your words slurred together in a high pitched moan, "Eddie- Eddie, fuck." You were no longer in control of the noises coming out of your mouth, a barely coherent slew of Eddie's name, 'fuck's' and 'please.'

He groaned into your cunt, picking up the pace and curling his fingers into you just like he had the night before, this time with the added pleasure of his mouth devouring you. You were not long for this world.

'You're gonna make me come," you warned him, your voice sounding on the verge of a sob, "feels so fucking good, Eddie, please."

Your eyes screwed shut and legs fell from their pushed back position to clamp around his head as your orgasm took over you. Crashing waves of pleasure that were pulling you out like a riptide. All you can feel is the release, hardly noticing your shaking legs or broken moans. Eddie moves up to catch your lips in a deep, wet kiss, slowing his hand as you ride out the end of your orgasm, still quivering around him.

You were severely out of breath, but refused to break the kiss. His slick, swollen lips swallowed your moans and anchored you, bringing you back down to earth.

"Mmmmm," he hums into the kiss, "you need to quiet down, unless you're tryina get me in trouble," he whispers into your lips, dipping down for another soft kiss as you regain your composure.

"Fuck, sorry," you pant out.

"Don't apologize to me," he slowly pulls his hand from your center and you wince slightly, "if it were just the two of us in this cabin I'd insist you let those pretty moans out to your heart's content."

"I'll be quiet," you reach down to palm him through his low hanging pajama pants, "will you please fuck me? Need to feel your cock in me so badly Eddie, I know you're gonna make me feel so good again."

A feral groan rumbles in his chest, head tilting back towards the ceiling as you stroke what felt to be an incredibly well endowed cock.

"You sure you're up for it?" Now it was his turn to show the hint of neediness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" You question back, getting a better grip through the material of his pants.

"You know I wanna fuck you," he ruts into your hand ever so slightly, "but I need to hear you say it."

"I already did Eddie," you mumble into his neck, "Want your cock so bad, I want to make you feel good too."

He rolls over onto his back, and slips off his pants and boxers. You shift onto your knees next to him, unsure of what position he'd want you in. As his hard cock springs out of his elastic waistband and onto his stomach you lose control over your facial muscles and let your slack jaw hang open, eyes bulging slightly.

"Wh-" a look of concern on his face grows as he notices your expression, looking from you, down to his cock, then back to you, "Oh! The piercing?"

You were completely frozen, because the only thing more shocking than the two little metal balls sticking out of his cockhead was the fact that Eddie Munson had a pornstar dick. Thick, long, girthy, perfectly curved, the most glorious shade of blushed pink. No wonder he had decided to bedazzle it, it was gorgeous. Not only was it the largest and most aesthetically pleasing dick you'd ever seen, in real life or photos, you sure as hell had never had one that big inside you.

"Yeah, the piercing-" your voice trailed off, still gawking at it.

"Shit, I'm sorry if you're like, super freaked out," the worry in his voice snapped you out of your trance, "I guess I maybe should have warned you-"

"No no," you were quick to correct his concern, reaching down to wrap your hand, which hardly fit, around it and give a few experimental strokes, "it's fucking perfect." You were visibly salivating, wanting to feel how the metal balls felt against your hot tongue.

"I mean, it's okay I guess," you say, sitting up, "I wouldn't want to give you an ego or anything," joking sarcasm rolled off your tongue, "but fuck..." the way he twitched in your hand drew you back in, not thinking twice before leaning forward and letting your tongue run from the underside of his shaft up across the metal balls that decorated the head, all the way up to his leaking slit. Your tongue gathered his precum and went back to explore how the piercing felt against your lips, rolling it across your tongue, placing open mouthed kisses to the head.

"Shit-" he hisses out, Eddie knew his dick was fine, maybe a little bigger than average or something, but no one had ever stopped to admire it, compliment it. Then again, most of Eddie's sexual escapades were just that, escapades. Random girls in bar bathrooms, quickies in the back of his van, a few weed customers who he didn't mind exchanging a good quick fuck for a discount. Sure, he'd heard the 'oh you're so big' line mid thrust, but everyone said that about the person they're fucking, right?

After feeling his hips twitch a bit underneath you, you release his cock with a soft pop and climb on top of his torso. Grinding down on his hard length with a few slow forward rolls of your hips, you can't help but lurch forward and capture his lips in a kiss. You let out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock catch your clit as you drag your wet folds up and down his shaft. Your foreheads stay pressed together as your mouth opens in a silent gasp, his hands coming down to guide your hips and dig his fingertips into your ass.

"Fuck, princess," his voice was low and sexy, and the new nickname had you bucking your hips a little harder, "lay back and let me make you feel good again. This is all about me giving it to you right, yeah? So let me do all the work."

You know his intentions were sweet, but you kept his hips pinned under yours. "Eddie I-" you pull back a bit to meet his eyes, "you can fuck me however you want in a bit, but... I've never had anything that big inside me before and..."

"Shhhh," his hands ran up and down your sides, "we can take it slow, promise. You can sit on my cock and take it at your own pace, let it fill you up right, don't wanna hurt you."

With that you nudged his tip into your entrance ever so slightly, taking a moment to feel how his piercing dragged across your cunt and left a cool metal trail that sent a shiver down your spine. Once you slipped the head inside you, it really wasn't any different from an unpierced dick, other than the sheer girth of it. Your teeth caught your lower lip, sinking down to take the first two inches or so, letting your opening adjust to its size.

It was taking everything in Eddie's willpower not to thrust up into you, or grab your hips and roll them down onto his aching cock. But he knew better than that, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he stayed still, holding in a deep and shaky breath as you started to take him. Part of him wanted to look away from the gorgeous faces you were making, because if you were going to bat your eyelashes and tuck that perfect lip in between your teeth he was going to come a lot sooner than either of you would like. But he can't bring himself to do it, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost like when you were angry.

You were fully seated on his cock now, breathing slowly and leaning back to sit up straight on it, somehow pushing it even deeper into you.

"That's it," Eddie's hands still gripped at your hips, making sure you were steady on him, "that's my girl, taking me so well."

You experimentally shifted your weight front to back, rocking your hips shallowly against his. You felt Eddie move underneath you, reaching his hand from its place on your hip to your back. He adjusted his position, and pushed up against the headboard to sit upright, now holding your torso against his. He smoothed your hair across the back of your head.

"It's okay if you need a minute," he took your chin in his hands, clenching his jaw as you continued to rock your hips into his, "don't want you to hurt yourself.

"Just feel so fucking full," you whispered into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage, "need you to fuck me, fuck me deep and hard, please Eddie, need it."

He arches his hips up slightly to meet your hips as they come down, and your eyes practically spin into the back of your head. He takes it slow, his first few thrusts from under you are careful and gentile. You continue to mumble "please" and "more" into his lips, so he scoops you up from your back and flips you over, not removing his cock from deep within you as you settle down into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his hips and he pushes his dick all the way into you, reaching a new spot that knocks the wind out of you.

"Fuck just like that," your words are hardly there, "so fucking good, Eddie, Eddie..."

"Beautiful," he fucks into you a little harder, "your pussy was fucking made for me." His hands were settled on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread nice and open for him to pound his cock into you. He lets one hand press into your lower stomach, pushing his cock down while inside you, causing you to let out a gasp. He lets his palm spread your on your lower abdomen, letting his thumb creep closer and closer to your clit, catching it every so often as your hips rolled back and forth with his thrusts.

"You gonna be good and let me make you come again?" he asks, the cocky edge in his voice has you losing all coherence, "so pretty wrapped around my cock."

The movements of his thumb are much more deliberate now, rubbing your clit in tandem with the movement of his hips. He wasn't fucking you particularly fast, but he was making sure his cock was buried all the way inside you with every thrust, rolling his hips forward and punctuating each thrust with extra pressure.

"Oh my god, I-" your head was thrown back into the flannel pillowcases, body starting to tense up again. You were still so wet and turned on from your last orgasm, but coming while his massive cock was in you was going to be entirely different, you could feel it.

"That's it, come on my cock," he could feel the muscles in your thighs start to tighten, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him as he drew methodical figure eights on your clit. You felt so fucking good around him, so warm and wet and tight, swallowing his cock up with every thrust. That plus those damn sounds you were making. But Eddie had a goal, and couldn't be distracted by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body, his one and only focus was to push you over the edge, to take care of you and do it right.

The choked sobs leaving your heaving chest were the first indicator that you were about come, that and your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice. You weren't able to form words as you fell apart for him, just letting broken moans escape you as your body shook and released all that tension. Part of you could hear a string of praises coming from him, but all you could focus on was the ripple of your orgasm tearing through your body.

You start to come down for it, catching your breath, until you feel him pull out of you entirely and push you legs back as he had before, and dip his head down to lick down your quivering center. He lapped up your wetness and sent a few aftershocks buzzing into your core. His tongue slowed down and he let you settle down, before pushing his tongue entirely into you and letting out the most sensual groan right into your cunt.

"Holy shit," you let out, looking down at him and realized that next to seeing his dick for the first time, Eddie lapping up your orgasm was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

He sat up and let his cock rest in between your puffy pussy lips, his pierced head sitting right on your sensitive clit. He lets the weight of it fall into his hand and gives your pussy a few taps with his cock, sending your hips jerking from the sensitivity.

"Eddie," you start, eyes glassy and voice hoarse, "please keep fucking me, don't want you to stop."

"You want more?" a comment half cocky and half serious.

"Mhmm, want you to fuck me hard," your hands came up to play with your tits, "want you to come in me, use me, give it to me hard how I know you like it."

"'S'that right," he quickly grabs your hips and flips you over, angling your ass up in the air for him, "you wanna take all my come like the good girl you are?"

"Please," your muffled voice comes up from the sheets, "I'm on the pill, it's okay, it's safe."

"Mmm fuck," he slips his cock back into your soaking wet hole, guiding your hips back and forth with his big hands, "thank you, so fucking perfect for me, you can tell me if I go to hard, yeah?"

"Yeah Eddie," you try your best to bounce back on his cock, but know he's doing most of the work moving your ass to slap against his hips, "I want it hard."

With that he takes the initiative to snap his hips forward with every thrust, pulling your gorgeous ass back against him and twitching inside you every time it comes flush with his lower stomach. He can't help but bring a flat palm down to smack it, loving the big red handprint he leaves behind, and loving even more the muffled moan that leaves you when he does so.

"Y'like that?" he already knows you do, but just wants to hear you say it.

"Yes, again, please," each word comes out as a short gasping breath. He smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle against his palm has him thinking he's died and gone to heaven, you his personal angel.

Although he can feel the end in sight, he wants to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock again, so he snakes his hand under your arched hips and toys with your clit. You're beyond fucked out at this point, but can't help but prop yourself up on straightened arms to give him more room to rub against you. He leans down to press his chest against your back, one arm coming down by your side to support his weight as he fucks down into you.

"One more time," he lets out into the skin of your shoulder, "can you come for me one more time, princess?"

“I-” you start, about to tell him you’re unsure, but then he starts rubbing fast strokes against your clit and you’re already seeing stars.

He’s fucking into you fast and hard, just like you’d asked him to. The feeling of you clenching down on him has him biting your shoulder to hold back his grunts and moans. As soon as he feels your pussy start to gush around him, your arms collapsing and legs shaking under him, he lets go with a soft grunt and spills his come deep inside you.

He lets his cock stay there for a moment, pulsing inside you, relishing in the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. He pulls out slowly and you let out a small yelp, letting your hips fully sink down to the mattress without his hands to heep you propped up.

He runs a hand across your thigh, and you acknowledge your attention with a hum.

“M’gonna go get something to clean you up,” his voice is soft and you nod into the pillows, making a half hearted attempt to roll your body over. He uses his discarded sweatpants to wipe off his forehead and chest, suddenly aware of how sweaty he is, you both are.

He slips on his boxers and creeps down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a big glass of water and a clean hand towel run under the sink. He slips back into the room to find you paid out on the bed, all sweaty and fucked out, it’s the best you’ve ever looked to him.

He lifts you up by the shoulders and helps you sit up while you take a few sips of water and let out a “thank you” in between sips. He runs the warm cloth in between your legs a few times to catch anything sticky, before tossing it into the pile with his dirty clothes.

You were already mostly knocked out, all the energy completely drained from your body. Typically you’d awkwardly dance around the notion of spending the night or not, but your eyes felt too heavy to care, and your body was already molded into his sheets. He flicked off the bedside light and got settled into bed next to you, thinking you were already completely asleep.

“Thank you Eddie,” your voice was sleepy and almost didn't cut through the air.

“No problem, good sex is dehydrating,” he responds, assuming you meant the thanks for the water and towel.

“No thank you for taking care of me,” you roll into his arms, snuggling up against him, “I didn’t know sex could be like that.”

“Like what?” he partially knew what you meant, given that the three times you’ve ever come during sex all happened in the past hour.

“Like magic,” you’d have been embarrassed to say it in other circumstances. But the post sex bliss and intense sleep that was washing over you made you sort of hazy and elated.

“Yeah I think you’re pretty magic too,” he wrapped you up in his arms, feeling the same tiredness, “good night y/n.”

The next morning he felt a sort of sore stiffness in his body, wiping the crust from his eyes and suddenly remembering the events of the night prior. There was an empty warm spot in the bed next to him, indicating you must have slipped out recently. He shook out his messy bedhead and threw on some sweatpants.

A short trip down the hall brought him into the kitchen, where you were making a pot of coffee. You heard him come in from the hallway, and you suddenly tensed up at the thought of facing him. How did he look so damn good mid yawn, rubbing his face and his hair a wild mess.

You turn towards the coffee machine on the counter, frantically trying to think of what to say or how to act towards him. Before you could give it too much thought, you feel his presence directly behind you, his arms caging you in and his back pressed against you.

“Are you pouring me a cup?” he asks, hunching down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you elongate the word, taking in his scent and feeling his hair tickle your neck, “this is how you take it right? No cream, no sugar.”

“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a quick peck on the side of your neck before moving to grab the cup.

“Wow okay early bird Eddie,” Robin’s voice cuts through the air of the kitchen and he immediately grabs his coffee and moves away from you. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice and the two of you cringe at the somewhat compromising position.

“Okay I don’t think I want to know what the hell that was about,” she points between the two of you. Ahh Robin, master of the art of subtlety.

Steve comes into the kitchen, immediately sensing the awkward air between everyone in the small space.

“Oh god,” he looks from Robin’s pointing finger to the two of you with somewhat guilty expressions, “was THAT all that noise I heard last night? Jesus Christ you two.” He turns out of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Robin with a bewildered expression and the two of you cringing.

“At least they’re fucking instead of fighting now!” she calls to him as he continues to walk down the hall away from you.

Amongst Robin yelling and Steve leaving in a huff, Eddie manages to sneak his hand behind you and pinch your ass, making you jump a bit and the coffee in your cup to slosh around. He gives you a wink and starts to head out of the kitchen.

“I’m gonna have my coffee by the lake, you joining me?”

Maybe this trip was going to be something special after all.

All Eddie Fics Taglist: @eddielives1986

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #smut #smut fanfiction

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muchmorethanmoney · 24 days

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I think Rosie is a key factor to understanding Alastor's outlook on friendships.

The show all but spells out that Alastor sees attachments as a weakness, from the "Great Alastor, altruist, died from his friends" line to the hints about his failed friendship with Vox and to the way the narrative immediately punishes him when he admits to Niffty that "One could get accustomed". However something sets Rosie aside from all of this. With her, Alastor is open about scheming, he allows her to touch him and even seems to bleat like a fawn when she grabs him. Their friendship seems oddly healthy for a guy who seems to think that letting people even peek through the twenty meter wall he's built around himself is a fate worse than death. So what makes Rosie different? I think what sets her aside from other attachments that Alastor might view as dangerous (such as Vox, maybe?) is that no matter how close they might be, she still has her own world and he has his. There's a safety in knowing your life won't have to change and that you're free to take any risk, ruin any bond because you're not directly putting this person in danger. Rosie is Alastor's friend, not his responsibility. That's why she's not as affected by Alastor's disappearance and welcomes him back as if he had been gone for a week. Their lives are completely separated, but they choose to meet at the borders.

I think that someone like Vox doesn't do that. Vox lives with Velvette and Valentino, they share everything, success, plans, even a living space. Heck, Velvette can go to the Overlord meeting representing the other two because that trio can speak as one. When Vox asked Alastor to "join his team", he was basically asking Alastor to remodel his life to make space for him as well. If one of the Vees fucks up, all of them fuck up ("Our model is perfection"). Alastor has his own plans, his own messes and cannot by any means be tied down to someone else. Even if he did care for Vox, in order to really be on a team with him or anyone else, he would have to drop his creepy persona which keeps him safe, he couldn't just kill people and betray others however he wished, let alone make sketchy deals with much more powerful entities. His actions would impact the ones he kept close. Vox and Alastor couldn't join forces because they have fundamentally different goals and outlooks on attachment. Vox wants codependency, Alastor has conjured up indestructible walls just to survive.

So, tl;dr: Rosie and Alastor work as friends because they seemingly agree to keep their lives separate. Vox wanted to carve a niche for himself in Alastor's life just like he had done for him, but that's just not what Alastor wants nor is able to give.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel meta #rosie hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #tagging duo names/ship names as well bc that's how I organize my blog however this is meant as platonic :3 (read it however u want tho obvs #radiostatic #radiorose #one sided radiostatic #one way broadcast

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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you can't spell lonesome without me * fem!driver

everyone and everything she's ever loved seems to be slipping away from her grasp and she doesn't know how to stop it

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: hi! matt and rocky angst comes after this so hehe gl with this guyz hope u enjoy it because it actually took 20 years of my life tryna write this LOL

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

sebastian keeps telling her that it’s not her fault; to look at the bigger picture to get some perspective. but she doesn’t quite understand why the bigger picture has to have liam in it — frankly, who cares if liam’s qualified 15th and she ended up behind him? that’s not the point.

the point is she finds herself at another weekend where she couldn’t deliver results.

she hasn’t spoken much since she crawled out of her car after getting knocked out in the first round of qualifying. and she appreciates that matt hasn’t forced anything out of her just yet.

she’d stormed out of her garage and tried to get through all her interviews as gracefully as she could. but how could she ignore her results when, week after week, the questions and criticisms are the same?

it’s slowly getting harder and harder to keep her feet on the ground when things are slowly coming undone around her.

and she can’t thank matt enough for letting her cancel their plans without another word. she’d simply uttered that she just wanted to be locked away in their hotel room and he agreed without prodding too much.

she steps out of her racing home, taken aback by the 4 other bodies of her friends that are riddled by the porch, all on their phones. she tilts her head as she holds the door in her hands. “what are you guys doing here?”

logan is the first to look up, furrowed eyebrows and lips pursed in what she can only assume to be out of annoyance. “what do you mean? we’re heading out for ice cream tonight.”

she glances at matt next to her, who’s already looking at her as he awaits her response. she sighs as she looks back at her friends. “i’m sorry, mate,” she apologises, shaking her head. she weaves herself out of matt’s grasp and takes a step forward. “i’m not feeling great tonight.”

“what?” oscar whines, lifting his head from his phone with a slight frown. “is it a fever? are you alright?”

“i’m alright.” she smiles very slightly, picking on her arm as she forces another lie to her lips. “we can go tomorrow after the race, but just not tonight, i think. i’m sorry.”

liam furrows his eyebrows with a loud sigh. “is it because of qualifying?” he grins when she looks over at him. “if it’s any consolation, i’m not happy about it either, mate.”

she laughs softly. “yeah, it sucks.”

“i can’t do tomorrow. my flight’s right after the race,” mick frowns with a sigh. “i’m meeting laila for a bit before the next race weekend.”

“oh,” logan hums, turning away from mick to look at her. “we can go just us, right?”

“i can’t either,” oscar hisses, his frown growing. “i’m flying back home for an event that lily has. she needs me there.”

“ah,” she grins with a nod. she looks at logan. “we don’t have to get ice cream this weekend. it’s okay.”

logan raises an eyebrow. “you’re sure?”

she nods. “i’m sure.”

“it feels like it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of you lately. have you gotten too famous for me?”

she turns around with her head tilted, lips puckered as she takes a sip out of the pepsi can in her arms. “oh, hi max!”

“hi!” max perks up at her smile. “i’ve barely spoken to you since the second race. how are you?”

she sucks in a deep breath as she looks around the busy paddocks, people turning their heads at her and max, and some cowering away immediately when she catches their eye. she looks back at max with a frank smile. “good.”

he lifts an eyebrow. “really?”

she knows that talking to someone would probably ease her mind with all her thoughts. it might even calm her down to a certain degree.

and she almost does.

but she doesn’t. instead, she says, “of course. i feel great, even.”

“well,” max puts a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to snap her head up to look at him, “take my advice, mate. don’t be too hard on yourself.”

but the question still begs: how exactly does she not do that?

there’s a slight scowl on her face as she looks up at the podium. her arms are folded over her chest as the australian national anthem blasts from the speakers.

her best friends have made it on the podium this season — without her. while it’s not totally unheard of that she misses out on the share of glory, it’s never usually her on the receiving end of this torment.

at least not as of late.

to oscar’s left is logan clad in blue, and to his right is mick in the mercedes suit. it’s almost annoying.

there’s an itch in her brain and a smidge of resentment starting to grow in her chest. it’s wrong to feel this way — she knows it is — because these are her friends achieving big things in their sport. but is it so wrong that she’s starting to feel a little jealous?

just a little bit. just a little. just a touch.

maybe if she sleeps this off and wakes up tomorrow, all remnants of resentment would somehow no longer exist.

she shouldn’t feel this way, no. it’s not right. she forces a smile to her face, waving halfheartedly at oscar when he catches her eye. he pumps his fist into the air and waves his trophy in the air.

next to her is lily with her phone up, pictures and videos taken. and of course, ylona’s next to her, waving excitedly at logan as she points at her phone to get him to pose for a picture.

she presses her lips together, annoyance growing in her gut as her airways start to close in on itself. it’s just so hard to breathe especially with everyone pressed up against her. she’s still sweaty from the race, her hair is sticking against her forehead and her race suit starts to feel just slightly restricting.

she huffs softly, hooking a finger into the neckline of her fireproofs.

but everything feels like it’s burning.

“excuse me,” she mutters, dropping her head low as she pushes herself through the crowd. she ignores the way lily and ylona call after her in confusion.

she heaves when she manages to rid herself of the crowd, hands on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath. she catches max’s eye right by parc ferme, engaged in a conversation with charles.

she sees the way he perks up in concern at her but chooses to ignore it. she just picks herself up and heads to the media pen to do her interviews.

the feeling will eventually leave.

she looks around the ice cream parlour, slouched slightly with her hands pressed between the cushion of the seat and her thighs. in retrospect, it felt like coming out after media day would have been the ideal time to come out and indulge in ice cream.

but now that she’s sat here, stuck between liam and mick in a booth, it seems that she has made a mistake.

“what are you having, rocky?” logan asks, tapping the table in front of her to catch her attention. “rocky road with extra marshmallows still? or do you feel like vanilla ice cream today?”

with the way her stomach has been churning recently, any form of chocolate makes her feel sick. she shakes her head. “maybe just a lemon sorbet if they have that available.”

an audible gasp comes from either side of her. she throws her head back and looks between them. liam has the back of his hand pressed up against her forehead, mick’s tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows and logan’s staring down at her with parted lips.

“what are you guys doing?” she asks mellowly, swatting their hands away from her. “don’t touch me.”

“sorbet?” liam scowls, pointing a finger at her. “is everything okay? you’re like sorbets’ number one hater.”

she raises her eyebrows and chews on the inside of her cheeks. “am i?”

“yes,” logan emphasises. “you literally told me off one time for having sorbet during our ice cream dates. you and oscar wouldn’t let me live it down for weeks!”

she blinks at him. “you got a raspberry sorbet, so you had that coming.”

“no!” logan shrieks. “sorbet? really? what’s wrong with you? is everything okay? you always say sorbets are inferior to ice cream.”

she nods hesitantly. she vaguely remembers the one time that she’d gone on a drunk tangent about sorbet not being ice cream. to which she can say that she understands logan’s argument. “well, i’m not really feeling ice cream today.”

mick hums, making her turn her head to look at him. “if it’s just this one time, i guess we can excuse the behaviour.”

she hears logan humming, eyes still narrowed down into a glare. “just this one time, rocky. i’ll give you a chance.”

“great, thanks. i was worried you’d bully me into having ice cream tonight.”

“keep up the sarcasm and i’ll actually force you.”

she flinches when she opens the door to her driver’s room, only to find it occupied. she blinks. “seriously, you’ve got to stop taking advantage of seb.”

“we missed you,” oscar grins, comfortably lying in her bean bag, tapping away on his phone. “and you weren’t answering our texts in the group chat.”

she looks over at matt and points at her friends. “really? you let them in?”

the green-eyed boy shrugs, lips pressed together. “4 versus 1 argument — remember that.”

there’s nothing that she wanted all day but to come back to a peaceful and silent driver’s room. she’d wanted to simply sit with matt in silence before she had to get up and drag her feet to a conference room and come up with diplomatic answers on the spot.

she just needed a couple of hours to herself to think and recuperate. to get herself in a better headspace after these past couple of races.

“where are we heading for ice cream tonight?” logan raises an eyebrow, not sparing her a look as he continues to tap away on his phone.

“ice cream,” she mutters, trailing off as she blinks. “oh, my god.”

she shakes her head, her palm pressed against her forehead. amidst everything that’s been in her head, she’d completely forgotten to research an ice cream parlour for them to visit tonight.

oscar chuckles. “you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

“yes,” she answers, somewhat apologetically. “i’m so sorry. and i’m busy today, i don’t have the time. can either of you find a place?”

but there’s a different answer that she hopes they would choose instead of the standard answer that they’d give her.

she finds them wanting to say nevermind; that they’ll just not grab ice cream together.

to her dismay, that’s not what mick says. “oo, can i choose?”

“give it a while, kid.”

“i don’t have a while!” she shrieks, looking around at her mobile car, cars passing her from the track. she can practically hear the comments and see the headlines once she steps out of the car when the race finishes. “tell them to fucking get it together! what the fuck is going on?”

she’s looking around wide-eyed, desperate to meet anyone’s eye for an explanation. the longer she stays parked in the pit, for what was supposed to be a pit stop, the less threshold she has to stay in the race.

“this is absolutely insane, seb. i was in p5 before this shit show.”

“rocky,” he hears her sigh into her ears, “just be patient.”

she dug her foot into the acceleration when the sign flipped to the bright green colour. adrenaline pumps through her veins as she convinces herself that her car will be good enough to put her back into a good spot.

that she’s good enough to put herself in a position where she’s no longer on the receiving end of harsh words this weekend.

above all else, she needs to prove to herself that she hasn’t lost her touch as a driver.

“you’re currently in p9.”

“what the hell happened during that pit?” she complains, the urge to roll her eyes growing stronger. “that was so fucked up, seb! you know what– it isn’t. it’s absolutely fucking unacceptable.”

“i know, rocky,” seb answers calmly, clearing his intonation to ensure that the young girl hears him. and actually listens because it doesn’t seem like she’s absorbing much of what he says. “we’ll debrief later after the race, okay? just focus on making the most out of the weekend.”

she grunts. “fine, whatever.”

“ice cream tonight?” logan pops up next to her, grinning when she lifts her head from her intense gaze on her shoe. “found a spot?”

she sighs, blinking. “no. i forgot.”

logan takes a spot next to her on the couch, furrowing his eyebrows. “you forgot again?”

“yeah,” she huffs as she looks away to avoid his gaze. “sorry.”

truth is that she didn’t look for one on purpose. she just simply doesn’t feel like heading out with them tonight.

she just waits for the time that oscar and logan will let her be. perhaps the stupid ice cream tradition needed to be abolished altogether. just seems like a waste of time.

“no worries,” logan grins, patting her head gently. “you’ve had a long couple of race weekends past you. i’ll look for one, okay?”

she breathes out shakily, smiling halfheartedly. “okay, thank you.”

she finds herself dreading the ice cream date with her friends. she trails behind the group with small steps, watching her feet with every step as she formulates a way to escape her obligations.

she clears her throat and lifts her head. “um.”

“she’s spoken,” oscar jokes, grabbing logan’s arms — previously hitting him — and turns back to grin at her. “the curse must have been broken.”

“someone found the unmute button on the remote!” logan giggles, scrunching his nose. “what’s up, rocky?”

liam hums with a smile. “your girlfriend remembered she has friends!” he looks over at matt and nods. “good for her.”

“i’m like,” she trails off, biting down on her lip as she forces another lie out, “totally not feeling great. i’m on my period and i’m kind of lightheaded. is it alright if i sit this one out?”

“aw, bub,” matt coos, shoving liam off of him, arms extended as he approaches her. he tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “you’re on your period?”

she looks up at matt, wide-eyed as she slowly nods. “just got it before we left my room.”

which is a lie.

“aw, does that mean matt’s not coming with us?” mick frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. “i haven’t spent time with him forever, that’s so unfair.”

she shakes her head, flashing mick a small grin. “no, it totally doesn’t mean that. he can go with you guys — i just wanna head back to the hotel and take a nap, really. i’ll be okay on my own.”

matt hums. “i’ll go with you.”

“you should go with them,” she laughs, grabbing his arm with a small nod. “i’ll text you when i’m back, i promise. i’ll be okay — i just need to take a nap, i reckon.”

logan furrows his eyebrows and his smile drops at her insistence. “i can walk you back to the hotel if you want.”

she shakes her head. “i’ll be okay. you guys have fun, okay?”

she kneels on her beanbag, lips pressed together as she looks out of the tiny window of her driver’s room. right by the porch of her racing home are her friends gathered, laughing and having a good time as they awaited her arrival.

“bub,” matt sighs. “are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?”

she turns around with a small smile, scrunching her nose. “i’ll be okay, bub. i’m just not really feeling like heading to the club tonight.”

he walks over to her, slumping his shoulders as she leans into his body for a hug. “at least let me stay with you? i don’t like you being alone when i’m around. i’m sure we can come up with some silly excuse that they won’t giggle at like 12-year-olds.”

“you have to go,” she hums, pulling her head back to look up at him, “it’s logan’s race win — just go in my place, please? tell him i’m really sorry i can’t be there.”

he hums, cupping her cheek. she leans into his touch with a soft sigh and her eyes fluttering close. “you should tell him that yourself. you owe him that much; he’s your best friend.”

she shakes her head, her hand coming up to rest above the hand that’s on her face. “i can’t,” she chokes, tears filling her eyes, “you know how i feel about this. just do this one for me, bub.”

“fine,” he sighs, hunching over to press his lips to her forehead. “but you can’t keep avoiding logan and oscar and throwing me out there to face them. they miss you, you know?”

she can hear logan’s laugh in the air mixed with ylona’s. she grins slightly, “i’m sure they’ve got better things to care about other than me.”

“don’t even say that,” he pulls away, “text me when you get back to the hotel, okay? i love you.”

she scratches the back of her head roughly, nails digging into her scalp as she holds her helmet in her hands.

she mutters under her breath as she tears everything off from her body: her balaclava, her gloves, the earpiece. everything’s not right, everything’s not going her way and that’s unfair.

nobody’s worked as hard as she has to be where she is right now is all that goes in her head. it’s unfair that she’s getting the brunt of the criticism when it came to andretti’s performance on the grid this year.

she doesn’t see liam getting decimated by the masses, and she clearly doesn’t see it on sebastian or her team principal or mechanics for not producing a car to get results in a weekend.

she’s qualified at the very back of the grid this time — p19. just imagine what everyone will have to say; what everyone will zoom into just to have something to say about her driving.

it’s always her skills, never the fact that the car is simply shit.

“rocky,” she hears sebastian sigh behind her. “let’s talk.”

she shakes her head, clenching her jaw as she heads towards the exit of her garage. she doesn’t bother turning around to look at him. “just fuck off.”

the one thing she wishes to stop coming by is sebastian’s excuses for the team. it’s the same thing over and over again. it’s unfair that she’s the one getting fucked over by the media.

it’s not fair.

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muntitled · 8 months

Text

𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 | 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝘾. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘼 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗳𝘄𝗯, 𝗙𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿-𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗠𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗣𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗦𝗺𝘂𝘁 (+𝟭𝟴) 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜, 𝗗𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗘𝘅𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗗𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸, 𝗦𝘂𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗗𝗼𝗺!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻, 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝗶𝗯𝗲

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙂 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚

For the longest time, you had been quite comfortable viewing yourself as an independent career woman. Thank you very much. Many men had tried and failed to sway you from the retches of your passions and projects and passion projects, respectively -Changbin being onesuch romantic endevour that had failed to shine in the shadow of your work.

No amount of dick could keep you away from the studio, nestled in a stuffy booth with your notepad opened on your lap filled with slightly manic notes and lyrics.

No one truly understood that until him.

"Okay, yeah, no. I can't do this," You watched Changbin gather his belongings with incredulous eyes.

"You're abandoning me?" You screech, fumbling to take off your headphones. "We haven't even perfected the chorus yet, and you're abandoning me?"

Changbin's hair is in complete disarray as he types hurriedly on his phone, leaving you to watch from inside the booth. "While you re-record and re-record an already perfect record, my stomach has growled 5 times-"

You roll your eyes, "Binnie, food is for the weak. We can do this."

"I can't," He shook his head, evading eye contact as he pulled on his letterman jacket, effectively stowing away the view of his muscles and evidently, your will to work.

Changbin finally spared you a tired look as he said, "But maybe he can. You psychos can starve yourselves together."

It is only then that you noticed a figure haunting the open doorway. Changbin had conjured a brand new producer with wayward black curls with a single tap on his iPhone screen. The man lifts his hand in a passive greeting.

"Hiya," He had said, before taking Changbin's spot on the sonic board. "I'm Chan."

You had never met anyone as sonically obsessed as you are, until you were acquainted with Changbin's colleague. Bang Christopher Chan, would quickly become not only your disgustingly talented and driven producer but also a friends with added benefits. Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with your thoughts bleeding into unfamiliar and frankly perplexing thoughts of overanalyzing how attractive he looked when he runs his hand through his hair during spells of frustration- or when he got the incomparable burst of genius to freestyle over a beat as if it was a long lost friend. Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...

You couldn't retain satisfactory orgasms from your music, could you?

"What would really be sexy is if you added the last word of the verse, ad libitum." You're immediately brought back to the present. "So if you said 'cash' but with like a higher pitch in between the chorus and the second verse. I think that would be great," You realize you had taken to swaying in one spot and quickly correct yourself as you placed your hands on your headphones and nod, vaguely agreeing but never really hearing anything after the words 'sexy'. Hearing anything suggestive falling from Chan's plump lips at this very moment would send your imagination hurtling into the fiery pits of hell. Him, staring at you so intensely through the glass and behind the soundboard, left you unable to focus.

"Honey?" He says, with a finger on the intercom. "Do you get me?" He asks in a tone so sickeningly innocent it almost makes you feel guilty... until his next string of words.

"If you do, I'm gonna need to hear you use your words, okay?" With his eyes fixed solely on you, waiting patiently for your compliance, you are convinced he was literally and figuratively trying to kill you. It would be devastingly easy given that the two of you were the only two left in the studio. Zero witnesses.

"Sorry," You say, trying to dispute how heavily his words weighed down on you, "I'm thinking about all the babies that die in between you purposely using the words ad libitum instead of ad lib." Saving yourself with swift and easy rebuttal had always been a specialty...

"Sorry, sorry!" Said Chan, "Didn't know we were opting for plebian speak this evening," He says with a chuckle before waving his hand, "Continue."

But it was incredibly difficult to continue with your mind and all its unsavory thoughts seeping out of your skull and straight into your lyrics. Perhaps working on the more explicit songs with Chan had been an utterly dire decision, one that practically solidified your downfall.

As you rattle through the lyrics, you make sure to keep a firm gaze on him. Chan maintains eye contact from behind the glass, giving nothing away under his black cap, clad in his short sleeve black shirt and his all black attire.

The dimness of the studio suddenly feels too dim. This 'mood' that Chan had strived to create in the peroration of your session is suddenly working too well.

Soon, the track is being replaced by Chan's slightly gruff voice echoing in your headphones.

"Sorry to cut you off, baby girl," The coolness with which he utters the nickname releases a wave of arousal in your core, and you inadvertently cross your legs in front of you, "I just want you to take note of something for me real quick..." For a moment you’re only nodding slowly, waiting for him to continue, but he never does. Chan sits silently, staring at you with yet another earth-shattering, unwavering gaze. You're confused, which Chan would have found incredibly adorable if you weren't purposely being incredibly difficult this evening. Demanding artists were his specialty, but you presented an entirely new set of challenges.

"I said take of note of something for me, please." He finally lifts his hand, making vague scribbles into the air. His voice is strained, as if he's withholding himself from scolding you too visciously. In fear of not only your reaction but his in return.

"Christopher." You drawl incredulously, "You seriously want me to actually write this down?"

He only responds with a succinct, I-dare-you-to-argue-with-me, "Please."

You make a petulant display of rolling your eyes before sitting down on the single metal stool kept in the booth. His chuckles bleed into your headphones, disrupting your nonverbal tantrum when he says, "You really are trying it today..."

"Maybe if I had someone to correct this attitude, we wouldn't have found ourselves here, would we?" You mutter the sentence as you're staring into you notepad, completely evading his heated gaze. Silence grows pregnant between the two of you before Chan continues.

"Alright. I'd like you to take note of the brisk allegro that erupts in the pre-chorus," He spins his pen between his fingers as he reads from his own notes. He looks absolutely worn out and so unmistakably beautiful it makes you want to scream.

"I think that part in particular might be vital in solidifying the overall kick of the actual chorus." Not to mention, seeing him in work mode tickled your ovaries in ways you could never have foreseen. In the studio, you had always been the one wading through the laziness of others, picking up the slack where needed and making it your obligation to ignite your producers with the zeal to work with your meticulous ass. But Chan had turned the tables and for the very first time you find yourself unable to think about work.

"Christopher," You send him a bored expression, "I literally make slut music, do you really need to be calling it an allegro?"

He is quick in pressing the intercom to clap back, "Thots and sluts deserve a well mastered allegro too, don't you think?" You're only left to slump your shoulders as Christopher continues. By this point, you know that he knows exactly what you want for him, why you're being particularly difficult, why you were fighting him on every term but for some unexplainable reason, he's keeping you from it.

"So a dry signal is a pure unprocessed sound, like a vocal recorded as is, and a wet signal is a sound with cool effects on it like we did for 'Drive'."

You inhale sharply, raising a finger into the air, to which, Chan completely ignores you, keeping his eyes on his notes, his black curls brushing along his eyes.

"And if you're gonna say 'I could tell you something else that's wet' don't bother, because you'll only get muted."

Your shoulders once again sag, and you find yourself audibly whimpering into the mic. That quickly catches Christopher's attention, and you're left wading in the scrutiny of his gaze.

"Fuck, I can't work with you like this." He rakes his fingers through his wayward curls, forcing you to rub your exposed thighs under your miniskirt together for the umpteenth time. "Tell me what you need."

"You know what I need..."

He curses under his breath before sending a worried gaze over his shoulder and you realize you have won. It was custom for Chan to stare worriedly at the door, as if terrified that Changbin might storm into the studio, face crimson and finding his best friend not only fucking the object of his interest but dominating her.

"I've been rapping about dicks and vaginas the entire time, Chan, you can't tell me you're not a little turned on yourself at this point." You're quite literally the snake tempting Eve in the garden and he sends another helpless glance at the door before complying.

"A-Alright. Come out here for me real quick," this is what excited you most about Chan. Hearing the trepidation in his voice mixed with excitement and nervousness and his inmate, need to be dominant... it concoted a dizzying amalgamation.

"Where is this attitude coming from?" He asks once you appear by in front of his seat, inching towards him as if terrified by your own creation. He does not bother to get up, does not bother to tell you stand in front of him, in between his legs.

You just do.

It's as if he's saying 'Do what you want. You're your own person.' Knowing full well how effortlessly you tended to submit to him.

"And if I check, am I gonna find you wet?" Chan is slow to closing the notebook on his lap and putting it vaguely near the soundboard without ever taking his eyes off You.

You can see the dark half moons underneath his eyes, stabbing at, not only your arousal, but your innate need to just take care of him. His eyes remain focused on you as he moves to clamp his hand on your exposed thigh, watching your lips part ever so slightly.

"Consider this a brief, very brief recess."

"Yes sir," You had intended for the words to come off more teasingly than it actually did, but it runs straight through to Chan's dick and he's removing his hands from your skin like you have mustered the ability to spontaneously catch on fire.

"Fuck," he replies, sending one more gaze at the door before looking at you once more. With a shaky breath escaping through his lips, he looks utterly wrecked and completely conflicted. You let him wade through the motions without any input in fact, you just stand there, waiting patiently for his next command.

Christopher sits back in his seat, running both hands down his face before saying, "Fuck, alright. Take off your panties for me..." You more than speedily oblige as you hook your fingers into the sides of your pink laced panties, slowly dragging them down as you and Chan both watch each other with steel gazes.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," His resolve melts when his eyes skim down to the sight of your ruined underwear. He notices far too quickly that it's his favorite pair, eliciting another wavering breath from him as his other hand clamps around your thigh to pull you impossibly closer.

"You planned this, didn't you?" You can feel the warmth of his shallow breathing as he places his forehead on your abdomen, while he brings his fingers up to your lips.

"Open your mouth for me..." You automatically obey, bringing your mouth around his middle and index fingers. For a short while, he remains with his face hidden in your dress as you suck, almost petulantly on his fingers. Perhaps he feels a mixture of shame for enjoying this entire scene far too much, and soon, he feels he has to peel his face away from your dress to watch you suck so prettily on his fingers.

"F-fuck, baby," His voice is strained between a mixture of a coo and a moan as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, "My baby." His hands almost immediately delve underneath your skirts slotting them inside your drenched cunt. He is utterly ruthless as he sits on the edge of his seat, one hand claimed around your thigh as his fingers fuck in and out of you with absolute vigor. The man is utterly overcome with lust, sporting his own hard on in his joggers as he looks up at you and says, "Come on, baby... Say it for me, you know you want to."

His voice is dripping with sex and your mind is completely blown with pleasure as you throw your head back. It is a mystery how you're still standing, but Chan's grip on your hip is concrete.

"Oh God daddy- your fingers feels so good inside me, Fuck." He rewards you by letting his fingers drift over your swollen clit, racking another torrid moan from your throat as he begins to circle it with purpose. You clamp your hand against Chan's hunched shoulders, his face once again buried in your dress.

"I just wanna take care or my little angel don't I?" He's an incoherent, mumbling mess, his words as sloppy as the hands sliding against your clit, "But she makes it difficult when she's being a stuck up little brat," Your head is still craned back while his face is buried against your abdomen and it is as if you both cannot muster to truly see yourselves in such a depraved, animalistic state.

"You're squeezing my fingers baby- Fuck, is this how bad you needed me?" Chan finally cranes back to look up at you. His cheeks are ruddy and his hooded eyes are blown into saucers, "It's so fucking distracting having you so close to me."

Chan's cap is long gone, strewn on the floor somewhere with your fingers burried in his curls. You harnass your little bit of power to crane his head up at you, and he lets you- using this moment to speak directly into your soul. "You know when you're really needy like this, all you have to do is ask, baby. You know Daddy loves taking care of his baby, don't you?" You nearly cum then and there.

"Please daddy-"

"F-Fuck I didn't plan on fucking you today, least of all here. But I really need you right now, alright pretty girl?" Your body shudders at the loss of his fingers inside you, one more flick against your clit and you would have cum everywhere.

"Bend over for me, yeah? Mind the sound board though, baby girl." Chan finally rises from his chair, immediately cupping your face with his hands as he dips his head down to you and places a peck on your lips. "I just wanna feel my baby girl squirm around me-" that particular string of words have you whimpering incoherently as Chan crowds behind you, pushing you up against the desk. Your hands grip the edge, careful not to temper with any sonic equipment as Chan raises your dress lightly. His hand grazes your bare ass and you're sent reeling as your own anxieties begin to set in. You're made strikingly aware that you had never actually had sex in the studio. Lightly touching and horny pawing at each other is the most that has ever been achieved within these four walls but going all the way...

"Chris can we-"

"Shh- it's okay." He says, as if reading your thoughts, "It's totally fine, barely anyone's here. They all left-" while he coos in your ear, you feel Chan lightly push you further over the desk. "Holy fucking shit." His curses bring your mind to unholy places, being someone that rarely ever swears. Chan is absolutely far gone as he is quick to bring his cock out of his sweat pants until he eases into you without a second thought.

"I need you to call me daddy again." He admits as he begins fucking you with absolute fervour. His hand is on your hip, forcing you to take each and every inch of him.

"F-fuck," is all you're able to say as he bottoms out inside of you. Your walls contract around him, stopping him for pulling out too far, and only swallowing him deeper until the head of his cock is pushing up against a bundle of sensitive nerves deep inside your core. You're left to squeeze your own breasts as Chan fucks you from behind, lost in the haze of chasing his own orgasm.

"Baby, if you want me to cum quick enough, I need you to call me Daddy in that sexy fucking voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel."

"F-Fuck daddy you make me feel s-so fucking good. Only you can- Only you can make me feel like this," Your panting and your tits are bouncing as Chan begins to rut against you with little to no more constraint. He's attacking that inherent need that had been blossoming since the start of your session, completely wrecking you I'm search of the ultimate satisfaction. Chan's hands are as restless as his hips and his words flow like an angry river. You feel so tight around him. His perfect little girl.

Those words alone, playing in his head like a broken record have his cock twitching inside of you.

"No one slese can make you feel this good." His eyes are half crescents as he says, "Tell me you love me baby,"

"I love you, daddy- I fucking need you-" it is outrageously difficult to form a coherent sentence but Chan does not seem to mind. In fact, it appears as though he prefers it when you're a blundering mess. It affirms that he fucks you so good your smart little brain is simply unable to think about anything beyond the bounds of pleasure.

"Oh-fuck I'm going to c-cum" He exclaism behind you with eyes squeezed shut before forcing them open. "Where?" he asks in a solid yet wavering voice. You feel your own orgasm on simmering inside of you and youre utterly embarrassed to find that you might cum from being pounded by his cock alone with little to no stimulation against your clit. "Inside me, Daddy"

"Oh-god, oh fuck," Your words, the way you say it, your use of the honorific- it's makes him cum without him even noticing it.

Being so crudely filled up by him jump starts your own orgasm and it blazes through you like a million sun's burning in your core all at once. His cum completely fills your insides, too the point that it begins to feel too full. Droplets of pearly white cum seep out of your vagina and Christopher is absolutely enamored. "Jesus fucking Christ." He whispers, still watching his cum seep out if you.

"Language, Chris." You jest before craning your head back to look at his unimpressed visage and unruly curls.

"Back to work, baby girl." He taps lightly at your bum before pulling your skirt down.

"Chan..." you turn to watch him pull his cap over hus head once more before wiping his hands with wet wipes.

"Hm?" He says.

"My underwear." You say, scanning the studio for any traces of the pink material but coming up empty.

"Get back in the booth." Is all he says.

I'm way too subby for this

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marauders-peace · 22 days

Text

Embarrassing!

Summary: The marauders are popular in school, sure. But that doesn't mean that they are really nice. In the end you are just living the basic high-school experience.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

"You four back there, pull yourselves together now or I'll break you up!"

James' laughter could be heard all the way to the front, to my ears, along with the giggling of the girls next to me.

Great. So I must have been wrong again.

Professor McGonagall was now looking at me, teachingly. "To get back on topic. You have the right idea, but it's not quite that simple. To transform a body, it is of great importance…"

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. You weren't that far off the mark." Lily tried to comfort me. That was easy for her to say, she would never be wrong.

And the golden git Gryffindors would never make fun of her.

"Maybe."

"Evans, will you come here?" There stood the loverboy James, ready to have another go at her.

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled apologetically at me. "Don't take these idiots seriously, okay?"

With that, she walked in his direction, and did just that.

But I shouldn't be so hard on her because she was really trying to cheer me up, even though we're not really friends. She's clearly, well, more present than my friend Amy and me.

Amy was Gryffindor just like me, but didn't have transfiguration. She called the subject "A walking unnecessary babble".

Oh how I wish I had thought that when I chose my subjects.

I could still see Sirius grinning as James talked to Lily, Remus just stood there ashamed and Peter patted him on the shoulder.

Sirius noticed my look and whispered something to Remus, who flinched and turned away. I snorted.

Sirius' laughter was still ringing loudly in my ears, long after I had escaped to Amy's and my dorm.

"Well, I think they're really annoying. That's all." Amy pushed a plate of dinner towards me. She immediately realized something was wrong and I wasn't ready to go to dinner. I was very glad she was so good at the invisibility spell.

"Yes, but everyone likes them. Even Lily likes the four of them, even though she's always upset about them!" I groaned loudly and accepted the plate gratefully.

Amy looked at me with a smile. "Well, I don't really like them. They're entertaining, but I think they lack empathy."

"I think they're all stupid ego centers who only make themselves so important because they actually feel so bad about themselves." I took a big bite.

"And yet you can't stop talking about the four of them." Amy was grinning now. "I thought you said the other day that 'Remus isn't actually that bad and nice to talk to'?"

I almost choked at the mention of meeting the quieter boy of the group. It had been three months since we had met and talked in the library.

"That was something else. He just watches and lets the others get away with everything." I quietly turned to my food and Amy dropped the subject.

Oh, how I hated this cycle. Getting up. Eating at a house table where I know everyone and yet no one really. Subjects in which I will eventually make a mistake. Skipping meals to avoid the stares. Sleeping.

Hogwarts isn't that different from other schools. The same faces making fun of the same things. But we're all supposed to be adults soon, aren't we?

I should stop before I sound like an angsty teen.

Breakfast. New day, same course. I sat down opposite Amy and a laugh escaped my lips at one of her jokes.

But then another girl sat down next to me. Marlene McKinnon.

"Hey, you two, how are you?" she smiled, but something made me uncomfortable.

"Good, good." Amy laughed. "And you?"

"Oh, just fine." Marlene looked at my plate as if to check something. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable having a few chocolate cookies in the morning.

She turned to me. Oh no.

"Hey, this might be a bit sudden, but I'd like to know something." There was this twinkle in her eye that I didn't like at all.

I looked at Amy, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay?" Very carefully. Don't make any big mistakes.

"If you had to date someone from Gryffindor, who would it be?"

I looked confusedly at Amy, who had to pull herself together not to burst out laughing.

"What?"

Marlene shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I was just a bit curious as I've never seen you in a relationship with anyone before."

I saw her eyes twitch briefly to the right. When I looked in that direction, not very inconspicuously, I saw Sirius whispering something to James. He grinned at Remus in response.

Oh.

"Well, I can't really think of anyone right now, sorry Marlene."

She looked at me in surprise and wanted to say something, but Amy gasped in shock. Shocked, she clutched her chest. "After everything we've been through!" she didn't exactly say that quietly. To my dismay, quite a few heads turned towards us. Including the idiots.

"Amy-" I began, but she talked herself into her theater rage. "Hush! I don't want to hear any excuses! I thought we were something special! But no. In the end, I'm just another one of the many picks that will never be taken." She stood up. She skillfully looked away and took in the audience. "I can reassure you. I was prepared for all of this."

"Amy, it's not what you think!" I played along a little now. "I couldn't be so open about something so… Say something like that!"

Amy furrowed her brow. "Girl, no homo."

The Gryffindor table laughed and we fled the room.

Outside, we also laughed a bit, but Amy quickly composed herself.

"Did you see how he looked at you?"

I furrowed my brow. "Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Remus, of course."

"Maybe it's because you made a big show," I said playfully, heading towards our next class.

"Hmm, but I think then he wouldn't have looked at you so longingly-"

"Amy!"

"With red cheeks and big heart eyes!" I walked faster while she laughed.

"That's all nonsense. Marlene only asked because one of those idiots requested it."

Amy looked at me confused. "Why would they do that?"

"Oh, they were looking at us too. And yesterday they were whispering among themselves. They probably find me really funny."

Amy became very quiet after that.

The only sounds were our footsteps and voices in the distance.

"You know," Amy began quieter than usual. "It's not like it used to be. We're all slowly growing up. We're not the odd ones out anymore. I think," she took a deep breath. "That the four of them won't make fun of us, of you, anymore."

How much I wished I could believe that. But I won't be able to, even if Remus talks to me in the library or Peter asks me if I like certain creatures.

Because in the end, I gave up on that a long time ago.

#marauders era #marauders #the marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #high school

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medium-rare-bimbo · 10 months

Text

Perv! Eddie munson x naive! Innocent! Reader

♡Smoking with Eddie <3

☆ if there are any spelling and grammar mistakes no there arent

♡masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

contains: Dubcon, drugs, darkish! Eddie

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

When he invited you over to his trailer you first thought that he need extra help with his english work, which was true he did need help with his english work but that wasnt why he invited you over. He had noticed the interest you had expressed around getting high, it started off as innocent questions that he didnt think much of such as;

"why do people get high?" "do all drugs feel the same?" "Why do you do drugs?" And much more similar questions, eddie was heavily against it when he picked up your unsubtle questions however after some heavy thinking (and masturbating), maybe having you fuzzy and malleable was a good thing, if he was lucky he would get you so high you wouldnt remember the groping he'd do.

You had arrived to his trailer with your bag filled with school and revision work, you had been hesitant to knock afraid that he hadnt actually wanted you to come over and it was all a misunderstanding, overthinking on your part. fortunately for eddie you pushed aside the anxieties and knocked. Almost immediately eddie opened the door as if he was waiting for your knock, he quickly invited you into his room, sitting you on the bed, you begin to open your bag to pull out the equipment before he stopped you. "Actually.. I- uh I was thinking we could do that later y'know? Like let's- lets hang out for a little"

"Oh yeah sure! What do you have in mind?" You quickly closed your bag placing it near the end of his bed, looking up at him, you noticed the slight nervousness that radiated off him

"We can um- read some comics- just dont touch the ones you find under my bed or the ones in my bedside table they're- uh they're... limited addition? Yeah limited addition, definitely dont want anyone to touch them-" his voice cracks inbetween words as he desperately tries kick one of the "comics" in question under his bed "- o-or we can just talk.."

"I dont mind it if we just talk, i- I don't really like comics that much.. no offense or anything I'm sure they're great!"

Eddie released a breath he didnt know we was holding in and awkwardly sat on his bed next to you, glancing at you as the room became silent minus the low sound of his mixtape playing in the background.

"So um how is the hellfire going? I heard that will byers joined recently that must be fun h-hes a sweet kid I used to babysit him, sometimes I'd join in with the game but I never understood it-" your face turned hot as you spoke slightly embarrassed that you were saying this to the dungeon master himself "s-sometimes steve and Jonathan tried to join but they didn't know much either so it made me feel better about it. One time nancy joined and got so-"

He cut you off "are you close with Jonathan and steve?" His nose flared and hands clenched as he asked you

"I mean i guess- i-i um I used to babysit will and dustin and- and sometimes I still do so it's hard to not be close to them y-y'know?"

"Do you like them?"

"I- what of course I do they're my friends-"

"No- do you like LIKE them?"

You breathed in feeling exposed and vulnerable letting tears well in your eyes the thought if your fleeting crush being so visible mortified you "I- well I um- I used to have a small crush on both of them like a long time ago b-but I never tried anything! I dont like them anymore- I-" he placed his hand on your thigh

"Hey hey hey its okay I was only asking, I'd go for steve 'the hair' harrington too" he joked, quickly easing your nerves and calming you from the breakdown you were possibly about to have. Soon the conversation picked up and you both began talking about school, games, music, life and anything that crossed your mind. Eddie had seen the way you reacted to his questions and a part of him felt bad for upsetting you, he didnt mean to make you almost cry, he just wanted to know if he had any competition he didnt mean to embarrass you.

The conversation soon died down lulling you both in a comfortable silence, clearing his throat "do you um- do you mind if I smoke? I know you dont do that stuff so I just wanted to ask incase-"

Almost like a dog being asked to go on a walk your eyes lit up and you nodded your head cutting him off from his sentence "yes sure go ahead I dont mind i- this is your room" Eddie exhaled and pushed himself near the wall of his bed, he sat snug in the corner and put his hand between the mattress and the wall pulling out a box containing his secret stash and various pre rolled blunts and joints, he had hid before you came thinking that seeing it would scare you off. he pulled out a joint looking at you for approval before lighting it, as he dragged the joint to his lips he took notice of your eyes following his movements, the way your pupils would dilate when he flicked his tongue out to dampen his lips.

He inhaled the drug, holding it in his lungs before exhaling away from you, he smirked as you watched the smoke crawl around the room. "D'ya wanna try it?" Your head whipped back to face him, you looked at him with wide eyes before trying to form a sentence that he could understand

"I've never done anything like that so- so I dont know how um I- think you should just- um just do it" you avoided his gaze that bore into you, he grabbed your hand and tugged you closer to him forcing you to shuffle to get closer to him , he placed the joint near your lips

"Its easy, all you gotta do is breathe in and breathe out-"

"Like breathing?"

"Exactly like breathing sweetheart" he smiled pushing it closer to your lips, your hand holding his trying to comfort yourself aswell as allowing yourself to push it away at any moment. You looked him in his eyes as you took a drag, holding back a groan he waited a moment for you to pull back and exhale. unfortunately when you did you immediately started choking on your breath, tears brewing in your eyes and falling as the coughing continued eddie chuckled and patted you on the back praising you despite your fail.

"You did so well for your first time, so good even if you did choke a little. How about we try again-"

You shook your head as soon as the words left his mouth "nuh uh, no. s'too hard hurt my chest" you said, voice wavering still trying to recover from the assault on your lungs. Eddie smiled and lay back patting his chest for you to lay on it, he took a drag and let you wiggle yourself across his bed, your leg straddled his thigh, tangling themselves with his. Sighing into his chest you breathed in his scent feeling better now that you had some comfort

Your head lay on his chest where he raised a hand to your hair and started to trace patterns and shapes into the side of your head gliding his fingers through the baby hairs along your neck and up the side of your cheeks, he pulled your head up and leaned down, you tried to back away not wanting to take advantage of his high state, as his lips were centimetres away from yours he blow his smoke into your mouth, this time you didnt choke. As he pulled back he looked at your large pupils and smiled "y'like that?" You didnt respond too awestruck with what had just occured, unconsciously dragging yourself forward to get closer to him.

Eddie took another drag, before repeating his actions, he didnt think it would take much to get you feeling warm, you were a virgin in this field and he was a prostitute. You lay your head back on his chest looking up at him with adoration, the drug clearly kicking in. Eddie began his plan and moved his free hand from your head taking his time to feel your body as he makes his way down to your thighs.

You melted as he pulled you closer forcing your clothed cunt to press against his thigh, taking this as a hint, he took a drag and blew the remnants into your mouth. Your hips, without your control, began rocking against his thigh making him groan under his breath, your eyes were half lidded and your hands were resting on his chest, "that feel good?"

You slowly nodded "makin' me all fuzzy" as you continued your grinding

"Yeah? You like it?" He cooed at you. pushing his leg up to meet your lazy thrusts, moaning, you dumbly nodded your hips jerking up against him trying to get release, something you've never had before. Eddie softly bounced his leg, forgetting about the joint and placing it on his table moving his hand to your hips, pulling you flushed against him, the other groped around your body feeling as much flesh as he could manage to get his hands on.

"Eddie feels s'good 'like it- f-feels nice w-want more"

"Yeah? M'not giving you enough? You're so greedy"

He pressed you down on his bulge, your clit knocking against the zipper of his pants causing you to jolt away from it as if it burnt you. Eddie forced you to stay put letting you sit up to look down at him, he let you continue your pathetic thrusts letting you get used to the feeling of direct contact to your clit before guiding you like before.

"Ah- eddie! Again!- w-wan' more"

You whined from above him as you could feel your orgasm build up, your panties were now soaked seeping into the material and ruining his pants. luckily eddie enjoyed that he could feel your juices against him, pulling you down harsher he bucked his hips against yours pushing you over the edge refusing to stop even when you cried that you coudlnt take it.

"S'too much eddie stop! S'too much feels weird don' like it eddie dont like it"

"Ssshh-shut up- shut the fuck up- oh god fuck- take it for me c'mon fucking take- make me feel good baby-"

Eddie was in heaven right now and hed be damned if he let your overstimulation ruin it for him. he continued to use you for his own purpose soon flipping you over so you lay under him, thrusting against your clothed pussy which was now soaked and puffy from his abuse. The sight beneath him was a sight for sore eyes. youre face soaked with tears, drool coating your lips, a light bucking of your hips, it pushed him over the edge forcing him to cum in his pants like he was a virgin.

His head fell into the side of your neck as he prolonged his orgasm, your legs flinching as he grazed over your clit once more. Desperate for comfort you moved your face to muzzle the side of his head, he tilted your face and kissed your drool coated lips "did s'good for me baby, so so soo good" eddie pulled you up turning you around and pressed you back against his chest, one of his hands resting on your spine and the other in your hair.

When you woke up the next day you were none the wiser on why you were laying on top of eddie or why your thighs were so sticky, you barely remembered last night but you assumed it had been good because eddie was smiley the entire day

"Was last night good? I dont remember"

"Oh absolutely you were so high, you'll get a higher tolerance as you get used to it we can do this again if you want" almost as if god was on his side you agreed

#stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #dark eddie munson #eddie munson smut #perv x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson #perv eddie munson #perv eddie #innocent reader #innocent!reader #x innocent reader #eddie munson x innocent!reader

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blushbunii · 3 months

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Hi👋 I know nobody is gonna see this but i just love the idea of Luke with a ditzy girlfriend so I decided to write it myself. I'm not great at writing but I still wanted to post this somewhere bc I kinda like how it turned out <3 (if anyone does see this plz don't judge, like I said I'm bad at writing)

Ever since he met her he knew the guys at camp would be all over her. She was so innocent and would fall under their spell in a heart beat. Which is why he needed to make sure that he got to her first. He told himself that it was because he wanted to protect her, that the other guys would only use her. But in reality, there was more to it than that and he knew it.

There was something about her that drew him in. Mabey it was the way she got so flustered when she first met him. The way she looked up at him with those pretty blue eyes of hers, her cheeks a bright shade of pink. And the fact she stuttered when he asked for her name, making him smile.

Or mabey it was the way she dressed. She always wore skirts, even if she was at a camp. Shed wear a short white skirt with the classic orange camp half blood shirt. She always has a bow in her hair. Whether it was to hold in her pig tails, or a small pink clip with a bow on it in her long wavy hair.

Whatever it was he knew that he needed her to be his, and Luke always gets what he wants. Only a week into camp, she was all over him. She'd always stayed right by his side during capture the flag, and by the gods if anyone tried to hurt her they'd spend the rest of the day in the infirmary.

Or whenever the camp was doing activities, even something simple as bracelet making, she's always insisting that he help her. Stating that she can't tie it or that she cant find the right beads and needs his help. He knows that it's just stupid excuses so that he could be around her, but who was he to deny his princess?

And when she'd come crying to him because of something random that happened to her he always Comforts her, no matter how small it is. Most of the time it's Clarisse making fun of her because she did something wrong, or one of the boys making sexual jokes towards her. But sometimes it's something as simple as her breaking her favorite blush, or ruining her favorite top. But he still whispers sweet praises and promises in her ear as she cries into his chest. "shh it's okay sweetheart. I know it hurts, but everything is going to be alright" or "I'm here okay, I'll make sure to protect you. No one can ever hurt you when your with me"

And one night when she was sitting in his lap crying, he finally makes a small move. "Do you want me to make you feel better?" He asks, his voice soft, hiding the undertone of lust he felt for her. Even when she's crying she's so pretty. When she nods, his hand starts creeping up her thigh until he reaches the hem of her panties.

When she questions what hes doing he just says something like "I'm helping you feel better. Isn't that what you want?" He asks, smiling at the small whimpers that leave her mouth as he rubs her clit through her pink panties. "See? It feels good doesn't it" he says, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves faster. Her soft moans and pleas only make him want her more.

And once he makes her cum once he just can't stop. He starts fingering her, most definitely taking her virginity. And when she complains about the pain, he just praises her softly. "I know baby, I know it hurts. You're doing such a good job princess. I promise it'll feel so good, even better than before". And he was right, soon she was moaning and whining while grinding her hips against his hand, only making him go faster. "That's it sweetheart, taking my fingers so well"

And he doesn't stop until she on the verge of tears from the overstimulation. The second she catches her breath he lays her down on the bed, his hands immediately moving to unbutton his jeans to relieve his ranging hard on. "I know your tired baby, I'm only gonna take a minute okay?" He reassures you softly before sliding in, giving you time to adjust.

He knows that it hurts more than his fingers, and when you start crying from the pain he just kisses your cheek gently "hey, It's okay. I know it hurts darling. Just relax and let me take care of you okay? I'll protect you". He gives you extra time before moving in and out of you at a slow pace.

"Shh it's okay princess, it'll feel good soon" he says softly, thrusting a little faster. Soon she's squirming under him, begging to cum again. He fucks her a little faster, getting her closer to the edge. And when she finally does cum he talks her through it. "That's it baby, you look so pretty cumming on my cock. You're such a good girl for me. You're mine now aren't you? Gonna let me fuck you whenever I want?"

He moans out praises before he pulls out and moves to cum on her pretty face. He smiles when her tounge lolls out to lick the cum off of him, but when she comes back to reality she starts complaining about how he ruined her makeup.

He laughs softly at her reaction and cleans off her face with a towel before laying down beside her, pulling her into his arms. "I'm sorry I ruined your makeup, when I leave camp again I'll bring back all the makeup you want" he promises as he runs his fingers through her hair, loving the way she smiles up at him. Eventually after a few minutes of cuddles and praise, she closes her eyes and nuzzles into his chest. "Aww is my princess tired?" He teases softly. "Sleep baby, you deserve it" he kisses your forehead as she falls asleep in his arms. He had her in his grasp, and no one was going to take her away from him.

#luke castellan #luke castellan smut #luke x reader #pjo series #charlie bushnell

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shoddynomenclature · 4 months

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BG3: Reader is Kidnapped/Tortured

This one started as a Shadowheart oneshot, but I decided to expand it to include Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara as well.

Let me know your favorites! I’m looking to expand more of my stuff into one shots, so it’s good information to have!

Content Warning for torture (obviously)

Shadowheart

When the days adventuring party returns without you, her blood immediately runs cold. They didn’t just come back without and leave you out there right?

When they inform her that you’ve been taken by the cloister, her face goes pale.

It takes Karlach and Wyll on either side of her to get her eased down onto a bedroll and breathing regularly. You were gone.

And to make matters worse, Viconia DeVir had you in her grip. Even with her amnesia, she could recall just how cruel the woman was.

The party had made great strides in passively finding clues about the location of the House of Grief, but they were still yet to find it.

Finding it had now jumped from a passive priority to the single most important thing they could be doing.

Shadowheart spent most of that night weeping in frustration at her inability to remember. She had grown up there for gods sake. The past 40 years at least had been spent in that damned house.

In the end, it was actually Astarion who finally discovered the sanctuary’s location. It was decided that he and Shadowheart would be the two best suited to sneak in and retrieve you.

When they found you, you were lying on the house’s marble floor, chained up to rigs that came out of the ground. The chain around your neck only barely allowed you to sit up to look at your rescuers.

“Shadowheart? Shadowheart is that you?” You whispered into the dark room. You could only see two silhouettes, but the quaffed elven hair of Asterion and the pointy crown of Shadowheart gave it away.

You instinctively tried to rush towards her, only to be stopped by the strain of your restraints. It didn’t much matter though, because Shadowheart was at your side in a matter of seconds.

She stroke your cheek, paying special attention to cut that stretched across your face. She was quick to move around to other parts of your body, stopping to carefully examine each of your wounds. Your restraints left you unable to reach out to her in anyway.

“Shadowheart, please, you have to get out of here, now,” you nearly cry. “They’re looking for you.” Astarion joins the two of you on the ground, getting to work at picking the several locks that held you in place.

It takes her a moment to register what you were saying. Her first thought is an obvious refusal, she’s not going anywhere without you.

But then the implications of your words dawn on her. They took you because they couldn’t find her. All of this torture you’ve endured, you’ve done it to protect her.

“Please Shadowheart,” you beg. “I swear I didn’t tell them anything. You’ll be safe at camp, just please go.”

Her head spins with newly uncovered memories of the torture she inflicted before the Nautaloid. She remembers how the Sharrans go about getting information from people.

“Astarion, how are coming along on those locks?” she ignores your pleas in favor of getting you free. Your upper body is now free, but he seems to be having trouble with your ankles.

“Patience, darling,” he quips, nearly earning him a slap across the face from Shadowheart.

Within the minute the shackles drop from your ankles, leaving you free to stand up on shaking legs. Shadowheart gives you a quick healing spell before asking “do you think you can make it back?”

You nod, following her and Astarion back the way they came in.

You had never been more excited to see camp than you were in that moment. You laid down face first on the plush Elfsong mattress. You hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and being tortured really took it out of you.

Shadowheart sat on the bed next to you. The fact that you laid down on your stomach did not bode well for the condition of your back.

She tugged gently at the hem of your shirt. “Arms up, love,” she cooed. You whined and crossed your arms over your chest. You didn’t want to show her what they had done.

“If you truly will not show me, I will get Jaheira to look after you,” she reasoned. “But, please, let me take care of you.” The second part was more a plea than anything.

Reluctantly, you lifted your arms and allowed her to pull the shirt over your head.

She did her best to remain stoic. She had seen endless wounds like this. She had inflicted endless wounds like this. But against her will, a sob choked its way up her throat.

The same back she had spent so many nights tracing and trailing with kisses was now so raw and bloodied, she wondered for a moment if you had any skin left.

She used every last bit of energy healing the wounds. By the time she was done she had exhausted herself too much to even make it back to her own bed.

She spent the night curled up around your legs, resting her head on your lower back. Viconia was going pay for what she’d done, she’d make sure of it.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel isn’t the usually the tactical planning type, but when you’re captured by Vlaakith’s army, she realizes this isn’t a kick-down-the-front-door type of mission.

This does not, however, make her any more patient during the planning process. The githyanki could have you floating halfway through astral plane by now.

Luckily, the gith as a whole aren’t known for their subtleties, so you’re not hard to track down.

Protection is thankfully slim enough that the party can pretty much strong arm their way to you.

When Lae’zel finds you are bound by some magical device that was, as loathe as she was to admit it, beyond her level of expertise.

You were at least conscious, which was truly remarkable given your condition. All your clothes were torn and bloodied, but the most concerning and blatant wound came for the side of your head.

Almost the entire left side of your face was completely covered in dried blood, all leading back to the gash on the side of your head that was once your left ear.

Lae’zel cursed, pointlessly kicking the arcane barrier.

You could see her shouting at Gale. Presumably she was impatiently rambling about freeing you, but you couldn’t make out what she was saying through the barrier.

All you saw was a long dagger that she pulled from her belt before storming off in the direction of your now dead captors.

Lae’zel was still gone when the party finally figured out how lower the barrier around you.

You stumbled out onto your knees and immediately found yourself surrounded by the party’s healers.

Lae’zel came stomping back moments later, carrying a small wooden bucket she didn’t have before. Likely she just found it somewhere around the gith camp.

She dropped the bucket at your feet without a word, leaving you to examine the contents for yourself.

You looked down into the bucket to find a dozen or so fleshy green ears.

You look back up at her, not sure whether to be honored or disgusted.

The smug look on her face let you know that this was certainly a gift she was proud of, so honored it is.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have plenty of choices when it comes to choosing my replacement.”

Karlach

Karlach really does try to be tactical most of the time, but you’ve been taken by none other than Lord Gortash himself.

And the idea that you are gone and she is here, at camp, while the others make a plan of how to rescue you? She can hardly contain herself.

She paces around camp, leaving a thick line of charred wood beneath her as she walks the same path over and over again.

Chewing her nails isn’t usually a nervous habit of hers but at this point she’s liable to chew her fingers off.

She logically knows it would do no good to come out guns blazing when you’re probably locked up behind the entirety of the steel watch, but worry and adrenaline nearly get ahead of her.

It is Shadowheart and Halsin who finally pull her from her thoughts. They have a plan, and much to Karlach’s relief it involves her. She was terrified they might agree upon a stealthier approach and ask her to stay behind.

She would have done it, if it were truly what was best for you. She might have burned up the entirety of the Elfsong Tavern by the time you finally got back though.

Luckily, since Karlach was mistaken by the steel watch as a defective watcher, she was actually best equipped to break in.

The plan, in whole, ran pretty smoothly. At least until the moment Karlach actually set eyes on you, bruised up and unconscious in the middle of a cell.

All bets were off after that. There was one thing that mattered and it was having you, safe with her again.

The minute it took Astarion to pick the lock was the longest of her entire life. She was nearly burning hot enough to melt through the bars herself.

The moment the door popped open, she was beside you, on her knees pulling you into her chest.

Shadowheart whisper-shouted behind her, reminding her to watch your neck and be gentle with your head. She carefully situated her large hand to cradle your head.

She rocked back and forth, trying to soothe her own panicked heart. “Hey bub, it’s me. I came to rescue you. I… please wake up. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

When you didn’t ever stir, Karlach looked up at Halsin and Shadowheart, eyes brimming with tears and worry. “They aren’t waking up. Why aren’t they waking up?”

Halsin joined Karlach on the ground, leaning to put his head on your chest. “Their heart continues to beat and their lungs draw breath, but they are weak. We must get them to camp.”

There was an incredibly brief argument about who was best fit to carry you, given that your skin was already starting to redden from Karlach’s heat, but her bottom lip quivered at even the mention of you leaving her arms.

When they managed to get you back to the Elfsong, Karlach was reluctantly convinced to lay you down on your bed.

She winced when she saw the small burns starting to form on the side of your body she had held to her own. Your left cheek was already starting to blister. Maybe she should’ve let Halsin carry you after all.

The healers came by to try and figure what had happened to you. You had no visible injuries, aside from the minor burns, yet you were still unable to be stirred.

It was actually Minthara who suggested they may have inflicted mental torture rather than physical, similar to what was inflicted on her at Moonrise.

The idea made Karlach burst into uncontrolled sobs. “You think they may have been erased?!”

Minthara looked sympathetically down at Karlach, but didn’t have an answer for her.

The party collectively decided that the only thing they could do is wait and let you rest.

Afraid to burn you with the fire that courses through her veins, Karlach restrained herself from crawling into bed with you. Instead she knelt next to the bed, resting her head on the mattress and reaching up to stroke your body.

She couldn’t sleep at all that night, only stroke your burned cheek and cry softly into your mattress.

She started to talk to you, talking about all the things she’s like to do with you when all of this was over.

“Maybe we’ll get a little place in Lower City, next to the water so we can watch the sunsets with all the boats ‘n stuff floating out in the distance. Oh! And we can go on little picnics in Bloomridge Park, and feed our leftovers to all the stray cats and dogs. Oh who am I kidding we’re taking all of them home with us. We’re gonna have a whole farmhouse if you can’t stop me.”

When you finally do wake up, Karlach wraps her arms around in a hug so tight you nearly suffocate. She eventually settles to sit in your lap while you gently stroke her hair.

Gortash better start counting because his days are dangerously numbered.

Minthara

The moment Minthara finds out you’ve been taken by Orin, her heart nearly stops beating.

One moment it was you, the love of her life, standing before her. Then, through the breaking of necks and cracking of bones, she finds herself face to face with one of her few fears. Orin the Red.

How could she fall for this again? Her head spins with the thought of all the things Orin may be doing to you. She knows you could hold your own, but Orin had a way of breaking the unbreakable.

Sometimes, with how loyally she followed you, it was easy to forget that Minthara was used to being the one in charge. A lot had changed since you met her as the Nightwarden.

But it all comes back quickly as she barks out orders to the now leaderless party. They were marching on the Temple of Bhaal, now. Minthara was prepared to take on the god of murder himself if it meant saving you.

As tempting as it was to charge straight into the temple, it left you all with little hope of survival. She decided the party’s presence near the temple would be enough to lure Orin out, leaving her an open opportunity to slip in.

Orin’s tactless blood thirst made the plan go over all too well. She couldn’t resist the smell of fresh unspilled blood at her doorstep.

By the time Minthara got to you, you were weak but still painfully conscious. You were hanging over an alter like a sacrifice by meat hooks that cleaved into your skin.

You had been tortured in true Bhaalist fashion. While your body displayed clear evidence of the slicing and cleaving, your mind was even more clouded by the things you had been forced to do and endure. It made you even more sympathetic to Minthara’s past.

Minthara climbed onto the unholy alter and began to remove you from the cruel hooks. She ignored your weak protestations, refusing to even look you in the eyes.

She resisted any urge to comfort you, pushing all the softness from her mind until the mission was complete and you were safe. She did not speak, fearing she may distract herself for the task at hand.

She only allowed for a brief moment when she picked you up and felt your throw your arms around her neck. You curled into her stomach with a choked sob and cried “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you better than to think you are foolish. Orin is cunning, persistent, and full of deceit. I do not fault you for what has happened.”

Escaping the temple was easier than getting in. She wordlessly worked her way back to the Elfsong with the ease of someone who wasn’t carrying a bloodied body.

She did what she could to heal you herself, given that none of the others had returned yet. A mildly concerning tidbit that seemed not to faze Minthara in the slightest.

It wasn’t until she was positive you would be okay that she allowed herself to soften, running her hands through your blood crusted hair and gently cleaning you with a dampened rag.

She paid little mind to the rest of the party, who returned looking a little worse for wear. She was disappointed but not surprised to hear that they had failed to kill Orin.

She recruited Jaheira to assist in your healing. She trusted her more than Shadowheart. She never let go of your hand, even when you squeezed so hard you thought you may have broken her fingers as Jaheira patched wounds with a variety of burning liquids.

She laid next to you on the bed, resting her head gently against your stomach and allowing you to stroke her head. She wasn’t bothered by the filth and blood that covers nearly every inch of you.

“We will make her pay for what she’s done to you. What she’s done to us. We will match every scar she’s inflicted tenfold until not even Bhaal with recognizes his own blood,” she swears, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

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tomriddleslove · 3 months

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Pick up the phone.

✩Tom Riddle x F! Reader

Summary: The one where your classmate can’t take a hint and Tom doesn’t like people trying to take what’s his. Alternatively : Tom is over possessive and he can’t bear the thought of someone wanting you.

A/N: Despite my Mattheo and Theo fics doing the best i absolutely love writing for tom and this imagine had me going FERAL. I usually don’t like writing non timeline accurate fics but this worked best with tom so pls ignore the fact that they probably wouldn’t have phones during this time. As always, reblogs and replies absolutely make my day so please let me know what you think!!!

Warnings: Slight dark/controlling Tom, unhealthy relationship. Slight NSFW at the end

Songs: House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls - the weeknd

Pick up the phone - Travis Scott and Young Thug

You just about manage to dash into class, trying to calm down your laboured breathing as you slide into your seat, thankful that Professor Slughorn was busy writing something up on the board.

You pant lightly, unpacking your stuff onto your desk. Your desk mate, a boy by the name of Jamie Grimshaw, grins. He was a rather unaware boy, never seeming to catch onto your half-assed laughs and awkward smiles that suggested the last thing you wanted to be doing was entertaining his poor jokes and conversation. He nudges you with a small grin, almost teasing, and you let out a small awkward laugh, grimacing as you look away.

You look up as you place your bag to the side, your gaze immediately locking onto Tom’s. He’s gazing at you, or rather, your desk mate, with a look of such distaste you have to be sure he’s not actually trying to cast some sort of non-verbal spell. You shoot a warning glare at him and his gaze softens ever so slightly as he looks at you.

Keyword - slightly. Because Tom Riddle was certainly not soft. Even for you, the one who had somehow defied every single rule and wall that Tom had so carefully constructed with such reckless abandon, forcing your way into his life, his heart.

You look away as Professor Slughorn begins droning on to the class, and begin attentively scratching down notes, so absorbed in your work that you don't notice the way your desk mate steals glances at you.

Tom watches from afar, itching with the urge to reach out and wrap his hands around the boy's throat and strangle him till the life seeped out of his undeserving eyes that dared to look at you. He hated the idea of someone else seeing you, and wanting you, to the point where he was sure he’d only be satisfied if he could lock you away and keep you somewhere where only he could see you.

It wasn’t that he was scared you’d leave him, no no. Tom was certain that you couldn’t. His love for you (if you could class it as that) lingered in the spaces between your heartbeat, intertwining so seamlessly with your essence that to let go of him would be to unravel the very fabric of who you've become.

So no, he didn’t feel such a strong desire to keep you hidden because he was scared you'd leave him, but rather because he hated the idea of anyone laying their eyes on you. No one would ever be deserving enough of doing so, and the idea that some people (namely Jamie Grimshaw) had the audacity not just to look at you but to let their lustful gaze linger down to your thighs made him furious, ready to gouge their eyes out.

Stuck in his own mind, Tom snaps out of it when his gaze flickers over to you. He sees you working with diligence, and the suffocating feeling of anger subsides for a second. Your hard work, your drive, it was part of what made Tom fall for you. That, amongst many other things. Surprisingly, he found himself largely drawn to the way you got along with everyone (to an extent). Seemingly demure, you were polite and gentle. Something that would be of great benefit to him as well, for who better than to gain the trust of people than the girl beloved by all?

Then again, with everything that has its benefits, it also has its drawbacks. And that was what he was witnessing now, seeing you go along with Jamie’s flirting in an attempt to be polite. You tried to see the best in everyone and consistently denied the fact that Jamie was flirting with you, insisting that Tom was being irrational and overprotective whenever he’d approach you about it.

The second the lesson is over Tom is swiftly up and out of his seat, looming over your desk as you pack up. You look up at him and smile softly, a sweet gaze that disarms him ever so slightly.

“So, I was wondering whether you’d be free to-” Jamie starts.

Tom’s jaw clenches. How dare he? Such an insolent fool, thinking he had the right to speak to you.

Before you can even speak, Tom’s hand comes down to grab your arm and pull you slightly towards him, speaking up.

“No, she cannot. She will be busy tonight. And the night after that.” Tom says, a venom belying his tone as he drags you away.

He ignores your protests as you walk through the common room and up to his room, his grip on your arm tightening ever so slightly.

“Tom!” You protest, wrenching your arm out of his grip as he closes the door to his room, tossing his bag down as he turns to you.

"Tom, what was that back there?" you demand, your voice a mix of frustration and confusion.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he towers over you.

"I can't stand seeing him look at you like that," he says, his voice low and intense.

You take a step back. "Look at me like what?" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Like he wants you," Tom replies, his eyes burning into yours. "Like he thinks he has the right to even think about you in that way."

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze. "Tom, he's just being friendly," you try to reason, but even to your own ears, your words sound feeble.

Tom's expression darkens, and you realize you've struck a nerve. "Friendly?" he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. "There's nothing friendly about the way he looks at you. He wants something from you, something I won't allow him to have."

Tom steps even closer, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the fire in his eyes. "I'm not irrational," he murmurs, his voice softening ever so slightly. "I just can't bear the thought of anyone else having you. You're mine, and I won't let anyone forget that."

Your frustration subsides, and you let out a small sigh, leaning into his touch.

“No one else can have me, Tom. I'm yours.” You murmur, and a small smile tugs at his lips. He leans down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss. His hands tilt your head back slightly, deepening the kiss as you sigh into his mouth, melting at his touch. He pulls away, and you look up at him, a fire ignited within you even after the briefest of touch. His thumb caresses your cheek lovingly before he pulls away, gazing at you with a mix of possessiveness and adoration.

“Good. Let’s do some work now” He mutters, eyes roaming over your face.

It was only the next day when Tom had thought the whole thing was over and done with, and you wouldn't have to deal with it again. He walks into the common room, expecting to find you sitting by the fireplace, reading a book.

You were there, but not alone. Jamie sat by you, his arm draped behind you on the sofa as he chatted to you, clearly making you uncomfortable.

“Jamie, can I help you with something?" you ask, trying to sound polite but firm.

Jamie's smile widens, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Actually, I was hoping we could grab a butterbeer sometime?" he says, his voice low.

You laugh nervously.

“Maybe in a few days? I have to do some work right now and it’s-” You say, and Tom is furious, moving over to you.

"Jamie," he says, his voice tight with restrained anger, "I think it's best if you leave her alone. She's not interested."

Jamie's smile falters, but he quickly recovers, his tone mocking. "Oh, I'm sure she can speak for herself, Tom," he retorts, his eyes flickering with challenge.

Before Tom can respond, you intervene, feeling the tension between them escalating dangerously. "Tom, it's fine," you say, trying to diffuse the situation. "Jamie was just leaving."

Tom's jaw clenches, but he nods curtly, his gaze never leaving Jamie's. "See that you do," he says, his voice low and threatening.

With one last defiant look at Tom, Jamie gathers his things and makes a hasty exit, leaving you alone with Tom in the common room.

You shoot Tom a pointed look, silently demanding an explanation for his behaviour, but he merely gestures for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you fall into step behind him as he leads you up to his room, his pace brisk and determined.

Once inside, Tom slams the door shut behind you, his frustration boiling over.

Like a scene from a movie, this conversation is all too familiar, and all the more agitating.

"What were you thinking?" he demands, his voice laced with anger. "Talking to him like that, letting him get too close."

You bristle at his accusatory tone, your temper flaring up. "Excuse me? He just wanted to go out! Why must you assume everyone has bad intentions?” You scoff, and Tom feels his restraint slipping as he lets go of your arms, sighing angrily as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek.

“Honestly, I have to wonder whether you think sometimes. Do you not see the way he looks at you? The way he stares at your legs when you're in class? Do you know the disgusting things that go through his mind?” Tom says, harshly. You see his anger rising and begin to panic, not wanting it to spiral out of control.

“Tom, I promise you it wasn’t anything. He really just wanted a drink.” You reason, trying to diffuse the tension as you look up at him, placing a hand on his forearm. He looks down at you, anger still evident in his eyes.

Your phone pings, breaking the momentary silence. Your eyes flicker down to it, briefly glancing at the message on the screen. You curse internally, stomach dropping at who had messaged you. It was practically the worst time for them to have messaged. You slip the phone into your pocket, praying Tom won’t probe further.

“Look, Tom. He doesn’t-” You start, but your phone pings again, cutting you off, This time Tom most certainly notices, his eyes also flickering down to your pocket.

“Who’s messaging you?” He asks, as though he can sense your unease. You brush it off, just shaking your head.

“Oh, no one. Just Hannah asking for the homework.” You say, and Tom stares down at you, his gaze scrutinising for a second before he hums, taking a step back. You're partially grateful because if you can get away with this you can avoid the confrontation about Jamie as well. He turns to walk over to his desk and you turn around, going to get your books to join him. Just as you’re doing so, the sound of your ringtone fills the otherwise silent room.

Shit.

You hastily reach for your phone, fumbling with it as you decline the call, cursing. You slowly turn around and Tom is glaring at you, dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Seems like the work must be quite urgent if she has to call you as well. Why don't you pick up the phone?” Tom utters, voice strained as he looks over at you.

You laugh nervously, shaking your head as your phone begins ringing again. Jamie’s relentlessness was really beginning to annoy you, and you weren’t sure how on earth you'd explain this to Tom. The fact that Jamie was calling you would be enough to anger Tom, let alone the fact that you lied to him about it.

“Oh no, that’s just Hannah. Bit of a teacher's pet, she panics if she dares to miss a day of school because she was in the infirmary.” You say with a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the atmosphere slightly as you pray he stops calling you.

A chilling smirk tugs at Tom’s lips, a low laugh escaping his lips, a smile gracing his face. You let out the breath you were holding, thankful that he (by some miracle) bought into it as you also laughed, trying to move on from the topic as soon as possible.

“Pick up the damn phone,” he says suddenly, his voice eerily calm yet laced with a dangerous undercurrent.

The dread in your stomach multiplies tenfold, your smile fading as you take a step back.

“Tom-” You start, but he takes a step closer, hand finding its place on your jaw as he speaks again.

“Pick. up. the. Phone” He says, each word punctuated with a chilling intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on your jaw tightens slightly, his eyes boring into yours with an unnerving ferocity.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you reach for your phone, your fingers trembling with apprehension. With a shaky breath, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper, anticipation gnawing at your nerves.

On the other end of the line, Jamie's voice comes through, smooth and confident. "Hey," he says, his tone casual. "Just wanted to see if you're free tonight. Thought we could grab that butterbeer we talked about."

Your pulse quickens, panic rising within you as you glance up at Tom, who is watching you intently, his expression unreadable.

“Oh, uhm-” You begin, a squeak escaping your lips as you feel Tom’s lips on your neck. Your eyes widen as you look down at him, dumbfounded.

“Carry on. Go ahead and speak to him.” He mutters against your neck, pressing kisses along the side.

“I- I uhm. I w-was… fuck” You stammer, a breath gasp escaping your lips as you desperately try and stifle any noises that threaten to escape your lips as Tom nips at the delicate skin on your neck, soothing it with his tongue.

He continues to pepper your neck with kisses, relishing in the way your body shivers under his touch.

His voice, husky and filled with dark amusement, interrupts your stammering. "Oh, what a shame. Seems like you're a little preoccupied at the moment," he taunts, his lips trailing lower to the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

He bites down gently, eliciting a gasp from you as you struggle to maintain your composure.

Tom's fingers creep up your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your blouse. His touch is possessive, his grip firm as he pulls you closer.

Your voice trembles as you try to regain control of the situation. "I-I'm sorry, Jamie, I can't... tonight," you manage to say, your words punctuated by a soft moan as Tom's lips find your earlobe, nipping at it playfully.

Tom chuckles darkly, his breath tickling your ear. "Tell him you're busy, darling," he whispers, his voice dripping with both amusement and dominance. His hand slides higher, squeezing your breast through the fabric of your bra, causing you to gasp and arch into his touch.

"J-Jamie, I... I can't. I-I have commitments after s-school," You stammer, your voice strained with a mix of pleasure and frustration. Tom's touch is maddeningly intoxicating, clouding your mind and making it difficult to focus on anything else.

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and Jamie's voice sounds disappointed. "Alright, no problem. Maybe another time then," he says, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. You let out a small whimper as he hangs up, tossing your phone to the side as a string of curses escapes your lips.

Tom, satisfied with his disruption, pulls back. His eyes glance over the myriad of purple bruises scattered all over your neck and chest.

“Good. I’ll make sure my name is the only one you’ll ever remember.” He utters.

Before you can respond, Tom pulls you into a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own.

He manoeuvres you to the bed, not once breaking the kiss as your legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards onto the soft mattress. He lowers himself down over you, kissing you with fevour as he mutters.

“Mine, all mine.”

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @batmandabest @always-reading

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fic

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madwomansapologist · 2 months

Note

Hello!!! I was wondering if you could write headcannons of the BG3 companions and a dragon bloodline sorcerer tav? Especially their reactions to their more dragon like tendencies like hoarding things or their wings when they level up (draconic sorcerers get wings at lvl 14 table top and 11 in bg3 ) that would be great ❤️

bg3 companions with a draconic sorcerer!tav

Navigation | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: How would they react to their leader as a draconic sorcerer?

warnings: austim be danmed my girl can study about dragons (lae'zel).

note: that made me want to play as a draconic in the future. thanks for your request, i hope you like it!

Lae'zel

You got her attention immediately. All other races are as alien to a githyanki as themselfs are for those across Faêrun, but she knew a lot about draconics still. A interest of hers that she wasn't able of shutting down, don't matter how efficient and practical she achieved to be.

She always had a soft spot for dragons. A gith can't waste its time dreaming, but who can control it? She wanted so bad to be a dragon rider. When she learned there were races of people who descended from dragons, it was only natural she would want to learn about them.

Upon meeting you, part of her brain was just trying to analize. To learn from what type of dragon you descended. Her interest on you was purely academic.

She wondered if you had noticed how possessive you are. Lae'zel knows you're one of the most selfless people she ever met, the amount of times you lose something so someone could be safe... and still, you are so possessive.

You would kill Cazador with your bare hands and bring Astarion his head, but would never let him use one of your necklaces. Once she heard you hissing because he touched your things.

Exploring Baldur's Gate, everyone got stronger. When your wings evolved, Lae'zel seemed allured by them. So intricate and strong. Beautiful. A sign of your effort and talent. You deserved them.

"Just another proof of your strenght, zhak vo'n'ash duj. Our enemies will tremble before you. I already do."

Shadowheart

Something about you felt... familiar. Like she already knew you. Maybe she did. Or perhaps it was someone familiar. Maybe it was just the highs from being saved from a nautiloid. Still, Shadowheart couldn't help but to take a liking to you.

She never had a draconid friend, not that she remember at least, so it took her a bit to get used to the differences. It's impossible not to bring attention upon your group with your height and wide body. The teeth were certainly something she was highly aware.

Shadowheart thought it was enduring how you would always ended with the party's gold on your pockets. You say you will deal with the finances, and you really do that and do it well, but she knows mostly it's because you need to have it near you.

When your wings were strong enough, she would always find an excuse to hug you. It was so warm to feel your wings around her body. Shadowheart feels so save between your arms. So at peace.

"Before you I thought I knew what true embrace felt like. I was wrong. Thank you, my sweetest lover. For opening my eyes."

Astarion

Your size was intimidating. You could be an awful obstacle for his safety, but gladly you were kinder than Astarion could expect. You were way more than Astarion could ever expect.

After a while, it was interesting to learn more about you. So wide, and still so delicate. So scary, and yet so good. So moral, and yet so capable of violence.

For a draconic, it was a bit cliche that your go-to spells were fire ones. And he made sure to tell you that.

Once Astarion saw your wings, for some reason Astarion felt... proud. It just felt right for you to be rewarded after everything you did to them. To him. And it also made you look even more alluring.

"Another fireball, darling? Really? In this tiny room? Alright. Whatever feels right to you."

Gale

It was incrible to have another magic bender in the party! There are a few differences in styles and in the path you both want to go down, but at the end you both share the same goal.

Either as a student or as a natural vessel, the weave conects you both. It feels lovely to have someone who can see how the entire world moves because of it. To have someone to go for when doubts about new spells pop up, or that understands that he can't spend a long time in the battle field. Someone that just understands.

Gale was so curious about the limits of your body. Merely academic curiosity! He meet a few draconics before, but never he spend such a long time beside one.

It was mesmerizing to see you sleep in a nest. Not really one, but basically a nest. Everything looks so comfortable. So you. The best blankets, your favorite jewels, some gold.

Gale Dekarios is a student before all. And you quickly became his favorite subject.

"Don't they make you trip, my love? Ah, I see, your body was made for those, dare I say, beautiful pair of wings. If you ever feel the need to rest while you get used to them, just say the word."

Wyll

You weren't the first draconic Wyll befriended. Your race may be not so common in some parts of Faêrun, but he is not one to be surprised by your needs and habilities. Wyll is always ready to help you, don't matter what.

You need more space at camp, every armor needs to be wide enough to fit your wings, swords can't be tiny so your handle turns weak. Wyll is just waiting for you to need him so he may act.

The hoarding turned into a problem so quickly. Every damn thing "could be necessary". Forks? Rotten watermelons? Half-eaten apples??? And don't you try to say those are culture differences. Those are problems.

Once someone aimed at your wings during a fight. You barely were able to see the energy rays before their body burned to ashes.

"The Blade stands at your side, dear one. My duty is with your safety."

Karlach

Our girl on fire saw more dangerous things than a dragon's bloodline. Still, it was good to see a good fighter. She has the muscles, and you the brains. A perfect duo, one could say.

She thought was sweet your tendencies. How you wrap your tail around your companions that are being threatened. Or how the glow of jewels can make you break your neck just for a glance.

Karlach loves the fact you are also build bigher, just like her. It's good to not have to look down at someone, or to not break her back in a attempt to be at the same high as you.

She got so scared when your wings evolved. She didn't knew it was something that could happen to draconics that turned really strong. For a whole minute, she thought you went through some sort of body horror kinda of shit. She knows a lot about it, so it was really good to hear your explanation.

"Fucking gods, soldier! You almost lost me there. Thought my heart would fucking explode."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

GENERAL TAGLIST: @lovelyy-moonlight

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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themattgirl · 4 months

Note

could you please make one where Chris and reader are dating and reader feels sick and Chris just takes care of her and acts all sweet and stuff? 🫠

an: thank you for the request ily 🧡

this turned out so much longer than i intended

this isn’t my first one shot but it’s the first with one of the sturniolo triplets in it.

obviously their characters have been altered by me a little to fit into the story but i tried to make it as realistic as possible by keeping their personality traits as they are in real life.

also comment or like this post if you want to be added to the taglist

pairing: chris x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fluff, use of ‘babe’ and ‘ma’ as pet names for reader, intentional wrong spelling in text messages to make it more realistic, mentions of nsfw themes, swearing, lots of playful teasing between characters

y/n’s dialogue

chris’ dialogue

matt’s dialogue

nick’s dialogue

mary lou’s dialogue

“it’s just a cold, nothing serious i promise. i don’t think i can come over today though, i don’t wanna infect any of you. i’m sorry for ruining movie night,” i say to chris on facetime before breaking into a cough. i turn the camera away from me, not wanting him to see me in a disgusting state like this. if i could, i would’ve muted myself so he doesn’t have to listen to it either. plus, i know how worried he gets with any type of sickness or unwell feeling really.

so, of course it wouldn’t be chris if he didn’t immediately furrow his brows.

“babe no, don’t apologize. you didn’t choose to get sick.”

he gets up from where he was sitting on the couch and goes downstairs to his bedroom. he puts the phone down so all i can see now is his ceiling. his voice sounds a little farther away when he speaks again, “it doesn’t really sound like nothing serious, does anything hurt?”

“to be honest, my whole body has been aching since i woke up this morning. it’s not too bad, just a dull ache, i can still move and all that, even if i’d prefer to just lay here and rot away,” i laugh and hold back the cough that wants to escape right after in hopes it would make him worry a little less. vainly.

“your voice sounds stuffy and kinda hoarse, does your throat hurt?”

“i forgot you turn into a doctor every time somebody doesn’t feel great,” i roll my eyes even though he can’t see it with his phone still down and him on the other side of the room from how distant his voice sounds.

“shut up, y/n. you feel worse than ‘not great’. you’re not fooling anyone with that act.”

he reappears on the screen. now i can see what he has been doing in the time i couldn’t see him. he put on a hoodie over the tank top he had been wearing before, the hair he had put up in a little ponytail - if you could even call it that - in the front has been untied and brushed. or maybe he just ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, that’d be more like it.

“anyways baby, imma call mom real quick. be right back,” he hangs up before i get the chance to respond.

i put the phone down next to me on the bed i’ve been in since i realized this morning how much it hurt to stand up and how i felt like i was gonna throw up every time i moved too hastily.

i took a deep breath - well, as deep as a breath can get when your nose is clogged - and closed my eyes to try and concentrate on something other than the throbbing pain in my head.

i feel so much worse than how i described it to chris and i feel bad for kind of lying to him, i do. but he has been dealing with so much of his own lately - new designs for his brand, fixing the shipping issues with some of the orders from his last drop, coming up with video ideas and prefilming those before him, nick and matt go on tour again, preparing everything for said tour - see, he really doesn’t need me to add to his things-to-worry-about-list, especially if he can’t do anything to fix it and it’ll go away on its own anyway.

i feel my phone’s vibration from somewhere in between the sheets and grab it. it's messages from nick.

hey y/n heard your not feeling so good (:/ smiley) i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

hope you feel better soon tho

matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday

I hey y/n heard your not feeling so good 😕 i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

word spreads faaast 😂 i’m so sad i gotta wait another week or so to see you again i only like sleepovers cuz of u but dont tell chris 🤫

I i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

seriously i hate that yk me so well 😐

I its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

at first i was like 🤨 but then i kept reading i LOVE YOUU SO MUCH OMG just so yk chris was the second option

I hope you feel better soon tho

me too now i’m excited for the pajamaaas 😫

I matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday 🤔

i’m gonna kill him like fr this time

hey where tf is chris??

talking to mom shes teaching him sth honestly don’t ask idk

ok 😂 i think im gonna take a nap talk later?

yess get some rest and lmk if you need anything ❤️

ly❤️❤️

after sending the last message i get a call from matt. i contemplate not picking up for a second but decide against it.

“what?”

“uff, what’s that attitude?”

“i’m sick because of you, shithead.”

“we don’t know that. what if you’re the one who passed it on to me, hm? besides, i was just calling to tell you to drink some water and to ask if you need anything. i was actually being nice but you clearly don’t deserve it,” his voice is just as bad as mine, if not worse which makes me feel a little bad, but matt wouldn’t be one of my best friends if i had to worry about him getting mad every time i’m not nice. that’s actually how we bonded after annoying each other every chance we got. we both have a bit of an attitude problem which caused a lot of irritation and aggravation. now we get along better than any pair of best friends. the teasing stayed in place, but now we both know there’s only endless love behind it. sometimes you just gotta let off a bit of steam and we both just get that.

“fine, i’m sorry. sickness really does turn you soft, huh?” i smirk.

“why’re you saying it like you just confirmed a theory?”

“mary lou told me once and i’ve been waiting ever since to see for myself, guess she was right.”

“you are actually the worst. i’m hanging up now. drink water, bye.”

he hangs up the phone and i laugh to myself. what a big baby.

i open chris’ chat and type in a message telling him i’m going to sleep and that i will call him once i wake up again. i don’t bother waiting for a reply and just put the phone on my nightstand. i turn on my side, close my eyes and after that i don’t notice anything anymore.

i jolt up from bed, breathing heavy, body sweaty and heart racing. my room is dark, lit up only by the moon shining through my window. i look around trying to remember where i am and shake the nightmare from my mind.

i reach for my phone and check the time.

11:43 pm

i turn on the flashlight and right when i notice a black jacket hung over the back of my desk chair i hear footsteps coming closer.

chris pushes the door open and steps in.

“oh shit, did i wake you?”

“no i had a nightmare. what are doing here?”

i sit upright in bed and turn the flashlight off when chris flips the switch to turn on the fairy lights around the edges of my ceiling.

he moves to sit on the bed next to me before he answers, “i had mom teach me how to make her get-well-quick-soup and brought you some. she also told me about the perfect remedy tea, i can make it for you,” he stands up again immediately, “i’ll heat up the soup for you first. shit ma, have you even eaten anything today?” he stands by the door, holding the handle but looking back over his shoulder at me.

“chris,” i honestly don’t know what to say to him. he is so sweet i have to fight the tears that build up on my waterline. i just look at him for a moment, a little smile ghosting on my lips.

i’m well aware of how caring, considerate and compassionate chris is as a person in general, but it still baffles me sometimes how much he goes out of his way to make others feel good. i guess i’m just not used to it, being loved like this, having someone do everything that lies in their hands - and beyond that - just for me. it’s astonishing to say the least. especially when i myself have had issues with showing how deeply i cherish somebody ever since i can remember. it’s probably rooted somewhere in my past and how my affection has been received and responded to, that’s what my therapist says anyway.

i shake myself out of my thoughts and move the blanket away from my body to finally get up. immediately chris is beside me, holding me in place, “what’re you doing, ma? stay here i’ll bring it up,” he talks quietly, trying to get me to take in my previous lying position but i stay put on the ground.

“babe, i have been in this bed almost all day. i need to get up. i’ll just come down with you, we can eat together in the kitchen,” i try to convince him.

he looks at me, an uncertain expression on his face for a few seconds, the gears in his head almost visibly turning while he thinks about it. at last he lets out a sigh and nods, “alright then, hop on my back,” he bends over in a piggy back position in front of me and i can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“you do know i can walk, right?” i ask still chuckling.

“i know, come ooon, just do it,” he urges me on and wiggles his hips, making me laugh even harder when i climb on his back.

“you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow, chris,” i complain mournfully once he lets me down to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets to heating up the soup he brought.

chris insists he’s not prone to catch a cold or any sickness easily, no matter how contagious or how close to the source he might be, even though he has proven himself wrong multiple times on more occasions than he cares to admit.

“no i won’t. besides, i could use a few days off even if i have to be sick to get that,” he lets out a huff of air trying to make it sound humorous, but both of us - and everyone who knows chris for that matter - knows that he is exhausted and is in desperate need of a break.

i know he doesn’t want me to get serious about that topic right now though so i try to change routes, “oh my god,” he turns around from where he was stirring the soup on the stove and faces me, confused about my shocked exclamation. i point an accusatory finger at him, my jaw hanging low but a smile still creeping it’s way on my face.

“so that’s why you’re here. you came to try and get infected, that’s why you carried me down too even though you know damn well i coulda walked by myself. and i’m here thinking you were actually being the best boyfriend on earth. turns out my man is a piece of shit,” by the end i fail to stay serious and let out a giggle. well, it’s not like he actually believed that i meant what i was saying but still.

he lets go of everything he was holding, turns around to me fully and begins to stalk toward me slowly.

“oh yeah?” i don’t know if it’s just me or if he’s doing it on purpose but all of a sudden his voice sounds deeper, his face more stern and serious.

“is that what you think then? i’m just a piece of shit?” he makes me nervous at first but the second i see the smirk on his lips i know exactly what’s about to follow.

“chris. no.”

he is standing right in front of me, so close he has positioned himself in between my legs, his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me. the finger i was pointing at him long since taken back.

“am i a piece of shit when i make you cum with just my tongue?” his face is so close now.

“stop,” i say quieter than i mean to, almost whisper-like.

“or when i fuck you so good you can’t walk right for days, am i a piece of shit then?”

this asshole is doing it on purpose. he knows i would never have sex with him when i’m sick so he’s trying to rile me up the little fucker. have i mentioned that i actually hate him. like for real hate him. the type of hate that leads to an absolutely mindblowing fuck. shit.

“or yesterday when you told matt you needed a break and came downstairs to my room to suck me off and then you just wiped your mouth and went back up like nothing happened. did you do it because i’m a piece of shit?”

my jaw is on the floor.

“or when–”

“OKAY,” i practically scream, “you’re the best and i didn’t mean what i said, just please stop.”

i’m almost whining at this point.

i try to rub my legs together to ease some of the friction unnoticeably but chris is like a hawk, sees everything, notices everything. and then he smiles. just smiles and goes back to the soup.

later that night, after i was forced to eat almost all of the soup and drink two cups of magic tea while chris downed a cheese burger, fries and three of the last four pepsi cans i had in my fridge, we snuggled up on the couch with a heavy blanket that chris had also asked his mom for, thrown over both of our laps and a random movie playing on the tv.

neither one of us actually felt like watching something but we threw it on as background noise anyway. chris and i have barely seen each other in almost two weeks so all we want right now is to enjoy each other's company. he has been so busy with all that’s coming up for him and his brothers, still is. and i've been studying like crazy because i always feel like i won’t pass if i don’t and when i wasn’t busy with that i’d be at work to earn my living and feel like i’m doing enough. so there wasn't really time for us to actually be together and get to enjoy it. i've missed it.

“you know you’re probably sick because you exhaust yourself all the time,” chris says when he turns to look at me.

“shh,” i shush him with my eyes closed and a smile on my lips, “i got it from matt, no discussion.”

he lets out a little laugh at that, “yes discussion. if you keep going like that, one day it’s gonna have more serious effects on your health than a cold. you don’t even need to do all that. how many times do i have to tell you your life is worth enough even if you don’t work yourself half to death and have a little fun every once in a while,” he rubs my thigh while talking. chris knows better than anyone that i don’t like being put on the spot and lectured about my not-so-healthy habits like that, especially when i know exactly that it’s in fact very unhealthy. but he also insists on having these talks with me because he knows i would shut out everyone else who’d dare to try immediately. he and his brothers are the only three people i have let come so close and they make use of that quite often, might i say. but it’s okay because these people are my best friends and i know i need to be put in check sometimes, i admit. nobody else would dare try but them so i just let them.

i must say, it has helped me improve my life to an extent. they taught me that it’s okay to cut ties with people who are bad for my mental health and encourage bad habits, and that i don’t owe shit to them even if they want to make me believe that. they kept telling me “quality friends are worth so much more than a big amount of bad ones” until it finally clicked in my brain and i blocked half of my contact list.

“look who’s talkin’. mister i work twice as hard as the person i try to lecture,” i jab my finger in his side and he jerks.

“you know that’s different,” he holds my hands in his to stop me from doing it again.

i like feeling his hands on mine. i know he’s my boyfriend and it might be weird to say it like that. but i haven’t seen him in so long, which means i also haven’t felt him in so long. it’s crazy but it almost feels like in the beginning when we were scared to touch each other and would act like we accidentally brushed our hand on the other but we both knew it was fully on purpose.

chris pulls me out of my thoughts again when he speaks, “at least i have an end in sight and work’s gonna be way more relaxed once i’m done with everything. with you there’s always–”

the ringing of his phone cuts him off and he takes a look at the caller id, his mom. he narrows his eyes at me and gives me a look that says “we’re not done yet” but picks up the phone and holds it up so she can see the both of us on the screen.

“i was going to ask chris about you but since you’re with him please pinch him for me,” is the first thing mary lou says when she looks at us. and i gladly do as she says even though i don't know what he did to deserve it.

“oww, what was that for?” chris asks whining and i just shrug and chuckle.

“you told me you would bring y/n the soup and go back home. you lied to me.”

i turn to him with my mouth hanging open, “christopher owen, how dare you?”

it’s so fun to aggravate chris.

he furrows his brows at me and then looks back at the screen, “she literally begged me,” he straight up lies. “i was trying to tell her i didn’t wanna get sick so i could only drop off the soup and blanket and would have to leave again but then she started crying–”

i hit him for real this time, hard enough to make him suck air through his teeth.

“mary lou, don’t believe a word he says.”

“i know, darling, you wouldn’t do that. chris, that’s twice you’ve lied today.”

“sorry, mom,” he actually looks defeated now, “you know i can’t just leave her all alone when she’s like this. i lied because i didn’t wanna worry you. i won’t get sick though,” at that me and her give each other a knowing look but let him continue, “y/n’s weak and in pain, of course i’ll be by her side as much as i can, you probably knew i was here, that’s why you called me,” chris wiggles his finger at his mom with a cheeky smile while she’s trying to hide her own.

“alright, alright,” she gives in, “that’s how young love is, i guess. anyway, have you eaten the soup yet?”

“almost all of it,” i report proudly, rubbing my stomach.

“only forced,” chris side-eyes me and i roll my eyes at him.

“and the tea?” mary lou just keeps going. well, i definitely know where her son gets the caring from.

i grab the mug that’s been sitting on the table for two hours and could now be considered iced tea and hold it up for her to see, “this is my third,” i take a sip.

“very good. okay, well, i just wanted to check if chris is taking good care of you. it’s important for you to get enough rest, don’t go to sleep too late, alright darling? i have to go now but if you need something just give me a call. i’ll talk to you both in the morning. good night, i love you,” she blows two kisses as we tell her we love her and then she ends the call.

right when chris puts his phone down we hear the doorbell ring.

we both glance at the direction of the front door as if we could see through it and figure out who’s standing on the other side. then we turn and look at each other.

“expecting someone?” chris asks me and i just shake my head no and shrug unknowingly.

“open up!” the voice sounds muffled but it’s unmistakably matt.

chris rolls his eyes and sighs loudly and i just giggle.

he moves the blanket and gets up to go open the door but stops in his tracks suddenly, turns around again, bends down and kisses me.

“won’t be able to do that for a while if he’s here,” he explains before he goes.

matt and nick do complain every time we kiss in front of them, so we agreed on trying not to do it anymore. they act like little kids being forced to see their parents being all lovey-dovey with each other. at least one of them always yells “GET A ROOM!” as if they’re not invading our personal space. big babies, like i said.

“what’s up, bitches?” nick walks in wearing the pajamas we wanted to match, holding up his hands. one holding what i assume is my set of the exact same one and a pillow in his other hand.

i jump up from the couch immediately and squeal as i run toward him to hug him.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once we let go of each other, our smiles still as big as ever.

“since chris is here breathing in germs and this one,” he points his thumb over his shoulder where matt is giving chris a pajama pair, “is already sick i thought we might as well have our movie night here since i’m getting it from one of you either way.”

“i’m so happy,” i squeak, elongating the words.

“aren’t you happy to see me too?” matt acts sad and offended when he moves to stand next to nick.

i roll my eyes but give him a big hug, “i am actually.”

chris scoffs and we all laugh. he moves to stand closer to me and i wrap my arms around him, tilting my head to look at him.

“you guys can go in the kitchen, grab some snacks while me and chris put on our pajamas,” i say to nick and matt, my eyes still locked on my boyfriend.

they do as they’re told once the’ve put down their things and soon enough they’re out of sight.

“you good?” chris asks me quietly, stroking my hair gently

“yeah. i just realized our alone time is over,” i respond in a hushed tone.

he gives me a kiss on the forehead before he talks, “it’s okay, we’ll just go up to your room when they’re asleep. nothing’s keeping me away from you tonight.”

hearing it makes comfort spread in my chest in a way i didn’t know i needed right now.

“i love you so much, chris. thank you for everything,” i try to sound genuine, because i truly am.

he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger and dips his head until his lips meet mine.

“i love you too, ma.”

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@strniolosworld @that-general-simp @sturniolosreads @whoreforchr1s

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic

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writersblockiskillingme · 5 months

Text

The Great War | Finnick Odair

Pairing/s: Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Summary: After everything that you've been through during the rebellion you finally found the peace with Finnick.

Warning/s: angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, war, weapons (reader has a knife), bow and arrows, trident, axe, syringe, violence, fighting, Katniss gets struck by lightning, blood, trust issues, attempted suicide (not graphical, but it's talked about), wounds, pills, trauma, Finnick ALMOST dying, Snow's execution and Coin's death, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Once again, a fic inspired by Taylor Swift's song (are we really surprised?)

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

The heat was getting to your head, it was staring to be too much. It already was.

The holes in your bodysuit that were the consequence of the poisonous fog were everywhere it seemed like. Your hair was sticking to your face because of the sweat from the intense heat and exhaustion. You gripped your knife that seemed to fit you a little too perfectly. The golden earing that Haymitch gifted you so that Katniss could recognize you as one of her allies was hitting the side of your face as you ran to the lightning tree.

You were terrified. You were in on the plan to get Katniss out, of course. Everyone except Katniss and Peeta was.

You did your part. You joined Johanna and cut out the tracker inside of Katniss' arm. But that's when things went wrong. One of the carriers attempted to attack you. It was dark, tropical trees were everywhere, you couldn't see anything. You didn't know who attacked you. All you knew was that you pushed Katniss away to keep her hidden and Johanna ordered you to run while she distracted the person who tried to attack. For a moment you stood there frozen, hesitant. Johanna Mason then swinged her axe at you and you had no choice but to bolt away as fast as you could.

Your mind was racing too fast. Finnick. Katniss. You had to get to that tree to make sure that they are there. That they are okay because you were one hundred percent sure that if they weren't you would lose your mind. You would become the madness itself.

You didn't hear anything but two pairs of footsteps running somewhere north from you. You kept running, trying to ignore the intense dehydration, heat and exhaustion. But as you didn't hear nor see Johanna after a while you started to seriously regret your decision.

You pushed your was through to the lightning tree. You didn't have time to catch your breath because it was immediately knocked out of you as you saw Katniss pointing her arrow at Finnick. He was still holding his trident, but you know that he wouldn't use it even if she did shoot him.

"Katniss!" Your raspy voice yelled out, Finnick immediately turned to you. A look of relief washing over him as he saw you.

"Remember who the real enemy is." Finnick reminded the girl on fire and at that moment realization washed over her. You could see it.

She looked at Beetee who was unconscious behind her. The coil was still there. She quickly picked it up, wrapping it around her arrow before pointing it at the sky.

At that moment both fear and adrenaline washed over you. She was going to blow up the arena once the lightning strikes the tree.

"Katniss!" Finnick's voice rang out. "Get away from that tree!"

You started to panic. You were getting out of time. Finnick, Katniss, Beetee and you were the only ones who came. Johanna was nowhere to be found. Peeta didn't return yet. Your ever racing mind pushed you to run towards Finnick as fast as you could.

"Katniss, get away from that tree!" Finnick's voice rang out once more before you saw it.

Katniss pointed at the sky, the lightning striked the tree and she let the arrow fly.

The last thing that you saw was the bright light from the lightning, a bloody screams that left Katniss' and your mouths and a painful grunt from the love of your life before the mere force of the lightnings hit sent you flying into the trees behind you before the darkness overtook you.

Once you woke up everything was hurting you. You felt so numb. You felt so numb yet you somehow felt everything. It was truly horrific.

The oxygen mask was planted onto your face as your eyes scanned the unknown territory. Everything was white and so clean. You turned your head to the side and spotted Katniss Everdeen, still knocked out beside you, and Beetee, not that far away from you. He was still unconscious, too. At that moment, you felt panic arise in your chest, consuming you. Where was Finnick?

You violently ripped the oxygen mask from your face as you stood up, ignoring the sharp pain that traveled across your body. What were you going to do? You patted your thigh, but your knife was gone. You knew that you weren't thinking rationally, but you never did when it came to him.

You spotted a see-through box a few feet away from you. A syringe was in there. It was filled with an unknown liquid, but you guessed that someone knocked you unconscious with this so you took the risk as you placed the syringe in the palm of your hand.

You strolled silently towards the door. You jumped a bit as the door suddenly opened. You raised the syringe in the air, ready to attack anyone who stood behind the door if you needed to.

You felt yourself slowly lowering the syringe in your hand as you saw who stood in front of you. Haymitch and Plutarch Heavensbee. You made it. You were relatively safe. But not seeing Finnick didn't calm your nerves. If anything it just fueled the fire in your veins.

"Where is Finnick?" You hissed out, your voice dangerously lowered that you scared yourself for a brief moment. You knew that you probably looked like a mad woman, but you didn't really find it in yourself to care.

"Y/N." Haymitch slowly approached you, he raised his hands in the air in front of him as an attempt to both calm you down and show you that he won't hurt you. "He's here. On the chair, he's still unconscious."

You turned to look at the side that Haymitch was pointing at and there he was. In a blue shirt that was too big for him. You threw the syringe onto the desk in the middle of the room as you stared at him. Relief washing over you like the waves back at your District.

"What happened while I was out?" You asked Haymitch waiting for an explanation as you didn't take your eyes off of Finnick.

"We couldn't rescue Johanna and Peeta." Haymitch sighed, he was obviously afraid that you would try to attack again and this time succeed after you hear the news that he had for you. "They still have trackers in their arms. We cut Finnick's, Beetee's and yours out after we rescued you."

He stopped here and you waited. You waited for his words to finally hit you.

"The Capitol took Peeta and Johanna."

Out of nowhere, the darkness overtook you once again. The last thing you remember was Haymitch catching you in his arms and Finnick yelling out your name.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War

The room of the hospital wing at District 13 was dimly lit. The cold metal walls of one of the hospital rooms felt like they were closing in on you, cutting the space for you to breath. Perhaps that was one of the reasons as to why your breaths came in ragged gasps as you suddenly woke up from your state. You sat up in your bed, sweat-soaked and still trembling. Another nightmare. The same one that haunted your every dream, every night, since the first night that you left the arena from your games. The arena, the blood, the faces of those you had to kill. Everything came back to haunt you once again.

Suddenly the door slid open with a harsh, quick movement.

Finnick slept in the room next door. You knew he was there, even before you heard the footsteps approaching. Pretty soon your suspicions were proven to be correct. There he was, shirtless and disheveled, concern etched on his face.

"Y/N." He whispered, crossing the room in a few strides. His arms enveloped you, pulling your crying, shaking form close to him providing the protection that you needed. "Another nightmare?"

You felt yourself nod, burying your face in his chest as you tried your hardest to just dissappear. His skin was warm against your cold, tear stained cheek, a stark contrast to the icy memories that plagued you.

"I can't escape them, Finnick." Your voice shook, a sob at the tip of your lips. "Their screams, the blood... everything. I relive it each and every night since that year."

He held you tighter, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back.

"You're safe here now, darling." He murmured. "We're in 13. The Capitol can't touch us here." He talked, as if he tried to remind you where you are right now, trying to pull you away from the horrific nightmare that he was oh so familiar with himself.

"The guilt is eating me alive." Your voice cracked, a silent tear sliding down your cheek. "I killed them. How can I possibly live with that?"

Finnick tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His sea-green eyes bore into yours, fierce and unwavering.

"My love, listen to me." His soft voice spoke to you. "We all did what we had to do. The Games were a nightmare, but we made it out. We're alive."

"But at what cost?" Tears welled up, threatening to spill. "I can't forget their faces. The ones I killed. The ones that I left behind..."

"You promised me something, remember?" He wiped a lost tear away with his thumb. "Back before I was forced to send you into that arena alone. You promised me that you will survive and come back to me. You did."

"I know, but-"

"No buts." His voice was firm, it reminded you of the time that he trained you before you went into the arena for the first time. Back when you two were just a mentor and a tribute, nothing more. "You're so much stronger than you think you are, love. We all carry scars, but they don't define us. I want you to promise me something now."

"And that is?" You asked him as you kept your eyes on him.

"Promise me that you won't cry anymore. Not because of the Capitol or the nightmares. We survived, Y/N. And we'll keep surviving."

You hesitated, but then you nodded. "I promise."

"Good. Now get some rest. I'll be right here when you wake up." Finnick pressed his lips to your forehead, a gentle kiss that sent warmth through your veins.

As you settled back against the pillows, his arms were still wrapped around you, giving you sense of protection you came to a realization that maybe you could find comfort in the darkness that seemed to constantly try to consume you. With Finnick by your side, the nightmares seemed less terrifying, and the promise that you made him that night felt like it will last a lifetime.

And so, in the quiet of that hospital room in District 13, underground, you closed your eyes, vowing to keep your promise. No more fear, you knew that you would be all right as long as your love was next to you.

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it

The sterile white walls of District 13's hospital pressed in on you, suffocating you, stripping you of fresh air that your lungs needed right now. You sat at the edge of your hospital bed, your fingers tracing the material of the purple medical bracelet around your waist that said that you were "Mentally disoriented". The label of the chaos that boiled within you.

The doctors came and went, you heard their voices, but they didn't reach your brain, your messed up mind. They offered so many pills, you didn't even know what pill was for what anymore. They offered therapy sessions and worst of all, sympathetic glances. They looked at you like you were broken and you were, but you hated it with burning passion. Yet after all of that, you couldn't trust them. Not after everything that you went through. The arena, the cruelty of the Capitol, the loss of your friends. The nightmares that still clung to you like shadows, following your every step, and the darkness that constantly threatened to swallow you whole.

Finnick sat beside you. His hand brushed against yours, a silent reassurance. His eyes held a depth of understanding. The kind of understanding that came only from someone who survived the horrors too immense to name.

"You don't have to face this alone." He said softly. His voice was your lifeline, pulling you back from the endless abyss. "Y/N, let them help you."

"They don't understand, Finnick." You whispered in the quietness of the room. "They can't understand."

"Maybe not, but I do." His thumb traced circles on your palm.

"Finnick, I-" You met his gaze, the weight of your pain reflected in his sea-green eyes.

Before you could finish, though, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. It was a desperate kiss, fueled by fear and longing. His mouth tasted of salt and the sea.

"Don't shut me out." He murmured against your lips, his voice sweater then honey. "I can't lose you, too."

"I'm broken, Finnick." Tears welled up blurring your vision.

"No." He said fiercely. "You're not broken. You're a survivor. And you're mine."

Finnick pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you were fragile glass. His heartbeat echoed against your chest, a rhythm of hope.

"Promise me." He whispered. "Promise me that you won't try to leave me behind again."

The memory of the razor blade, the cold metal against your skin, haunted you. You'd wanted an escape, a way to silence the screams of your fellow tributes that echoed in your mind. But the doctors had intervened, wrestling the blade from your trembling hand.

"I promise." You choked out. "But what if I can't keep it?"

"Then I'll be here." He vowed, his grip on your hands tightened. "Every step of the way. We'll fight this darkness together."

And so, in the sterile hospital room that you were forced to stay in, Finnick and you clung to each other. The fragile threads of two broken souls entwined. Finnick's love was a lifeline, pulling you back from the blink. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to believe that survival was possible. Even when the nightmares threatened to consume you.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, the burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

Uh-huh

The air was thick with tension, the walls of District 13 trembling as the Capitol’s bombs rained down upon them. Finnick now stood alongside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. His sea-green eyes were filled with worry, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest once again.

The lockdown sirens blared, drowning out the screams of panic echoing through the corridors. People rushed past you, seeking shelter, but you and Finnick remained rooted to the spot. The world outside seemed to blur as you clung to each other, seeking solace in the midst of chaos.

“Y/N.” Finnick whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll get through this. Somehow we always do.”

You nodded, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. His stubble scratched against your skin, a familiar sensation that grounded you. The Capitol had taken so much from both of you—the Games, the torture, the loss—but here, in this moment, you had each other.

The bombs continued to fall, shaking the ground beneath your feet. You pressed your cheek against Finnick’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. His hand slid down to your lower back, holding you close as if he could shield you from the destruction outside.

“I love you.” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the chaos everywhere around you. “After all this is over, I promise I won’t fight anymore. No more battles, no more bloodshed.”

Finnick’s grip tightened. “Y/N, you don’t have to—”

“No.” You interrupted. “I mean it. We’ve both seen enough violence, lost enough people. If we survive this war, I want a different life. A peaceful one. With you.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning.

“A peaceful life...” he repeated, as if testing the words. “Together.”

“Together.” You nodded, your heart swelling with determination.

And so, as the bombs continued to fall, you made a silent vow. You would survive this war, not for the rebellion or for justice, but for the chance to hold Finnick Odair in your arms without fear. To build a future where love could flourish, where scars could heal, and where promises were kept.

In the chaos of District 13’s lockdown, you clung to each other, two souls battered by the storm. But love was your anchor, and as long as you had that, you knew you could weather anything—even the wrath of the Capitol.

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Your finger on my hair pin triggers

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you

The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering fluorescent bulbs casting eerie shadows on the cold metal walls. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for Finnick. The room where the victors were supposed to meet felt like a prison. A place where memories of the Games and the Capitol’s cruelty still lingered.

The rebellion had succeeded. The Capitol was in chaos, its once-mighty regime crumbling. But victory came at a cost. The mutts, the twisted, genetically engineered creatures, had nearly taken Finnick from you. Katniss had told you about it, her voice raw with emotion. How he’d fought tooth and nail, how he’d almost been torn apart.

And now, as you waited, your fingers trembling, you couldn’t shake the image of his bloodied form from your mind. The way he’d looked at you before leaving for that final mission, the promise in his eyes, the unspoken words that he will return to you alive, in one piece. You’d clung to that promise, held it close like a fragile flame in the darkest of nights.

The door creaked open, and there he was, Finnick Odair, the boy with the sea-green eyes and the tragic past. His hair was disheveled, his skin pale, but he was alive. He stepped into the hallway, and you rushed to him, throwing your arms around his neck. His scent, the salt of the sea that carried itself back from your home, the tang of sweat, filled your senses, and you buried your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“Finnick.” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You’re here. You’re alive.”

His arms tightened around you, and for a moment, you forgot about the war, the mutts, the bloodshed. It was just the two of you, clinging to each other like shipwreck survivors in a stormy sea.

“I promised, didn’t I?” His voice was hoarse, but there was a hint of a smile. “I always keep my promises.”

You pulled away, your hands delicately framing his face. His cheek was bruised, a gash running along his jawline. But his eyes, they held a fierce determination, a fire that refused to be extinguished.

“You idiot!” you said, your voice trembling. “You almost died.”

“But I didn’t. And I won’t. Not as long as you’re here.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you kissed him, desperate, hungry, as if you could swallow away the pain, the fear, the memories. His lips were warm, tasting of salt and survival. And in that kiss, you made a silent vow, a promise of your own.

“After this war...” you whispered against his mouth, “we’ll find a place where the sea meets the sky. Somewhere far from the Capitol, far from the Games. We’ll heal, Finnick. Together.”

He kissed you again, and this time, it was slow, tender. “Together.” he murmured. “Always.”

And so, in the hallway of broken dreams, you held each other, two fractured souls seeking solace. The victors’ meeting could wait. For now, all that mattered was this fragile moment, the taste of salt, the warmth of love, and the promise of a future beyond the horrors of Panem.

We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

The air in District 13 was thick with tension as the rebels gathered to witness the execution of President Snow. The Capitol had fallen, and the weight of years of suffering and loss hung heavily on everyone's shoulders. Finnick, like always, stood beside you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as you both faced the president.

The crowd murmured, their collective breaths held. The noose tightened around Snow's neck, and the man who had orchestrated so much pain and death finally met his end. You didn't feel relief; instead, a hollow emptiness settled within you. The cycle of violence had consumed too many lives, and you wondered if it would ever truly end.

After the execution, you and Finnick retreated to your small quarter that was given to you at the presidential palace. You packed the few belongings you had left, folding clothes and tucking away mementos. Finnick watched you, his eyes shadowed by the ghosts of the arena.

"Y/N." he said softly, breaking the silence. "We've survived so much. But now… maybe it's time for something different."

You turned to face him, your heart aching. "Different how?"

He stepped closer, cupping your cheek. "Peace, Y/N. We've fought, bled, and lost. Maybe it's time we find our own peace."

His words resonated within you. You thought of the horrors you'd witnessed—the Hunger Games, the rebellion, the deaths of friends. The scars ran deep, and you wondered if healing was even possible.

As if sensing your turmoil, Finnick pulled you into his arms. His embrace was both tender and desperate.

"We finally get to leave." he murmured against your hair. "Find a quiet place in 4, away from the chaos. Somewhere we can heal."

"But Katniss…" you began, thinking of the broken girl who had become the Mockingjay.

Finnick kissed your forehead. "Katniss will find her way. She's strong. And she has Peeta."

The next morning, you stood with Finnick on the platform in front of the train that would take you to District 4. Katniss approached, her eyes red-rimmed from grief and exhaustion. You took her hands, feeling the weight of her pain.

"Katniss, don't do this to yourself anymore, I beg you." Your soft voice reached her ears. "After everything… we'll try to find the peace we all deserve. I hope you find it too."

"Also, there is something that Finnick and I wanted to let you know before we leave the Capitol." you said gently.

She looked at you, her expression wary.

"I'm pregnant." you announced and Finnick's grip on your waist tightened.

Katniss blinked, surprise flickering across her face. "Pregnant?"

"Yes." you confirmed. "And Finnick and I… we've had enough bloodshed. It's time for us to find peace. Back at 4. Because we both know that we can't do it here at the Capitol."

Katniss's lips trembled. "Take care of each other." she whispered. "And write to me. Tell me whatever you need."

"We will." Finnick promised, placing a hand on her shoulder as he spoke. "And Katniss, find your own peace too. You deserve it the most."

As the train pulled away, you glanced back at Katniss. She stood there, a lone figure, watching you both leave. The world outside blurred, and you clung to Finnick's hand, knowing that this journey was about more than survival, it was about reclaiming life, love, and hope.

Together, you and Finnick leaned against the window, watching the landscape rush by. The Capitol, the districts, and the scars of war faded into the distance. Ahead lay an uncertain future, but for the first time, it felt like freedom.

And as the train carried you away, you whispered to the wind.

"Peace, Katniss. May you find it too."

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the worst was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, we're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the coast. You sat on the weathered driftwood, your sundress billowing in the breeze. The waves crashed against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby that matched the beat of your heart.

Finnick was out there, his laughter carried by the wind. He chased their little daughter, her giggles like music. She had his sea-green eyes and your stubborn spirit. Her tiny feet left imprints in the wet sand, and you watched them both, the man you loved and the child you'd brought into this world.

His white shirt clung to his chest, the fabric darkened by saltwater. His light brown pants were soaked, but he didn't care. Finnick had always been at home in the sea, a merman with secrets hidden beneath his skin.

You traced the delicate band on your finger, the wedding ring. The day you'd vowed to be one with Finnick forever played in your mind. The sun had been just as golden then, and the waves had whispered promises. You'd said "I do" with the ocean as your witness, and it felt like the universe itself had blessed your union.

Beside you layed Katniss' letter. Her words echoed in your head, a mix of sorrow and hope. She'd lost so much, fought so hard. But now, finally, there was peace. Peeta was by her side, both of them were healing together. The Mockingjay had found her song and it was a bittersweet melody.

You closed your eyes, feeling the salt spray on your skin. The sea had witnessed your love, your pain, and your victories. It had taken so much from you, the Games, the rebellion, the scars etched into your soul. But it had also given you Finnick, your anchor in this tumultuous world.

As if sensing your thoughts, Finnick approached. His hair was tousled, his smile soft. He sat beside you, your daughter nestled in his arms. She clutched a seashell, her eyes wide with wonder.

"She's growing up so fast." you murmured, leaning into Finnick's warmth.

"Too fast." He kissed your temple.

You glanced at the horizon. The sun was a fiery ball, sinking into the water. "Katniss wrote that Peeta and her found peace."

"It's about time." Finnick nodded.

"We've all shed enough blood for an eternity, perhaps even more than that." You rested your head on his shoulder.

He intertwined his fingers with yours. "Maybe now we can heal."

The waves whispered their agreement. You looked at your daughter, at the man who'd become your heart.

"We'll find our peace too, won't we?"

Finnick pressed his lips to your forehead. "After everything… we deserve it."

And as the sea sang its ancient song, you knew that love, like the tides, would flow. But here, by the coast, with Finnick and your daughter, you found solace. The wedding ring glinted in the fading light, a promise etched in metal.

Katniss's words echoed once more:

"May you find peace."

And you believed that you finally had.

Uh-huh

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

Uh-huh

I vowed I would always be yours

TAGLIST:

@randomgurl2326 @caroline-books @hellonheels-x @livingdead-reilly @thecrowdedstreetin1944

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wonderlandwalker · 5 months

Text

Frozen Solid | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Your past is haunting you, but Finnick is there to remind you it's going to be okay

Content Warnings/Tags: Nightmares, trauma, ANGST, character death, happy ending though dw, hypothermia, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested by Anon: Do you think you could do something fluffy with Finnick Odair x Víctor! Reader where the readers games were in the extreme cold and they say something like “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again” to Finnick

A/N: Please send me more requests! I am dying to keep writing but I don't have any more ideas. Also my spell check keeps telling me it's 'realized' not 'realised' and now I'm doubting my entire knowledge of the English language. Did not read this after writing it so praying my brain worked properly

To say the games left you with issues would be an understatement. But this particular memory always seemed to keep haunting you. Maybe that was because this had happened before you taught yourself to close yourself off from your problems. Maybe it was because you hadn't figured out how to find closure yet.

Maybe it was because you were still afraid. Afraid of the tribute towering over you. Even though you weren't a kid that hadn't hit your grow spurt anymore. Even though you weren't that defenseless, innocent child anymore. The tribute was still bigger, and simply the memories made you feel powerless.

The familiar trees surrounded you, but they didn't make you feel safe like they used to before. A layer of snow covered the leaves like a warm blanket, except it was anything but. You were shivering, trembling, not sure which one. So you ran, your fight or flight instincts trying to contradict the memory

So you ran from the man who had said he would help you. You ran from your problem. You ran from your fear.

But it didn't work, it never did. You ran out of the forest, but before you even realized, you were right back inside. Every time you ran you just got stuck again. But they were all different spots. All the ones where you had camped for the night, all the places where you sat silently, too scared to light a fire to warm yourself, not willing to take the risk of eating any food that needed cooking. They all made their way into your imagination, but they all had one thing in common, they made you feel afraid. For most, you thought, childhood memories should resemble a sense of ease, of making you feel secure.

But that feeling had disappeared for you when you first entered the arena. You could still see it in front of you as if it was a crystal clear picture. Your platform had come to a stop, and at first, you were blinded by the light, the bright sun. Your mind had tricked you into thinking the sun meant warmth, and comfort. But when your eyes adjusted, and you saw the frozen lake you were placed over. You saw the cornucopia, on a frosted island in the middle. It had weapons and food, but most importantly, it had thick coats and fur blankets. You wonder sometimes if you should have gotten one, if it would have helped you, but the risk was too great, so once you heard the canon, you immediately ran in the opposite direction, for the forest behind you.

The first thing you did was look for a freshwater source, but everything, everything, was frozen. When you had become desperate, you had started to punch a hole into the thick ice. It took a long time before you broke through the surface, your hands weren't strong enough, but you didn't give up. There was a small crack, and it gave you hope to continue. When you had managed to get to the water, your knuckles were bleeding, and you could see bruises starting to form. But it didn't matter. You had done it. You cupped your hands into the water and felt the cold come over them once again. It was soothing, in a way. Your hands had become warm from the strain, but it was the first time you had felt any sense of warmth since you entered, so you were disappointed to lose it.

You brought the water to your lips, and took a sip from it. You could feel it course through your body, and while it satisfied your thirst, it felt as if there was ice inside your veins. You had been cold up to now, but it was nothing compared to this. You could feel your insides losing temperature from the icy water.

You saw him walking your way, and even if you tried to forget, you could see his face in so many details. From his freckles that you had always admired to the dark look that filled his eyes as he came closer

You knew there was no use in running, but you still did, not wanting to confront him, having avoided doing so for as long as you can now remember. But all it did was pull you back into the forest.

He came from the same district as you, he had said you reminded him of his little sister, and he had offered a pact. You still weren't sure why, you didn't have much to offer him. But now you guess it must have been his own memories, his own innocence wanting to help the girl that you made him think of, made him think there was still good left in him. And so you accepted, and in a way, you were grateful, because you never would have won without him, but the turmoil that stuck with you was heartbreaking. Maybe it would have been easier if it had all been over then.

He was still walking towards you, and even though he wasn't saying a word, you could tell what was going on inside his head. You could see it by the way he walked, how his arms stayed tightly next to his body. You could even hear him yelling at you in your head.

You walked backwards until you hit one of the trees. You started calling out for help, even though you were fully aware no one would come. There was no one else left. You screamed, asking for someone to help you, and the fear made your voice shiver. You knew it was the fear this time. Your body had stopped shaking from the cold after a few days. You had thought that was it, your body had given up, the cold finally having overpowered it.

You stood up, scrambling to your feet. For once, you felt warm again, you felt the blood dilating your vessels, but you knew better than to get hope. You have seen this. You had seen this in other tributes. Your body making a last attempt to warm you up, giving you a boost of power right before it would all be over. In a way you were grateful, it would finally be over. You didn't even want to win anymore, you just wanted to be warm.

But your instincts still told you to run, and with the extra energy coursing through you, you did.

You ran to the frozen lake, to where it had all begun, it was the only thing you could think of to go to. You ran, you ran until could no longer even feel your legs moving. He followed behind you, of course he did. He was close behind, but you were smaller, you were leaner, and you might not have as much stamina, but when it came to a fast sprint you could only just outrun him. You didn't even watch where you were going anymore. The more you ran, the colder you started to feel again. You wanted to stop, to not lose any more. To keep this little bit you had been given, but you weren't sure it would even stay if you did.

The trees started to disappear, and before you knew it, you were on the lake. When you had first gotten here, the lake had seemed peaceful, tranquil. But now, it was nothing short of a battlefield. The bodies might have been taken away, but the blood still stained the ice, and the axes and spears still stuck out of it like weeds disturbing the carefully crafted landscape.

You ran as far as your fleeting body could carry you. You felt it before you saw it. Ice freezing cold. This was it, this was the end. It wasn't a haven to be at peace, it was even colder than you had been. Your clothes were clinging to your body like the blankets of snow you had first noticed. Your hair was stuck to your forehead and your neck.

You remember in the beginning, when you would run, and you would sweat. It was the first time you had carefully appreciated it in your life, the warm droplets gracing your skin. But not anymore, if your body even had the energy to sweat, it was cold, it stuck to you like the first rain of autumn. The brisk wind in combination only making you shiver more.

So you opened your eyes, if this was the end you had hoped for, you didn't want it anymore. You opened your eyes and focused on your senses. You saw the lake, but it had risen. You had fallen in it. You looked around you and saw the cracks in the frozen surface.

The fights, the violence, it hadn't just taken a toll on you. The ice was suffering just as much. It was hard to see from the snow that covered it, but from where you were, you could see it from the footsteps that had disturbed it. You looked behind you, and you saw him again. He had seen you fall in, and halted. You could see relief come over him. Relief that he wouldn't be the one to have to kill you, that the water would do it for him. You almost felt bad for him, he hadn't wanted any of this either. And if you had been in his situation, you weren't sure you wouldn't have done the same thing.

But the water was your friend, at least it used to be.

In your district, you grew up surrounded by it. Going to the sea in the summer, swimming until the sun went down. You remember you used to get so cold when it disappeared and you were left on the beach alone. But now you longed for it.

So you swam, you swam until you felt your hands meet the solid surface of ice again. You had been light before you came here, the lack of food taking a toll on everyone you know, but it was worse now. The only thing you knew how to get was fish. You knew how to fish, but anything else you had counted on was not there. There were no berries on trees, there were no plants that could survive in this environment. And so your frame had become even slimmer. Your arms were trembling as you tried to lift yourself. You weren't sure if you would manage. This couldn't be the end. If it ended like this, your body would float away in the water like the ice that was floating on it, and you would always be cold.

With a surge of motivation, you lifted yourself onto the surface and as soon as you did you fell down on your back. You looked up, thinking you had done it, you could rest now. You looked up at the sky, the sun was there, but you didn't trust it anymore.

You heard something else move, and it made your head snap up. He was still there.

He considered his steps, he couldn't reach you from where he was. But it was just the two of you, and something had to give. So he walked around the hole you had fallen into. He traced around it. He stood in the footsteps that had already been placed in the snow.

But you didn't care anymore. You had gotten yourself out of the water, and you laid your head back down, looking back at the sun. Trying to recall the memories it held. But you couldn't feel it anymore, you couldn't feel the radiating heat. So you made peace with being cold, at least it would be over soon.

If he had left you be, your body probably would have given up before his did. But he wanted it to be over too, he didn't want to wait any longer. He took another step, and you could hear the crack that echoed through the empty space. You looked at him, and you saw him realising his mistake as it happened. The footsteps had looked like a path, but really, they were weak spots. The steps had caused the ice strain, and it had decided it had had enough.

The cracking sound continued, until you could see the ice start to get lopsided. It started to slide towards the open water you had fallen into. You could see his eyes plead, he had convinced himself he had already won, and he was watching all his hopes disappear with one shift of snow. He fell in the water, but he wasn't friends with it. He trashed and tried to move forward, but his body was too broad, and all it did was exhaust him further. You wanted to reach out for him, to help him. You knew the cold that engulfed the water and you didn't want him to die that way. But all it would do was drag you in with him, and you found yourself watching. You watched him as his head sank under, you kept watching as if he'd come back out. You watched until you heard the last canon.

It made you feel even colder. You thought it was over. But you could feel your heart stop, it didn't stop beating, it stopped giving you warmth. The last piece you had, had sunken down with him. Your head was filled with panic. You would never feel warm again, you don't think your body knew how to anymore, and your mind was too frozen over to even try. And just as you felt your heart slow down, just as you thought you would die in this permanent state of despair, you heard a voice calling out to you

It sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it. It felt like a star calling to you, telling you to follow it into the sky, to fly, to be free, free of this fear.

It told you to wake up.

Before you knew it the smell of pine left you, being replaced with a mix of sea salt and jasmine, it smelt like home

You felt someone shaking you lightly, and you realised the smell wasn't bound to your surroundings, but the person that was next to you.

"Sweetheart, you need to wake up, you keep shaking." He told you in a sleepy, but still gentle voice.

As you started to get a better concept of your environment, you realised that in your distraught state, you had woken him up.

"I didn't mean to wake you I'm sorry, I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." You said, guilt already entering your mind.

"Hey, look at me, don't you dare apologise" He looked at you as if your worry pained him, and you couldn't stop the next words from leaving you.

"I'm scared I'll never be warm again Finnick" You started to cry, and he took you into his arms.

"If you're having nightmares, I will stay up with you until the sun rises again." He smiled down at you. And that's when you realized, he wasn't a star in the sky, he was the sun, he was your sun. His smile warmed you, and his arms around you made you believe again. He was your sun, and as long as you had him, he would warm you.

#finnick odair fic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick angst #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #angst #fluff

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atinyniki · 7 months

Text

flowers and confessions.

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!bangchan x f!reader

genre: fluff, pinch of angst

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, reader and chan are both whipped for eachother, chan is referred to as channie, yeji of ITZY and changbin have a crush on eachother in this au for the sake of the plot (NOT SHIPPING), reader and yeji are roommates, love confessions, college au, reader and chan like cooking together.

authors note: this is something i was doing with a friend of mine at uni a year back but he had a gf </3 i never ended up confessing, so i decided to make this story a happy ending :) this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 3733

“and she’s more of a tulip girl than a rose girl. got that?”

“yes ma’am”, chan chuckles nervously.

“listen to me chan. you’re a good man, and i know if she gives you a chance she’ll give in eventually. just… please don’t fuck it up.”

chan nods his head slowly, processing what she’s said to him. “okay, i’ll try my best not to. thank you, yeji”

she nods, escorting chan out of her home.

‘what could i do…?’, chan thinks to himself. the walk his dorm isn’t all that time consuming, but it feels even longer with the thoughts of you plaguing his mind.

the envelopes on his desk seem to strike up an idea. you guys are best friends, he doesn’t want to ruin anything of course. so… why not confess anonymously?

“like… love letters? from a secret admirer?”, changbin asks incredulously.

“yeah… im sure she’ll tell me about the letters and then… i can ask if she likes them. you know?”

changbin sighs, staring at chans lovestruck face. “you do you. i don’t need any letters because… i’ve got these.”, changbin says as he points to his biceps and wiggles his eyebrows. “shut up bin”, chan chuckles.

he quickly goes back to his room, writing the first letter as an opening. he quickly writes the letter, placing it in an envelope and closing it with a red wax stamp.

the excitement was getting to him, he had a hard time sleeping that night.

“seriously…?”, yeji stares at him, completely unamused.

“what… is it bad?”

“dude. i give you all of that info, and you use it for love letters?”

chan sheepishly nods at her. he knows it’s crazy, but he just doesn’t want to say anything face to face yet. you’re such great friends already, he’s afraid that he’ll ruin things.

“yeji, listen. this way, if i ask her about the letters and she says they’re weird or something, i won’t have to handle direct rejection. she would never know it was me.”

yeji seems to be understanding this more now. “ah… i see. go on then, make sure to make them super sappy. she loves that… for some reason.”, she rolls her eyes.

chan bows quickly, rushing to his next class. he can’t stand being late to this one. it’s his favorite class, not because of the subject, but because of you. seeing your face and being able to sit next to you brightens up his mondays every time.

you watch as he makes his way up the stairs, a small smile on his face. “hey chan”

“hey”, he says with a smile.

he takes a seat next to you, the warmth emitting from his body. you love that you can sit next to your best friend first thing in the morning, especially in the winter.

your professor walks in, and you both immediately focus on your work. mr. bae is no joke. chan makes small talk with you of course, as much as he possibly can without being scolded by your professor. he’s been caught too many times for him to be let off easy this time around.

class ends not too long after, meaning the two of you have to part ways for now. it’s okay though, you always hang out outside of school anyways.

you make your way to your locker to put away some things before your next class. you don’t have much time, but luckily the class is in the same hall.

you open the locker and put away your things, but something catches your eye. a beautiful pink tulip, placed nicely on top of a white envelope. there’s a cute heart on the wax seal, and you’re careful not to rip the envelope while you open it.

you begin to read the letter, a pink hue spreading across your cheeks as you process the words. your heart flutters in your chest, knowing that someone thinks about you in this way.

you don’t think your smile is all that special, but this person definitely thinks otherwise. you quickly put away the envelope, reminding yourself to dry press the tulip later.

all of a sudden, you’re smacked out of your thoughts. you run towards the hall. you’re definitely going to be late.

you arrive at chans with the ingredients, waiting for changbin to get back. you’re cooking his favorite today, so you’re very excited to see his reaction.

the tulip that your admirer gave you is pressed in between a stack of books, you plan on air drying and preserving it later.

“who gave the flower?”, he asks with a smirk.

“oh… no one”, you reply shyly.

he continues to wiggle his eyebrows at you, causing you to shove him playfully.

you and chan continue talking about some studies, when you hear changbin come in.

“chan?”

he stands in the doorway for a second, inhaling for a little while. he rushes to the kitchen when he smells it. “what is all this?”

“we decided to make your favorite tonight, help yourself. we’ll bring the danmuji out in a second”, you tell him.

he smiles so wide it almost reaches his eyes. “ooohhhh thank you thank you thank you! you did all this for meeeee?”, he says excitedly.

“it was all chans idea, thank him”, you chuckle.

changbin jerks his head towards chan, a cute pout on his face. “you did this for me channieee?”

chan stares at him for a little while before rolling his eyes. “no. why would i do it for you? shut up and eat now.”

you both knew it was all an act. as much as chan tried to pretend he hated changbin, you knew that it was just brotherly love.

“thanks chan”, he says with a smile.

chan can’t help but smile back.

you open your locker the next week to a black tulip, your heart sinking to your stomach.

you pick up the note, reading it quickly before you go to class.

“don’t worry, nothings wrong. i just gave you a black tulip this time since i always see you wearing black clothes. i assumed it’s your favorite color.”, it read.

the note went on with the usual, except this time it was about your nose. you giggled to yourself, the words lingering in your mind for far too long. your heart flutters in your chest thinking about who could possibly be writing these.

you run to class, afraid you’ll be late. you lost track of time reading the note, but you don’t regret it. not one bit.

you hope he’ll reveal himself soon.

“mmhhh noo…”, you whine.

chan giggles a little, pulling you closer into his embrace for a second. “i really need to go to the bathroom y/n…”

“you’re warm though…”

chan takes your hand in yours, “i’ll only be a minute. besides, you have the blanket.”

you nod, watching him go and sitting in the spot on the couch where he previously sat. the seat was warm still, almost enough to pull you into a slumber.

chan quickly locks himself in the bathroom, his heart beating almost a thousand times a second. why did he do that? why did he hold your hand… oh gosh. his entire face is red, he tries to wash it away. it doesn’t work.

maybe it’s his fault for sitting so close to you in the first place, but he can’t deny that he enjoyed it. he wants to be in your embrace forever.

“gosh… this is beautiful.”, you whisper to yourself. the note contained a little poem about your eyes this time. you didn’t think they had much effect on anyone.

you pick up the red tulip, admiring it for a moment before placing it back in your locker inbetween some tissues and a stack of books. you enjoyed pressing them.

that way, if you were to ever find your secret admirer, you could keep the memories of your feelings.

wait… feelings? do you like this guy? you don’t even know what he looks like! maybe they’re just… shy?

you never thought for once that a man would be too shy to see someone like you of all people. you’re not really all that special in your opinion, but surely there was more to you that this guy sees.

maybe you could go searching for him…

“you really like pressing those damn tulips.”

you chuckle nervously, “yeah… they’re really pretty”

chan is surprised you haven’t told him anything yet, but he makes sure not to push you. he doesn’t want to let anything slip.

chan sits back down on your bed, admiring you for a bit while you talk about some things that happen at school.

“and she’s been- she… why are you looking at me like that?”, you ask. the look on his face has you tripping on your words, oddly flustered.

“huh? o-oh… um.”, he stutters, afraid he’s made things awkward. he tries to think of an excuse quickly, “you still have a little sauce on your cheek.”

embarrassed, you wipe a bit at your cheek, trying to wipe the sauce that wasn’t even there in the first place. suddenly, chan speaks up. “i’ll get it.”

he scoots incredibly close to you, stroking your cheek and “wiping away the sauce”. your eyes widen, cheeks turning a bright red.

chan seems to notice, smirking at you again and wiggling his eyebrows. you scoff playfully, flicking his forehead causing him to recoil.

“heyyy! what was that for”, he says with a fake pout. you can only giggle at his antics, running a thumb over his forehead to ease the pain.

you continued going on about the girl in your class, ignoring the way chans close proximity made you feel.

“what the hell?”

the note came with a baby blue tulip this time, writing about how your voice makes his day. ‘so he knows me…’, you think to yourself.

maybe you two share a class or two. either way, you’re determined to find out. this time, you write a note in your locker for him to read the next week.

it’s a simple note, not as cute as his are. the only thing it asks is if you two share a class.

you hope he notices it next time, it’d be a shame if he didn’t. you place the note in your locker and quickly run back to class.

now that you think of it, he must have a class in the same hall as you since he always gets to your locker in the morning. maybe he’s in your first class.

wait. why are you so eager to know? gosh, how are you falling for someone when you don’t even know who they are?

“oh come onnn, please?”

“jeez, why do you wanna know so bad?”

“becauseee… you seem so happy when you get these flowers. do you finally have a boyfriend?”

you shoot him a look, shutting him up immediately. “what do you mean, “finally”? i’ve had many boyfriends before”, you say while shaking your head.

chan laughs beside you, causing you to laugh a little bit too. “well, the truth is, i don’t know who these flowers are coming from. someone puts them in my locker every monday with a love letter…”

chan looks at you, wide eyed. he fakes his surprise, “wait… you have a secret admirer?!”, he giggles.

“yeah… i guess i do”, you smile.

you turn your head to look at him again, his boba eyes staring right at yours. you can’t help but think back to what the note about your eyes said. does chan see them the same way? do you… want him to see them the same way?

chan pulls you into an embrace when he sees the look in your eye. “well, hopefully he reveals himself soon”

your face is painted with a light blush again. how could you possibly be falling for two men at once?

why do feelings have to be so confusing…?

the weeks go by, different tulips and notes arriving in your locker every week. you’ve confirmed that you’re both in first period together, but that seems like the only clue you’re getting for a while.

each day, you press the flowers and place them in your special frame next to the decorative box, in which you place the letters.

your frame is just a blob of colors now, the ivory, purple, and crimson tulips popping out the most.

you’ve been meeting with chan a lot more recently for movie nights. you’ll have to admit, they’re really fun, but you’re finding it difficult to evaluate your feelings.

you’ve started to develop stronger feelings for chan, as well as your admirer. your heart is torn between the two. you don’t know who to choose. you dont even know if you can begin to choose.

how could you break their hearts?

you wake up early in the morning, surprised because you normally can’t seem to bring yourself to open your eyes. you nuzzle closer into the warm pillow, wondering why it feels so much better than usual.

“sleep well?”, chans voice revertibrates through your entire being. you pull your hands back, scooting away from him and looking up.

“wait… i- what the hell?”

“hey it’s not my fault! you were incredibly drunk, and you insisted i stay.”

“oh…”

“oh channie… please stay! i can’t sleep without you… you’re so warm”, he mocks you and laughs.

your eyes go wide, a hand clamped over your mouth in shock.

“i actually said that…?”, you hide your face in your hands.

“no biggie”, he smiles.

you bury your face in your palms, embarrassed. you’re glad you didn’t let anything else slip out though. chan pulls you back into his embrace, drawing patterns on your back and laughing a little.

“hey, seriously. it’s fine, i don’t mind keeping you company you know. your channie will always be here”, he giggles.

“shut. up.”, you reply, your voice muffled in his chest.

you hear the door open, quickly jerking your head towards it. “you lovebirds done? i brought breakfast”, yeji smiles.

“yejiii” you whine, hiding your face again. chan gets out of bed, laughing again as he gets ready for the day.

“fuck…”, you mutter under your breath. it’ll be much easier to confess to chan right? you can confront him face to face, but with your admirer it’d be more difficult.

what if they’re just joking around? if you confess, the tulips will stop. you’ll have no more notes to keep in your box. but then again, if you do confess, there’s a high chance of the both of you ending up together.

there’s no way chan likes you, but you really need to get it off your chest. you can’t pursue your admirer while still having feelings for chan, that’s not fair to him.

if chan is so excited about this admirer, there’s no way he could actually like you… right? fuck it.

you run over to chans dorm, changbin opens the door for you. “y/n? chans not home right now, sorry.”

“yeah i know… i was um- i was meaning to talk to you actually.”

“oh! come in”, he says with a smile.

you explain the whole thing in depth to changbin, even your feelings for the two boys. changbin laughs to himself, ‘what has he gotten himself into?’, he thinks.

changbin doesn’t even seem to notice that tears are leaving your eyes. he quickly grabs your hand, running his thumb over it. “hey, i’m sure nothing bad will happen if you confess to chan. he loves you too much to let you go just because of a crush.”

“no but that’s the thing changbin! it’s not just a crush- i love him. i love the both of them. and i don’t know who to choose, or how to tell them, because it’s not fair to date one without telling the other and…”, you trail off.

“just tell chan you love him. and if you really want to win him over, tell him while you’re cooking or baking together or something.”

“what? why?”

“just do it, trust me.”

you nod, continuing to plan out your confession with changbin. you figure out how you’re going to confess, you hope chan will enjoy having his favorite dish.

“i should tell yeji about this too, she’ll probably have some advice.”

changbin goes silent, thinking about what else you could do. you notice the way his face goes red at the mention of your roommate.

hopefully he’ll confess too.

“i brought everything… what’s the occasion though?”

“you’ll see”, you say with a smile.

you both make your way to the kitchen, smiling along the way. of course your nervous, but it’s a lot easier when you have his reassuring smile.

it seems to be something that always puts you at ease, it’s one of the reasons you love him so much. you feel so safe with him.

you guys work on dinner, smiling and giggling the entire time. “that damn coral tulip really put you in a good mood hm?”

you chuckle a little, “hm, yeah”, you beam at him. hold on… did you tell him about the coral tulip? “wait… how do you know about the tulip”

“huh?”, chan seems to be confused, but then his eyes go wide. he realizes his mistake immediately, but he doesn’t know what to do.

“chan… i never told you anything about the tulip. how did you know what color it was?”

he opens his mouth to say something, but it won’t come out. “i…”, the lump in his throat rises more, cutting off his air flow. he’s seconds away from hyperventilating.

“channie, was it you the entire time?”

tears well up in his eyes, he didn’t want it to happen like this. he planned a whole reveal for you, and now it was all ruined.

you quickly turn off the stove, walking over to chan. you’re being careful not to scare him away, a smile on your face. “it’s you isn’t it?”

he nods softly, some tears escaping his eyes. “i’m sorry…”

you cup his cheek with your hand, wiping away the tears on his cheek. “can i…?”

he nods, and you crash your lips into his. “i love you channie”, you say breathlessly. he grabs your waist, picking you up and setting you down on the island. he pulls away from the kiss and looks you in the eyes.

“i love you so much y/n. i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you i was just… scared of ruining our friendship.”

“chan… i um. i didn’t- i don’t want you to think i kissed you just because of the letters. i was planning on confessing to you today but that just made it so much better”

chans eyes twinkled in the light, stunned by the sincerity in your voice. “y/n… i truly do love you a lot. i- thank you.”

you give him a quick peck on the nose, wiping away his tears again.

“so, you were making all this so you could um… confess?”

you nod shyly, averting his gaze. he giggles at how adorable you look right now, sitting on the kitchen island.

“what’s so funny chan?”

he picks you up once again, this time pinning you against the wall. your heart flutters again in your chest, the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“no. not chan… i’m your channie”, he smiles at you, leaning in for another kiss. you enjoy the moment with him, but all of a sudden you stop.

“chan! we still have to make the food”

he looks at you, sets you down on the floor and then turns away from you. you’re a little confused by the sudden change in attitude, but then it hits you.

“sorry dork, i meant channie”

he smiles at you again, helping you fix dinner.

“wow… first dinner with my girlfriend and we even cooked it together.”, your eyes widened. you were going to have to get used to chan calling you his girlfriend.

“wake the fuck up you two!”, yeji yells from her room.

you’re in the same position as last time, you face nuzzled into chans chest and your arms are wrapped around him. he’s holding you this time, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and stroking his fingers through your hair.

suddenly, yeji barges in to see you two practically looking like a pretzel. “oh my gosh…”

chan continues running his fingers through your hair, not paying attention to yeji at all. “wait… really?!”, yeji says excitedly.

it seems like shes finally gotten the hint, and you reach up to give chan a little peck. you smile at yeji, watching her visibly gag. “you know, you couldn’t just said ‘oh yeah we’re dating now!’. you didn’t have to kiss him. gross…”

chan laughs a little, the sound being music to your ears. “hey, it’s not my fault”

“yeah yeah whatever. get ready, we’re going out with changbin.”

you turn your head towards yeji again. “changbin? why so?”

chan lifts his head from the pillow. “are you finally dating now?”, he asks excitedly.

“ew no… gross”, yeji says while rushing out the room, not wanting you to see the crimson red covering her face.

you open your locker, instantly met with a much bigger envelope. you quickly open it to read it, smiling to yourself as you do. you’re so glad that chan did all this.

you searched your locker again, looking at the floor to see if the tulip fell, but you couldn’t find one. you pouted a little, the tulips seem to be something you cherish a lot. just then, you hear chans voice behind you.

in his hand is a bouquet, all different assortments of tulips. he doesn’t say anything, he just gives you a kiss and heads off to his next class.

you stare at him as he leaves, completely in awe. tears almost spring to your eyes, but you fight them off. quickly placing your bouquet in your locker, you run to your next class.

you make it there just on time, but before taking out your notebook, you grab your phone.

y/n: thank you channie :) channie <3: i hope you liked them :) y/n: of course i did! y/n: i love you channie <3 channie <3: i loved you first <3

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