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#and there's so much i refuse to subject myself to that i did in the past
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IM BEING TAKEN TO WATCH KFP4 AGAINST MY WILL AAA
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ibijau · 5 months
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regrettably, my library doesn't have any of the riders of pern books, which is really too bad since I'm reaching the end of the darkover books I had borrowed and I wanted something else to read
They do have the locked tomb books (in french) so that was tempting, but I am just not sure I'm emotionally ready to either get into this or find out I don't like it and start being annoyed at 15% of my tumblr dashboard
I guess I need to check what other old school fantasy/sf books they have
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astrafell · 2 years
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i think the thing that makes me sad is the fact that i’ve had geralt for around 6 or 7 years now and i can’t remember ever getting the chance to write a monster hunting thread that went somewhere. you would think that a man who hunters monsters for a living would have that be his main go-to prompt. but yea, when i think about it? i genuinely think i had about 2 threads in that area and neither of them were really wanting to go into horror or magic or mystic. i love complex npcs too. but sometimes, i just wanna write geralt killing things and protecting innocent people from monsters.
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 8 months
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After The End
Pairing: Bucky x Reader/former Steve x Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: idk... there's lots of arguing and resentment
Genre: mostly angst some fluff here and there
Summary: It took you ages to put yourself back together when Steve chose to stay in the 40s, what happens when he comes back two years after
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***
Life after Thanos was hard. Watching some of your closest friends disappear was not something you would ever be able to forget. Especially with those of you that were left scattered around trying to patch up what could be saved. Those five years were hard, but harder still was having almost everyone you loved return only to lose others. If you had known that beating Thanos would mean losing your boyfriend you might not have tried so hard. It's selfish to think that way, you know it is but you had a whole life planned with Steve, and being heroes you knew there was a chance you wouldn't get to see it through but losing him like this was- almost too much to bare. All he had to do was return the stupid stones to where you'd gotten them from to save the universe. It was supposed to be simple and there was something soul shattering about him choosing not to return to the team, to you. He took the stones back and then he stayed. Chose a life with Peggy that was never his rather than the life with you that he already had. It was agony, for months you were heartbroken. But you got through it. You mourned that life you envisioned, you mourned him, and while you'll probably always love him, you refused to let his choice destroy you. And you considered yourself lucky because Bucky was there for you through it all. On nights that were really bad, Bucky would stay with you even if you were up all night.
You aren't entirely sure when it happened, even now, looking back on it you can't pinpoint the moment late night conversations and afternoons completing chores became... more than that. You guess in spending so much time together you started to see Bucky in a different light. You'd always cared for him but what happened with Steve seems to have created a level of closeness you didn't expect. That first night that you kissed him was unexpected even to you. You'd been talking about nothing of consequence, he was lying on the floor of your room while you were in your bed, both of you staring at your ceiling for the most part. There was a lull in the conversation so you said the thing that had only clicked for you the week before at that point.
"I can't believe I let myself feel inadequate for so long." You sighed. You'd convinced yourself, for weeks, that Steve leaving was because you weren't enough, and only now were you coming to your senses about it.
"I'm sorry." Bucky had whispered it so quietly you almost thought he wasn't talking to you.
"You're sorry? For what? You didn't make him leave." You scoffed at him.
"For letting you feel less than perfect."
"Come on Buck, that's not on you." You'd rotated onto your stomach with a chuckle at his words. He'd cracked one eye open to look at you when he realized you were staring at him. Before you let yourself think about it too hard, you had leaned over the edge of your bed and kissed Bucky. It was quick and a bit awkward because of the angle but you made sure not to shy away from his surprised stare after.
"Did you just-" Bucky didn't even finish the question.
"Yeah. I guess I did." You'd smiled slowly watching a slight pink warm Bucky's cheeks.
You wish you could simply say 'and the rest is history' but that makes it seem like things were way easier than they were. It wasn't a smooth transition by any means. That night neither of you spoke for far too long, and when you could muster up something to say it wasn't to address the rapidly growing elephant in the room- it was to dispell the tension. You and Bucky spent two weeks dancing around the subject before he finally asked you if you were even ready for another relationship after Steve. That's when it clicked, why he'd been avoiding it in the first place, he was considering the possibility you were rebounding. Understandable concern but nope. It had been months, almost a year actually, since Steven had left. You knew you were in a place to begin again and you wanted to do it with Bucky.
Now the rest is history. You've been together ever since. About a year and a half at this point and you can't remember the last time you were this happy. The two of you meshed so well you can't believe there was a time you thought your future was with another man. You smile to yourself as you think about it while working on a painting. There's a knock at the front door that you almost don't hear.
"Y/n can you get the door? I'm in the bathroom!" Bucky shouts.
"Oh shit, of course!" You put down your brush and head to the door. You can't describe the shock that gripped you when you open the door.
"Steven." You blink at him.
"Hey. Nat- told me you'd moved. Luckily she uh, had your new address so-" He trails off with a shrug.
"Look not to- sound rude or anything, like I'm glad to see you, I think but, what are you doing here?" You ask.
"I thought- I thought I knew what I wanted but I got it wrong. I got it so wrong. My life- my happiness, it's here. With you." Steve steps towards you and you instinctively step back, placing a hand up gently to indicate your boundary.
"Hang on a second Steve. Just because your plan didn't work out doesn't mean you can just waltz back into my life like nothing's changed."
"Y/n! Who's at the door?" Bucky's voice calls from inside.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." You call back.
"I- didn't realize you'd have company." Steve mutters.
"Oh I don't. That's-" Before you can explain, Bucky's asking something, now walking over to join you at the front door.
"So who's this unbelievable surprise guest of-" Bucky's hands drop from where they were just about to settle on your waist when he finally glances out your door. "Steve." He says stepping back.
"Told you, you wouldn't believe me." You toss over your shoulder.
"Hey pal. Long time no see." Steve says. You can't tell if he's totally put it together yet but the strain in his voice tells you he at least knows something's changed between you and his best friend.
"I'll say. What happened to growing old with Carter?" Bucky asks, stepping around you to half hug Steve and offer a shoulder pat.
"I realized that- wasn't the life I wanted. I mean it was once upon a time but, not anymore. Things have changed." Steve shrugs.
"I see." Bucky nods.
"Well, Steve you're welcome to stay here with us while you- get back on your feet in the 21st century! Right Buck? Or I can send you over to Sam, he's back in Louisiana with family right now but I'm sure he'd love to see you too." You say.
"Oh, yeah, we can set him up in the extra room although- your art stuff is in there, did you want me to move it into my office or should I put it in your room?" Bucky hums.
"Do you have space in your office? Cuz I definitely can set it up in my room-"
"There's tons of space in my office." Bucky shrugs before you can finish. Steve clears his throat and you turn your attention back to him.
"Sorry to interrupt your- logistical discussion about all this, I j- I didn't realize you two were living together." Steve says.
"It's been two years. Like you said, things have changed." You say.
"You haven't told him?" Bucky looks at you.
"Well in my defense I was about to when you walked over here and the conversation kinda pivoted." You say.
"Okay well, do you want to do it or should I?" Bucky asks.
"I mean I don't want to but- it should be me, yeah." You mutter.
"Okay, can we stop doing this sidebar thing you guys are doing? Tell me- what exactly?" Steve asks. Bucky's hand settles comfortingly against your back, it's out of Steve's line of sight and you appreciate it greatly.
"Bucky- Bucky's my partner." You say.
"In the- you go on missions together sense or the 'my girlfriend is dating my best friend' sense?" Steve asks.
"It's been two years Steve-"
"So you replace me with my closest friend?"
"No. I moved on and yeah it was with Bucky but that was by chance it wasn't about you at all. Don't make it personal."
"You just happen to move on with my best bud? It feels pretty personal." He scoffs.
"Okay! Let's settle down. Steve, if you're gonna take our offer to stay I will show you to your room. Nat has some of your things at her place, the rest of it is in a storage unit. I'll take you down after." Bucky interrupts the would-be argument by changing the subject. You step out of the doorway to let Steve walk in as Bucky tugs him along.
"Why are my things at Nat's?" Steve asks.
"Well some of the more valuable things y/n held onto for a while but when she didn't want to keep them around here anymore we gave them to Nat to look after until we came up with a better plan since we didn't wanna leave them in a storage unit we'd barely go to." Bucky explains as the pair walk further into the house. You can't hear Steve's reply as you walk into the kitchen to regroup. Letting him stay here is going to make shit so weird. You sigh to yourself, with any luck he'll get on his feet pretty quickly and this will only last a couple of months. You can do a couple of months.
The first few weeks are, tense. You're not sure if Bucky is as aware of it as you are but your house is awkward and quiet most hours since Steve showed up. It's like most of your routines have been disrupted and you're not sure which ones are best left for after he's gone. Right now you're on your balcony with a cup of tea. When you glance over the ledge, you see Steve trudging into view. You watch curiously to figure out what he's doing, not even realizing Bucky's snuck up behind you until his arms settle around your waist.
"Penny for your thoughts my darling?" Bucky asks.
"Things are weird. Maybe I shouldn't have offered to let him stay here." You frown.
"Don't be silly. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't offered." Bucky chuckles.
"Sure but- now I'm worried I've put us- put you in an uncomfortable situation." Bucky spins you around to face him. His hand comes up to the side of your face, fingers grazing your cheek softly.
"I'm fine. Are you uncomfortable with him being here? Because I can suggest he spend some time checking in with the others if you'd-"
"No, I don't want to kick him out. I just- I don't want you to lose him because of me." You say taking his hand in yours kiss his knuckles.
"If 70 years and Russian brainwashing couldn't destroy our friendship I think we can make it past this." Bucky winks at you. You glance over the balcony again in time to see Steve toss some wood at a growing pile.
"What is he doing? Why is he piling wood?" Your eyebrows scrunch up.
"You can just ask him you know." Bucky muses.
"It's not harming anyone. I don't need to know." You shake your head.
"You wanna ask don't you?"
"It's just strange." You say fighting a smile.
"Just ask." Bucky laughs leaving you to your tea on the balcony. A moment later you let your curiosity get the better of you and lean against the metal railing of the balcony.
"Steve hon, what on earth are you doing?" You ask him.
"A tree fell, so- I'm breaking it down into firewood."
"Stevie it's August, we're not using the fireplace." You shake your head with a laugh.
"Better safe than sorry." He shrugs.
"You must be incredibly bored." You muse.
"No, I just like to be prepared." He says. "Alright, I'm a little bored." He adds with a sigh after a moment.
"Well if you need something to do- I was catching up with Nat the other day, she said a couple of the tenants in her building moved out for whatever reason, you should talk to her about applying." You tell him.
"I'll give her a call." He squints up at you.
"Good." You nod heading back into the apartment. That's honestly the longest conversation you've had since the day he moved in. Usually, you spend all day avoiding him- or he spends all day avoiding you- you're not sure but you don't speak really, except you make a point to ask him about dinner, if he has plans, or if he'd like to join you and Bucky. You're a good host, but you don't talk to each other much. Not that you expect any different, you were together for six years and he up and left but he's back now- and things are not what he thought they'd be. What else could be said honestly?
You actually don't mind the silence between you two, because the day Steve decides to break that pattern brings forth the worst conversation. The type you've been dreading since the moment he appeared at your door. You're cleaning around the apartment and Steve offered to help, first you worked in silence, just the music from your speaker filling the air until a particular song came on. One you played for Steve once that he immediately fell in love with. It became your song. You only recently stopped associating the song with him but you forgot it was in this playlist otherwise you would've picked another one.
"You still listen to this song?" Steve asks. You keep your back turned to him as you wipe down the coffee table.
"Of course I do. I knew the song before- it was, ours." You say.
"This is the first time I've heard it in a while." He muses.
"Duh the song didn't exist until the 2010s." You scoff.
"Yeah I guess that's- that's true. It's strange though, that awareness of what's to come."
"Yeah that's why most of sci fi warns you not to go time jumping."
"You clean with different products now." Steve points out. You're not sure what he's trying to do here but you are in no mood to dance around awkwardness with him.
"Scented products are easier for Bucky. He says plain bleach  smells too sterile." You mutter. It's Bucky that buys most of the cleaning products anyway, but he always buys citrus stuff.
"It's not easy, you know, seeing my best friend with the love of my life every day." Steve says after a stretch of silence. At this, you turn to face him, trying to stifle that frustration bubbling inside you.
"You left me. Left us. Not the other way around Steve. You don't get to complain about us having picked up the pieces." You tell him.
"I still love you, that's not something I can just pretend isn't there." He says.
"And I love Bucky." You shrug.
"Not me?"
"It doesn't matter." You shake your head.
"It does."
"If it mattered to you at all you would've never left." You grit out.
"So say it." He says quietly.
"What?"
"Tell me you don't love me."
"Steve-"
"Say it. If what we had is truly all in the past for you tell me you don't love me. That there's no place in your heart for me and- I'll move on."
"This isn't fair." You shake your head.
"No?"
"No! You got the life with Peggy that you thought you wanted. You abandoned me. Now you're asking me to choose you when you didn't choose me. How can you expect me to do that?"
"I'm choosing you now!"
"And I've chosen Bucky. I wanted the world with you. All you had to do was come back to me. And you didn't. It's too late now Steve. You needed to choose me two years ago."
"You still haven't said-"
"I don't love you. That's what you want to hear? You lost me the day you chose not to come back. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you. I chose Bucky, yes. But you-" Deep breath. "If you can't handle me and Bucky together in our home then- maybe you should go stay with Sam or Natasha." You say. You're not going to argue with him.
"Are you kicking me out?"
"I'm offering you an alternative- because, I will not be choosing you. Not now, not ever again, you had your chance and if you can't come to terms with that, if it's too difficult to be around reminders that you fucked up and I kept living life without you then by all means don't destroy your mental health staying here. You have other friends."
"How can you expect me to just- pretend what we had means nothing? How can you pretend it means nothing?"
"I'm not asking you to pretend shit. I also am not pretending it means nothing I'm just aware of the reality that it's over and that's something you need to come to terms with because you left and Bucky made me feel alive again when your leaving nearly killed me. It's been two years, did you think I would simply be waiting indefinitely for you to decide I was worth something to you again?"
"Wait a second you have always been worth something to me. You've always been worth everything." Steve frowns.
"You don't get to say that! You don't abandon people that are 'worth everything' to you. You chose someone else and that's a choice you have to live with." You say, your finger practically in his face. The sound of the apartment door opening disrupts your anger enough that you step back.
"Hey guys- did I miss something?" Bucky frowns looking between you two even though you've already stopped back over to the coffee table. Bucky's quick to come to your side, scanning your face for any clues as to what's going on, although he heard the last bit of what you said as he was coming down the hall. "Baby?" He coaxes gently, his fingers stroking against your side.
"I'm gonna go to Sam's for a little while." Steve grits out.
"Feel free to stay there." You clip before you can stop yourself. Steve's footfalls pause for a moment at your words but he doesn't respond before eventually he trudges out the front door.
"Feel free to stay there?! What... happened while I was out?" Bucky asks with a disbelieving chuckle.
"He has... a lot of nerve." You force out through clenched teeth.
"You're gonna have to give me more details than that so I can understand what's wrong doll."
"He just told me how hard it is to watch his best friend with the 'love of his life' every day. The love of his life that he left to be with a woman that lived and died without him. He asked me to choose him. Because after two years I'm supposed to still love the man that left me. Because it's not enough that he almost destroyed me the last time. Because for some reason he thinks I'd rather be picked two years too late."
"He's hurting."
"Yeah well, so was I. Two years ago. He'll live. I did." You shrug. Bucky pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head as he gently sways you both back and forth. You lived through hell that day you realized Steve chose a life with Peggy. You'd be damned if you ever let that happen again.
***
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coldfanbou · 2 months
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Trying For More
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Jeongyeon tells how she feels before an interruption in this chapter, and Jihyo refuses to back down as we enter a new competitive stage.
Length 2.9K
Jeongyeon x Mreader x Jihyo
Previous Part
Next Part
You wake in the morning to a text from Jeongyeon. “I want to meet at your place so no one will bother us. Do you think that’s possible?” You agree, and soon you hear a knock at your door. You check the peephole and see Jeongyeon on the other side. She wore an oversized blue wool coat with a small hood over her head as she shivered. You let her inside, asking her if she’d like a coffee. She takes you up on your offer and sits by the kitchen island as you make it for her.
“When you sent that text, I didn’t expect you to be waiting at my door.” 
“I…just really needed to talk to you.” 
“What about?” You ask, your back turned to her. Jeongyeon fiddles with her fingers, slowly regaining feeling in them. She considers how to bring up the subject. You turn around when she doesn’t answer you. “Jeongyeon, what did you want to talk about?” 
Jeongyeon stares at the counter, “Our relationship.” She says softly. “I don’t- I mean,” Jeongyeon’s head is a jumbled mess as dozens of thoughts whiz past. She thought about her relationship with you, your relationship with Jihyo and Dahyun. Jeongyeon wanted to say thousands of things, but nothing would come out. She doesn’t notice when you sit beside her, only realizing when you place the cup of coffee in her hands.
“Take your time, Jeongyeon. I have nothing planned for today.” She stares into your eyes and gives you a slight nod, her smile hiding itself.  She brings the coffee to her lips, taking a small sip before placing it on the counter. 
“It’s just that I know you’ve been seeing Jihyo and Dahyun.” She pauses for a moment, gathering herself. “I know it’s wrong, but I want to be the only one. I know this was just supposed to be sex, but…do you remember our first night together?”
“On vacation?”
“That night. I felt special. Yeah, Jihyo was there, but it was the way you treated me. I thought that I was unwanted, but you, you made love to me.” Jeongyeon stops again, sighing. “It’s silly, isn’t it? To you, it was probably just sex.” There’s a sad smile on her face. You consider your words wisely, but before you can say anything, Jeongyeon continues. “Still, I-I want you to love me. So I’m giving myself to you. Anything you want, I’ll do. I just want you to stay with me. So please-” Jeongyeon stops talking as you pat her back.
“Jeongyeon, please stop. You’re acting as if sex is everything to me. There are a lot of problems here. First, giving yourself to me isn’t going to change a thing.” Jeongyeon looks at you, fear in her eyes, the thought that you would leave her paralyzing her. “As much as you might think I’m just in this for the sex, I’m not. I’ll be honest, Jeongyeon. Yes, I have spent time with Jihyo and Dahyun. I even got dragged into a threesome with Momo and Mina last night.” Jeongyeon’s heart dropped as she heard that. “The thing is, I like spending time with you. More than just sex, I love working with you and being around you. You’re still a married woman, though. I want to get married at some point and have a few kids.” Your thoughts begin to wander for a moment.
“Are you saying you want to get married?” 
“What I’m saying is that our relationship can only be like this as long as you are. I’m not saying anything else. Things are complicated, Jeongyeon.” Jeongyeon lowers her head and nods.
“The offer still stands. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want with me. I know we can’t officially be together, but I still want to be with you.” Your phone starts to go off at that moment. It was Jihyo. Jeongyeon sees as much, and she tells you to answer it. 
“Good Morning! Are you home right now?”
“Yes?”
“Perfect.” Jihyo hangs up, and there’s a knock at your door. You don’t know how she got your address, but sure enough, standing outside was Jihyo.
“How do you know where I live?” You ask, standing in the doorway. 
“I asked Sana,” Jihyo replies with a smile. “She told me you lived here.” Jeongyeon comes up behind you, pressing her chest against your arm. You look over to see her bare chest. She must’ve taken off her clothes before showing herself to Jihyo. Jihyo looks surprised to see Jeongyeon standing there. “I see you already have a guest. Another wouldn’t hurt, right?” She says, pushing her way into your home. Jihyo takes a seat on your couch. You turn to Jeongyeon to see her naked body; her beautiful curves attract your attention. Jeongyeon smirks and presses her hand against your crotch. 
“Let me take care of you before we go to her,” Jeongyeon says as she kneels before you.  She pulls down your shorts and fishes your cock out, stroking it slowly. Before taking it into her mouth, she slaps her cheeks with it. This side of Jeongyeon turns you on. She was usually a little shyer when you had sex, but today, she was taking the lead. Jeongyeon moves her hand down your shaft as she plants her lips on the head. You stifle your moans as you feel her tongue swirl around the head. Jeongyeon’s soft hand cups your balls, gently squeezing them. She placed her other hand on your thigh, supporting herself as she began to bob her head. 
“Oh fuck, Jeongyeon.” Her tongue moves up and down the sides of your shaft, coating it in her saliva before she moves down your shaft.  She pulls away, choosing to slide her lips along your shaft and coat her cheeks in spit. Jeongyeon slides her hand down to her slit, moving her fingers along her folds as she pleasures you. 
Jihyo walks back toward the entrance, seeing that you were taking too long to follow her. She sees Jeongyeon fingering herself as she gives you a blowjob. Not one to be beaten, Jihyo reaches for the hem of her shirt and tosses it to the side. She wasn’t wearing any sort of bra, and as her shirt flew to the floor, you watched her heavy tits bounce. She kneeled beside Jeongyeon, taking the side that Jeongyeon was ignoring. Jihyo ran her lips along your shaft like Jeongyeon. You moaned their names, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. They glared at each other for a brief second before turning their gaze to you. “I’m going to cum,” you moan. Jeongyeon presses her tits together, dragging her nipples along your shaft. Seeing this, Jihyo does the same. You reach your peak quickly and cover their tits with your cum. The thick white liquid coats the tops of their breasts. Jeongyeon stares at the amount on her chest while Jihyo scoops some up and licks her finger clean as you watch. 
“It’s just as good as I remember it,” Jihyo says with a moan as she stands up. She unclips her skirt and lets it drop to the floor before stepping out of it. “I’m going to need a lot more, and I want it all to go right here.” Jihyo grabs your hand, running it along her slit. “I’m wet and ready for you.” She says with a smile on her face. Jeongyeon, not one to back down, grabs your other hand and does the same. Her slick coated her thick thighs, and Jeongyeon pushed your fingers inside where you could feel her walls clamp down around you. 
“I want to be together,” she says quietly as she leads you to the bedroom. You find yourself on your bed with Jihyo and Jeongyeon on either side of you, both women holding onto your cock. They stroked it together, neither wanting to give the other space to make a move. Figuring that they would be like this forever if you let them, you lean up and pull Jeongyeon down next to you. Jeongyeon lets go for a moment and opens her mouth to protest when you kiss her. It was soft and immediately stopped Jeongyeon. Your hand snaked around her body until it found her chest; you gave her breast a soft squeeze, drawing out a moan from Jeongyeon. Once you break the kiss, Jeongyeon asks, “Why did you do that?” She wondered why you chose to have Jihyo go first.
Once Jeongyeon had let go, Jihyo moved quickly, positioning herself above you and pressing the tip against her cunt. You moan as you feel her cunt consume you, her walls clamp down around your cock, tighter than the last time you were with her. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, just for you,” Jihyo says before leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. She leans back, letting you take in the sight of her body, from her toned stomach to her great tits and pretty face. Jihyo placed her hands on your thighs to support herself as she began to move, raising herself up and sliding down your shaft until you were buried inside her. You both moaned, loving the pleasure you got from the other. You turn your head to Jeongyeon, kissing her as you squeeze her breast again. She whimpered, the small bits of pleasure turning her on but leaving her wanting more. 
“Jeongyeon, can I have some of your milk?” You boldly ask. Jeongyeon felt her face turn bright red. She felt embarrassed being asked such a thing, especially in front of Jihyo. Still, she agreed, giving you a slight nod and pushing her chest out for you. She had to move up slightly; you took that chance to play with her ass. As you attached yourself to her sensitive nipple, you spanked Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon whined as she felt your tongue swirl around her hard bud. The slow, calculated moves made her a mess, especially when she felt your hand smack against her bottom. When you began to suck, Jeongyeon wrapped her arms around your head and moaned as you got your taste of her milk.  
Jihyo found the sight before her erotic; her body got hot as she bounced on your cock. She felt a pang of jealousy as she watched you nurse from Jeongyeon’s tit. She reached up with one hand and groped her bouncing tit. Her fingers flicked at her nipple, causing more moans to fill the room. She slowed down her riding, using the muscles she trained to strangle your cock. She could feel the head of your cock rubbing against her walls. She loved it, and sank lower, having every inch inside before she popped up. 
Jihyo’s pussy was bringing you close to another orgasm; knowing as much, you bucked your hips, surprising her. Jihyo groaned as she felt the sudden movement. As much as Jihyo had worked to make you cum quickly, she found herself on the edge too. She had played with her body too much. You tapped around Jihyo’s body until you found her waist, and with one hand, you dug your hand into her smooth skin. With your grip on her, you began to thrust into Jihyo. “Ah! Wait! I’m supposed to be in control!” Jiyho cried as she felt your cock reach into her deepest parts. “Shit, I’m cumming.” Jihyo moaned as her body twitched. You felt her walls tighten around your shaft as she came. You followed suit right after; you buried yourself inside Jihyo, shooting your cum into her cunt. Jihyo’s hand slips off your thigh, and she falls back onto the bed, your cock slipping out and spurting the last bit of cum onto her stomach. 
In the heat of the moment, you bite down on Jeongyeon’s tit, the pain and pleasure of it mix together, and she moans. You release your grip quickly and pull away, seeing the bite mark you've left. You go back in and kiss her breast. “Sorry about that, Jeongyeon. I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
“It’s okay. I’m yours, remember?” Jeongyeon rolls onto her back and spreads her legs for you. Her hand snakes its way down her body until it reaches her cunt; she slowly spreads her lips showing you just how wet she is. “I need you. Please.” You climb over Jeongyeon, the tip of your cock slapping against her slit as it twitches. Jeongyeon extends her arms out, waiting for you to make the first move. You grab your cock, pressing it against her entrance before pushing the first couple of inches inside. As you push more inside, you lower yourself, letting Jeongyeon wrap her arms around you. Her embrace is warm; you feel her chest rise as she takes deep breaths, her breasts rubbing against your chest.
You pull out slowly, letting the feeling linger before pushing back into Jeongyeon’s warm cunt. You kiss Jeongyeon to quiet yourselves as you begin to thrust. Jeongyeon keeps her arms wrapped around you, refusing to let you go as you thrust into her. Your hands caress her body, giving her thighs loving squeezes. “I love you,” Jeongyeon whispers in a hushed tone. You couldn’t make out what she said and continued to thrust. Jeongyeon moaned your name as she ran her fingers through your hair.  You kissed Jeongyeon’s neck; she would tilt her head back, giving you more space to work with.
After a couple of minutes, you felt a weight on your back. Jihyo was pressing her tits against you. “Are you two having fun?” Jihyo pushes you deeper into Jeongyeon with her weight. You both moan loudly; Jeongyeon can feel the tip of your cock kissing her womb. Her body shivers, and she nearly cums from the feeling. With Jihyo’s help, you’re able to hit that spot consistently. Jeongyeon begins to whine and hold your head against her chest as she cums. She squeezes your sides with her thighs, and you can feel her walls clamp down on your cock. You kiss her womb one more time as you cum. You paint Jeongyeon’s walls white as you fill her pussy with your baby batter. You remain buried inside Jeongyeon after your orgasm ends, her walls still tightly wrapped around you as you pull out. As soon as you are out, Jihyo’s hand finds your cock, stroking it. “I’m so glad we have all day to have fun. Aren’t you happy, Jeongyeon?” As you turn your eyes back to Jeongyeon, you see her fingering herself, your cum out of her. You take in the image of Jeongyeon; legs spread,  fingering herself with a blissful look in her eyes. 
“We should take a break.” You say, trying to give yourself some more time to recover. 
“I have a better idea,” Jihyo says as she nibbles on your ear. “How about we do this.” Jihyo gets in between you and Jeongyeon, crawling over her friend until she’s face to face with her. Jihyo steals a kiss from Jeongyeon as she presses her clit against the younger woman’s. “Don’t you want to go another few rounds before we rest?” Seeing their pussies pressed against each other gets you hard, and you decide to dive into a few more rounds with the duo.
By the end, both women’s lower halves were covered in cum and their nectar. You got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a drink when Jihyo came soon after, cum running down her legs. She turned you around and stroked your cock as she pressed her tits against you. “So, how was it? Did you enjoy my little trick?”
“It felt really good, Jihyo.”
“It must’ve, look at how much cum I have in me.” She says while spreading her lips, causing more to come rushing out of her. Jihyo moves her hand up and down your shaft slowly. “You know, with all this cum I could get pregnant again,” She whispers into your ear. “You twitched. Does that excite you? The thought of getting this good little housewife pregnant.” You moan as Jihyo continues to stroke your cock. “Jeongyeon said her body was yours. I don’t want to lose out to her, so the same goes for me.” Jihyo stops stroking your cock and takes your hands, placing them first on her tits and working her way down. You soon reached her ass. “I have another secret I’ve been working on.” Jihyo drops her hands and turns around, bending over slightly and spreading her cheeks. “You can try this too. I bet Jeongyeon hasn’t let you get anywhere near it, huh?” 
Jeongyeon was around the corner at that time, overhearing the conversation. She thought about what she had to do and what she said to you. She said her body was yours, and she meant it. Jeongyeon made a mental note to look at anal after the day was over. For now, she was going to make her presence known. She came around the corner and went straight for you. “Hey, let's get back to bed. Or if you want to shower, I can clean your body.” Jeongyeon presses her tits against your arm and gets on her tippy toes. “I also have more milk if you want to drink some more.” You consider your options, knowing that more sex is inevitable. Seems like this would be your day. Part of you wishes it was a work day; you needed a small break from all the sex.
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pinkthrone445 · 2 months
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This might be a weird request, but can you write a fic where reader is a new teacher at abbot and is like really innocent, kinda like Ms honey from Matilda for reference, and Melissa just wants to ruin her and her innocence.
This is definitely kinky so I would understand if u don’t want to write it! But if you do their sex would definitely be kinky!🤭
-Caught in the moment-
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Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Gender:Smut, very detailed Smut! Kinky
Warnings:yes! +18 Smut, Kinks
Summary:Melissa decides to show you what it was like to be with a real woman.
Hi! I love your username, it made me laugh a lot. I hope you like it, enjoy it and that it's what you expected 💞💞
Usually innocence went hand in hand with one's age, the younger one, the more innocent. But lately almost no one preserves their innocence, children from a very young age already know many things that perhaps they shouldn't, it was noticeable in their vocabulary and in their way of acting. They knew a lot about sex, drugs, and alcohol, lost their virginity at a very young age, and had almost no childhood anymore. Melissa knew all this, she saw it at school every day, especially in the slightly older students.
So accustomed to this behavior, she was surprised when you came to work at school, she never thought that the most innocent person there would end up being a teacher.
Mel loved your innocence, she actually loved disturbing it, she had so much fun making you nervous and making you stutter and blush. Barbara often called her out by telling her to stop bothering you, but as always, the redhead ignored her.
Your students called you Miss Honey because of how sweet you were to them, you always went above and beyond to protect and help them.
Many teachers loved you, but others didn't like the way you were, they thought that your innocence was just a façade...
Ava went into the teachers' room to make herself a coffee, everyone was there except you
-"What's up slackers" - she greeted everyone while grabbing her cup- "I need to know... What do you think about the new teacher?"-She whispered, looking for gossip
-"I think she's a good teacher, I haven't seen much of her classes but the kids love her for a reason" - Barbara commented truthfully
-"The other day when I was walking down the hallway I saw how she taught history to the little ones, they were so focused on her, I myself was attracted by the way she teaches and I stayed listening to her for a long time" - Jacob commented
-"Oh come on! Now that Janine is not here, the new girl is the new Janine, with her whiny voice and cheerful self... Help me here Melissa" - Ava kept insisting, trying to get some interesting comment out of them, but the redhead just shrugged her shoulders
-"I don't know, I like her" - Melissa said simply
-"Shocking" - Barbara commented, earning herself a blow to the arm from her friend.
-"Good morning my fellow pears" - You commented entering the room and everyone fell silent, especially Ava, without giving it much importance you started to make a coffee-"Anyone want more coffee?" - You offered and everyone refused, but Mel said yes and handed you her cup, which you carefully refilled and returned, the redhead brushed your hand smiling and took your wrist and brought you closer to her
-"Thank you little lamb" - Mel whispered kissing your wrist and then took a sip of her coffee humming, smiling and looking into your eyes- "Perfect and sweet like you..."-She whispered making you blush, her eyes, her smile, her lips on your wrist, everything she was was hypnotic, making it hard to take your gaze away from her. Someone coughed making you fall back into reality again
-"I made cookies, someone wants some?"-You offered to change the subject and avoid looking at the redhead, who followed your interaction with a lot of curiosity.
This wasn't the first time Mel had done that kind of thing only to see you blush and make you nervous, she did it so often that by this point others saw it as normal.
At the end of the break, you returned to your classroom with your students, who were excited to see you again.
Whenever Mel could, she would take advantage of the moment and pass by the door of your classroom just to listen to you talk to the children, conveniently your classroom was next to hers so she listened to you whenever she wanted.
-"Miss honey, a kid at lunchtime pushed me and my glasses broke" - A little boy commented to you with teary eyes just as the redhead was passing through the door, the boy was holding his glasses in his little hands and you sighed kneeling beside him with a soft expression, letting your flowery dress touch the ground, carefully you took his glasses and caressed his little face
-"I'm so sorry little one, do you know who it was?" - You asked him and he nodded-"Very well, I'll talk to their parents after school, yes?" - You whispered, and the little guy nodded again-"Would a hug make you feel better?" - The little boy nodded and you hugged him tight while he let out a few little sobs-"I'll fix your glasses right now" - You whispered hugging him and looked at the others kids-"Kids, do we have a friend who hasn't had a good day, any ideas to make him feel better?" - You asked questions and the kids started saying good ideas to help him, Mel smiled and went on her way.
At the end of the day, when almost all the children had left, you stayed at the school waiting for the parents of the child who had hit and broken your student's glasses. The aggressive kid was a few years older than your students, so he had more strength, and for some reason he had an arrogant smile as you waited for their parents.
Melissa was about to go to her car when she saw you in the driveway with the student, so she stayed next to you
-"Hi little lamb... You okay?" - She whispered and you nodded, avoiding looking her in the eye
-"Yes... I'm just waiting for his parents... That here they come" - You whispered seeing the student's parents. You tried to calmly and kindly explain the situation to them, but they were quite aggressive and defended their child at all costs, which made you understand why the boy had such an arrogant smile, he knew he wouldn't be in trouble because his parents stood up for him always
-"Look, I understand if you want to trust your son and his behavior, but many saw him push and hit one of my students and broke his glasses, I wish he would at least apologize or help the parents pay for his new glasses..."-You said, trying to make your voice as firm as possible
-"You're not going to come and tell us what to do or how to raise him"-They answered you in a bad way and you sighed
-"No one is imposing any of that on you , but if you don't start correcting and disciplining your child, he's going to get into more and more trouble... And he maybe ends up being a bad person" - You whispered without much confidence
-"Are you accusing my son of being a bad person? Who do you think you are?" - One of the parents got very angry and accused you by pushing your shoulder
-"Hey, let's calm down" - Melissa tried to diffuse the situation
-"No, that's not what I meant... I meant that if you don't discipline him he could end up being disrespectful and aggressive like you" - You didn't want to say it like that, but nerves got the words out before you could register them. And before you could correct yourself, a fist blocked your view. One of the parents had struck you with his fist over one of your eyes, stumbling you up and making you take a few steps back
-"Hey asshole!" - Melissa screamed and hit him back, standing up for you. The blow left you a little dizzy and you didn't register much more of what happened until Mel guided you to your classroom and brought an ice pack for your eye-"Are you with me litte lamb?" - she whispered putting the ice in your eye and you nodded
-"Are they gone?" - You asked sitting on a table looking at her with your good eye
-"Yes... Mr. Johnson called the police and they took care of it... It's cute how you wanted to defend your student, but we need to work on your reflexes..."-she joked and you nodded
-"Yeah... Thank you for standing up for me...and for this" - You pointed to the ice she was still holding, Mel smiled and carefully stroked your cheek
-"Don't even mention it" - She whispered and you couldn't help but smile at her, taking advantage of how close she was to admire her beauty, but the redhead frowned-"Stop looking at me like that" - Whispered
-"Why?" - You laughed
-"You look at me like a deer dazzled down by the lights of a car" - The redhead was still frowning
-"I'm dazzle by your gorgeous face..." - You whispered embarrassedly and she laughed
-"If you're going to flirt, at least do it with confidence... Do you want me to teach you? "-She joked and you jokingly shoved her
-"Maybe I don't know much about sex or that, but I know how to flirt, you just make me nervous..." - You confessed a little embarrassed
-"Do you want to learn?" - Mel whispered and stood between your legs, you looked up in confusion
-"What?" - you asked
-"If you want me to teach you, about sex... I'm sure if you know more about sex you'd be more confident to flirt with me" - she commented with an arrogant smile and you rolled your eyes
-"I don't think that fixes things, I'm shy by nature..."-You murmured looking away from her, tired of her making fun of you
-"Hey..."-Mel grabbed your jaw making you look at her-"I'm not making fun of you, I'm trying to make you understand how much I'm attracted to you...Look hon, I'm an older woman, I know what I want and like and I won't be messing around anymore, I  want you, I love how you are, but I want to ruin that innocence and make you mine, I want the most inappropriate memories to come to your head when you think of me..."-she responded making you blush more, but you were too nervous to be able to respond-"Jesus! I'm telling you all these things and you keep looking at me with that innocent face, as if I didn't notice how you look at me out of the corner of your eye or how you look at my breasts when I bend down... Please tell me this isn't just my imagination because I'm going crazy..."-Melissa whispered, setting the ice on the table, you barely smiled and kissed the tip of her nose, which confused the redhead as she didn't expect that
-"I like you... But... I've never been with a woman, I don't know how to do any of this..."-You whispered embarrassedly and the redhead laughed caressing your jaw
-"Leave it to me, you just relax and enjoy" - She whispered before kissing your lip softly and slowly. Her lips were soft and had a little cherry flavor from her lipstick, they were plump and strong, expert at kissing. A shiver ran down your head, down your spine and down your feet as her teeth brushed your lips and she took a gentle bite pulling a little, an involuntary moan escaped your lips and you blushed a lot as you listened to yourself. You knew how to kiss, you'd done it several times, but she was something unlike anything you'd tried before. Mel smiled arrogantly as she listened to you and looked into your eyes with great desire, as if with your moan you would have activated something animalistic in her. Her firm hands rested on your thighs without taking her eyes off your face
-"You know? Your dresses always drive me crazy... But your moans are something else..."-she whispered over your lips and began to kiss your jaw as her hands lifted your floral dress a little so she could caress your skin, her nails purposely scratched your legs and you moaned softly again. Her kisses on your neck, her body against yours, her hands, everything around you was Melissa, and you couldn't be happier about it.
Mel began to kiss the neckline of your dress, gently biting your breasts as her hand moved up your leg reaching for the edge of your underwear
-"Mel..."-Her name came out like a groan from your mouth, in the ears of the redhead it sounded as if the angels were singing praises to god-"We're still in school, what if someone comes?" - Your voice trembled, but not with fear, but with pleasure
-"There's no one left, there's only Mr. Johnson cleaning the classrooms, but it will take a long time for him to get here..."-She whispered and pulled your dress up to your waist, smiling at the sight of your pink underwear with small flowers-"God, I want to ruin you so bad"-She murmured in a deep voice and knelt in front of you, licking her lips as if you were a delicious dish and she was a hungry woman who hadn't eaten in months. You tried to close your legs a little so you wouldn't feel so vulnerable, but the redhead grabbed your knees avoiding it. She carefully grabbed one of your legs and began kissing it from your knee to almost your crotch, taking small bites along the way. And you just thought about how pathetic you should look trying to hold back your moans.-"I told you to relax..."-Melissa murmured against your thigh as if she could read your mind. Her free hand moved up your body to your chest and gently pushed you so that you were laying over the table, resting on your shoulders so that you wouldn't lie completely flat. Because of that position your legs spread further apart and that satisfied the redhead. With the tip of her nose, Melissa brushed and pressed her nose on your crotch over your underwear, causing you to shiver and a gasp to come out of your mouth as you let your head fall back-"That's it, relax..."-she whispered, and her nose brushed your crotch again, specially over the wet patch that had formed in your underwear. Which made her smile arrogantly when she saw how wet you were thanks to her. Gently she blew air from her mouth on where it was wet, giving you chills from how cold it felt. Her tongue traveled the same path her nose had traveled, it felt soft, the mixture of your juices with her saliva, but also the underwear generated friction against your fols and clit, which made you move your hips against her mouth, looking for more of it, more of her.
Mel pulled your underwear to the side without taking it off, coming face to face with your dripping entrance. Two of her fingers collected your juices and then spread it all over your vagina, then kept your lips open and separated. Your entrance was practically beating at this point, begging for her, for something else
-"Look at you, you don't look so innocent now little lamb..." - she whispered before burying her face between your legs. Her plump lips expertly sucked on your clit, alternating with the tip of her tongue to play with it too. At this point you were so wet that it was spreading down her chin and even wetting your desk. The redhead clawed at your legs again as her tongue penetrated you as deep as it could. At this point your moans were animalistic and desperate. You carefully rested your body on one of your hands and with the other you grabbed her hair by pulling it and pushing her face deeper and closer to you, without worrying if she could breathe or not. When the redhead's nose pressed down on your button, you started riding it on her face and it was a matter of seconds until you came on her face, letting out your loudest moan along with her name and a few insults. Without much strength you lay back completely on your desk while the redhead continued to lick your folds trying to make sure nothing went to waste. Your breathing was ragged and you felt like you were on another planet, as Melissa kissed your legs softly trying to help you come back to reality.
The moment your body reacted and you opened your eyes staring at the ceiling, your blood ran cold
-"FUCK!" - You screamed and Mel looked at you worriedly, when she followed your gaze, she saw on the ceiling a very well hidden, almost imperceptible camera, camera that had probably captured everything that had happened and that it was surely hiding and recording in Ava's office.
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babushkatty · 4 months
Text
Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6
-> Part 1
-> Part 5
With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.
But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.
You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.
Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.
"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.
Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!
You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.
Crepus was horrible for your heart.
Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.
This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).
You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.
Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.
Probably the trauma speaking.
Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.
Today, I don my very own Windblume.
I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The winds are particularly harsh today.
I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.
Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...
Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The people are growing restless.
Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.
It remind me of a newborn puppy.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The people are planning a rebellion.
I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.
Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.
It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.
It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.
Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?
Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.
I met Ragnvindr today.
Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.
"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.
It helped.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.
I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.
I admire their bravery.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.
King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.
In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.
The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.
I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
My little spirit friend is still without a name.
I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.
A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.
But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.
Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.
It is hard to name them.
I've thought of many names up until now.
Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.
Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.
None fit.
I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
That was the last entry.
You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.
☆(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ* ✨ Author Note✨
It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.
It really wasn't.
Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.
But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?
I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.
✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨
The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?
If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!
I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨
���Taglist✨
@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 23 days
Text
the five stages | f. odair
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masterlist
summary: a journey back to a golden period of time of polaroid pictures, white knitted sweaters, and lively sea-green eyes. why? because in the present, those same pair of eyes are ruthlessly unrelenting and you have no other chance of their escape.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: heavy angst, vomiting, implied smut, depression, maggots, hallucinations, relieving fluff, mild horror. I don’t want to spoil the story too much, so I won’t be adding any more warnings, sorry y’all. this could be very triggering so please read at your own discretion. some descriptions are quite graphic!
notes: I’m super proud of this one—it’s sorta based off “little talks” by of monsters and men and “on the nature of daylight” by max richer. this fic probably won’t get many views, so I’ll be incredibly grateful for any—if any at all—type of engagement! <33
word count: 8k
The bedroom was cold; dark; empty. Empty even though I still resided in it.
My alarm had gone off two hours ago, yet I hadn’t moved an inch. When I finally turned my head to the side, I found that the space beside me was vacant. Cold; dark; empty—I reached out my hand anyway.
Thirty minutes passed before I wrestled myself out of bed and started making breakfast downstairs. The otherwise warm and flavourful plate of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast left my mouth feeling dry and my throat lodged.
It used to be one of my favourite meals. At least, when he was around.
Dishes were piled in the sink, dirty and untouched. I sat on the couch, pondering whether today was the day I would finally get to cleaning them. It wasn’t. I couldn’t. We always did that together. I wondered—if I left them in the sink long enough, would he return? Even just for five minutes to help me put them away? One month and seventeen days had passed, and yet I still entertained this thought religiously.
I wasted an hour running circles round the same contemplations before deciding fresh air, as cliché as it was, might do me some good.
Grey clouds concealed the sun’s warm golden light when I stepped outside, but that was fine—I didn’t like anything golden anymore. But he would want me to leave the house at least once a day, so that’s what I would do. I would go down to the beach beside our—my house and feel the sand collect between my toes as I walked to the water’s edge.
But wasn’t that where he was when it happened? Wasn’t he in water? Didn’t those things pile on top of him? Didn’t they sink their fangs into his neck and tear at his flesh until he was blown to…
Bits of egg, yoghurt and stomach bile sat at my feet. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the ground in a sandy, tear-stricken heap. Since my lower body had refused to cooperate any longer, it took me until midday to crawl back up the dune and to my front doorstep.
Fuck. I needed to rest.
“I need you to rest, sweetheart.”
“I told you, I’m fine,” I whined. “I’m not sick.”
Finnick placed a bucket on the ground beside the bed. The room smelled of lemon disinfectant—a joy I often found in being sick… That is, if I were sick, which I was not. I must have drunk spoiled milk or eaten something bad during breakfast. Nevertheless, Finnick was not having it.
“You’re throwing up everything you manage to get down, and you’re shivering like it’s the middle of winter,” he said adamantly, tucking the comforter up to my chest. “It’s summer, and you’re very much not fine.”
I sat up, ready to heatedly debate the subject, but the room began swirling, and my ears were hissing like a staticky television channel without a signal. A quiet whimper buzzed in my throat as I hunched forward. Damn him, I was sick.
The mattress dipped as Finnick sat beside me. His hand was on my back, rubbing it soothingly as he used his other hand to tuck away the curtain of hair concealing my face. I huffed, half in annoyance, half in an attempt to suppress the nausea rising in my throat, and then sunk back against the pillows.
“Not sick, she says,” he jested, smiling down at me. I rolled my eyes, though unable to hide the weak, betraying smile creeping across my lips. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said, a gentle command. “I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”
The wooden flooring welcomed me with hard, cold arms as I hauled my sandy body through the front door. Images of fangs, bloody flesh, and panicked sea-green eyes flooded my mind.
More breakfast, more bile. No lemon disinfectant.
My knees were folded beneath my body; my body was hunched over my knees. I was sobbing now, so hard that I threw up again (was there even anything left in my stomach at this point?), creating a thick puddle of vomit and tears beneath me. Cries and gasps for air bounced around the house. To call me a mess would be an understatement. I was a disaster. A disaster wrapped up in an unmendable tragedy with a ragged, threadbare ribbon barely holding me together.
And in case I wasn’t aware of this fact, the floorboards were so shiny that they mirrored a reflection of myself. My hair was a being of its own, all wild and unkempt, and my face was another story entirely—a red, blotchy thing I wasn’t too interested in delving into.
But the most unsettling aspect had nothing to do with me, it was that there was someone else in the reflection. Two green balls of light were glowing above my head.
Dishevelled golden hair…
Dimpled cheeks…
My forehead was pressed to the floor as I screamed.
“I don’t want to make you sick as well,” I said, contrarily enjoying the feeling of Finnick’s skin warm against mine, hot blood flowing through his veins.
A day had passed since I first became unwell, and the sickness had continued to wreak havoc inside me.
We were both under the thick covers, our limbs tangled together as he held me atop his chest. (my body didn’t register the scorching summer temperatures. I actually felt as though my core temperature was a few degrees below freezing. Meanwhile, Finnick was characteristically toasty warm. It was perfect for me, but not so much for him, evident in the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. Nevertheless, he made no complaints).
My body rose and fell with each breath he took. I was trying to inhale whenever he exhaled in a weak attempt to prevent the festering sickness in my body from entering his, and though it was a futile gesture, I did it anyway.
“In sickness and health, remember?” he said.
I smiled. “We’re not even married.”
“Yet, you mean,” he countered. “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. You know that.”
My heart fluttered at the thought of spending an entire lifetime with him—waking up in each other’s embrace each morning, the warm sunlight peeking through the blinds of our bedroom; Finnick calling me “Mrs. Odair” or “My wife” at every opportunity because doing so made us both giggle like two moronic, love-struck teenagers; and being unable to prevent the deep smile lines on both our cheeks as we age, a constant display of our perpetual happiness.
“Sixty more years of having and holding you,” he continued with a gentle musing in his tone. “For better or for worse... For richer or for poorer.” He then stroked the side of my face and brushed away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to my forehead. “In sickness and in health…”
“…Until death do us part,” I finished, my voice slow with fatigue.
Two fingers sat beneath my chin and tilted my head upward. My eyes connected with Finnick’s. They were soft. Heartfelt.
“Not even then. I’ll love you beyond the grave,” he murmured. Then his lips were slowly curving into a pensive smile. “When we’re both ghosts and haunting the next owners of this house.”
I was now smiling, too. “I’d hoped you would say something like that.”
How could he lie like that? There was no we. There were no next owners. There was only me, alive and alone in a comatose house. And mind you, I was sane enough to know that it wasn’t actually his ghost haunting me, though I wish I weren’t because having that knowledge was even worse. It meant he was truly erased from existence.
“Go away,” I whispered to the reflection on the floor.
He didn’t. His vacant green eyes kept staring down at my crumpled figure.
I shot off the floor and spun around, hot tears streaming down my face. “Go away!” His face remained expressionless. He looked like himself, only colder. “You said sixty more years! You said we’d be together!” I mindlessly picked up and flung a small picture frame at him, only for it to pass through his body and shatter on the floor behind him. “Why did you lie to me?!” My voice was frayed with fury, though underlined with grief.
He said nothing, did nothing. All he did was watch.
My legs buckled, and I was on the floor again. I was whispering, half-sobbing, the same question over and over until the words slurred together. “Why’d you lie? Why’d y’lie?” The only time I stopped was when my tongue grew too heavy to move anymore.
To my surprise, he eventually came and sat beside me, remaining cold and silent—as I too had become.
Glass fragments from the picture frame were scattered across the floorboards. The photo within had fallen out and, ironically, drifted towards me. I didn’t bother acknowledging him as I moved onto my hands and knees and began crawling forward—my palms slicing open and blood seeping out—until the photo was in my hands. My shins had granules of glass pricking into them, but I couldn’t feel the pain; all I could do was stare at the memory in my hands.
The picture had been taken in District Thirteen, a day before he signed up for… the mission.
I was drifting in and out of sleep when a sudden bright flash lit up my eyelids.
“Oops.”
Heavy eyes fluttering open, I was met with a small camera pointing down at me, which was being held up by a lengthy muscular arm, which was connected to an even more muscular and broad shoulder, which was connected to—okay, sorry, I think you get it.
“Finnick!” I shrieked, pulling the covers over my naked figure.
He laughed, the vibrations rumbling deep within his chest, beneath my ear. A soft whirring sound accompanied the polaroid sliding out of the camera, its black film hiding the doubtless embarrassing picture beneath. He placed the film on the sheets beside him, letting the photo develop in darkness.
“I was supposed to cover the flash,” he said, still chuckling.
I rubbed my eyes, which were twinkling with little sparkles of light. “I think you blinded me.”
“Lucky you,” he jested. “You’re finally free from my repulsive exterior.”
I started to reach for the picture beside him—“You’re an idiot”—but then he was rolling us over until his arms were pillared on either side of my head and he was hovering above me.
His hair was a mess, a testament to the night before (and very early hours of the morning), and he was sporting a beautiful, lazy grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re engaged to an idiot,” he said, tilting his head in an arrogant manner. “So what does that make you?”
The sea-glass ring hugging my finger gleamed in the lamp’s dull light as I reached out to touch his face, my fingertips brushing along the edges of his pronounced jawline. Tangled strands of hair and a beaming smile were reflecting back at me in his eyes. No one had ever loved anyone as much as I loved Finnick—disregarding the one exception that was staring down at me.
“Blinded by love,” I whispered.
Brief yet poignant emotion trickled through his features, his eyes. Then, like a flick of a switch, he covered it up and lowered his face into my neck, groaning the words, “So corny.”
My fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him close to me. “Liar,” I laughed. “You loved it.”
“I love you, which is why I put up with your corniness,” he murmured into my skin.
Even after all this time, my heart still leapt whenever he said those three words, even when he was being a jerk about it. I kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”
We laid like this for a short while longer—Finnick keeping his face buried in the warmth of my neck, his arms curled beneath my body; me playing with the golden waves of his hair that were somehow softer than my own. He was so heavy on top of me that it was starting to become difficult to breathe, but in no universe would I ever tell him to get off. It was a blissful sort of suffocation.
A sort anyone would snap a picture of just to keep as a reminder of how beautiful it feels to be smothered with love. With that being said, the picture that lay awaiting beside me was brought back to mind.
“Oh no,” I moaned, picking it up and taking a short glance at the developed photo. I covered my face with my hands, repeating the words, “Oh no.”
The photo was plucked from my fingers, and Finnick began humming contentedly to himself.
In the photo, my face had been nuzzled into his bare, muscular chest, eyes closed in sleep-drunken serenity, hair thrown over my shoulder and spilling across the pillow. My hand rested on his contoured stomach with just enough of my upper arm and low light to conceal my breasts. Finnick had a delicate hand draped over my waist. He was gazing down at me with a smile that was just… full of pure love.
I had to admit—it was a beautiful picture. Despite my initial disapproval.
“Beautiful,” I heard him echo my thoughts, his eyes still scanning the photo. Then his brows furrowed, and his head slightly inched forward as though he had just noticed something peculiar in the picture. “Oh, and you are too, I guess.”
My head tilted back against the pillow with an abrupt laugh. I shook my head, looking back at him. “I hate you.”
“Liar,” he said, leaning in closer.
His lips were on mine for what must have been the millionth time in the past few hours. The bedside clock announced that breakfast was soon approaching, though it was clear neither of us would make an appearance within the next hour (or two).
“You love me,” he whispered as he slid inside me.
And I did.
I really did.
The muscles in my cheeks were straining due to how hard I was smiling.
It wasn’t my idea to keep a picture of us half-naked in the entryway of our home. He always was a bit unusual like that. Completely unashamed of who he was and how he acted. Sometimes a little too boisterously, but that’s what I loved so much about him—how confident he was in his love for me, so much so that nothing else mattered, no one else’s opinion.
God, I love him so much.
Love…?
Wait.
That’s not right.
Shouldn’t it be “loved”?
And why was I smiling? I didn’t have anything to smile about anymore. He was gone. Our wedding never occurred. Our faces never wrinkled with smile lines. Our clasped hands never weathered with age. He was gone.
The polaroid slipped from between my fingers. My hands were covered in glass and blood, blood that had painted a dark red splotch in the middle of the shiny film. Figures.
After a short while of staring blankly at the scattered debris decorating the floor, I finally found it in myself to start climbing back onto my feet. My straightened legs wobbled and ached beneath me with the little energy I had. That’s what happens when you can barely stomach food anymore: no energy, always sleeping, always swamped by nightmares or bittersweet memories—at this point, they were one and the same.
Not a strand of gold or a fleck of green was in sight when I glanced over my shoulder. For now, at least. He liked making an appearance once or twice a day.
Pieces of glass crunched beneath my bare, stinging feet as I made for the stairwell. A mess for another day, I reasoned. Just like the dishes. Sticky red footprints stamped each wooden step I ascended, growing less prominent as I reached the second floor.
After taking a right down a short hallway, the encompassing walls littered with magnificent seashells and dried ocean flora, I turned the knob to the furthest room and entered. The floor was landscaped with mountains of clothes which drenched the room in a familiar, all-consuming smell. The scent kind of reminded me of receiving a warm hug, albeit from someone you know you should let go of in more ways than one.
His hair, golden and tousled, caught my eye as I passed the wall of string-hung polaroids in our… sorry, my bedroom. His smile was all dimpled and brilliant, and he had his tanned arms wrapped around my middle. Just moments after the picture was taken, he had tackled me into the water and rightfully earned a smack on the back of the head. In turn, he did it again.
But before that, we were both looking into the camera with the most joyful expressions—huge grins, bright eyes. Frozen in time.
I never let myself look too long at that picture anymore. And I never, ever looked into his eyes. Green used to be my favourite colour. I didn’t have a favourite colour anymore. It was safe to say I didn’t have a favourite anything anymore; everything favourable was a reminder of him.
I picked up a white knitted sweater off the ground and tugged it over my head, staining it with splotches of dark red. Knowing him, he would wear it regardless—whatever was mine, was also his, and was equally the same in reverse, even things as grotesque as blood.
Well, he would have worn it, I should have said.
The sweater had been specifically tailored for him. I remembered how the soft sleeves hugged his arms so well that every fluid curve of his biceps was visible, similar to a building wave before it crested. On me, the sleeves swallowed my arms whole, which I liked to think in their own unique way had also been unintentionally tailored for me, like someone out there knew one day I would need some way to drown in him when he was gone.
Finnick’s fingers tugged at the silk ribbons, unwrapping the opulent gift box that sat on our dining table. Capitol devotees would send extravagant parcels weekly, turning up in abundance on our doorstep. Sometimes Finnick didn’t even bother opening them; sometimes we opened them together just to get a good laugh out of whatever ridiculous item was inside.
He never, though, opened the perfume-scented letters marked with lipstick stains.
“Oh,” I said in surprise as he lifted the lid. Inside was a folded piece of fabric, knitted and cream-white and intricate, though still simple. It was soft to the touch; thick enough to retain warmth. I held it up with two hands, admiring the hand-sewed threads of cotton. Whoever’s handiwork this was, it was nothing to laugh at.
Holding it up to Finnick’s torso, I smiled and said, “Try it on.”
“What?” He shook his head and smiled quizzically. “No.”
“Yes. I think it will look good on you.” I pressed it further against him with conviction. “Try it on.”
He tilted his head and exhaled deeply through his nose, giving me a begrudging, squinty-eyed look. From that, I already knew I had won him over, and watched as he snatched the sweater from my grasp and tugged his shirt off with one hand. I averted my eyes, feeling the tips of my ears flush with heat—we’d been together for over a year now; you would think I’d have grown accustomed to seeing him shirtless.
His head slipped through the neckline and he pulled the sweater down his body. I was right. It looked really good on him. Perfect, actually. The measurements were so precise that the fabric sloped off his shoulders like a compact mountain of snow. The thick-knitted collar dipped into a deep, uneven neckline that partly revealed his chest and made his neck look like a strong, contoured pillar. He looked at me expectantly, as though to ask, “Well?”
“It makes your neck and shoulders look really nice,” I blurted out, instantly cringing inside.
His expression contorted into something of amusement and surprise as he took a slow step towards me. “My neck and shoulders, huh?” he said, grinning devilishly. Oh, now I’d done it. Leave it to me to rocket Finnick Odair’s already atmospheric ego. “Anything else?”
I began backing away, but his prowling strides were so long that the space between us only shortened. When my backside hit the edge of the dining table, I knew I was done for.
“You know,” I began, avoiding his unrelenting stare. “I think it was just a momentary lapse of judgement.” He was closing in now, placing his hands on either side of my body to trap me in place. “It—It actually looks terrible on you,” I said, feigning sincerity and adding a little nod to help further my case.
His eyelids drooped as he gazed down at me, lips curving into that seductive smirk he had mastered long ago. “No takebacks,” he purred, voice low and gravelly. Dear God, I could only pray I wasn’t going to melt into a puddle on the floor. He always did this—took every opportunity to flirt and render me a stuttering, bashful mess. It was his favourite game to play. “This is now my new favourite shirt. All thanks to you, sweetheart.”
But, given the right timing and ever-wavering amount of confidence, I liked to play too.
I inhaled deeply, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray me. “Maybe you should take it off then,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “So you don’t ruin it.”
His mischievous expression revealed his next words before he even spoke them. “Maybe I will,” he said, and then he was tugging his sweater over his head, and I was tearing off my own. As his hands slipped beneath my thighs and lifted me onto our dining table, I prayed the wooden legs wouldn’t collapse under the weight of our next actions.
My fingertips ran over the soft, rippling patterns on the knitted sleeves, my arms crossed in a self-soothing manner. After that day, the sweater had become a sort of good luck charm—or so we agreed upon as we lay panting on the tabletop. He started wearing it to a multitude of events and parties in the Capitol (basically any place in which he needed a pick-me-up, a reminder of what he had to come home to, who he had to come home to).
He even wore it the day we got engaged.
So many happy memories were associated with this one white sweater. So many times, those cloud-soft sleeves were wrapped around my body, suffocating me in the scent of him—if nothing else, at least that remained.
The last time he had worn it was the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell; the last time our lives were ever semi-normal. I had fought tooth and nail to reach him before he was escorted onto the train, despite being ordered, “No goodbyes,” by one of the Peacekeepers. In modest terms, I had significantly decreased his chances of reproduction.
When I reached Finnick, he had brought me into a kiss so harsh and fervent that my lips were bruised the next day. He then yanked off his sweater, leaving his upper body completely exposed to everyone around us in complete disregard for his trauma-induced fear of doing so, and shoved it into my hands.
I had just stood there frozen in bewilderment, watching as he called out, “I love you, sweetheart!” Two Peacekeepers were forcing him onto the train, but he too fought for the last word. “Don’t forget—I’m always with you!”
That statement had never been truer than it was now. For better or for worse.
My vision unblurred as I returned to reality. Dismal, grey light was peeking through the shutters that formed the balcony doors, the daylight hours seeming to tick away at a snail’s pace. I used to wish for the days to be longer, for time to move slower, so I could savour the moments I had of happiness and sunlight which used to be plentiful.
Why do wishes only come true when you grow to desire nothing but the opposite?
Slothfully, I crawled onto the unmade king-size bed, my limbs crumpling and balling to my chest as the side of my head hit the pillow. The imprint on the mattress beneath my body didn’t match my own. It was much larger and broader. How long would it take for the springs to forget his body weight and recoil back into place as though he never existed at all?
I inhaled the sweater’s scent with every breath I took (and I tried not to wonder how long it would take for his scent to disappear as well) and hugged my arms around my waist. No pain was worse than the fleeting moments I forgot the embrace was my own and not his.
Hours passed, and so did the evening. A beautiful orange sunset hadn’t slipped through the shutter’s cracks because the clouds never dissipated. Night-time brought no consolation either. Not even the stars or moon made an appearance. Everything that once gave me a shred of optimism was hidden behind a veil of gloom.
I knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any different—the weather, my mood, his absence. Because the end of autumn was closing in, and the days were becoming bleaker. Trees would start shedding their leaves; the leaves would start to die.
I hoped I would too.
I was still curled up on my side, my body aching with stiffness, when my face began scrunching into this ugly, twisted mess of despair. My tears were slow yet heavy, synonymous with the day I had incurred.
But then something strange happened.
Someone called my name.
No. That couldn’t be right. I was the only one who occupied a house in the Victor’s Village; the others had either relocated after the war or were… dead.
But there it was again—my name, distant and eerie, yet spoken with a tone people often used to beckon over and aid a frightened, injured animal. My vision blurred, both from tears and concentration on the voice.
“Hey.”
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment my surroundings transformed into a kitchen, just that they had and that I was no longer in my bed but standing upright.
Ahead of me, in the distance, the sun was beating down on the crystalline water, and white frothy waves were cresting on the smooth, golden sand. It was a perfect day; not a cloud was in sight. The only blemish that smeared the blue sky was the reflection staring back at me from the window I gazed out of.
In my hands was a soup bowl and a damp dishrag.
“Sweetheart?” That once distant voice, concerned and beckoning, was standing right beside me.
Blinking, I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the window.
He stood tall beside me, despite being half hunched over the kitchen sink and scrubbing the last of the few dirty dishes stacked neatly on the bench top. His head was turned towards me, his enamoured sea-green eyes peering into my own as though he was searching behind them for what troubled me.
“Hey,” he spoke softly, standing up straight. His touch was warm and gentle as he reached for my hand, leaving soapy bubbles on my palm and fingers. “Where’d you go?”
Three odd things seemed to occur at once: first, I flinched away from his touch, overwhelmed by its paradoxical unfamiliar familiarity; second, I felt an inexpressible relief from seeing him standing before me, seeing his cheeks painted with a soft pink hue as though blood-red roses were hidden just beneath his skin.
The third was an onset of disorientation. I couldn’t tell you why I felt disorientated standing in my own kitchen with the love of my life, just, simply, that I did. There was an answer—it was close by, right under my nose, yet unreachable. We did this every day, didn’t we? We would eat meals together and then wash up together. So, why did I feel so unsettled?
I shook my head, dispelling the confusion that muddled my brain. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what happened.” I laughed uneasily, without a hint of mirth.
He laughed too, not to poke fun or because he found my obvious turmoil amusing, but rather to comfort me, so I would feel less alone in my unease. “It’s alright,” he said gently.
Neither of us addressed what had happened; we simply resumed our routine of washing and drying in domestic silence. And as seconds turned to minutes, and as the sky remained sunny, I found myself smiling. All that mattered was that he was standing beside me and that the sun was beaming in the sky. So, I kept smiling.
After I finished drying the last dish, we began placing the plates, bowls, and an abundance of cutlery in their assigned drawers and cupboards, weaving past each other and giggling anytime we got in one another’s path. I was carrying a stack of white plates, eyeing the high cupboard they needed to go in, but before I could even attempt straining onto my toes, the plates were out of my hands and taken into another much larger pair.
The smell of sea salt and expensive cologne wafted from behind me as he towered over my shorter frame and placed the plates in the cupboard.
“I could have done that,” I said, smiling as I turned around to face him.
He had a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, right. What are you, like, four feet tall?” he joked.
It was an extreme exaggeration since I was no way near that height, but I suppose everyone was miniature in comparison to him, being over six feet tall and all. I feigned open-mouthed offence, to which he gave the side of my head a quick, playful kiss of apology.
He then leaned against the counter with crossed arms. “Plus, when was the last time you actually put these dishes away? I’m surprised you even remember where they go.” He was grinning at me in a teasing manner, but every ounce of humour had drained from my body.
My eyes drifted to the floor.
Well, that was the question, wasn’t it—when was the last time I put the dishes away?
I couldn’t remember. In fact, I couldn’t remember what had happened this morning or the day before. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what we were doing before the dishes.
To be standing in a room, in a place you call home, and have a sense that nothing is in its right place, even though that is where everything has always been, is a disconcerting feeling beyond belief. To be perplexed by your own state of being—your existence—is even worse. I could almost describe it as a nauseating bout of vertigo.
My hands found the counter’s edge behind me, and I exhaled a shaky breath.
He stepped in front of me, one large and gentle hand reaching up to cup my jaw. “Are you okay?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling with shallow worry lines as he inspected my face. I hated that. I hated that I worried him so much. Sure, partners were supposed to lean on each other for support in a relationship (as he too did with me when needed), but I always felt so guilty doing so. Hadn’t he already suffered enough… pain in his lifetime? Who was I to cause him any more?
A sunbeam suffused the room, oozing across his face. The illumination lightened his eyes into a refreshing mint green, though, in contradiction, unearthed a pain that had been previously been concealed. Pain from what, I wasn’t sure. From concern regarding my unusual behaviour? Maybe a thought that was troubling him? Or perhaps he too was enduring a spell of confusion and had an inexplicable feeling that he was out of place.
Whatever his pain regarded, seeing it had rattled the deepest structures in which held my mind together.
It was then that I suddenly realised I hadn’t answered his question, so I gave him a wan “I’m-not-too-sure-myself” smile and then began slinking back to the sink window.
He followed behind me. I could feel him staring into the back of my head, could feel his brows draw together and his lips pull into a tight line, patiently waiting for a further explanation, though I wasn’t sure I could offer him one.
I hadn’t noticed before, but on the windowsill was a small picture frame containing a polaroid picture of us in bed—I was lying on his chest, half-naked and asleep, and he was looking down at me, smiling fondly yet with a sort of mischievous knowability. Running down the middle of the protective glass was a small, jagged crack.
I plucked the frame from the windowsill, inspecting the picture in my two hands. It seemed to uncover a place in my mind—once clouded by disorientation—I’d forgotten. Whether this place was real or imaginary was beyond me, but the fear I felt upon its recollection was incandescently genuine.
“Do you think,” I spoke tentatively, “people can have nightmares while they’re wide awake?” My thumb ran over the crack.
I might have heard him inhale a quiet, sharp breath, but it also could have just been the waves breaking on the distant shore. “Like a flashback?” he asked, an unidentifiable unease in his tone.
“No, not exactly.” I searched my brain for the right words, the right way to tell him how I was feeling, but it was difficult when I could only conjure vague fragments. And it was all I could do to tell it to him elliptically, as I knew saying the words in any other manner would shatter my heart.
“I had this vision,” I began, my words apprehensively staccato, “where I was somewhere else.” My eyes flickered over the picture. “Somewhere… bad. Everything was grey and heavy, and I was alone. Sometimes you were there, but you—you weren’t really you anymore.” I paused and looked up to find him staring at me in the reflection of the window. He looked pained; it was then suddenly hard to recollect a time when he didn’t. My throat started to constrict. “You were gone and…” my voice quietened to a broken wisp of wind, “you were haunting me.”
The room was silent.
He said nothing in response
The transparency of his reflection in the glass was so familiar—so haunting—and it was like another forgotten matter had been dredged from the depths of my mind. Stinging tears brimmed my waterline, and, due to my inability to bear the sight of his translucent appearance, I forced myself to turn around.
I glanced up at him, smiling weakly as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head as if my need to apologise was nonsensical (even I was unsure of what I was apologising for), and he then pulled me into a tight embrace. His chin rested atop my head; my face was buried in his chest, and his arms held me like I was some dilapidated structure that relied on his support to remain upright. Part of me knew this sentiment was correct.
I expected his next words to be ones of consolation or reassurance, maybe an “I’m right here, sweetheart” or an “I’ll never leave you”. Instead, I felt his head turn and heard him say, “Think it’s going to storm?”
With a sniffle, I turned my head towards the window. The arms wrapped around my body tightened as if he somehow knew I would need the extra support. Because when I saw the wall of dark, opaque clouds rolling through the sky towards us, an unshakeable dread zapped through my heart.
My hands clung to the fabric of his cream-white sweater, which then brought to my attention that an inexplicable tingling sensation was spreading down the fingers of my right hand, numbing them.
Lightning flashed on the horizon, and the once serene waves began cresting violently on the shoreline. The dread grew.
Before my attention could drift too far, my name was called again.
I looked up to find those green eyes gazing down at me, swelling with tears. He was crying. Why was he crying? And why was his hair wet? His usually golden strands had darkened to a deep brown and were drenched with cold water that dripped onto my cheeks, and his hair was swept haphazardly across his forehead, a reflection of someone who had just endured an intense storm or had just been fighting for his life against a swarm of—of—
No.
My own eyes began to burn.
“It’s killing me to see you this way,” he spoke, every second word breaking and wavering in volume.
The world seemed to tilt on an axis. Return did the disorientation, ravaging my mind more violently now. “What do you”—My chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths—“What? What do you mean?” My lower lip was quivering, and my eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. His words replayed in my head: It’s killing me to see you this way.
It’s killing me.
His hair was dripping—no longer with water, but with a thick, red substance that both dripped down and clotted on his skin. He didn’t look pained anymore; he looked like he was in pain.
It’s killing me.
But that can’t be right, can it?
It’s killing me.
Why?
It’s killing me.
Becausemy Finnickwas already dead.
I staggered backwards and out of his, no, this imposter’s arms. He stared at me as blood streamed down his forehead, pouring over his eyelashes and down his cheeks. I was going to be sick. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a newly invented punishment from Snow. But that wasn’t right either: Snow was dead too.
“F…Fi…” I tried saying his name, my top teeth prodding the inside of my bottom lip, but I couldn’t make a sound.
He took a step towards me, and I almost stumbled onto the floor. “Remember what I told you?” he asked, though it sounded more like an urge.
I frantically shook my head. No, I didn’t remember. I didn’t want to remember anything.
Something dark and mountainous appeared in my peripheral vision, and an odious smell singed my nostrils. My head snapped to the left. Stacks upon stacks of plates and bowls mounded the kitchen sink, each crawling with maggots that were falling to the floor in white, wriggling heaps.
Nausea boiled in my stomach; horror brimmed my eyes.
I quickly turned away, my eyes meeting green again. His face was no longer stained with blood, and his hair was dry, shiny, and golden with life. I was as speechless as my face was drained of blood.
He took one more step toward me, but this time I didn’t back away, either frozen with fear or desperation for one last experience of closeness with him. My heart thrummed as he reached out to cup my face. It isn’t him, it isn’t him, it isn’t him, I repeated madly in my head. Oh, but it felt so much like him when his warm hand met my skin.
“I told you I’m always with you, sweetheart,” he murmured. And I knew engaging with him, in whatever form he took, affirmed my mental unwellness, but I couldn’t stop from leaning into his touch anyway. “Remember that.”
My cheeks were wet with tears. “I love—”
A bolt of lightning flashed, and thunder boomed throughout the house.
I was back in my bed.
My eyelids were heavy with sleep as they fluttered open. I felt detached, destabilised, and unsure of my existence in the world for I wasn’t sure which of the twoI was currently in. Real or fake?
A few minutes went by before I managed to get a grip on reality, which, in fact, was the real one. The Somewhere Bad. I pinched the corners of my eyes, not only finding them damp with fresh tears but also realising that my right hand—previously tucked beneath my head—was numb.
None of it had been real…
The entire time, my body was trying to alert me, to save me from the inescapable heartache I would feel upon waking. He hadn’t held me in his arms. He hadn’t cupped my cheek nor helped me wash the dishes. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere (not even in his own marked grave because there was nothing left of him to be buried).
Even despite seeing the familiar tall outline standing in the doorway, his features illuminated with each flash of lightning, I knew it wasn’t really him.
Rain was pummelling the roof, almost loud enough to subdue the perpetual rumbling of thunder (apart from the one sky-splitting thunderclap that had woken me). In another time, I would’ve been scared—of the raging storm, of my phantom lover who was watching from the shadows of our bedroom. But not now.
In recent months, I had found that no emotion, not even fear, surpassed the soul-crushing realisation that you have irretrievably lost the one thing you lived for.
On a defeated whim, and for the first time since his death, I let the singular, weighted word breeze past my lips.
“Finnick.”
It was a trembling plea, a desperate beckon.
And he indulged.
His footsteps were silent as he walked towards the bed. I couldn’t see his legs from my position, prompting me to wonder if he even had legs at all. Or did he only have legs when I could see them? That would then insinuate that if I couldn’t see him at all, he didn’t exist.
If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? In my case, the answer was simple: no, it didn’t.
It wasn’t really Finnick. It wasn’t even his ghost. It was my mind.
He reached the bed’s edge, and I scooted over to my side of the mattress, allowing him enough space to lie down on his. His weight neither dipped nor shook the bed as he laid down and turned on his side to face me. His eyes were sad, and I’m sure mine were too. We stared at each other for a long, long time, long enough for my fatigued body to start playing tricks on me.
If I focused hard enough, I thought I could hear the sound of his breathing (the wind was picking up outside), feel the warmth of his skin spreading onto the sheets (the remnants of my own body heat were left behind each time I moved), and smell the musky scent of cologne and sea-salted hair (the sleeves of his sweater were tucked beneath my nose).
Maybe for a moment—just one sickly, self-indulgent moment—I could pretend it was really him.
I inhaled deeply through my nose. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you would haunt the next owner of this house,” I whispered as light-heartedly as I could, my voice obscured by the heavy rain pouring onto the roof.
He smiled, and it was one of the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful things I had ever seen. I think I might have given him one in return, though I couldn’t be too sure because the concept of smiling had become so foreign. The last time I was truly happy was… the last night we spent together. In each other’s arms, safe and warm and together.
And then he was gone. Just like that.
Cressida, whom I had only spoken to once in Thirteen when the war ended, was the one to tell me how it happened. Katniss was too personal, too close to him; Peeta’s instability rendered conversation futile. So, I had asked Cressida to tell me every detail—every expression on his face, every word he screamed. I don’t know why. Maybe it was so I could cling onto those last few minutes where he was still alive and breathing, despite dying and bleeding; or so I could replay the moment over and over in my head, as if somehow, someway, I could change his fate.
“He talked about you all the time,” she had told me. “Actually, I don’t think he ever spoke of anything but you. No one minded, though. While we were out there, no one ever really smiled, but every time your name was mentioned, Finnick would get this great big grin on his face, and it was impossible not to look at him and start smiling as well.
So, we all started asking questions about you: ‘What colour is her hair? Her eyes? Where did you meet? What are her hobbies?’—just to see him smile… A week passed, and it was like we all knew you inside out. It was all we could do to hang on to some shred of happiness, even if it meant talking about a girl who, to all of us, was a stranger.”
I was inconsolable after that.
She kept talking, but my sobs had drowned out most of her words, so much that I had asked her to retell me everything later in the day, despite inducing the same outcome. So, she told it to me again, just as she did the day after that and the day after that and so on until I returned home to District Four.
“He also spoke about how you never felt comfortable living in the Victors Village. He had this idea that the two of you would move somewhere far away, outside the borders of District Four­, though he emphasised remaining by the sea was very important—something about how you looked while swimming during sunset and the water was all sparkly around you.”
At this point, she had been holding my hand, knowing full well how debilitating it was for me to hear. Then she had spoken with a quiet incredulity and a facial expression to match, as though she’d never encountered a love like ours before. “He wanted to build a house for you…”
He wanted to build a house for you.
And now he never would. Our love was too ephemeral for that to happen; destined to remain history; to be a memory.
Finnick's eyes stared into mine, the green hue now a dark grey from the overshadowing dimness of the room.
“I would’ve gone anywhere with you,” I whispered to him, placing my hand on the sheets between us. “I would’ve travelled thousands of miles away from this place. Would’ve lived in solitary, just the two of us, for the rest of our lives.” A warm tear tickled the bridge of my nose. His eyebrows scrunched together in shared anguish. “God, Finn, I miss you,” my voice broke. “I miss you so much.”
I contemplated crying, sobbing, screaming, or begging for him to come back, but I was just too tired. All my energy had been spent on grievance throughout the following day, and my eyes were growing heavier by the second as my body was sinking further into a state of relaxation.
Between slow blinks, I watched Finnick’s large hand move to rest atop my own, and at that point, I knew sleep would soon catch me because I swear I could feel his warm touch.
Images flashed through my mind—incomprehensible and melting together, yet somehow still graspable.
Sky blue water rippling with calm waves, the surface glittering in the setting sun. A white stonewall cottage fronted by soft, white sand and tall palm trees. Two plates of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast. Three pairs of footprints in the sand, one larger, one smaller, and another between them so delicately tiny I could fit them into the palm of my hand.
Sea-green eyes above me. Golden hair tangled between my fingers. Finnick standing in the wooden doorway of our white stonewall cottage wearing a cream-white sweater and rolled-up slacks. Finnick grinning deeply and then throwing his head back with laughter. Finnick standing in front of our bed, taking my hand in his and guiding me towards him. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick.
Finnick holding our child.
I was between worlds now, both indistinguishable from the other. My eyelids were drooping, and I was quickly growing insensate. Just before my eyes closed completely, I saw Finnick’s—he who wasn’t really my Finnick—lips move. It wasn’t in my bleak reality in which I heard him speak, but rather in my mind, and God, did his words offer the sweetest relief.
“I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”
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raginglesbian2006 · 3 months
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Hey.
I am in love with your I was wondering if you could do Alastor helping reader with their period that have really bad cramps. I am going through it now and I’d really appreciate it. You could totally ignore this if you aren’t comfortable with it. :)
Thank you for requesting it! I do hope you feel better in no time. I know period cramps can be a real bitch.
Taking care of you
Alastor x reader
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This was a bloody start to another bloody day in hell. Literally.
Oh, how you wished you were spared from the pain that came with periods in your afterlife but NOPE, you had to suffer eternal damnation AND fend off your deadly cramps.
Speaking of cramps, here you were, twisting and turning in your bed hoping that the pain would subside eventually, but it seemed as though it just got worse with every second. You moaned in distress, wondering what you'd done in life to send you to hell and be subjected to such terrible cramps.
In the middle of all the tossing about, you heard a knock at your bedroom door. You did not have the energy to go open it, nor did you want to raise your voice to tell whoever was on the other side to get lost. So you just lay there, underneath the blankets, clutching your abdomen to soothe the pain, albeit failing miserably.
You heard the knock again, this time with the familiar static ringing through.
"Good morning, my dear. It's time to wake up! You can't be in bed all day!"
You ignored him and stuck your head deeper into the pillows, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, hoping he'd go away soon.
Oh how wrong you were.
"Now my dear, it is quite rude to ignore someone like this, no?"
Your hair stood on end, and you gasped, surprised by the radio demon appearing right in front of your bed. Of course, you should've expected him to pull this shit.
"Go away, Alastor," you groaned as you covered yourself fully in the warm blankets.
"Hm, I don't suppose I will," he said, with that permanent shit-eating grin on his face.
When you refused to comply, he forced you up, holding you tight by the arm, "Do not make me repeat myself, my dear." His static grew insufferably louder.
You looked at him and with no warning at all, started bawling your eyes out. Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed loudly.
Alastor let go of you immediately, startled by the turn of events. He looked flabbergasted and moved his arms to his side, unsure of what to do. Welp, this was a first.
Once your sobs subsided, you sniffled, embarrassed at your display of vulnerability in front of the radio demon.
What you did not expect was for him to sit next to you, on your bed and pet your head, soothingly.
"Now," he said, " What, pray tell, is bothering you so much?"
"Why do you care?" you mumbled, hiding your face in your blanket.
"Why, my dear?" he laughed, "Well I am the host of this fine establishment here, am I not? It is my job to make sure the residents of this hotel are well taken care of. Now, do tell me what grievances you are facing, cher."
You grumbled under your breath but relented anyway.
"It hurts. My period cramps are getting worse every minute and I don't know what to do." Your eyes started to well up with tears again. Stupid hormones.
"AH, so that's the problem?" Alastor got up and brushed off his coat, "I will be back in just a second, dear." And with that, he poofed out the room, as if he was never here in the first place.
It was only a minute after that he came back, this time holding a bowl containing something warm and inviting. You looked up at him curiously.
"This, my dear, is something my darling old mother used to make back when she was young. She had given this recipe to me telling me to make it for my future spouse whenever she had terrible cramps during that time of the month. Of course, it never came in handy when I was alive. What a pity."
Alastor then placed the bowl of warm soup into your hands. Your mouth watering at the sight of such a delicacy. Before you could take a sip, you looked up at the radio demon with skepticism, " How do I know there isn't... I don't know, demon flesh here."
Alastor laughed boisterously, " Oh, dear, I know that not everyone shares the same delicate palate I do. Rest assured it is completely safe for consumption for the likes of you."
You glared at him and took a spoonful of the dish in your hands. Your eyes lit up immediately, and you started gobbling down on the food, till the bowl was wiped clean.
Satisfied with the meal, you placed the empty bowl on your nightstand.
"Thank you, Alastor," you said, looking at him with grateful eyes, "I feel a little better now."
You were about to get up from your bed when you felt a clawed hand push you down and tuck you into your bed, wrapping the warm blankets around you.
"W-wait, Alastor, I told you I'm fine," you said.
Alastor replied, "Nonsense! You take the day off and rest till you're fully better the next day. No one wants to see you in your pitiful state when you've still not recovered, now do they? Brings the whole morale of the staff down, don't you think?"
You chuckled at his theatrics. Although it seemed like he was being mean to you, you still felt the warmth and care he was showcasing. Maybe you were just delusional.
Once he was satisfied with how you were rolled up like a burrito, he conjured up a radio in his hands and placed it near your bed, tuning the little machine to play some soft jazz. You were touched by this little sentiment.
"Thank you, Alastor, truly," you said, smiling softly.
"Do not mention it, dear. I am just doing my job." Saying this, he clicked his fingers and disappeared from the room.
You cuddled into the warm bed. Your smile remained as you closed your eyes. The room echoed with the soft music playing through the radio.
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WIBTA to refuse tutoring my nephew even though I'm not sure what he did wrong?
So I (24, F) have been tutoring my nephew/the son of my mum's close friend (10, M) for a couple of weeks now. His mum pays me for the hours I spend teaching him and honestly despite the kid being obviously ADHD I don't really mind him getting constantly distracted because it's clear he still understands what I'm explaining to him, so we had a pretty good relationship up until this point as I was way more understanding of him than any other tutors or even his own mother, although I don't really know him THAT well.
During our tutoring sessions my cat, Pudding (14, F) would usually stay in the same room with us. She likes to stay in the same room as other people but usually doesn't let strangers pet her and will go away if bothered too much. Well, Nephew being distractable as he is would often go up to her to pet her as he would answer a question of mine or just as a thing between answering questions. Strangely enough Pudding did let him do that and didn't seem to be THAT bothered by it, so I too ignored it and just let him do it.
Now, here's the issue: A few days ago after we finished our tutoring session for that day I left the room to wash my hands in the kitchen since we were eating snacks during the session. My house's kitchen is literally DIRECTLY next to the room where we have our tutoring sessions so it couldn't have taken longer than 10-15 seconds from me leaving before I heard a cry from Pudding. "Oh, she must've finally gotten annoyed with Nephew's behaviour, I'll tell him to stop bothering her." I thought to myself as I finished washing my hands, yet before I was even able to make it back to the room I heard a second, much louder meow, the kind of meow a cat only makes if they ACTUALLY get hurt. So now, properly concerned, I round the corner into the room and see Nephew sitting right next to where Pudding is still laying, now with her ears flat and looking at him. He must've seen the confusion on my face because the first thing he said was "We were just playing." to which I blurted out that clearly she was not in the mood to play and walked over to check on her. While doing that, I noticed that there was a blanket slightly covering Pudding's hind legs, so I assumed maybe Nephew accidentally put his weight there without realizing she had her paws there. I VERY GENTLY pulled back the blanket and VERY GENTLY touched her legs to see if they were hurt, and then she BIT me and finally ran away. Of course I don't blame her, and in fact that only strengthened my concern because Pudding is a VERY polite cat, if she's bothered by anything she will just leave and if she bites for play it's always very gentle and doesn't leave a mark, this was not that. Afterwards I couldn't get any useful information out of Nephew as to what exactly he did, he just kept saying that he was petting her and she got annoyed which was clearly not true, so I dropped the subject and just sent him home.
Now it's been a few days since that happening and I've checked on Pudding's legs a few times since then. She doesn't respond to me touching them at all and she doesn't limp or anything so either she didn't get injured, or the legs were never the issue in the first place and me touching her was simply the last straw in that already stressful situation for her. Despite that however, I find myself not wanting to have Nephew over for tutoring anymore as I'm afraid that something like this might happen again when I'm literally gone from the room for less than a minute. It really annoys me that I have absolutely no clue what happened while I was gone, I don't even have a way to know if Nephew did whatever he did intentionally or by accident since him saying they were just "playing" could very well be just his honest perception of the situation, or him lying and being vague on purpose because he knows he did something wrong. The reason why I feel like Nephew might be lying about doing bad things on purpose is because Nephew's family has two cats, so I really feel like he should know better already and be more careful. Another point is the fact that this literally happened the INSTANT I was gone from the room, almost as if he was waiting for me to be gone to do something (as far as I recall I haven't ever left him alone with Pudding before this point), though admittedly that could just be unlucky coincidence. Plus, I find it REALLY hard to believe he'd be able to make Pudding cry like that on accident, I've genuinely NEVER heard her make a sound like that, ever, not even at the vet's. On the other hand however I know that he was failing his math class badly before I started tutoring him and I'm almost certain he'd start to fail again if I stopped helping him. Not only that, I'd have to come up with a lie about being too busy to do tutoring or something else since obviously I can't tell his mother "Hey your son might've done something bad but I'm not really sure and don't really have any proof and can't even tell if it was really intentional or not", since I realize how ridiculous that sounds despite still genuinely feeling incredibly uncomfortable about the whole situation.
So with all of that out of the way, would I be the asshole for denying him my tutoring services just because I feel uncomfortable about the idea of him possibly hurting my cat on purpose, even when I don't really have any proof that he did it on purpose or would do it again?
What are these acronyms?
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eustasskidagenda · 6 months
Text
anon asked: Hi sweetie, My brain just can't get over the idea of Kid being pegged, I mean, everything is so 'grabable" on his body. So could you write an OS or drabble about this? With a female reader. Maybe Kid would have that kink after a certain time in their relationship, according to your NSFW alphabet. With maybe some overstimulation, hair pulling and spanking as additional kinks? And if it's possible, could you write this with Kid being pegged for the first time? I think it's can be interesting! Last, please, can you write him as extra tough/bratty but his attitude breaks bc he can't handle how good it feels. I hope my request was understandable, I don't know how to explain myself properly. Tysm for your time and anon please
Hi! Well, that was an interesting request! And you’re so damn right, Kid's body is so grabbable. It was quite fun to write, Kid is such a brat, I love him so much :D Sorry for the long wait (my back is still injured) and thank you for requesting, I hope I did the job correctly :D ☆
☆Eustass Kid getting pegged for the first time
CW : MDNI, smut, f!reader, pegging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spanking, praises (bc Kid lives for praises), established relationship, Kid has a filthy mouth, Kid is a big brat, kind of virginity loss kink I guess (?), fingering & oral sex (Kid receiving), dirty talk, rough sex
WC : around 4K. I know it's really long, but I wanted to develop a bit Kid's mindset. Hope you don't mind the length!`
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Kid is everything, but not submissive. It's written on his face, and the moment you met him, you immediately knew that he would always be in control of absolutely everything. Including in the bedroom. And you never tried to change that, because Kid knows what he's doing. You crave the sensations of his hands gripping your waist and his huge body pressing against yours. However, in the back of your mind, a fantasy always refused to leave your spirit. Your giant, hot-headed boyfriend, moaning and begging while you fuck him. So, once, you tried to talk him about pegging, and you earned nothing, but a dark, mad scowl and a "no" yelled loudly."I'm not a wimp, y/n, no one will ever fuck me. I ain't no bottom bitch." That's what he said. And you know Kid is a stubborn mess, so you never tried to bring the subject up again.
It was five years ago. 
Your mind is still filled with this fantasy. So, a few days ago, you tried again to convince your stubborn boyfriend. It was in the middle of a passionate make-out session, and you caught him off-guard. Initially, you believed that he would yell at you once more. However, he simply scowled and frowned. "You're so goddamn stubborn, I thought you would forget about this stupid idea." And then, he shrugged. "You better take the bigger size, I'm not a fucking pussy." 
You still don't realize that he actually said 'yes'. In his language, with a lot of cursing and arrogance, but he did accept. It took him five years to gain sufficient trust in you. What a challenge. That's what you think as you relax on the huge bed and read a book that Kid stole for you. You're waiting for him, actually. Kid is probably locked in his workshop, working on some random weapon or new arm improvement. 
Suddenly, the door hits the wall. "You're not sleeping yet?" He asks, closing the door behind him. He's still wearing his goggles and his lips are painted with your favorite red lipstick. And on his skin, some stains of oil. "Gonna take a shower, I'll be right back soon." You laugh softly. "Fine, but don't remove your makeup yet." He mutters 'I don't take orders from anyone' before slamming the door once more.
When he comes back with make-up still on his face, you can't help but smile. He listened to you. Locking the door with a kick, Kid drops his heavy coat on the ground, cracks his neck, and crawls on the bed. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist. "Come here. I want to fuck my pretty girlfriend." He sits you on his lap and holds your hips firmly. As he smears his lipstick on your neck, you shudder and put your face against his neck. Kid slides his hand and firmly gropes your ass. "Mine," he growls, squeezing your bottom. "I want to see that pretty ass, undressed and get on all fours," 
You raise an amused eyebrow. "No, I won't." He scowls, irritated by your teasing expression. You roam your hands along Kid's broad chest. "You're the one getting on all fours this time." He scoffs. A low chuckle rumbles up from his chest as he gazes at you. "You're being feisty tonight?" He squeezes your ass tighter. "No. I didn't forget what you said. I chose the larger size. So, will you let me fuck you?" 
Totally flushed, Kid scoffs once more. "Goddam, y/n" You can almost see the gears of his brain working quickly. "Why are you so obsessed with this thing?" He groans, still holding your cheeks and squeezing them like if it were a stress ball. "Because you're hot. And you know where your prostate is, right, Eustass?" Kid scowls at you. "I'm not stupid, y/n." You gently touch the corner of his lips with a kiss. "So let me pleasure you." 
You take off his goggles and his red hair falls free on his forehead. He's as beautiful and fierce as ever, gazing at you with his amber eyes. He forces you to sit on his lap while he thinks. And his laps make quite a beautiful throne to sit on. Your heart is racing and you're hoping Kid won't change his mind. You need to see that large, massive body, shivering under your touch. There's something so exciting about the idea of fucking such a big, tough, and rude man as Kid. "Y/n, I swear on everything I have: if you ever try to tell to anyone what I'm about to do… I'll fucking kill you. And I'm not even kidding."
Damn, you know he's not kidding.
Kid cares way too much about his reputation. He's so touchy and sensitive whenever someone tries to deny his status or powers. So, abandoning his dominant position is not easy for his stubborn mind. He must really cares about you. Your dear captain only knows the hard way. His strong spirit was the only thing he had as a poor child, when he used to fight for almost everything. That's why he toughens up so much. Right now, he seems much more human. There's a hint of anxiety in his eyes. Maybe he loves you, but people have betrayed him so many times, he can't help but be a bit distrustful. "Eustass, I won't tell anyone, even Killer. It's between you and me, I swear. " Kid sighs deeply. " Goddam woman… fine." 
Relieved, you kiss his lips softly. As a punk, Kid always craved for non-conformism. You noticed really soon that he was always curious to try things considered 'weird' by society. But you never thought he would let you peg him. Your heart is brimming with excitement, pride, and impatience. You squirm to escape the strong grasp of your boyfriend and reach for the nightstand .Kid watches closely as you grab the lube and the strap-on. You didn't lie; you chose the larger size. Kid glances at the toy for a long moment, but remains quiet. 
"Alright, come here and lie back." Immediately, Kid raises an eyebrow. "You want me to take orders from you? Ain’t no fucking way" Ah yes. Kid. Constantly bratty and hot-headed. "Come on, Eustass." You gently try to push him on his back, but he doesn't move, struggling with his inner thoughts. "Let me pleasure you." As you press your palms harder against his chest, he snarls and eventually lies back, completely tensed. You reach for his belt and he pushes your hand. "I can do that myself," he grunts, taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belts and unbuttoning his pants. 
Damn, what a sight to watch at Eustass Kid's naked body. Muscular shoulders, broad and toned chest, abs as hard as the stone, big and grabbable thighs, and that perfect muscular, round booty. "Your name is so accurate, Eust-ass", you laugh as his face turns as red as his hair. "Shut up and do your fucking job," he barks aggressively. He's trying to hide his flustered state. How cute.
Your hand reaches for his already hard cock and you firmly wrap your hands around the thick girth. Kid bucks his hips, eager for more friction. "You're so hard. Are you actually turn on by the situation?" His cock twitches in your palms. "You know what? You should shut the fuck up. Why won't you suck my cock?" He grins and grabs your hair. Damn, even now, he can't help but give your orders. Kid smirks as you comply, content with himself. "That's it, take it all." His cock is throbbing with needs as he pushes deeper down your throat. You can already taste his pre-cum in your mouth.
You keep sucking him while reaching for the lube, spreading it on your fingers, and guiding your fingers against his tight hole. Kid tenses automatically. "Just do it, I'm not a pussy," he mutters. With a wet sound, you remove his cock from your mouth. "Eustass, just to be sure: have you already been fucked in the ass before?" 
Now, even his neck is red. "Hell no. Do I fucking look like a guy who likes being fucked all the fucking days?" He snarls, his pride stinging. His thoughts are filled with lust as he feels your hands on him, making his heart race. "Now what?" You don't answer and continue to run your hands along his muscular thighs, grabbing them to widen his legs. "You're so pretty for me." Kid lets out a low, growling sigh, his cock twitching with the need. "Don't call me pretty. And fuck me, I'm dying of impatience" 
"Fine, fine. You're needy." You gently tease him, spreading his ass cheeks to take a look at this hole clenching around nothing. Eustass tenses under your touch. "Don't fucking look at my ass like that" he growls, squirming nervously. "Why not?" You whisper, kissing his inner thighs and squeezing his muscular flesh. With your lips, you trace all of his scars and curves. "Because I'm not some fucking object for you to gawk at!" Kid roars, shoving your hands away from his ass. "Now, are you going to fuck me or what?"
You can't help but chuckle. He's such a hot-headed mess. Even more stubborn, yelling and aggressive than usual. Your poor boyfriend is really flustered and turned-on by this situation. The unknown is something he finds unpleasant because he can't control it. "Don't worry, I'll fuck you soon. Let me prepare and stretch you first." You're rubbing your fingers against his entrance, as you say. "Prepare me?" He sneers, his voice thick with disbelief and irritation. "I'm not some delicate flower" He continues to protest, but his heart is racing at the thought of being filled with the massive strap you choose. "Stop being so bratty." You sigh, apply more lube to your fingers, and spread it on Kid's entrance. " Just breathe and relax for me." You gently push two lubricate fingers inside him. His warmth and tightness immediately surround you. With a shiver, Kid groans and grabs the bedsheets. His head, neck, and shoulders are all flushed. 
Kid groans as you keep teasing the tip of his cock with your free hand. The double-stimulations is too much for his body to handle. You gently push your fingers deeper, savoring your boyfriend's low grunts and how he clenches around you. So needy already. "You're doing okay, babe?" You ask teasingly, curling your fingers and rubbing his prostate. Kid grabs the bedsheets tightly. Right now, he looks so vulnerable; he doesn't have his prosthetic arm. Just his bare body covered with scars and his big thighs trembling crazily. "Don't call me 'babe'" he grunts, bucking his hips against your hands, eager for more of your touch. It's almost hilarious how hard he tries to hide the moans of pleasure that threaten to escape his lips. "Look like you're enjoying yourself" you tease, stimulating his prostate. "Fuck!" Kid groans, his body arching off the bed. "Just get it over with, I can't get much fore of your goddamn teasing!" he growls, his voice laced with need. 
Eustass 'Captain' Kid is finally begin to break down.
That is so fascinating to watch such a big and scary man, so needy and almost begging for more. Begging to actually be fucked. You continue to finger him and he yells, his eyes rolling back in his head as the sensation shot straight to his cock. The pre-cum is leaking onto your fingers and his stomach as his member throbs in your hand. Kid's body trembles, betraying his arousal despite his best efforts to maintain control and the tough boy-attitude. "Just fuck me," he growls impatiently. 
"Okay. Then, get on your hands and knees." You demand, taking your fingers off. "No." 
"Why, no?" 
He frowns. Of course. He won't obey. No one can commands the great Eustass "Captain" Kid. You sigh, half-amused and half-annoyed by his stubbornness. Despite his dislike for orders, what if you simply guide him with your hands? Perhaps he will comply. Holding his hips with firm yet gentle hands, you attempt to roll him onto his stomach. But you can't move his big, heavy body if he's not willing to obey. Kid glances at you for a long time, and when you finally break the eye contact, he huffs and rolls on his stomach. Your heart is racing at the sight of his muscular back. Some scars are running down his spine. Both the small of his back and his ass are incredibly juicy. You can feel yourself becoming increasingly wet as you imagine the moment you will finally fuck him and drive him crazy. 
Still with your hands, you try to move him on all fours. Kid growls and arches his back. But he can't really stay on all fours with his missing arm, so he ends up with his head buried in the pillow and his ass perfectly raised in your direction. The position he's in is so helpless and vulnerable that it makes your throat feel a bit dry. He must really trust you to be so exposed. "You can breath at least?" He turns his head. "Of course I can, just fuck me."
He glances across his shoulders as you put on your strap-on and spread some lube on the fake cock. Kid asked for it to be both large and long, and it is. His spirit of competition is quite amusing, but you hope he'll be fine. You give a playful spank to Kid's amazing, muscular ass and enjoy the nice jiggling. It's only fair to give him a light spanking because it's his favorite activity when you're on all fours.
By pressing on the small of his back, you force him to bend more, enough to spread his ass cheeks without your hands. Then, you gently rub the cockhead of the toy against his tight entrance. Kid eyes roll back in his head as he feels the cold rubber head pressing against his hole. "Hurry up and fuck me, damn it! He grumbles with a voice full of desire and impatience. His cock throbbing between his legs shows that he's ready. "Just relax and let me in," your orders before starting to push the massive toy inside him. "Fuck", Kid hisses out between clenched teeth, his body shuddering from the intrusion. He tries to manage his breathing, and he feels the thick head of the dildo stretching his entrance further. "Shit…" he cries out, as the cockhead finally passes his tight ring of muscles. His body instinctively fights back. You soothe him with one hand while gripping his hips firmly with the other. "Just breathe, Eustass. You're doing so good. Just a little more and it will all be inside. " Kid grabs the bedsheets with his hand, his whole body shaking and covered in a slight coat of sweat. As Kid finally relaxes, you manage to push the big toy deeper into him.  "You're taking me so well, Eustass." You purr, watching the thick girth of the strap sink completely inside him, stretching his ass widely. "That shit is so fucking big," he groans out, his body shaking with the sensation of being filled so deeply. His ass walls are tightly clamped around the toy. "That's what you wanted" you laugh playfully, squeezing his ass. You can’t believe you’re finally filling him up to the hilt.
"Shit! I know. Just fuck me, I can handle it." Even as it overwhelms his senses, he cannot deny the pleasure that surges through him. Seeing him with a completely flustered face would be wonderful, but you know that he's probably more comfortable that way, with you taking him from behind. If you are unable to see his expressions, he may be more willing to let it go and indulge in the pleasure.
Your entire body is aching. It's too much for you. Kid is so perfect, so pretty, on all fours for you. His muscular body offers to your hands and thrusts. You had no idea that he would allow you to realize one of your most significant fantasies. Now, you have to take good care of him and prove to him how good it can be to be fucked. Maybe he will accept to do it again if he's convincing enough.
You gently start to thrust, sliding in and out with ease thanks to all the lube. The amount of lube is making some wet, obscene sounds with each thrust. Kid grunts, almost moans and tries to hide it behind a curse word as you move your hips. Your hands move from his waist to his ass, and you grab it firmly. You spank the firm flesh playfully. "So perfect" you whisper while thrusting. Kid groans lowly as you continue to plunge the toy into his ass. "You look so beautiful when I’m inside you." Kid sighs. "Can you stop babbling and actually starts to fuck me for real?" He tries to keep his moans under control, his teeth tightening tightly. 'Fuck," he mutters, his voice thick with need and desire. " Damn Eustass, you're taking me so well. You're so beautiful, I-"
" Harder " Kid grunts, silencing you. " I can take it, fuck me harder." You give another spanking to his ass, which slowly turns red. Kid bites the bedsheets, smearing his lipstick everywhere on the pillow and on the mattress. As you speed up your thrusts, Kid bites the bedsheets more firmly to muffle his moans. The sensations are too intense, the pleasure is too overwhelming for his poor mind. He can't think clearly, and is slowly starting to lose his tough-guy attitude. It's tempting to tease him about his pretty, husky moans. He's such a whimpering mess. But you shut up. It's obvious to you that he would feel mocked and humiliated. And you want him to trust you. It's beautiful to watch him indulge in a new world of sensations. With each hard thrust, the inner ring of the strap grinds against your clit, and you moan as well, digging your nails into Kid's ass. "You should see how your hole is swallowing all of me." The mind totally dizzy, your boyfriend doesn't react and just bucks his hips, eager for more friction, more roughness. "Yeah yeah i get it; you love my ass. Just fuck me harder," he begs again impatiently. His body is trembling as his mind still tries to fight against the pleasure washing over him. His cock twitch violently, releasing pre-cum as it throbs in response to your thrusts. "Fuck," he repeats, moaning. Burying his head in the pillow, he bites it. You know, his lipstick is probably all over the white bedsheets. You spank his ass playfully, speeding up your thrusts. "Damn, you were right Eustass, you're taking me so well. You like how wide it stretches you?"
The slapping sounds of the skin fill the room as Kid turns into a whimpering, almost whiny mess. It's difficult for him to handle how good you're stretching him and how nice the toy is rubbing his prostate. You continue to thrust, chasing your own highs. The rubber ring is stimulating your clit just nice, not to mention the amazing view of your boyfriend on all fours and at your mercy. The fake balls of the toy slaps against Kid’s balls. With one hand, you still hold his hips firmly. With the other, you pull on his hair, fucking him deeper. His face is completely red, his eyes are almost wet, and his lipstick is smeared on his chin and cheek. Amazed by this sight, your pussy ache in need. You already know how beautiful Kid looks when he can't handle how tight your cunt is. But that. It's beyond all expectations. The slight pain from his hair being pulled and his ass being spanked only add to his arousal, his cock throbbing with need. All he can mutter is a long, long strand of'shit' and 'fuck'. 
Kid buries his head back in the pillow after you release his head. His ass is red from both your spanking and the roughness of your hips when slamming against his. Amazed by the way his body is completely swallowing the toy, you too moan. You reach for his chest, squeezing his large tiddies. Your breast bounces crazily with each hard thrust and Kid's body just jolts of pleasure. You know he won't take much more. So you reach for his cock and as soon as you touch it, Kid cum violently, arching his back, curling his toes and making a mess on the bedsheets. The pleasure just washes over him. But you don't stop, still chasing your own highs. "Fuck!" Kid groans again, his body shuddering from the intense release. His massive frame falls stomach-first on the bed. The friction between his sensitive cock and the mattress is causing him to squirm and jerk. "Damn, Y/N!" He grips the bedsheets more tightly and pants heavily. The way you're overstimulating his sensitive walls and prostate is too much to handle.
"Almost there", you whisper, and finally, you feel the pleasure running through your veins. Your loud boyfriend can't help but cum once more, his eyes rolling back in his head, short-circuited by his second orgasm. You continue to give him some sloppy thrusts, making him squirm and cry out. "You're amazing," you whisper before finally pulling out the toy carefully. With a loud 'plop', you completely pull out the toy, leaving Kid with a gaping hole.
'You're okay?' You whisper, stroking his back gently and playing with his hair. "Hmph. That wasn't that bad" he admits, his chest heaving up and down. Your fierce boyfriend struggles to glance at you and keeps his head buried in the pillow. Despite the intense pleasure he'd just had, his pride is swollen. You gently kiss his lower back, leaving a trail of kissing along his spine. "You were amazing… so beautiful and perfect for me…" Kid grunts slowly. At the moment, he only needs praises. He cannot deny how good it was. And his mind is tortured. What does it mean? Is he still the same for you? Does he look less manly now? Or cruel, maybe? Ashamed, Kid slowly manages to relax as you keep praising him. "You're alright?" You ask, kissing his neck. "Yeah." He grumbles, still trying to catch his breath, and finally rolls onto his back. You take off the strap-on and leave the bedroom, just for a moment. When you came back with a wet cloth, Kid didn't move at all. Without any words, you clean him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" He shakes his head. "No. I fucking lost my arm, I can handle having my ass pounded, damn." He groans. "Alright, alright. Just move your ass then, let me change the bedsheets."
Kid struggles to comply, barely standing up on his shaking legs. After you're finished, he returns to his bed. "Are you joining me or what?" With a chuckle, you comply, pressing your naked body against his. Kid wraps his hand tightly around your waist. "I love you, Eustass" you whisper close to his ear. The confession brings his heart racing. "Of course you love me." 
He rolls on his side in silence. You know exactly what he wants, so you wrap your arms around his large body. "My big boy loves to be the little spoon," you laugh and he grunts a 'shut up'. 
His hand reaches for yours and intertwined your fingers. 
"Why are you smiling?" Kid asks as he feels you smile against his back. "Nothing." 
You're just so proud of your stubborn, hot-headed boyfriend. And proud of how your relationship just evolved. Kid is always hard to understand and you never know if he loves you, but those kind of moments… it eases all your doubts. You're overjoyed to have the chance to see the vulnerable, human Kid. He can sleep comfortably. You won't tell anyone about it; it was too precious, you want to keep it to yourself. 
"Alright, just smile then, he grumbles", still holding your hand.
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minhosimthings · 3 months
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I wanna be yours
Request: could you a friends w benefits fic with lee know x black f reader? like lee know got jealous bc of you hanging out w your guy best friend ( could be any one of the members) and lee know just fucks all his jealousy into you!!
Pairings: Minho × fem!reader
Warnings: smut MINORS DNI, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), overstimulation, swearing, degradation (sorta), dirty talk, fwb with Minho, dom!Minho, sub!reader
A/N: thank you for the request babyy. Alright I don't really write for any specific skintone even though I have dark skin myself, so I didn't give much of a description of skin tones or anything in this if you don't mind anonnie!
Lee Minho was an enigma, a sphinx, a puzzle you could try forever to solve but never can. And to read his emotions? That was simply an imposible feat.
And it surprised you how much you knew exactly when he was angry, or joyful, or even hiding that he had a fever.
It surprised the other boys greatly. You? A girl Minho met at dance class when he was perhaps 16? A year before he would go on to become dance leader of a world famous 4th gen boy group knows as Stray Kids? Yeah no way.
But you seemed to know Minho more than he seemed to know himself. You were- What was it called again? Oh yes.
Friends with benefits.
It enraged you. It maddened you. It drove you crazy. You craved him so much, to touch every part of his body. But you did that every night anyway. You wished fervently to touch his soul instead, to tell him, 'hey I like like you'.
So it was a mystery as to how you never noticed how petty and jealous Minho got whenever your skin was tainted by literally anyone else.
And he knew.
He knew that he probably shouldn't do it. You were a person of your own and he wasn't your boyfriend so why should he have any control over your personal life?
And yet a fire of jealousy burnt in him, when he found out that you had hung out with Hyunjin all day, instead of staying home with him. He had wanted to bake something with you, maybe those Ghibli cookies you had seen on the internet, but you had gently refused him, saying that you had promised to go get your nails down with Hyunjin. To say that he was offended would have been an understatement. Hyunjin? Over him?
But then again, he didn't own you. He wasn't someone you could kiss everyday and call your boyfriend. And that's why psychology is a powerful subject. To know about the feelings of people who called one another 'just friends' and yet had a magnetic force against between them, to have an urge to address each other not only sexually, but emotionally, that is true power.
"Well that was a nice trip." Hyunjin blew on his nails as his car stopped infront of your house, "Wanna do it sometime later?"
You smiled up at Hyunjin as you got down from his car, slamming the door shut and looking at his through the window.
"If Mr Lee Minho doesn't react like a sourpuss everytime I don't want to hang out with him, yeah I can hang out."
Hyunjin rolled his eyes at your statement. "He's in love with you!" He said in a sing-song voice before driving off, leaving you shaking your head and inserting your keys into your house's front door.
The familiar scent of cologne hit your nose as soon as you opened the door. Minho's cologne.
"And what the fuck are you doing in my house?" You deposited your bag onto the table, and marched upto the brown haired man sitting promptly on the couch and watching tv.
"Can't I visit your house?" Minho replied, not taking his eyes off of the tv, "I have a key."
"For emergencies Minho, you have it for emergencies." You sighed, taking the remote and shutting the tv off.
"I was watching that!" Minho glared at you, getting up to snatch the remote from your hands, which you quickly withdrew before he could.
"You have the biggest tv at your house, go watch it there." You grumbled, putting the remote down on the table.
You barely had any more time to process anything as Minho hands landed on your hips, maneuvering your body to fall forcefully against the couch, with him on top of you.
"Hyunjin's a handsome guy isn't he?" Minho said, brushing his fingers across your bra and carefully removing your bra, "So why don't you just go date him?"
Your scoff earned you a tight squeeze of your hips as Minho's hands worked fast to remove your leggings.
"Why would I want to date him?" You quizzed Minho, trying hard not to whimper as his bulge pressed against your panties.
"I don't know you always hang out with him."
"Jealous are we Minho?" You cocked a grin on your face at Minho, who glared at you and furrowed his brows.
Something about those four little words sent him into a tizzy of laughter. Pure, high-pitched, glorious laughter. You loved his laugh dearly, but you wouldn’t flatter him now. Not when you had him in the palm of your hand. At least, for the moment.
"Why should I be jealous of someone when I know you like me far more than you do him?" Minho shot back, his brows furrowed.
Your fingers traced his neck, his pecs, abs, until you felt his cock in your hands. He grunted softly, beautiful eyes fluttering as you touched him.
"You think I like you?" A blatant lie escaped your lips, making Minho's land on top of them. His kissed were always sweet, akin to something a bride would receive on her special day, but you never questioned it. He could have kissed you rough, aggressive, like the people in those porn videos do, but he never did.
He leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing you. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his teeth grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, always proud to make you putty between his hands.
"You're such a pathetic slut for me aren't you kitten?"
You threw him a half-hearted glare, not trusting your voice to deliver a retort in case it proved the point he was already trying to make. Instead, you pulled his face towards your own, locking him into a passionate kiss. You earned a particularly delicious groan as you gently dragged your tongue along his lower lip, silently prodding for access.
You whined into the kiss, causing the man to chuckle darkly, “What’s the matter, kitten? Needy are we?” He teased.
Minho's fingers went between you legs and he began rapidly playing with your clit. You moaned his name is cries loud enough for the neighbours to question.
"Oh?" Minho raised a brow at your actions, "You can't keep quiet for me can you kitten?"
Minho's finger flicked out against your clit, making you yelp and squeeze your thighs against his legs. Your grip on his curls tightened and you used them to try and pull him closer to your cunt. This time he ran his finger up to your clit and then back down and into you. You moaned, rocking your hips into his. Minho laughed, digging his hands into your hips, uncaring if he broke skin.
“More,” you moaned, wiggling your hips uselessly.
"Don't worry darling we'll get there." Minho chuckled, amused at how much you craved his touch.
The pace of his fingers fastened, as his middle finger drove across your clit, repeatedly assaulting the place Minho knew drove you crazy.
"Min- Min ah fuck!" A string of broken moans escaped your lips, as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Your mind has forgotten all about the fact that you were mad at him, your attention now only on the way his fingers fit inside your pussy, like a glove.
The knot in your stomach tightened quickly, making your hips jerk erratically against Minho's hand. Your breathing was heavy as choked sounds escaped your lips.
"You're so adorable kitten you know that?" Minho pressed a kiss onto your chest, "Always such a good whore for me."
When an answer didn't come from your mouth, Minho leaned down to you, his erection pressing against your pussy, making you whimper.
"Do you need me that bad kitten?" He growled into your ear.
"Say it, say you need me."
The pressure on your pussy was too much for you. You had the urge to refuse him, to tell him to just pick himself up and fuck off. But your mind was currently being controlled by your pussy.
"I need you.." you let out a low mumble
"Couldn't hear you kitten." Minho made his way to get up, making your hands fly to his collar and pull him back
"Yes- fuck I need you Min!"
"Then have me." He answered simply.
You hurried to undo his belt as he was fondling your breasts while placing kisses along your collar bones. He lifted his hips just enough for you to pull his pants down. He took a nipple into his mouth as you palmed his bulge through his boxers.
You freed his rock hard erection from his boxers and stroked it a few times. Minho let out a soft moan at the pleasurable feeling.
Minho settles between your legs again, sliding his hands under your thighs to gently manipulate you upwards. His bare cock slides through your slick folds, the head catching on your clit and making you groan in unrestrained want. You reach out to grab his body, dizzy with desire, dragging your hand down his abdomen to angle his cock right towards your aching hole. 
“ah-ah Minho....” You lift your hips and slowly begin to sink down on his cock. His fingers dig into your skin, you place your hands on his chest.
You start to rock back and forth and up and down, just the way you know drives Minho mad. He doesn’t bother to hold back from moaning his approval. You lean down after a few minutes, so your lips are almost touching his ear, and with each movement of your hips, you say his name like a prayer.
“You’re all nice and wet for me huh sweetheart? You treat me so well” Minho hummed as he ran his cock through your folds. You nodded dumbly, your eyes trained on his cock as he teased you with a dumb smile on his face.
“Please Minho-” you whined as he watched in amusement. He hushed you as he pushed into you slowly, a heavy moan leaving his lips as he bit his lower lip. He furrowed his eyebrows as he felt you clench around him but before you could tell him how good he felt, Minho began to pound you into the couch.
You moaned at his heavy slams, each of them knocking the wind out of you as he bullied your cunt. Animalistic moans filled your ears as Minho rambled to himself.
“Why’d you have to feel so fucking good, huh? Makin’ me feel like wanting to be your boyfriend?” Minho groans. His hips drive into yours sharply, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot with each move. He finds a rhythm with ease, sinking deep into you with each stroke of his body. 
"Min ahh-ahh fuck-fuck fuck!,” you babble, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your body takes it all in — the heat and pressure of his body on yours, his hands roaming up your body, the feeling of him inside you, so deep that your pelvis is flush against his. You can feel your slick dripping to your inner thighs, to his balls, making a mess of it all. Worth it.
Minho could see it on your face, you were close. He was already learning what each scrunch of your eyebrow and the pitch of your moans meant. “you're mine and mine only got it kitten?” he huffed, "No one else gets this."
You clench around him as you feel yourself near your climax, and Minho groans, but his rhythm remains unfaltering, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure— both yours and his. He thumbs at your clit, pushing you over the edge as an orgasm spreads across your body.
"Minho 'm cumming!" You scream.
"That's it, cum for me baby, cum all over my cock." Minho groans in response. God, he really did love you.
Pulsing warmth spreads from your cunt, drowning you in waves of pleasure as your vision whites out at the edges.
You couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh as Minho plopped down next to you. Once again you were buried in his arms, both of you a mess as he ran a hand down your shoulder.
"Min?"
"Hmm?"
"Were- were you really jealous of Hyunjin?" You asked him, a cheeky smile decorating your face.
Minho stayed silent for a minute before answering. "It's childish of me, but yeah I-I was."
Silence filled the room, as you relaxed into Minho's hold and he did the same thing, neither of you willing to say anything.
"Baby?" Minho spoke up at last, to which you hummed in response.
"I really do love you you know that right?"
His words brought shock to your mind, but you simultaneously felt a wave of relief wash over you.
"I love you too Min."
"A date tomorrow then?"
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Hard on Myself
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Pairing: EddiexFemReader
Summary: This was a request
Can you make another rockstar!eddie where they just had a baby and the reader goes to one of his shows with the baby to see her daddy and she gets dressed up but reader still has a bit of post partum body and the fan girls see it and shame on her and reader declines eddies touches and works out and later eddie finds out and she breaks down and they make love? :)
18+ only
“Hey, I just got Cadence down to sleep,” Eddie murmured in your ear as he slid up behind you in the hotel room, his hands holding onto your arms. “We should take advantage of the alone time.” Those hands slid down your arms and the minute they touched your waist you shot away from him, like a firework jetting off into the sky. 
“Actually, I was going to go workout,” you offered with a strained smile. 
You had brought the baby to Eddie’s show three nights ago, wanting to surprise him. Stella, Gareth’s girlfriend, had stayed with the baby on the tour bus while you watched the concert. You didn’t want to subject your ten week old’s ears to the deafening music. You had been so excited, putting on a red dress that Eddie had always loved on you. It had been a little tighter than usual and yeah, you had a little pooch in your middle and you had to wear a good bra because breastfeeding was not doing anything great for your boobs, but you’d just had a baby. You decided to wear it anyway, wanting to look perfect for your husband. 
But then the comments began, fangirls all around noticing you, knowing exactly who you were. Considering Rolling Stone had done a feature on the band and their families, with you and Eddie right on the cover, it didn’t surprise you that they recognized you as his wife. What did surprise you was what you heard them saying. You could still hear the razor sharp digs at you now. 
“How long does she think she’s going to keep him around if she doesn’t lose that baby weight?”
“Ugh…how has he not left her yet? She’s delusional if she thinks he’s sticking around.”
“She looks like a whale in that dress. Why would she even think she should wear that?”
“Oh my god, why does she still look pregnant? Didn’t she have that baby weeks ago?”
“Ladies, we need to get backstage. If that’s what he’s coming home to, Eddie will jump at the chance to be with a girl who actually takes care of herself. He deserves so much hotter than lard-ass over there.”
“Damn, has she ever met a donut she didn’t eat?”
Tears stung your eyes but you swallowed hard, forcing them back, refusing to cry in front of Eddie. You couldn’t let him see how much those remarks had hurt. You didn’t want him to feel bad. You had signed on for this life. You had agreed to stick by him as she sought out his rockstar dreams and now that it was happening, you couldn’t do anything to ruin it for him. 
But you couldn’t help wondering if they were right. You knew you should work out, but it was so hard when you barely felt human anymore. Cadence was perfect, but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a solid night’s sleep. Your brain felt foggy, everything coated in a mist that made it difficult to know where you were or what you were supposed to be doing at the moment. You were exhausted all the time. You barely had the energy to shower, let alone work out. 
“Sweetheart, didn’t you already work out this morning?” asked Eddie. 
“Yeah, but I feel like getting another one in and the hotel gym is so nice. I don’t have time to do this back home when it’s just me and it feels good. I mean, Cadence is twelve weeks old. I should be getting this baby weight off. The doctor gave me the all clear.”
Eddie stepped into you, resting his hands on his hips, his eyes moving up and down your body, “I don’t see anything that needs fixing. You look perfect.” Those soft, brown eyes searched yours, as if he could see into your mind, what you were thinking. “And princess, if this matters to you, then I will support you but I’m also worried. You worked out three times yesterday and now you’re talking about a second time today. You just had a baby. Don’t overdo it.”
Sighing, you backed away from him, holding your hands in front of you, “Eddie, I’m fine. The doctor said working out was fine. It’s been twelve weeks since I had her. You’re acting like I just gave birth yesterday.”
“I’m not saying you just gave birth yesterday but you’re a brand new mom. Cut yourself some slack. It just seems like you’re suddenly a bit obsessive about working out. I don’t want to find you passed out in the hotel gym.”
“Jesus, Eddie, just let it go. I’m not going to pass out in the gym. Just watch our daughter, something you never have to do since you’re out being a rockstar. I just want a little goddamn time to myself, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”
Eddie’s head reared back in shock, those eyes flashing instantly from soft and warm to hard and disbelieving, “You signed up for this life. You told me you were okay with this when we decided to go for it. I can’t help it that we’re on tour right now. I offered to hire you a nanny to help. I planned more days off in between so I could be home. I suggested the two of you just come on the road with us because you know I hate being away from you.”
“Yeah, because that’s realistic. Let’s take a baby across the country in a bus. Come off it!” you yelled. You knew you weren’t being fair. You knew you were being a bitch but you couldn’t help it. All the hormones, the lack of sleep, the sheer exhaustion in your body, the words of those spiteful girls…it was all catching up to you and he happened to be in your line of sight. “I did sign up for this but it’s fucking hard. You’re not around and you’d think when you are, you could let me have just a little bit of me time! Is that really too much to ask?”
“Baby, I’m not saying that, but why don’t you actually take some time to relax? You could run yourself a bath or go sit by the pool and read a book? I will take care of Cadence all day if you need me to. I miss her. I would love to spend the day with her.”
“I am sure you would love it if I left you alone all day. Then you wouldn’t have to look at me and how disgusting I am now that I’ve bore your fucking child,” you snapped, hearing him yell your name as you charged out of the hotel room and down to the gym. 
____________________________________________________________
The next morning, you were making your way back to your hotel room from the gym again. You had gone twice more yesterday, ignoring Eddie in the process, not wanting to face the reality of what was happening to your marriage, the things you said. It had taken every ounce of your energy to get through your workout and you had grown irrationally angry when your legs shook so bad you couldn’t even do a squat. How out of shape were you? Your body couldn’t even handle the workouts. 
You had showered at the gym, trying to delay the inevitable, knowing Eddie would be awake when you returned. You stood in front of the mirror after your shower, scrutinizing every inch of your body, disgusted with yourself. How had you allowed yourself to get like this? Those girls were right. If Eddie saw you naked now, he’d be repulsed with you. You grabbed the rolls of skin around your middle, pinching them until it hurt, as if you could just pull them off and make them vanish. Tears of revulsion, self-loathing, and despair trailed down your cheeks as you took in the faint stretch marks around your stomach and thighs, the dark circles under your hairs, the wan appearance of the skin on your face. You hated yourself. You hated this body. You were going to lose your husband to someone thinner and prettier than you, someone who did yoga every day and spent hours primping until everything was perfect. You didn’t have time to be perfect. You were too busy trying to figure out how to keep a tiny human alive and happy.
Finally, knowing you couldn’t put it off any longer, you had decided to face the inevitable. Eddie was going to leave you. He would find a replacement for you. And could you blame him? You saw the girls who threw themselves at him night after night. Of course it was only a matter of time…how long could he resist temptation when you were what he had to come home to?
Using your keycard, you opened the hotel door, the soft sound of your husband singing greeting your ears. You dropped your workout bag and peered around the corner to find him swaying in the sitting area, singing sweetly to your daughter. You recognized it. It was ‘All My Love’ by Led Zeppelin, the first song Eddie had danced with you to, out by Lover’s Lake. Just the two of you underneath the moon, those strong arms feeling like the safest place in the world. It was in that moment that you knew he was the only thing you ever wanted in life, that you would do anything to hold onto him forever.
Your heart broke watching him. You knew he adored your daughter. Cadence was his whole world. He would call before shows and ask you to put the phone to her ear so he could talk to her, terrified she would forget the sound of her dad’s voice. Even if he left you, he would never leave her, but that didn’t make the agony any less. 
“Hey, there you are,” he whispered as he caught sight of you standing there. 
Walking over to the bassinet, he gently laid Cadence down. Moving to you, he took your hands in his, gesturing with his head to follow him into the bedroom. You swallowed the hard knot of emotion that was strangling you and followed him. Eddie sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. Your body tensed, everything in your wanting to run, to flee what was coming, but you fought against it, joining him, your eyes focused on the floor. 
“Princess, what is going on?” he asked, his hand covering yours, that calloused thumb gently running along your skin. In spite of yourself, your body immediately responded to his touch, your tense muscles relaxing. “You are obsessively working out and I can’t figure out if it’s because you want to or it’s a way to avoid me.”
“I’m not…” you began, but you knew it was a lie. You were avoiding him because you were terrified of what was going to happen. If you weren’t with him, he couldn’t tell you he was leaving you. “I don’t know. Maybe I am avoiding you.”
“But why?” he urged. “Sweetheart, I’ve missed you so much. I hate being away from you and Cadence. I understand your reasoning for not bringing her on tour, but if we’re only going to be able to have a few days every few weeks, then we should be making the most of our time together. All I want is to curl up with you and her and soak in every single second so it can hopefully be enough to get me to the next time. I don’t know why you don’t want that. Are you…baby, are you unhappy with me?”
“No! I love you!” you exclaimed, shaking your head. You couldn’t do it anymore. Your head dropped forward as your body shook with sobs, all of the ugly things you’d feared, you’d been told, you’d been telling yourself just crashing down on you. 
“Oh princess,” Eddie breathed, gathering you in his arms. 
He laid back, gently guiding you with him and just held onto you as your entire body released everything that you had been caging, as the dam you’d built broke and the exhaustion, grief, and fear just came flowing out in torrents of pain. You gripped his shirt in your hands, soaking the fabric with your tears, relishing the comfort only he could ever provide you. 
“Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on, please?” he implored, his fingers tenderly kneading the flesh of your back. “I hate seeing you like this. Let me help you.”
“I…I…” you gasped. Pausing, you took slow, small breaths to try to calm yourself so you could speak. “Girls at your show, they were saying stuff. How long did I think I could keep you? What was I doing wearing that dress when I looked like a whale? Why did I still look pregnant? Why wasn’t I taking care of myself? I just…”
“What?” Eddie’s head jerked back, his eyes gazing into yours with genuine shock. “Fuck those girls. Who the hell do they think they are talking about my wife, talking about anyone, that way?”
“But it’s true!” you argued, pulling out of his embrace and sitting up. “Look at me! I can’t compare to all those groupies that hang around with their toned stomachs, tight asses, and tits that actually sit where they should without a bra. I’m a goddamn mess! I wanted to work out because…I don’t know. I wanted to be good enough for you, sexy enough for you…so you wouldn’t leave me for one of them.”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie crooned, sitting up next to you. His thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, turning your face to his. “I am not going anywhere, ever. I love you. You. And yes, I think you’re beautiful and gorgeous and so damn sexy, but it’s so much bigger than that. What we have is so much deeper than that. You don’t have to do a fucking thing to be good enough for me. You’re more than enough. In fact, you’re too damn good for me. I sit back every day and wonder how I got to be the lucky bastard you chose.”
Tears pooled in your eyes again at his words as you took in this beautiful man who had your whole heart and had since junior year of high school. All these years later, and he still had the ability to take your breath away, to cause you to lose your train of thought, to completely knock you off your feet. He had no idea how goddamn perfect he was. 
“I love you, princess, just you,” he whispered, his hand cradling your cheek, his lips so close you could feel the warmth of his breath passing over your skin. “I am never going anywhere.”
Then his lips were on yours, soft and warm, sending shocks of pleasure straight through you. His tongue slid along your lips, parting them so he could explore your mouth. You released a quiet whimper, fingers tangling in his hair, your entire body recognizing him, remembering how much it enjoyed the feel of his mouth and hands. 
You gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Your hands roamed along the familiar territory of his skin; his chest, his stomach; that little line of hair that led temptingly to what you desired most. You ran your fingers up his back, across his shoulder blades, relishing every single inch of him that you’d missed so much these last months. His fingers grabbed your shirt and shocked you back to reality. Your hands shot out, covering his and pulling them back.
“What?” he asked, pausing the kiss to look at you, concern apparent in that lovely face. “What’s wrong?”
“N…nothing,” you managed, shaking your head. 
Eddie’s head tilted slightly and you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe you. He stood from the bed, taking your hand and pulling you up. Those eyes bore into yours, ensuring you everything would be okay as he reached for your shirt again. You fought the urge to stop him as he slowly pulled it over your head. Turning you around, he pressed his chest to your back so you were both facing the floor to ceiling mirror in the bedroom. You cringed, closing your eyes at the sight, attempting to cover your midriff with your arms. 
“No, don’t do that,” he whispered in your ear, his hands covering yours and gently pulling them away. “Open your eyes, princess. Trust me.” Uncertainly, you obeyed, opening your eyes, but keeping them on him. “Look at yourself. You are a goddamn goddess and this stomach…” His hands splayed over your skin and you glanced at the mirror, meeting his eyes in it. “This stomach is beautiful. It grew our daughter. It nourished and protected her for nine months. It gave me Cadence. There is not a single part of you that isn’t absolutely perfect to me.”
“Eddie, but I'm not…” 
“Shh,” Eddie soothed, cutting you off. His tongue darted out, slipping along the side of your neck and you gasped, heading falling back against him. “Let me worship you like the goddess you are.”
His lips pressed against the skin of your neck, your shoulder. When his teeth joined in, nibbling the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, you thought your legs would give out from under you. His fingers expertly released the clasp of your bra and it guided it down your arms until it fell to the floor. As his mouth continued torturing you with nips, licks, and kisses, his hands cupped your breasts, not squeezing, just holding them, being tender in knowing how sore they could be from breastfeeding. 
“You are gorgeous,” he whispered, his hand sliding down your stomach, slipping under your sweats and panties. A low groan fell from his lips when his fingers found your heat. “Fuck. You’re already so wet. I’ve missed you…I’ve missed this, so fucking much.”
He moved around to the front of you, guiding you back on the bed so your legs were dangling off the side. His hands pulled your sweats and panties off in one smooth movement and he threw them across the room. Kneeling down in front of you, he hitched your legs over his shoulders, putting you on full display for him. 
“I love you,” he growled, lips pressing along your inner thighs. “I love every goddamn inch of this body. I am going to show you just how much.”
Then his tongue ran through your folds, from your entrance to your clit and back again. You keened, back arching at the contact, the touch your body had been craving for weeks. Eddie’s hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as he expertly worked his tongue over you. Fuck, the things this man could do. It was like your body had forgotten, had fallen into a deep coma, and suddenly with one touch it was brought to life again. 
“Eddie…shit…” you panted, all concerns about your body and how it looked vanished from your mind as he sent you skyrocketing to the edge of oblivion. “Oh baby, yes…right there. Oh fuck, don’t stop.”
“Didn’t plan on it, princess,” he growled as you gripped his hair tightly in your fingers, grinding yourself against his face. He moaned against you and the feeling of it sent shockwaves of pleasure through you. 
Just when you thought this moment couldn’t be any better, Eddie plunged two fingers into you, adeptly twisting them so they instantly hit that pleasure button within you. Fingers grasping the sheets, you screeched, arching up off the bed. 
“Shh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, lapping circles around your clit, “don’t want to ruin our fun by waking up Cadence.”
You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. Fuck, it was so hard to control your volume when he was so expertly sending you towards orgasm. You felt it coming as your stomach knotted, your legs quivered, muscles tensing. You tightened your thighs around his head, biting down on your knuckles as your hips rocked against him desperately. 
“That’s it sweetheart. Let it all go. You deserve this,” he urged, before sucking your clit between his lips like it was a hard candy. 
Your eyes rolled into your head as you bit down so hard on your knuckles that you broke the skin, pathetic whimpers and moans releasing from your body, sounds you couldn’t even describe if you tried. A half squeak, half shriek exploded from you as your orgasm came crashing like a tidal wave. You gripped Eddie’s hair with one hand, holding his face against you as you rode it out. 
Slowly coming down, he pressed a kiss to your center that had you whimpering before those lips began tracing along every inch of your body, not a single bit of skin left untouched. He kissed the tops of your feet, your skins, your knees, your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, your neck, before finally making his way back to your lips. You were a gasping, writhing mess beneath him, his mouth already setting a new fire ablaze in you before the first had completely extinguished.
“Goddamn, you are exquisite,” he said, running the back of his hand along your cheek. “You are so fucking perfect.” His arms wrapped around you, flipping you both so you were on top of him. “I want you to ride me, princess. I want to watch you, every single inch of you.”
“Eddie…” you began to protest but he pressed his finger against your lips, raising his eyebrows. 
“Uh-uh,” he insisted, shaking his head. “No more negative talk about yourself. No more mean thoughts about yourself. You are a knockout. You are strong. You are bad-ass. You are a mother. You are perfect and you are mine. I love every single inch of you and I want to see every single inch of you. Get out of your head and just be here with me, princess.”
You swallowed hard, nodding. You could do this. You wanted to do this. You wanted to let it all go, all the toxic shit that had been poisoning your mind and heart, and just be with him. Undoing his pants, Eddie lifted his hips, and you helped him pull them off. You placed one knee on either side of his hips as he held his cock in his hand and guided it within you. You lowered your hips until they were flush against his and you both groaned at the feel of him buried within you, something you’d both been craving for too damn long. 
“Jesus,” he hissed, his hands resting on your hips. “I’ve missed being inside you. You were fucking made for me, do you know that?”
You nodded, slowly rocking your hips forward and backward, causing him to hit that delicious spot all over again. You bit your lip, reminding yourself that you had to control your volume, something the two of you had never had to worry about before. Eddie’s hands slid up, gripping the sides of your waist and you paused, but only for a moment, before continuing to move against him. He loved you. He wanted you. You had to stop obsessing and just be in the moment with this beautiful man, this man you adored more than anything on this planet, Cadence excluded of course.
Your head fell back, hair draping down your back as you lost yourself in the sensation of the two of you becoming one, the two of you connected in a way you hadn’t been in too long. This right here, this had always been perfection with Eddie. You’d heard other girls talk about how the sex fizzled out, wasn’t as exciting, but seven years later, nothing about her desire for him had languished, it had only intensified. Seeing him as a father had just made him even more sexy. Seeing how much he loved your daughter was the greatest aphrodisiac. It had only been medical necessity and then your own insecurities that had hindered it, but right now, you were remembering all of the reasons you needed to let it go. You begin moving your hips in a circular motion and Eddie gasped at the new sensation.
“Fuck baby, that’s so good,” he murmured, eyes devouring you. One of his hands glided along your stomach, in between your breasts, resting on your throat. “You look like goddamn Sune right now, goddess of love and light…just fucking gorgeous.”
If you weren’t lost in the throes of pleasure, you would have laughed. Of course he would compare you to a DnD character. Damn, you loved that the nerd you fell in love with was still in there. He hadn’t lost himself to the fame and celebrity that came with his rockstar lifestyle. At his core, he was still just your Eddie. 
“Come here,” he urged, hands wrapping around you and pulling you down to his chest, crushing you against him as close as he could. He began to thrust his hips upward and you bit down on the flesh of his shoulder to keep from screaming in pleasure. He growled against your ear, one hand cradling your head, the other around your back. “Fuck baby, I am so close.”
“Me too…I…Eddie!” you screamed, gripping his shoulders for dear life as he plunged into you again and again, your orgasm shuddering through you. As your walls pulled tightly around him, he wasn’t long to follow, gripping you to him as he held himself within you, filling you with his release. 
You felt when his muscles relaxed, his body going slack beneath you. Eddie continued to hold you to him, moaning softly with gratification as he kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips. You looked up to see him looking at you, a sleep, satisfied smile on his lips. Your hand came up to rest on his cheek as you tucked yourself against him, burrowing into your own personal safe space.
“Jesus…” he muttered with a low chuckle. “That was goddamn amazing. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you,” you stated, kissing his chest. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so distant during this trip. I’ve missed you so damn much and I feel like I’ve wasted our time together.”
“So, don’t go,” Eddie insisted. “What’s the rush? You can stay as long as you want.” You opened your mouth but he stopped you. “Look, I know the road is not a normal life for a baby. I’m aware of that. I get all your reasons but we’re not normal, sweetheart. We’re far from it. We have plenty of people on this tour to help. I miss you and Cadence so much. When you’re not with me, there’s just this hole…I’m not complete when you’re not here. I’m not happy. I’m not myself. Everyone notices it. Just, promise me you’ll think about it, okay?”
“There’s nothing to think about,” you said and his face fell, all hope vanishing instantly. Reaching out, you took his face in his hands, bringing his eyes back to yours. “There’s nothing to think about because I was already going to say that I think we should try it. I miss you too. I am miserable without you and Cadence needs her daddy. I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to this and I am willing to give it a try.”
Eddie’s entire face lit up, those sweet simple appearing in his cheeks, his eyes like melted chocolate, so soft and warm as he pressed his lips to yours for a deep, gentle kiss.
“Yeah? You’re going to come on the road with me?”
“Baby, I would go anywhere with you. You’re my home, not some walls and a roof, just you,” you replied. 
“You have no idea how happy you…”
You were cut off as the sound of Cadence’s cries shattered the quiet of the hotel room. Sighing, you went to get up but Eddie stopped you, gently pushing you back to the bed.
“I’ve got her. There’s still bottles you pumped in the fridge. You get some sleep.” Leaning over, he kissed your forehead. “Let me do my job. And hey, I have to thank my daughter. At least she let her dad finish before interrupting.”
You laughed, burrowing down in the bed as you watched him pull on some sweats and head out of the room. This was going to be good. Everything was going to be okay. You knew if anyone could make this work, it was the two of you.
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chaoswarfare · 1 year
Text
Over This Whole ‘School’ Thing
Dick leans on the railing of the school building's roof as he watches the building the deal’s about to go down in. It’s an abnormally quiet night, which is great, since it’s the first night he’s getting to take Danny out on patrol with him since he joined the bat clan.
It was pretty obvious that Danny had suspected them of being the bat clan the moment Masters dropped him on their porch, and finally getting confirmation that he was in the know and actually wanted to help was probably the best thing of Dick’s year.
Now, waiting on the Joker’s goons to show up for a deal, he’s glad he’s getting the chance to hang out with his newest brother(excepting Oracle on the comms, of course.). It was almost relaxing just sitting together on a quiet stakeout, and listening to the noises of Gotham and the occasional siren wailing in the distance.
“You know, I never actually liked school.”
Dick jumps when Danny finally starts a conversation. He’s been very quiet the entire time and it was almost startling how quickly he moved from dead silence to noise. It was almost a surprise that he decided to start a conversation at all, given how quiet he’d been since coming to the manor. Alfred is probably the only one he talks with regularly, now that he thinks about it.
“How so?” Dick asks hesitantly. God knows that he had a pretty rough time in school too, so he may not be the best person to talk with about the subject. “I thought Masters said your schooling was just fine? Your records didn’t say anything either.” Dick trails off a bit when Danny flinches at the mention of Masters. It’s not the first time he’s acted hesitant about the man, but nobody has been able to figure out the mystery or get any information about him yet.
“I wasn’t exactly popular, you know? Lotta bullies in small town schools, and my life outside school kinda kept bleeding over into class time. Sucked hardcore.”
That was new. Danny hasn’t really talked about his school experience before now, but it could be where they are at the moment prompting this, Dick thinks as he gazes out over the run-down neighborhood they’re watching.
“I wasn’t exactly ‘mister popular’ back then, myself.” He starts warily, smothering his words in fake cheer. “High society kids don’t take well to ‘circus freaks’ stealing their opportunities and invading their school. Couldn’t do much about it either because I didn’t want to tell Bruce I was struggling.” Dick drops a bit of the over-the-top peppy mask as he thinks about it.
“So what did you do about it?” Danny leans over, peering at the older vigilante as he waits for an answer.
“Got tired of it and beat them up after a couple months. They gossiped about it for months and refused to talk to me for a while. It was pretty sweet, actually.” He sighs in contentment at the memory. “Bruce and Alfred were pretty disappointed in me though. Practically grounded me for weeks.”
Dick preened as Danny let out a chuckle.
“Man, I wished my parents cared that much about my education. ‘A Fenton always gets A’s. Or in your Dad’s case B-‘s.’ was something Mom always said.” Danny seems to droop as he thinks of his parents. It’s obvious something happened there, but he’d usually shut down immediately if anyone brought them up.
“On top of the ‘out of school’ activities taking over my life, this dickhead named Dash made it his personal mission to ruin my day every time we interacted.” Dick busts out laughing as Danny considers what he said, before freezing and slapping his hands over his face. “Ancients, I didn't even think of that- sorry Dick. He was definitely an asshat though. Real piece of work, that one!” Danny chirped mock-cheerfully. “Did you know that if you’re really flexible you can fit in a half size locker?”
Dick freezes at the sudden question. “Uh… No?” He replies warily. The idea of someone being inside a locker that small physically pained him, and he really didn’t want to think about why Danny would know that.
Why anyone would shove his little brother into a locker.
He pushed the fear and guilt boiling in his gut down and turned to Danny with a smile. “How would you feel about online classes?”
Danny whips his head around to stare at Dick like he grew a second head. “Online?” He asks tentatively, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
“Online.” Dick agrees quietly.
Danny stares out over the dreary scenery and the sun just starting to shine light over the edge of the horizon. ‘The only time you can see it through the smog’ Dick muses as Danny thinks about his offer.
“I think I would like online school. It might help.” Danny admits in a quiet voice, hands gripping the railing almost painfully tight(For a second Dick thought he saw the metal give a big, but that must have been a trick of the light. Danny’s blood tests didn’t have the meta gene.). “And thank you… For offering to do that for me I mean.” Danny mumbles.
“Of course! What are older siblings for!” Dick beams at him, only faltering a little at the well concealed hurt in Danny’s face. It was pretty obvious that he was just about to shut down the conversation completely, when the batcom went off. Perfect timing.
Dick waves the com in Danny’s direction. “Looks like our clown friend got picked up across town on his way here.” Danny glances up in confusion as Dick hops off the railing he had been sitting on. “You want to race back?”
Danny visibly perked up as he hopped over the railing and pulled his grapple out of his belt pocket. He smirked Devilishly and took off before Dick could even hop over the railing.
“Get back here! I never said start!” Dick yelled out after Danny as they sped across the rooftop and swung between buildings chasing each other back to the cave.
Back home.
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Text
It became an odd habit.
“Will you accompany me, Harry?”
Harry was well past the point of complaining. Whenever Riddle appeared out of nowhere and knocked on his door, there was little he could say or do to get him to leave.
“Oh, do I have a choice this time?”
He didn’t laugh, per se, but the slight tilt of Riddle’s head and the suspicious gleam in his eyes were as loud as one. He held out his hand, palm up, in answer.
Harry refused the offer with a shake of his head and sighed, “Lead the way, I guess.”
They never apparated to the same place twice. Their surroundings were always unfamiliar and remote and never inspired much confidence in the possibility of Harry returning home safely. But he always did. Riddle made sure of that.
Sometimes Harry wondered if this was his weird way of letting off steam, as though their time together somehow relaxed and revitalised him. It was an insane thought, but the fact remained that Riddle would show up tense and barely controlled and one careless word away from a fight, and he would leave loose-limbed and satisfied. Usually at the expense of Harry. 
This time was no different. Riddle’s fist was white-knuckle tight, and the location was a drab and dreary abandoned manor of some kind. Walls of crumbling stone and floorboards rotted nearly through, making each step taken a delicate dance. The dust in the air was enough to make Harry cough once or twice; the building had clearly been neglected for a long while.
“What is it today,” Harry asked. “Another potion? More rune work? If you try to teach me a dead language again, I will kick you in the shin and finally make good on my threats of moving to a different country.”
Riddle glanced back over his shoulder and raised a single brow. “Do you truly think distance will stop me?” He asked.
No. Harry didn’t even think being universes apart would stop Riddle.
Still, he scoffed and said, “Creep.”
Riddle simply smiled. “I will not subject myself to that again. You are surprisingly ungrateful for having the honour to learn from a being as powerful as I.”
Harry wanted to roll his eyes, “Yeah. So sorry for not appreciating everything you do for me. Oh, wait—I never asked.”
Riddle hummed, not agreeingly. Never agreeingly. “We will be attempting a discipline you’ve shown great promise in but one we’ve never indulged upon.” 
For the life of him, Harry couldn’t think of a single thing in which he showed great promise. He also couldn’t think of a time when Riddle didn’t indulge whenever he damn well pleased. “As vague as ever today,” Harry prodded. “Don’t hold back; share with the class.”
Riddle stopped so suddenly that Harry almost ran straight into him. With a careless wave of his hand, the double doors to their left opened.
And inside was a pristine duelling arena. 
Harry’s mouth parted, but he couldn’t find the words. This was damn impressive. 
The stone walls were just as decrepit here as they were throughout the manor, but their ruin spoke of wide-cast spellfire and magic dark enough to leave its mark. Of a frazzled mind with enough wherewithal to make it to the duelling room but not enough to cast a protective barrier. It had ample light from shattered windows, but not a single shard of glass could be found across the decorative tiled floor, its pattern still polished to a dull shine.
They walked in - or, rather, Riddle walked in, and Harry followed behind him, content in his rapture. He wouldn’t truly ever get used to wizarding homes and their larger-than-life rooms. Harry would have been none the wiser passing by those double doors; they didn’t look nearly grand enough to hide such a gorgeous arena. But that was magic, he supposed.
It was clear they’d stopped. Harry wasn’t sure how long it had been with as taken as he was by the stage next, admiring its long dark floorboards that came together in a sort of v pattern that repeated. Harry was so hung up on trying to remember the name of it (Houndstooth? Plaid? No, it was something with a C-) that he hadn’t realised just how close Riddle had gotten.
He felt a chill travel up his throat before he processed the movement. Riddle’s hand was just beneath his chin, ice-cold fingers a hair’s breadth away from Harry’s skin. With a muted gasp, he froze and locked eyes with him, which wasn’t very hard to do. Riddle’s were already fixated on him. 
Their silence was thick enough to suffocate. 
Riddle curled his fingers into his palm slowly and brought his hand to hover just before the round of Harry’s face. He could sense that creeping cold reaching out again with the phantom feeling of Riddle’s knuckles pulling a slow line down his cheek, stopping at the corner of his lips. Riddle moved back then and gestured at them, “Close your mouth, or you’ll catch flies, Harry.”
His teeth made an audible click, the sound making Harry wince when it echoed in the hollow space. To save himself from further embarrassment, he grimaced and blessed Riddle with one of his rarely used meaner smiles, “Come that close to me again, and I’ll bite that finger off.”
Riddle pulled back even slower and tilted his head to the side. He raked his gaze over Harry’s face, down his body, and on his pass back up, he shrugged and said, “Now, now. That’s no way to handle your disputes, is it?”
Like a static shock, Harry finally realised what was happening. 
All that anger brewing like a potion in his gut dissipated. His shoulders fell - he wasn’t sure when they’d hiked so far up in the first place - and he huffed out a laugh. “I know what you’re doing,” Harry said.
Riddle looked at him with all the innocence of a Nundu. “Oh? Am I doing something, Harry?” He asked.
Harry breathed through the kindling trying to catch a new spark. “You know what you’re doing,” he started backing away. Riddle’s eyes followed him keenly as his steps took him up the middle of the duelling stage and back down to the other side. He wasn’t running away, just trying to get some distance. “You always know what you’re doing. And I am not falling for it—you won’t manipulate me into this.”
“Surely I’ve no understanding of what you’re implying.” Riddle’s polished shoes tap-tap-tapped their way right after Harry, but he stopped on the stage. He looked down on him from above. “But if I did,” Riddle continued, “I’d tell you you’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
Harry shook his head, this man… “You can’t be serious?”
Riddle folded his hands behind his back. His smile was sharp. “When have I ever been anything but?” He asked, and Harry scoffed. 
He wavered for a moment, maybe two, and finally climbed back up the steps to the duelling stage. Riddle, the asshole, looked far too pleased. He turned to face Harry, and they were so close that he only had to look down ever so slightly.
They hadn’t been this close in a long, long time. It was just Harry’s luck that it was happening twice in one day. Fourth Year came to mind as the last time Harry was forced into this proximity. Forced because, unlike now, he hadn’t ever chosen to be in Riddle’s space. Or company. Or attention. 
They stood in silence. Riddle’s grin grew teeth with each passing second. Harry knew what he wanted, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to instigate it—invite it any more than he already was. 
Then, Harry heard an echo of words, a lost encounter in the back of his memories. It pulled a smile on his lips, smaller than Riddle’s but no less there. “A wizard’s duel, then?” Harry teased. “Wands only — no contact?”
At the sight of Harry’s smile and the sound of his teasing, Riddle’s face fell flat. His eyes narrowed. “Your focus should be here, Harry.” He paused and said, “We wouldn’t want you to get hurt because of some minor distraction. Would we?”
Harry smiled a little wider, “Jealous? How very like you.”
Riddle sneered, “Do not speak of me as though I am predictable.”
Now Harry gave in to the temptation to roll his eyes. They, unfortunately, knew each other very well. Riddle was the most predictable person Harry had ever met, and he knew it—if only because Harry was the most predictable person he had ever met. 
“Fine,” Harry conceded. “Ten paces, right?” He turned to begin his count, but Riddle stopped him by the scruff of his shirt. 
Non too gently, he yanked Harry back. Cold breath puffed against his ear in semblance of a laugh. “And we bow, Harry,” Riddle murmured, causing a wave of shivers down Harry’s spine. 
Harry glared over his shoulder and spat, “Make me.”
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enha-doodles · 23 days
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THAT ASSHOLE ✧⁺。
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Pairing : Tom riddle x fem!reader
Synopsis : you and Tom are academic rivals and hate each other , but is it your fault when that competitive asshole cannot handle one loss and seeks for revenge which leaves you in detention
Warnings : cursing , normal fighting ? Not proofread I'm sorry 😭
Note : my first ever Harry potter fic sksksk , I'm very excited for this one . This is also my first fic after like a year ? And I've improved a lot so I hope you guys like it <33
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In the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the echoes of centuries-old spells mingle with the whispers of ambitious young wizards, I stormed down the corridor, my footsteps echoing with determination. Clutched tightly in ny hand was the parchment that bore the results of the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts examination—a subject I prided myself on excelling in , but surprisingly this time I didn't get the highest grade , though i already have an idea who got excellent score - that asshole .
As I rounded the corner, my path intersected with none other than Tom Riddle , the brooding Slytherin prodigy whose mere presence seemed to cast a shadow over my ambitions. His dark eyes flickered with a smugness that ignited a spark of anger within me , knowing all too well that he had likely aced the exam and overstepped me .
"You're in the damn way, Riddle," i spat, my voice laced with disdain as i attempted to sidestep him. But Tom, ever the opportunist, blocked my path with a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, (L/N), always using such unladylike words , maybe thats one of the reason why you seem to be below than me ," he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I clenched my jaw, refusing to let him see how much his words affected me . "Unlike some , I actually don't care what people say and while we talk about my academic pursuits , it'd be better if you keep your insignificant opinion to yourself ," i retorted, my tone laced with venom. Our rivalry was legendary within the walls of Hogwarts, a constant clash of intellects and egos that fueled their disdain for one another.
With a sarcastic smile, I pushed past Tom, my resolve steeling against the inevitable confrontation that awaited the both of us in the days to come. For as long as we remained academic rivals, our mutual hatred would burn as brightly as the flames of Gryffindor and Slytherin.
Tom's voice echoed in the long and ominous hallway making me stop at my tracks . "Maybe you should work on yourself instead of just trying to prove your worth , which I may insist would be nothing less than my broom" That arrogant jerk . Thankfully there were almost no students around since it was time for another lesson . I could feel my rage burning , running through my veins as i stormed towards him and grabbed him by the collar of his stupidly perfect robe "You better learn to shut your fucking mouth riddle , I'm no patient woman and I would definitely not hesitate to show you just how much I have in myself , I'll have you fucking grovel at my feet" i seethed but it did not have much impact on Tom since all he did was let out a menacing chuckle "grovel at your feet ? You sure think highly of yourself , don't you ? And why are you mad , I was just being veracious . Perhaps you forgot I'm a prefect and could very happily take points from your pathetic house for the absolute insolence you are performing at the moment"
His word flowed through his thick British accent only making me more mad , they always seemed to cut through my mind and heart , his erudite personality provoking a desire withing me to just stab him with a dagger but I know better than to do foolish things so instead i let my grip loosen as I gave him a sickeningly fake smile , my hands straightening his collar as i whispered "you wouldn't dare riddle , you know I'm a prefect aswell" i continued with sweetness flowing through my words as if it was straight up sugar "I wouldn't mind deducting all of those points you earned in a month , I'll make sure they're gone in a fucking week , you know Dumbledore is on my side" i taunted him as i tightened his tie a bit to which he hissed and glared at me .
It was a known fact that tom was loved by the entire student body along with the professors but Dumbledore? No . he sure saw right through his facade something which I highly appreciate since I find it stupid just how naive people here are that they are fooled by his fake act but to be fair he is quite charmistic with his ways of getting things done in his manner , he just fabricates his personality so fucking well . Oh how I would love to disrupt and absolutely wreck his living . His fame , his knowledge, his charm , his everything , just him overall evokes an enmity within me , an deep seated anger upon how he could gain it all so easily while I work my ass off ? It was just not fair .
I took my hands off as i beamed at him my eyes forming into crescents "farewell riddle , hope you collide into a wall and have a concussion" with that i turned around smiling to myself as i felt a sense complacency wash over me , oh such a beautiful feeling to put him in his place , I'm going to have a good sleep tonight .
As she went away Tom stood there with a clenched jaw and hands formed into fists breathing heavily "that disdainful bitch" . The amount of anger he felt was indescribable at the moment , how could this little girl disrespect him , the future lord of the wizarding world , and go away as if nothing happened? She needs to learn her place and Tom will gladly be the one to do so . "Just you wait little girl , just you wait" he breathed out as he walked away sharply .
。    ✧    ⁺     。
It was now the next morning , I woke up along with hermione as we both freshened up and went at the great hall for breakfast . As we reached there we spotted our usual group - Harry , ron , fred and george . They are all laughing as we took our seats , I sat near Harry as hermione sat near ron . As they started bickering i side eyed Harry as we both quietly exchanged amused glances . To be honest everyone knew they liked each except those two idiots, sometimes I think they know it aswell but they just don't have enough courage to express it . It's honestly so annoying but we still do our best to make them realise their feelings .
I laughed as I heard Harry huff out "here comes the daily fighting , can a guy not have a break" I took a plate as I filled it with some food and continued the conversation "hey a girl needs a break aswell , I'm sure he doens't complain about mionie as much as she eats my ear off about ron" . Harry was about to say something when he suddenly stopped , his mouth open , eyebrows frowned into confusion as he looked somewhere. "What ? What happened?" I asked as I followed his gaze which stopped at the Slytherin table right where tom sat with his insatiable group of arrogant jerks "oh" was all i could say . Harry turned towards me as he asked "did you and Tom have another fight ? He seems to glaring at you since you entered . At first i thought it was just me but umm he's definitely mad"
All my friends knew about our rivalry since I'm mostly pissed off because of him and well let me inform you about an annoying trait of mine - I can't control my anger and cursing . I sighed as i continued eating answering him nonchalanly "I did but he started it , it was just the same I don't know what hit the nerve this time" Harry seemed a bit concerned as he leaned in a bit "just be careful I think he's coming for you this time , it seems as if you really hurt his pride" I let out a chuckle as I looked at tom "oh he can try all he wants but at the end he is the loser" i whispered as i smiled sarcastically at tom who only glared back .
We had finished eating as we stood up , ron and hermione still arguing "gosh ronald you make such gratuitous jokes" hermione complained as they walked forward , me and Harry still walking at a slow pace behind as we continued laughing . Suddenly Tom blocked our path with his annoying friends "well if it isn't the golden pair of our school , i must say you both suit each other perfectly , extremely dumb and pretentious" said his younger brother, mattheo . He is a spitting image of Tom just less cold and more talkative , also a complete manwhore - quite the opposite of Tom . I scoffed as I rolled my eyes "did the snakes loose their way ? You're slithering in the wrong den assholes"
"How amiable , aren't you darling" mattheo said as he stepped forward , a bit too much in my personal space for my liking . Before I can say something Tom interrupted "don't waste your time on trash Mattheo , we have better things to do" his sentence made me furious but i kept a cool face on "oh yeah , like licking snapes boot off for extra points?" My words sure made them offended as they all stepped forward but Harry came in between "if you guys may , we're getting late for class" with that he dragged me away as I flipped Tom off , oh how I loved seeing their pissed off face as I blew them a kiss only adding fuel to their rage .
。    ✧    ⁺     。
During the classes i could feel their burning gaze throwing daggers at my head . They were extremely influencial people maybe i shouldn't have said too much but I'm a gryffindor , it's in my blood . Damn this courage , this will be the reason of my death one day . This is all Tom's fault , he is simply so agitating ugh will be just let me live my life in any sort of peace ? If he's not at my neck all the time then his goons are , so fucking annoying. The classroom fell quite as the professor stepped in with the results of the transfiguration test taken a week ago .
As the professor stood at the front of the classroom, holding the parchment with the test results, the tension in the air was palpable. Every student leaned forward in their seats, anticipation coursing through the room like electricity.
When the professor finally began to announce the results, a hush fell over the classroom, broken only by the rustling of parchment. As my name was called out as the top performer, a ripple of whispers and murmurs swept through the room, followed by a round of applause.
You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the recognition of your hard work and dedication. It was a validation of your efforts, a moment of triumph amidst the daily struggles of academic life at Hogwarts.
But as you basked in the glow of your success, you couldn't ignore the sharp gaze of Tom Riddle fixed upon you from across the room. His expression was inscrutable, but there was a glint of something dangerous in his eyes.
It was no secret that Tom Riddle was ambitious and competitive, always striving to be the best in every endeavor. Your success was undoubtedly a blow to his pride, and you could see the flicker of envy in his demeanor.
As the class continued, you couldn't shake the feeling of being under scrutiny, as if every move you made was being watched and analyzed. It was as though Tom's gaze followed you wherever you went, a constant reminder of the rivalry that simmered between you.
But despite the undercurrent of tension, you refused to let it dampen your spirits. You were determined to savor this moment of victory, to revel in the praise that had been bestowed upon you.
。    ✧    ⁺     。
As Tom Riddle seethed with jealousy over the your academic success , he knew he needed to devise a plan to bring you down. His mind teemed with thoughts of retribution, each one darker than the last.
One evening, as he strolled through the corridors of Hogwarts, an idea struck him like a bolt of lightning. He would orchestrate a situation that would land you in detention, a punishment that would serve as a fitting punishment for their perceived transgressions. It would piss you off but also lower your reputation in front of the professors.
Tom approached his brother, Mattheo, and his friend, Theodore, with a devious plan brewing in his mind. "I need your help," he said, his eyes glinting with malice. "I want to teach that insolent girl a lesson she won't forget."
Mattheo and Theodore exchanged a glance, intrigued by Tom's proposition already knowing who he's talking about . "What do you have in mind?" Mattheo asked, his curiosity piqued.
Tom outlined his plan, explaining how he intended to use Mattheo and Theodore to manipulate your emotions. "We'll have you bump into her and flirt with her," he said with a wicked grin. "But we'll make sure to push her buttons. She won't be able to resist reacting , you know how she is ."
Theodore nodded , eager to assist his friend. "Count me in," he declared, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
。    ✧    ⁺     。
As i navigated the bustling corridors of Hogwarts, lost in thought, i suddenly felt a collision jolt my from my reverie. Startled, i stumbled backward, nearly losing my balance. Looking up, I saw two figures looming over me , their expressions smug and unapologetic.
"Watch where you're going!" I exclaimed, my annoyance evident in my voice as I straightened myself.
Mattheo and Theodore exchanged a glance, barely concealing their amusement. "Apologies, love," Mattheo said with a smirk, his tone dripping with insincerity. "We didn't see you there."
I rolled her eyes, my irritation mounting at their cavalier attitude. "Sure you didn't," I muttered sarcastically, attempting to sidestep their path and continue on my way.
But Mattheo stepped in front of me , blocking my path with an infuriating grin. "Leaving so soon, sweetheart?" he teased, his tone laced with arrogance.
My patience wore thin as I tried to push past him, my frustration evident in my voice. "I have better things to do than entertain you two," i retorted, my annoyance palpable.
However, Mattheo and Theodore seemed undeterred by my dismissal, their egos bruised by my indifference. They exchanged a knowing glance before Theodore leaned in closer, his voice dripping with false charm. "Come on, don't be like that," he cajoled, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from my face.
I recoiled, my patience wearing thin. "Don't touch me," I snapped, swatting his hand away. "I said I'm not interested!"
But Mattheo and Theodore persisted, their egos wounded by my rejection. They exchanged a smirk before Theodore remarked, "Looks like she needs to be taught a lesson, eh, Mattheo?"
With a malicious glint in his eye, Mattheo nodded in agreement. "Oh, I've got just the lesson in mind," he replied, his voice filled with venomous intent as he stepped closer .
And with that, my patience snapped. With a swift punch to Mattheo's jaw, I silenced his arrogant words , I couldn't believe how absolutely disgusting they were.
The commotion attracted the attention of nearby teachers, who hurried over to intervene. Amidst the chaos, I found myself dragged to detention , the teacher's had asked what happened and with the witness of other students around it was proved that I started the fight. I was absolutely furious because I had a reason to do it but I was silenced by "I am utterly disappointed in you (name) I didn't expect this kind of behaviour from you. Detention for 3 days". My mind was reeling with anger - they hadn't even let me explain myself , just great .
。    ✧    ⁺     。
As i stormed into the dimly lit detention room, my eyes immediately locked onto Tom Riddle's figure, sitting calmly at his desk. Without hesitation, i marched over to him, my footsteps echoing with determination.
"What did you do?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the silence of the room. Tom glanced up, his expression unreadable as he met my gaze. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he replied smoothly, his tone betraying no hint of guilt.
My frustration boiled over, my patience wearing thin. "Cut the act, Tom," i snapped, my voice tinged with anger. "You framed me, didn't you?"
A smirk tugged at the corner of Tom's lips, a glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "Perhaps I did," he admitted casually, his gaze never wavering from mine . "But you shouldn't be so careless, (L/N) . You know what they say about stepping on snakes."
The mention of snakes ignited a fire within me , my temper flaring at his veiled threat. Without thinking, I lunged forward, my hand reaching out to grab him by the collar.
"You think you can intimidate me?" I hissed, my voice laced with fury as I pulled him closer. "I won't let you get away with this."
Tom's smirk widened into a sly grin as he met my gaze head-on, unfazed by my display of aggression. "And what do you plan to do about it?" he taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
Before I could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room as the detention supervisor approached, breaking the tension between us . With a final glare, I released my grip on Tom's collar, stepping back to compose myself.
I huffed as I took my seat glaring at the back of his head while he talked smoothly with the professor keeping up with his facade , showing no remorse after framing me and worse threatening me to do more just because i overstepped him in a bloody test . A frustrated sigh left my mouth as he left with a mocking sly grin on his face and all I could do was roll my eyes and curse him "that asshole" .
。    ✧    ⁺     。
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