#sorry not sorry that I can’t stop writing Victor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunniskyies · 5 months

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𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been missing with no trace, run away from Finnick in an effort to protect him. After years of searching, he unexpectedly finds you again 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Finnick Odair x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Talk about the Victor Trade and all that nasty Capitol stuff, cursing, argument 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Angst with a fluffy wee ending („• ֊ •„) 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k 𝐀/𝐍: Writing all this self-loathing in the 2nd person feels like I’m just bullying you I’M SORRY FSFBWEVGJ

At the edge the pulsating beats and vivid neon lights of the club, you sit at the end of the bar, trying to stick to the shadows. The air hums with bassy music, all around you patrons clink glasses and laughter weaves through the crowded space. The bartender, expertly bustling around the various taps and counters, slides a colourful concoction across the polished counter to you.

“Thank you. Who’s it from?” You ask over the loud din, examining the drink. Definitely spiked.

“A man called up, sent it forward to you. A Mr. Harrington-Smythe.” The man says, already wandering off to squeeze money out of a group of tipsy, underaged girls. You sigh to yourself. Mr. Harrington-Smythe, your client for that evening.

You scoff. Of course the pompous git thinks you won’t be able to tell the presence of substances in the drink, the man thinks higher of dog shit on his shoe than he does a woman. You’ve had him before, and this isn’t the first time he’s tried to drug you in advance. In the past, you’ve just pretended to be high so he wouldn’t complain to Snow.

You slide off the stool you are perched on, about to go to the bathroom to tip the vile stuff down the drain, when your eyes catch on someone across the crowded room.

You know he’s staring straight at you, even through the flickering lights and writhing bodies. How could you not, you can basically feel his waves of surprise and anguish rolling over you. There’s something else there too, another emotion that you can’t place, one that makes your stomach churn and your heart skip a beat.

You quickly rip your eyes away from his, setting the cold drink back down on the bar with shaking hands, and then disappearing into the dancefloor. He’s no doubt already walking after you, hopefully you can lose him in the crowd.

Once at the other side of the room, you slip through a side door that will take you up to the roof. You can stay up there for a while, lay low until you have to make your way back down for your appointment. You’re almost through when you realise you’ve made a mistake.

Finnick hadn’t lost sight of you in the crowd like you'd counted on, and now he’s headed straight for you. You’re cornered, with only the roof to go to now. So as quickly as possible, you hurry up the stairs with a pounding heart, behind you you hear that voice you never thought you’d hear again.

“Y/N! Wait, stop. Hang on.” He calls up the stairs, following after you.

You burst into the cold night air, and stumble around looking for a place to hide, but you’ve had a few drinks and are blinded by the raw emotion coursing through you. You haven’t prepared for this! Still reeling, you’re completely caught off guard when Finnick appears in the door after you.

“You don’t have to run away, Y/N. I just want to talk.” He says cautiously, a nervous hand running through his golden curls.

Even after all this time, he still takes your breath away. You wish you could forget knowing every freckle on his body, every scar that dots his skin. You wish you could lock away the memories you have, the knowledge of where he blushes and what he laughs at, the feeling of his warm hands on your hips, your face, your lips…

You must look like a frightened animal, cowering and shivering before the man, because he takes a hasty step back, unwilling to scare you off. Of course he’s still a gentleman to you, even after all you’ve done.

That somehow makes this harder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just can’t let you leave again, not without talking to you. Not when you’re right here.” He says, his voice edged with shock. You can’t blame him, you’re feeling the same exact way, the man you never thought you’d see again standing here before you.

“Finnick,” You say hoarsely. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got an appointment.”

Hurt and anguish flash through those green eyes of his, but it hardens into something more. “So that’s it? That’s all you have to say to me? After all of this? Don’t you realise how much I’ve been worrying about you?” He says incredulously, his voice raised to a cry.

You open your mouth wordlessly. You haven’t planned for this. You haven’t planned for this.

“I have to go. I’ve got an appointment,” Is all you can muster.

Finnick’s eyes widen, shock and anger now all you feel radiating off him and it makes you wince at its abrasive touch.

“Y/N, you’ve been gone for four years! I haven’t seen you in four years! I woke up one day, and you were gone, no warning!” His voice catches, whether it’s from grief or anger, you can’t tell. “The only secret I have been asking from my clients all this time is if they know anything about where you are. Where I can find you again.” He laughs, cold and hard-edged. “Apparently you’ve been moving around a lot.”

You have been, it’s true. You move house every few months, living in small towns across District 4. When you're in the Capitol, you've had your manager scheduling all your appointments on weeks when Finnick wouldn’t be in town, and in establishments where you wouldn’t run the risk of bumping into any of the other Victors.

You take a shaky breath. The shock of seeing Finnick has subsided slightly, and you're managing to formulate full sentences now

“I’m sorry I’ve worried you, Finnick. But I’m not sorry I left,” You croak. The hurt in his gaze is strong, but it doesn’t rival the 4 years worth of dark shadows that sit under his eyes. Has he not been sleeping well since you left?

“You’re not sorry,” He repeats, disbelief rolling each word around in his mouth, trying it out. His face goes stony again.

“Right. Well, who is he then? This guy you’ve left me for?” He’s out of the doorway now, standing just a few feet away. You can just about feel the heat rolling off him. He still runs hot, you whisper to yourself.

“Do you love him? Does he love you?” He steps closer, but not menacingly. He could throw a stone at you and you would still feel safe around him, you think you always will.

“Does he kiss you how I used to?” He murmurs, his voice has gone deep and gravelly.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “There is no guy, Finnick. There’s no one.” You breathe shakily. No matter what, you cannot let him see you cry. You can’t let him think you were wrong about all of this. “There’s only Snow.”

“Snow?” Finnick repeats again. You nod slightly.

“Snow. The Trade. Being a Victor. That’s all there is for me.” You feel the familiar wave of disgust roll over you, but instead of pushing it away, you hold it close. That’s what you do. You coat your mind in these feelings, never wanting to forget what you are. Who you’ve killed, what you’ve done. “It’s destroyed me, Finnick. The only thing left to take away is those I love. So I removed it.” Your voice has gone quiet again. Finnick’s staring at you like you just shot him.

“So that’s why you’ve done this to me? You’re frightened of Snow? Y/N, I’ve never been scared of Snow, I’ve been scared for you. I thought we’d talked about this, that we would face this together! But you've just been trying to deal with this yourself? Y/N that's completely ridiculous, do you hear how ridiculous you sound right now?" He’s shouting now, and even you feel anger stirring in your chest. Why isn’t he getting it?

"But it worked, you’re still safe,” You scowl. "Everyone else is buying it, I don't see the problem."

"Buying it? Y/N there's nothing to buy, you've been completely absent all these years!" Finnick cries, hands once again tearing through his curls.

You scoff. "Whatever, Finnick. I can't do this right now. Just, go back to that stupid party" Push him away. Push him away.

"Stop trying to escape this situation, Y/N. You're still doing it, even now. Running away." He’s gotten even closer, his voice simmering with anger, a scalding quality that leaves painful brands on your heart. Hold it close, you tell yourself.

"No Finnick, I'm not running away. That implies I've got a place to run to. I don't. I have a house in Four, and a room in the Capitol. That's it, that's all they are. Buildings. I don't have a home." You seethe.

Finnick closes the gap between you and grasps your wrist firmly, but not painfully. "You had a home. With me."

Though it makes your heart clench, you pull your wrist from his hold. "So go home. Get married, have kids. Live your life. That's what I wanted for you."

The angry waters in his ocean eyes have sunk into a dull swell. "It doesn't feel like a home anymore. Not without you." Your throat tightens.

"You have to let me go, Finnick,” You whisper. He straightens up fully, taking a step back. His hand is back in his hair, and the way he grasps threatens to pull it out completely.

"I can't! Don't you know how it eats me up inside? The abruptness of it all?" He cries. The dull ripples in his eyes have grown again to a crashing shoreline of emotion, waves of unsaid words finally breaking on the sand.

“If I knew that peck would be our last kiss, I would've never pulled my lips from yours. If I had known that time I held you would be the last, I would've wrapped you up in every bit of myself, show you the enormity I feel for you inside. But there was no closure with you, there was just the end.” His voice is heavy. “I would do anything for you, Dove. Did I not show that? Did I not make it clear?" His voice cracks.

It feels like every breath you’ve ever taken has left your body. "You did,” You murmur thickly.

"But you still left. Was it not enough?" He croaks. "Was I not enough?" Hurt flares in your chest. "You were more than enough, Finnick." Your voice is shaky but resolute. "You were everything."

But Finnick isn’t satisfied. He scoffs.

"If I was your everything, how could you leave me like that? You're my everything too, and I couldn't ever bring myself to do that to you. So one of us is lying, and it sure as hell isn't me." He growls.

He continues, filling the silence left in the wake of his harsh words. "But that's the pathetic thing about me, isn't it? I would still have you even if you didn't love me the same. I would choose you every time, even if you left me again and again. I'd still love you. I still love you."

The knowledge that you made him feel this pain- the feeling you get is indescribable. "You mistake my actions for unloving, Finnick. They come from a place of love.” You choke.

"It fucking felt unloving, Y/N.”

The ache worsens. You make a mental note to tattoo it to your brain later. "I did it for you. You just... don't understand."

"So make me understand, Dove. I used to understand you, at least I thought I did. It kills me to not know what you’re thinking anymore." He sighs, the fight left from his eyes. All that remains is a sheen of… grief.

"What I'm thinking? I’m thinking about how I couldn't live with myself if Snow hurt you to punish me, if he knew how I feel about you. I've spent my whole life loving you, Finnick. And I'll spend the rest of it loving you. I wake every morning to find my lips mourning yours, my heartbeat grieving its other half.” The tears are really threatening to fall now. “But I live with it, live with that debilitating ache in my chest because it would hurt more for you to grow to see me as the monster I am. For us to live together, and to one day know for sure you don't love me. I deserve that ache, a reminder every second I spend apart from your touch that I deserve it, for all I've done."

"So I leave, and I leave, and I leave. Because trust me, Finnick, I am not the one you deserve. A murderer, yes. A Capitol tool, yes. But someone deserving of your affections?" You close your watery eyes and shake your head.

His hands unexpectedly seize your face, sending a shockwave through you. His mouth collides with yours, the kiss that ensues is desperate and fervent, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that rolls through you like a storm. Soon, you're lost in the familiar feeling of his touch and the way he knows your body so well. Your heart races as he traces clumsy fingertips along your spine, his lips remembering the sensitive spot on your mouth that always makes you shiver.

"You claim to know me," He speaks against your lips, fiercely kissing you over and over again. "But you’re blind to anyone’s faults but your own. You forget I am those things too-"

"You’re nothing like me! I killed that boy in the arena!-" Your protest is cut off by another kiss.

"You did what you had to to get yourself back to me. How could I ask for more? I still love you." He murmurs with that smooth voice that makes you melt.

"I'm evil,” You whisper.

He just kisses you again. "So be it. I still love you"

"The Capitol, they've ruined me." You breathe, the wind knocked out of you.

"Then let me pick up the pieces; I still love you,” You see his eyes between bouts of him trailing kisses across your skin. The oceans within them have finally settled for the first time in years.

You’re not fighting him anymore, letting your body move where his hands move you, letting you lips chase his and your breathing sync. He has this unique ability to wipe clean the coating of pain on your heart and mind that you’ve spent 4 years building up with one touch.

“We have appointments.” You murmur to him. He doesn’t stop his exploration of you, too long has he been unable to show his affections.

“Who cares? If we both don’t go, there’s no one for him to hurt. We only have each other.” He replies. You smile softly, relishing his heat and his touch. You were wrong earlier, home isn’t the bed you left that day. It’s him, his touch and his love. Home is where Finnick is, in the space where his lips touch your skin.

"Stay this time." He whispers, so quiet you could’ve lost it in the wind.

"But would you still want me?" You ask. He pulls back at that, eyes syrupy and intently focused on you.

"I can't imagine a universe where I wouldn't want you."

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #finnick odair x reader #hunger games fic #one shot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair #the hunger games #blurb #fanfic #fanfiction

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

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CERU CONGRATS FOR THE 200FICS MILESTONE 💕💞💖💗 you can publish a real book by that length now 😭💕💗💕💗💕 i love your dedication and more success for youu 🥳🥳

for the sentience event~ is it alright to request the Fellow Honest? 🦊✨

Like imagine him successfully turning every NRC student into dolls and hes exporting them to his boss now but hes quite attached to the "magicless student & their freebie cat" doll set so he plans to keep them rather than sell ✨✨ you know as a token for the good work 👍👍

i like to think that fellow thinks back on that time where Yuu were still human and offered to study with them in NRC... even if it wont come true, its a nicer thought to think that they couldve met as classmates and had a normal relationship... instead of this hollow conversation with a doll created out of their body--

@rayroseu IN MY INBOX!!!!!! Thank you oh my goodness-

Yup, writing a full novel is the goal! Working on little something’s here and there mostly ahah- fanfics are fun too, though!

Thank you so much for the well-wishes! Same to you, the Diasonmia family’s dearest portrait painter.

Er disclaimer, I don’t really know much about Fellow Honest. I’m just going to write this based on the general vibe I get of him. Sorry if it’s very out of character!

Sentience presents:

Tethered

Self Aware Fellow Honest x reader

Tw: yandere

Warmth bleeds into your shoulder. The reassuring weight of a hand, patting you carelessly. An affectionate gesture of a friend, truly. Well, until his hand slide down the length of your arm, fingers caressing every curve.

Your skin used to be softer. Warmer, actually. The gentle warmth of the sun’s golden rays. However, now it’s frozen, wrinkled with the etch of wood, jagging through your entire body.

Fellow’s fingers slid into the grooves carved out on your body, tracing them aimlessly. When he lifts his hand, his fingertips were pressed pink, the patterns on your skin imprinted onto his own.

With one fluid motion, he brings them to his lips. Pressing a sweet, tender kiss into them. It’s sort of romantic, the same marks that mar you, carved deep into the pads of his fingers. Almost like those cutesy matching things couples tend to purchase.

Fellow’s sorry he can’t get you any, but this is certainly much more intimate then any hollow plastic trinket, isn’t it?

Shaking his head, Fellow’s arms snake around your waist. Dragging you closer to them, until your hip bumped against his. The ghost of a smirk waltzing across Fellow’s lips, the dastardly smile of a victor, staring down at his spoils of war. A chuckle bubbles out of his chest, dripping with the amusement a child would have, upon finding a new plaything.

There was something cruel about his laugh, a certain quality that would have made your blood run cold.

Of course, that was when you still had blood running through your veins.

Now, there was nothing but wood. Your pulse faltered to a stop, your lifeless eyes staring back at his own. Even your expression melted back into something neutral. A blank slate.

Gently prising your fingers apart, Fellow slides his palm against yours. Gingerly sliding his fingers in between yours, wrapping around the back of your hand firmly. Leaving no room for escape. Although that wouldn’t matter now, right?

It’s not as if a puppet could break off its own strings. Not when those same strings keep it tethered upright. It’s a pity you couldn’t speak in this state, but Fellow doesn’t mind too much.

He can still hear your voice, echoing ever so clearly within his mind. Your pleading voice, as you clutched at his hand with those warm, gentle palms of yours. Begging for him to release your classmates, for him to come with you to Night Raven College.

You were practically on your knees, asking him to let you save him-

If he was being honest, Fellow’s heart skipped a beat then. For a split second, he let himself hope. A fleeting dream, really. Fellow’s already too deep in this darkness of this twisted wonderland to ever dream of being in the light.

This gentle hope had no place in his heart. All it did was really plunge him in deeper despair, really. It hurts him, ever so truly! You wound him deeper then any knife.

So shouldn’t you take responsibility for your actions?

Fellow knows the light isn’t the place for him.

So he’ll just drag you to the depths of hell with him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fellow honest x reader #fellow honest #fellow x reader #fellow #sentience #self aware au #protection potion♦️#THIS IS THE LAST SENTIENCE REQUEST I’LL ANSWER #THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR ACTIVE PARTICIPATION #gods I’m tired

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thedelicatearcher · 27 days

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thedelicatearcher's masterlist

my requests are always open!! if you have any thg character request (blurb, headcanons, one shot, etc), thought or just want to talk about them, my asks are open!! (also i love glee and would write anything about quinn fabray)

sorry if sometimes it takes me a while to respond to my asks, at times my inspiration is a little bit low or uni is killing me, but i will answer them

i looove talking about anything, so pleease don't be afraid to interact with me, i would love to be mutuals :)

THE HUNGER GAMES

Finnick Odair

boyfriend!finnick odair who helps you study for your finals

boyfriend!finnick odair who breaks up with you after seven years together

finnick odair who loves making improvements to your home to make your life easier

finnick odair who loves doting on his partner, but he also loves being doted on back

finnick odair is a sucker for affection from his romantic partner

finnick odair loves knitting and crocheting

finnick odair loves knitting and crocheting with a swiftie gf

finnick odair has a bed full of plushies

finnick odair loves dancing with you on the living room floor

finnick odair x reader who loves animals

modern!finnick odair would be a sucker for romcoms.

modern!finnick odair is a passionate duolingo user

finnick odair and reader going dress shopping

modern!finnick odair loves minions

finnick loves being taken care of when he feels sick

finnick survives the mutt attack but is left with scars

finnick's hair after the rebellion

finnick odair loves showering with his partner

boyfriend!finnick odair and classic maritime romance

modern!finnick odair considers himself a fashion connoisseur

young!finnick had a lemonade stand

finnick odair has nightmares

poet!finnick odair who can’t stop writing about you

boyfriend!finnick odair calls you cupcake

finnick odair loves gifting you flowers with symbolism

finnick odair doesn't want to wear his retainer

modern!finnick odair loves fearless

finnick odair with a musical gf hc

painting finnick's nails

finnick odair fluff alphabet (coming soon!)

finnick odair and what happens after he exposes president snow in mockingjay (coming soon) (requested)

finnick odair with his tattoed gf (coming soon) (requested)

finnick odair and reader who dyes their hair (coming soon) (requested)

finnick odair with a rockstar gf (coming soon) (requested)

Katniss Everdeen

young!katniss everdeen x hyper fem!reader

modern!katniss everdeen loves garfield

Johanna Mason

johanna mason x reader after the rebellion (coming soon!!) (requested)

Peeta Mellark

nothing (yet!)

Haymitch Abernathy

haymitch learning to braid your hair (coming soon!!) (requested)

Everlark

everlark falls in love in every universe.

katniss and peeta move out of the victor's village after the rebellion

modern!everlark as swifties

modern!everlark and minecraft

roadtrips with everlark (coming soon!) (requested)

General Headcanons/Blurbs

THG characters and the ttpd songs i think would be their favorites only based on vibes and delusion (i made it before it came out lol)

THG characters and their favorite animated character

THG characters and their favorite animated character (TBOSAS edition)

modern!finnick odair and modern!peeta mellark love water parks

GLEE

Quinn Fabray

quinn fabray loves snoopy

#english is my second language so my english may be a little clunky sometimes but i try my best lol #the hunger games #thg #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x reader #johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #everlark #headcanons #glee #quinn fabray #quinn fabray x reader

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lvvesick · 3 months

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I love ur writing sm ur such a queen! Could u do young Finnick with another young victor who’s also from four? Like maybe they’re at a Capitol party or smth and they just pretext eachother cause capitol people=not hot not cool.

Tysm ur such a queen my literal love 🫶

Ahh ty so much and sure! 🩷🫶

Capitol Party- Finnick Odair x reader

This ends kinda abrupt but I didn’t know how to finish it..I also don’t really know how to write Finnick so it’s probably ooc so sorry

I wrote this at like 2am

Summary: You go to a Capitol party with him.

Wc: 365

————————————————————

Finnick despised the Capitol parties.

He despised the ridiculous outfits and the flashy decorations, but most of all, the people- acting overly nice, as if they were friends. Sugarcoating everything.

You knew it from the way he followed you around and barely spoke to anyone else, simply nodding and going along with whatever conversation you were having with the people there. He did, however, not drop his usual playfulness and teasing, often dropping in a joke and some of his charm.

But you saw the glances he snuck at you, and the way he moved to stand closer to you protectively whenever you would speak to somebody, the hint of jealousy in his eyes.

After you had gotten stuck talking to one of the Capitol residents for a while and they kept talking and talking, you could feel yourself losing your attention and not listening, just nodding along with everything they said, but you were pulled back to reality by the feeling of a hand loosely around your waist, trying to tug you away.

“Excuse us, we should go.”

His voice filled your ears as he quickly pulled you away from the conversation, his hand dropping back down to his side as he guided you through the crowded room, bustling with the Capitol people.

“What are you doing?”

You found yourself asking him, having to raise your voice to be heard over the sounds of people chatting and music, your shock showing in your voice at the way he had just pulled you away like that.

“Getting you out of more ridiculous conversations with the Capitol residents. Do you really want to be stuck talking with that kind for the next couple of hours?”

He asked in his usual playful tone, and you went quiet and shook your head, causing him to grin as he led you through all the people, looking back at you every so often to make sure you were still there as he pulled you along.

You sighed as he finally stopped, and you looked around nervously to make sure nobody was trying to come and talk to you two again.

“I can’t take having another conversation with these people. They’re all so naïve.”

“Then don’t.”

He replied teasingly, and his arms found his way to your shoulders as he leaned down slightly to whisper into your ear, his breath brushing against your hair and making you shiver.

“We can just talk.”

“About what?”

You had began to ask, but he cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, making you tense up in shock as he pulled away again and grinned playfully.

“Shh.”

#the hunger games #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick the hunger games #thg #thg x reader #thg fic #!not proofread!

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rmd-writes · 1 month

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thanks @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21 for the tags 💖

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

This chaotic passage from (Un)professional Services, the Tarlos professional services AU I wrote with @welcometololaland (really this entire scene, but this passage demonstrates the vibe well - I don’t think of myself as a funny writer, so I’m proud of this scene!):

TK is surprised that Carlos hasn’t simply walked away from this chaos – and from him – at this point.

“I’m taking Carlos to my room,” he announces, taking Carlos’ hand. “C’mon, this way.”

“Do you still have an open door policy for TK?” he can hear his dad ask his mom behind them.

“No, Owen, TK is almost 30 so I don’t make him leave his door open if he has someone in there. Sweetie, there’s a whole box of those condoms from the office in—”

TK stops. “Oh my god! I’m not having sex with Carlos!”

Everyone looks at him in shock.

“Right now,” he amends.

I don’t write much angst, but I broke my heart writing baby TK in Precious Love (actually, I broke my heart writing most of this fic)

“You and I will still live here. But your dad won’t.”

TK doesn’t understand. Why doesn’t Dad want to live with him anymore? Is it because he leaves his Lego on the floor?

“Dad?” TK blinks. His eyes feel hot and itchy and his heart is beating really fast.

“I’m sorry, TK. Your mom is right. It’s better for us if I don’t live here anymore, but I promise that I still love you. It’s just going to be better this way.”

“But I want you to live here. With us! I promise I’ll be quiet when you sleep and won’t wake you up. And I promise to pick up my Lego. And I won’t leave my shoes in the doorway. And—” TK sniffs and rubs at his eyes with the back of his fist.

“Tyler, honey, it’s not anything you’ve done,” his mom says. Her voice sounds wobbly.

“Mommy, tell him not to go!” he cries.

From despite it all:

TK only breaks the kiss when his lungs are aching for air, resting their foreheads together. He peppers gentle kisses across Carlos’ jaw and down his neck, following a familiar path, using each kiss to write his love into his boyfriend’s skin, as if doing so will etch it there permanently, indelibly; a tattoo to match the mark Carlos has left on TK’s entire state of existence. Carlos cups his cheek as he looks up at him and the sheer fondness of his gaze has TK’s heart twisting in his chest as he stares back up at Carlos and wonders if he can’t just stay on his knees forever.

also this first kiss from yours for the afternoon:

The first press of their lips together is gentle, almost chaste, but Alex slips his other hand around Henry’s back pulling him closer and Henry finds the soft dip of Alex’s waist inside his open coat, and when they kiss again, Alex parts his lips for him. He tastes sweet from the dessert but there’s something more, something unique to Alex that Henry wants to chase. He deepens the kiss, tangling his fingers in the curls at the base of Alex’s neck, losing himself in the slide of their tongues together and the press of Alex’s teeth as he tugs on Henry’s lower lip. When Henry pulls Alex closer so that there’s no space between them, kissing him thoroughly, as if there’s nothing more he needs in that moment than Alex and the feel of his mouth against his own, Alex makes a noise in the back of his throat that Henry swallows greedily. They part, breathless; minutes or hours later, Henry doesn’t know and frankly, he doesn’t care, all he can think about is the fact that he wants to do that again and never stop.

He rests his forehead against Alex’s. “Hi,” he says on an exhale.

I’m so so proud of to the victor, the spoils (and its prequel). I can’t share my favourite passages from those fics without spoiling them, so I’ll give you this exchange with my beloved Bri instead:

Brianna has a coffee waiting for him when he arrives. “You’re a gem, Bri, what would I do without you?”

“Flounder aimlessly for a bit and then die a slow, uncaffeinated death probably.”

“That’s dark,” he says, taking a long sip of his coffee.

“So, did you get the win?” she asks, looking over Alex with a quizzical expression on her face.

“Of course I fucking did, Fox should have listened to me and withdrawn his application. I don’t know why he insisted on running it, he’s infuriating. The entire application was a waste of time.”

“Mmhmm,” Bri cocks her head and raises an eyebrow at him.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the tie you were wearing this morning, Alex. Looks kind of boring to me,” Bri smirks at him and walks out of his office.

Alex looks down. Fuck. He’s been wearing Henry’s tie.

(iykyk)

This is one of the first times I read my own writing and thought, “I really love this”, from it’s just for snow:

When David stops talking, his voice is scratchy; he feels flayed from the inside out. He’s never bared so much of himself to anyone before, not like this. He prefers to only let people see the broadest brushes of himself, to keep them at a distance that won’t allow them to see the individual brushstrokes that make up David Rose. He doesn’t know why, but talking to Patrick in the dark, from the safety of his cocoon of blankets – it feels safe – Patrick feels safe.

I’m also very proud of my The Grindr Toolbox: A Guide to Getting Nailed series, which features a fic from each of my fandoms, written for the same prompt.

Tagging some pals to share what they’re proud of too: @welcometololaland @kiwiana-writes @indestructibleheart @stereopticons @indomitable-love @strandnreyes @everwitch-magiks + an open tag for anyone else who wants to share 💖

#fic pride friday #rmd writes #rmd writes: ls #rmd writes: rwrb #rmd writes: sc

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masterofmunson · 2 years

Text

promises, promises (5)

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, accuses you of cheating on him due to your strange behavior. If only you could tell him you were hunting interdimensional monsters instead.

Word Count: 5.8k+

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT SMUT (oral m receiving, fingering, praise kink, choking kink (not really, his hand just rests on her throat), gagging, dacryphilia, slight soft!dom!eddie if you squint hard enough), MINORS DNI I MEAN IT, language, mentions of death, violence, think that’s it but if there’s more that I haven’t mentioned, let me know!

Author’s Note: Here she is! Please let me know what you think. I mentioned it earlier, but this story will now be seven parts instead of six. As always, comments/reblogs/asks are very much encouraged and appreciated xoxo

“I was worried you were going to listen to Jason and hurt me, you know,” you confessed to Lucas the next morning.

You spent the night in Nancy’s basement with Steve, Dustin, and Max while Robin slept in Nancy’s bedroom. You watched Max throughout the night, watching her for two-hour increments before it was one of the boys’ turns. You don’t remember if she slept.

While you switched off on Max Watch, you attempted to comb through all the documents from The Watcher that Nancy and Robin gathered from the library yesterday about Victor Creel. You were looking for a needle in a haystack. The amount of questions the four of you gathered was enough to overwhelm you and stop for the rest of night.

Lucas turned to look at you and hurt flashes across his face. Despite the years between you, you had always been close, and like Max, he would come to you for relationship advice. You never took sides when they fought and ran to you. You talked them through their issues and helped them come together, but that was before Billy died.

Max had broken up with Lucas after Starcourt, and it devastated Lucas far more than all the other times they broke up. It felt permanent, lasting, and all you could do was offer a shoulder to lean on since Max wouldn’t return your calls.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said, glancing down at his toes. “I didn’t think that Jason would actually go on a manhunt for Eddie. I should’ve stopped him. I’m sorry.”

You smile softly at the young teen and gently nudge him with your shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m glad you decided to leave the Dark Side. Eddie will be thrilled.”

Lucas laughed and shook his head. “You sound just like him.”

Silence falls over the basement as your eyes flicker towards the corner Max had been held up in for the last hour. With her headphones on, she writes furiously at the small desk. The soft sound of Kate Bush spills into the basement. The four of you can’t help but stare at her backside. The thought that Max may be gone sometime today terrifies you.

The door to the basement opens and Nancy and Robin hurry down the stairs with a series of files in hand. Nancy takes the seat beside you and hands you a red folder. Opening it, a sheet of paper spills out with your name on it with a handful of extra-curricular activities and honors you did in high school with a few embellishments.

“What’s this?” you asked, holding up the folder in front of the group before passing it on to the kids to look at.

“Our way to get in to see Victor Creel. We have an interview with the director, and hopefully we can persuade him to let us speak to Victor,” Nancy said. “Did you find anything useful in the articles?”

You shook your head and Nancy noticeably deflates. There was nothing you could do until you actually spoke to Victor. You hope he could provide the answers you needed to help Max and stop Vecna from hurting anyone else. Steve bickers with Nancy and Robin as they climb up the basement stairs to the main floor.

“Can I talk to you?” Max murmured, shifting awkwardly on her toes.

You nod and stand up from your spot on the couch. Opening the basement door, you step outside and Max follows behind, walking towards a corner of the house so Dustin and Lucas couldn’t see. Max sighs and thrusts out her hand, an envelope between her fingers.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking it from her and flipping it so the flap of the envelope faces you.

“It’s a failsafe if you know… if you know things don’t work out for me.”

“Max—”

“It’s just in case, okay? Please take it. Don’t read it until… until after.”

You sigh and nod begrudgingly, sliding the envelope into the pocket of your windbreaker. Your heart aches for the redhead. You’ll figure something out. You know you will. No one else was going to die at the hands of Vecna if you could help it. Max closes the space between you and launches herself into your arms. You hold her tightly and hug her like your life depends on it. Max’s tears are muffled into your jacket and you gently card your fingers through her hair. You hug her until she pulls away and wipes the tears off her cheeks.

You don’t say anything. What is there to say to someone who knows that they may die today? Instead, you throw an arm over her shoulder and walk back into the basement. The letter weighing in your jacket.

….

The hour that it took to change, get ready, and drive to Pennhurst Asylum went by quickly. With you in the passenger seat, Nancy driving, and Robin babbling away in the back, you went over the series of questions you wanted to ask.

By the time you arrived, you exhausted all the questions, and anxiously waited for the director of the asylum to take you into his office. Robin’s foot shook anxiously and you reached across to hold her hand. Your heart beats wildly against your chest and the iron grip Robin has on your hand makes your fingers sweaty.

When Director Hatch opens the door, the three of you stand up and introduce yourselves under your aliases Ruth, Rose, and Rebecca respectively. Taking a seat in front of his desk, Nancy hands him the falsified paperwork the newspaper team cooked up before you left Hawkins. You swallow hard when he mentions your high GPAs. Nancy takes the reigns by talking on behalf of the three of you.

“Would it be possible for us to speak to Victor?” you asked with a gentle smile.

“I’m afraid not,” he answered, lacing his fingers together before resting them on his desk as he looks at you. “There’s a rigorous protocol for those that want to see patients like Victor. You put in a request, then undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

Director Hatch slides your files back towards you and you noticeably deflate under the rejection. You shift uncomfortably in your chair and tug at the turtleneck you’re wearing. An awkward silence falls over the office and you glance at Nancy and Robin. Your ears start to ring as you tune out whatever the director says afterwards.

Suddenly, Robin starts to ramble. Your eyes widen as you and Nancy stare at her. She stands up from her spot beside you and tugs at the top of her blouse anxiously. Robin blubbers about how you had put in multiple requests to meet with Victor and had been denied each time. She tells the director that coming to Pennhurst was a last-ditch effort to save your thesis. You watch Robin lie with incredible ease and how it was her dream to meet the man that ignited her passion for psychology. She pleas with the director that if you were men, you would meet Victor Creel no questions asked.

That seems to do the trick.

Walking out of his office towards the main halls where patients spend their days, he gives you a tour of the grounds. You walk through the gardens of the asylum towards the other side of the grounds. Director Hatch opens the door for you and the three of you walk inside. Nancy makes small talk with the director as you walk through the music room.

“Having the patients listen to meaningful stimuli like their favorite song can help them with treatment,” Hatch stated matter-of-factly. “It helps them come back to earth, so to speak.”

You nod along and follow him out the door from the music room down a series of steps until you’re standing in front of the door that leads to the criminal ward of the asylum. You swallow hard and rub your hands against your skirt. “Would it be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?” you asked.

Dr. Hatch turns away from the door to look at you. “Alone?”

Robin stutters out an explanation, coming to your aid. “I think we would just love the challenge of speaking to Victor without the safety net of an expert like yourself,” she said. “Then we can really rub in to Professor Bradley’s face.”

His brows pinch together. “I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

“Brantley!” Nancy laughed nervously. “She meant to say Brantley.”

Robin stumbles over her words and blames it on her nervous excitement on having the opportunity to speak to Victor Creel. Dr. Hatch nods his head slowly and relents, allowing the three of you the opportunity to speak to him alone. When he starts climbing up the stairs again, you let out a sigh of relief and Robin reaches to squeeze your hand again.

The guard in charge of the criminal ward opens the door and the three of you slowly walk behind him. You feel like your heart is in your throat with how fast it’s racing. The moans and groans of the other inmates fill your ears as you walk down to the end of the wing. The guard wakes Victor with the sound of his baton hitting the metal bars of his cell. It makes you jump in your shoes.

You let out a careful breath as the guard returns to the other end of the long hallway. You glance over at Nancy before you take a tentative step towards the cell. Your fingers gently squeeze the bars.

“Victor?” you whispered gently.

“I told Hatch no reporters!” he barked, slamming his hand on the metal table. The sound of his scratch marks filled your ears.

“We’re not reporters,” Nancy replied. “We came for help… we believe you. Whatever killed your family is back in Hawkins. Our friend will be the next victim if we don’t find out what you did to survive. Can you tell us what happened?”

Victor turns to face you and you bite back the gasp that threatens to escape your throat. Victor’s eyes were gone, instead scars littered his face. Robin reaches for your hand again and squeezes it hard. You felt like you were going to sweat through your blouse.

Victor’s voice fills the air as he tells you the story of what happened to his family leading up until the night they all died. His wife and daughter were plagued with nightmares and visions every night. There were dead animals in the yard all the time and there was a lingering, heavy presence over the home. He had tried to exorcise the demon, but it only seemed to anger it more. Victor shares how his wife was the first victim, and when he tried to escape with his kids, he had been sent back into a memory from the war. He heard an angel, and by the time he came to, his son and daughter were gone.

Victor starts to whimper and he crawls back into his bed. You notice that he starts to hum an Ella Fitzgerald song under his breath. Your heart aches for the trauma Victor’s had to endure over the last 30 years. He plead not guilty by reason of insanity, and he wasn’t even crazy. It’s only when a bunch of teenagers come and ask is when he’s believed.

The door to the criminal ward opens and Dr. Hatch comes storming down the hall with two guards behind him.

Shit, you cursed. You hoped you could sneak out afterwards, and now you were fucked. Trailing behind the director with Nancy and Robin at your side, you whisper under your breath. “Remember how Dr. Hatch said that music helps bring patients back to reality? Victor was humming a song earlier, he said he heard a voice of an angel. What if music is the key to saving Max?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Robin muttered back.

Nancy glances over her shoulder to look back at the guards. “I think we can out-run them to the car.”

Robin starts to shake her head and you nod your head in agreement. You and Nancy take off through the garden. Robin yells after you and runs as fast as her gangly legs can take her. The guards shout after you and you turn the corner to get to the parking lot. Jumping into the back seat, you slam the door shut and Nancy takes off.

“Code red! Code red! Did you find anything useful?! Max is in trouble!” Dustin shouted from the radio.

“Music!” you shouted back, fumbling with the dial. “It’s music. Play her favorite song. It should bring her back from the visions.”

Now you would just have to sit and wait to see if it worked.

The drive back to Hawkins is done in silence. You didn’t know what to say to fill the gaps in the car. You didn’t know if music helped save Max from Vecna. Dustin stopped responding. When Nancy pulls into the driveway, you notice Max sitting on the curb with Lucas’s arms around her.

Clamoring out of the car, you run straight to Max, enveloping her in your arms. She sobs into your chest and clings to your backside. Tears of relief slide down your cheeks and the faint sound of Kate Bush escapes her headphones. You pull back to get a good look at her. Her cheeks are flushed a warm pink and red rims her eyes from crying, but Max is fine. She’s still here.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you muttered, resting your forehead against hers. Max doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She knows she has you and the rest of the group to lean on. Max doesn’t have to hide anymore. She knows that she’s not alone.

You let her go and take a step back, catching your breath. You turn to Steve, asking for your bike from the trunk. He gets it out for you and rolls it up the Wheeler’s driveway. Reentering their home, you change back into your comfy clothes and say goodbye for the night. It was time to go see Eddie.

You say your goodbyes and promise to come back first thing in the morning before leaving the house. Riding down the street, you make a quick pitstop at the general store. You purchase some bread, peanut butter, jelly, and chips to feed your boyfriend. You also buy a gallon of water, a toothbrush for you, and Irish Spring soap for Eddie.

Carefully setting the paper bag into the basket attached to your bike, you ride the four miles it takes to get to Lover’s Lake from the center of town. Turning down the road, you carefully dismount your bike and store it in the boatshed when you arrive at Reefer Rick’s house.

Walking up the small hill to the house with the bag in your hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside. “Eddie?” you whispered loudly in the dark. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you scared me,” Eddie said from his hiding spot near the master bedroom. You let out a sigh of relief and stumble around the room until the light from the bedroom illuminates your features. Eddie grins and takes the bag from you, setting it on the bed before securing you in his arms. “I missed you. I was starting to worry about you when I hadn’t heard from you today,” he mumbled into your temple. “Is everything okay?”

Your fingers claw at his backside as you breathe him in. You have to remind yourself that Eddie’s here, that Eddie’s safe. The reminder that Max could’ve died today had you been just a second slower haunts you. You can’t help the sobs that escape your throat as you cry into Eddie’s chest.

Eddie carefully guides you to the bed, the food in the bag long forgotten. Eddie whispers sweet nothings into your ear and runs his fingers up and down your back as you cry. Your tears dampen his shirt, but he doesn’t mind.

When the tears subside enough to let you catch your breath, you pull away so that your eyes meet his. Eddie’s warm smile makes your heart summer-sault and he holds the side of your face gently. His thumbs brush away the last of your tears and he leans down just enough to press a soft kiss to your nose, and then to your lips.

Your fingers cling to the Iron Maiden t-shirt you brought just the day before and you wince as the scabs on your knuckles start to tear open. Eddie pulls away and looks at you with concern. “What? What is it? Did I hurt you?” he asked.

You shake your head at him. “No. My knuckles are just sore from punching Jason in the face yesterday. I’m okay.”

Eddie’s grin is blinding at your answer and he carefully takes your hand in his, brushing his fingers over the inflamed skin on your knuckles. You tense when he hits a sore spot and Eddie whispers a soft apology. He brings your bruised hand up to his lips and kisses the tender flesh.

“I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence,” he teased against your skin. The smirk on Eddie’s face as he stares at you makes your skin flush with heat from the tips of your toes to the top of your spine. “What would my uncle say if he found out my girlfriend punched the Jason Carver in the face?”

“I imagine he would tell you to get on your knees and have you ask me to marry you,” you retorted with a grin. “Or he would give me a high five. You can decide, baby.”

Eddie’s soft laughter fills the space inside the bedroom and he gently lets go of your hand in favor of holding your waist. His nose brushes against yours before he dips down and captures your mouth in his. The kiss sets your stomach ablaze.

Your eyes flutter close and your mouth opens just enough so that Eddie can slip his tongue inside. You moan against his lips and cling on to his t-shirt again. Eddie grins wolfishly and gently presses you into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively and the feeling of Eddie’s hand resting against your throat makes your stomach tingle.

“Are you,” kiss, “going to,” kiss, “tell me,” kiss, “why you were,” kiss, “crying?” he muttered against your greedy mouth.

You swallow hard and card your fingers through his hair. “That depends. If I say no, will you still kiss me?”

Eddie pulls away and you groan in protest, reaching for him. Eddie leans back on his thighs and stares down at you expectantly. His hands run up and down your sides as he waits for an explanation. You sigh loudly and reach to trace the outline of his Master of Puppets tattoo on the inside of his arm.

Your bottom lip trembles as you recall the day. You told him about the letter Max wrote you and the circumstances at which point you were allowed to read it. Eddie knew that you were relatively close to the gaggle of freshmen he subsequently adopted into Hellfire Club, but he hadn’t realized the extent of it. You explained where you went today and that you had the opportunity to speak with Victor Creel.

“It was just… so sad, Eds,” you cried into your hands as he listened to you. “He’s spent the last 30 years mourning the loss of his family and the whole world thinks he killed them. You can tell how much he loved them. He still wears his wedding ring. I just… I wish there was a way we could help him… get him out of Pennhurst so that he can live the remaining years of his life as a free man.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, pulling your hands away from your face and bringing them up to his lips to kiss, “my sweet, bleeding heart. I’m sorry. I wish I could be more helpful. I hate seeing you like this. It kills me.”

You shrug and push on. Eddie lays down with his back against the headboard and pulls you between his legs. His hands slip underneath your t-shirt and rest on your stomach as you share the rest of the day. Max comes up again, and this time you don’t try to hide the trembling and fear in your voice. You confess to Eddie how scared you were on the drive back from the asylum, wondering if Max was still alive. You tell him about the relief you felt when you saw her at the Wheelers home.

When you’re done recounting the day, it feels as if the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders. Being able to share the ins and outs of something you’ve kept a secret with the man you love is liberating. It’s freed you from lying to Eddie any longer.

The tears come to a slow stop and you hold on to Eddie like your life depends on it. Your soft sniffles fill the room and Eddie kisses along your neck to the side of your head, coaxing you to take deep breaths.

Eddie climbs out of bed and reaches for the bag on the floor. He empties it and grabs the food. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to go make us sandwiches,” he whispered before kissing you.

You take the time away from Eddie to collect yourself and take a speedy shower. When you step back into the room in just your t-shirt and undies, Eddie’s waiting for you on the bed, his sandwich untouched.

Returning to bed, you eat in silence until you’re done. Tossing your napkins into the trash beside you, you sink into Eddie’s embrace. Your legs tangle with his between the sheets and Eddie hides his face in your neck. You turn your head just enough so that your eyes meet.

“Is your favorite song still Master of Puppets?” you asked softly, resting a hand on his cheek.

Eddie grins and kisses the inside of your palm and nods. “Sure is,” he confirmed quietly. “Is yours still that cheesy song by Tears for Fears?”

You huff playfully and slap his chest. “Everybody Wants to Rule the World is not cheesy, Eddie. It’s a great song!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he hummed against your skin.

He nips and sucks at your skin and you sigh blissfully, rocking your hips back to meet his.

“Eddie,” you plea, feeling the rough tent of his jeans against your back, “please. Please, Eddie.”

“Are you sure?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, his touch hot and heavy. “We don’t have to.”

“Yes,” you answered. “I want to. Do you?”

He nods against your neck. “It’s all I want. I’ve been thinking about you since the moment I touched between your thighs two days ago.”

Your whines fill the bedroom and Eddie smirks against your skin. His hands slide down your bare legs and squeeze your inner thighs. Eddie’s fingers creep up until they’re palming the center of your panties. He rubs you through the thin cotton and pulls the crotch aside to slip his fingers through. You mewl at his touch and grab at his wrist, feeling Eddie’s rough, calloused fingers gather up your wetness.

Eddie’s skull ring brushes through your folds and his finger plays with your clit. You cry out and dig your head into the pillow, rutting your hips back into Eddie’s. Eddie laughs into your ear and slips a finger into your gaping hole. Your body clenches at the intrusion, still not used to having fingers other than your own inside you. Eddie’s hot groans fill your senses as he slowly pumps his fingers inside of you.

With two fingers now scissoring you open, his thumb pressed against your clit. You moan loudly and feel the creeping pressure of an orgasm approaching between your legs. With Eddie’s free hand, he slides your t-shirt up your chest before your chest is on display for him.

Eddie maneuvers himself so you’re back is against the mattress and you’re underneath him. Eddie’s warm, sweet eyes are dark with desire as he watches you writhe beneath him. His soft smile turns wolfish and his fingers massage your tits before he leans down and captures one of them in his mouth.

You groan and tug on his hair harshly. Eddie moans against your skin and it sends you spiraling. The building pressure between your legs only grows with each thrust of his fingers. His tongue laps at your nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise at the top of your chest. All you can think of in your over-stimulated haze is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You gasp his name.

“Eddie, please, please let me cum. Please!” you blubbered, breathing hard.

“Go ahead, honey,” he mutters against your chest, his eyes meeting your fucked-out gaze.

You release with a cry of his name and your fingers tug his scalp harshly. Eddie moans again as he brings you through your first orgasm of the night. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath and Eddie slowly removes his fingers from in between your thighs, causing you to clench on nothing as they leave you.

Eddie kisses along your hairline and you turn your head so you can look at him. Eddie’s face is a deep pink and sweat gathers at the top of his head. You gingerly brush a finger against his cheek and swallow hard. “Can I… can I take care of you?” you asked bashfully.

He grins, playfully nipping at your finger before leaving a kiss. “Only if you want to.”

“I do. I just… I don’t know how. I haven’t done it before.”

Eddie’s smile only grows at your confession and he brushes a finger against your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ll help you through it. We can stop anytime, okay?”

You nod and quickly change positions with your lover. You eagerly tear Eddie’s shirt from his shoulders and toss it on the floor. Your mouth finds his neck and you bite and nip and the pale skin. Eddie holds you in place with his hands on your hips, squeezing hard when you begin to leave a trail down his body.

You leave hickies along Eddie’s slender chest leading to his happy trail. Your fingers trace the outlines of his tattoos before you shimmy down until you’re eye-level with his crotch. Letting out a careful breath, you slowly undo Eddie’s belt and unzip his pants. Eddie reaches for your chin and forces you to look at him. You swallow hard and kiss the inside of his palm before tugging his jeans, and his boxers, down his waist and off his legs.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight and it makes Eddie chuckle. You remember what he felt like a few days ago and the euphoria you felt when he was inside you. The same feeling returns and it makes you squeeze your thighs shut at the thought of Eddie’s warm, thick cock inside of your aching pussy.

You gently wrap your hand around Eddie, looking up to make sure you’re doing it right. He nods encouragingly and you slowly tug on his cock. Eddie curses and throws his head back and it gives you all the confidence you need to keep going. You thumb at the tip, gathering the pre-cum between your fingers before leaning down and gathering him in your mouth.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he cursed, resisting the urge to fuck your mouth. “You feel so good.”

You tongue at the head and he hits the back of your throat. It makes you gag and Eddie tries to pull away to make sure you’re okay. Your fingers dig in to his bare thighs and slowly begin to bob your head back and forth against his cock. Eddie’s hips rut against your mouth and his fingers settled at the back of your head, guiding you in and out of his cock. Tears spring at the corners of your eyes as you take him deeper inside your mouth. Drool falls down your chin and Eddie moans loudly.

“Need your pussy, baby,” he whined. “If you keep suckin’ me like that, I won’t last.”

He gently pulls your head away from his aching cock and guides you back up his chest. Eddie’s fingers hold your chin and he slots his mouth on yours. He moans at the taste of himself on your tongue and wraps his arms around your middle. He carefully pins you beneath him and grabs your legs, pushing them up against your chest as he tugs your panties off your hips and throwing them on the floor.

“This okay, baby?” he asked, lining himself at your aching hole, teasing between your folds. You nod wordlessly and Eddie tuts at you. “Words, baby. I need you to use your words.”

“Yes!” you cried, clawing at the sheets beneath you. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Good girl,” he hummed and the praise shouts straight to your waiting center. Eddie braces himself against you and teases the tip of his cock at your entrance. He slowly thrusts inside of you, bottoming out with a moan against your ear.

You whine pathetically and claw at his backside. The pressure against your legs at the position you’re in sends tingles down your spine. Eddie’s warm chest pins your knees to your stomach and he slowly rocks back into you, his warm cock pressing against the deepest part of you.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you babbled, too cock-drunk to say anything else other than your lover’s name as he brought his hips back and forth to meet yours. Eddie smirks against your hot skin and turns your face so your mouths meet in a hot and heavy kiss. The kiss is teeth and tongue and it has you aching for more. “More, Eddie. I need more.”

Eddie’s warm laughter slips into your mouth and he pulls away just enough to get a good look at you. He pets at your hair and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re so greedy, baby. Here I am inside you and you’re begging for more. What do you want, honey? Tell me,” he hummed, brushing your hair out of your eyes with his fingers. His eyes darken as he stares down at you, waiting for your answer.

You breathe hard and flush under his intense gaze. You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper, “Can you… can you play with my clit? Or—or you can let me do it?”

Another wolfish grin appears on Eddie’s face and he kisses you hard on the mouth. “Of course, baby. Is that going to help you cum, hmm? You need my fingers and my cock?” Eddie’s skilled fingers slide down your body and press against where you needed him most.

You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed by Eddie’s teasing. You nod pathetically and grab his wrist, holding him in place so he couldn’t pull away. The pressure between your legs grows as Eddie continues to thrust into you and finger your throbbing clit. The sound of skin slapping fills your ears and the stench of sex fills your nose. Eddie noses at your neck and bites into your skin. You cry out and dig your fingers into his back.

Eddie smiles against your hot and sweaty skin, nibbling the shell of your ear. His hot breath fans across your face. “You almost there, honey? I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that,” he whispered as you clenched around him. Eddie curses in your ear.

“Yeah, yeah. Just… just keep doing what you’re doing. You can cum if you can’t hold it,” you sighed against his mouth.

Eddie growls against your lips. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You cum first or you don’t cum at all.”

You cry out at his empty threat and Eddie’s fingers press through your folds and gather your wetness between his fingers. The headboard knocks against the wall with each thrust. Your eyes flutter closed at your release nears and Eddie lays his hand on your throat.

“Open your eyes, princess. I want to see those pretty eyes when you cum.”

Eddie’s words send a shock through your body and you open your eyes. You whine loudly as you stare into his warm brown eyes and cum with a cry of his name. Eddie moans your name and you watch his brows knit together as he released inside you. You sigh in relief and Eddie’s thrusts slow as he coasts through his orgasm. Eddie hides his face in your neck and kisses your throat until he stills inside you. You turn your head and gently card your fingers through his hair. He hums against your skin as you catch your breath.

Eddie gently pulls out of you. You hiss at the sudden emptiness between your legs and watch Eddie scurry to the bathroom. He returns with a warm cloth and gently wipes between your legs before using it on himself. Eddie tosses it on the floor before climbing back into bed and holding you against his chest.

You bask in the warm silence of the room and Eddie’s lips kiss your throat.

“Can I tell you something?” Eddie whispered in your ear.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you replied softly, turning your head so that your eyes meet his.

A faint blush covers his cheeks and his nose brushes against yours. “I wanted to ask you to prom,” he confessed, “y’know… before shit hit the fan and I was accused of murder.”

Your eyes widen at his confession and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles through your throat. “Prom? Eddie, you’ve been a senior three times and haven’t gone to prom once. You wanted to go to prom with me? You hate high school functions.”

Eddie shrugs bashfully. A shy laugh escapes him. “I hadn’t found the right partner. Plus, you even said that you didn’t go to prom when you were still here.”

“My brother got married that weekend,” you recalled, “that’s why I didn’t go.”

“What do you say, hmm? Will you go to prom with me?”

You grin and hold his face between your hands. You press a sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Of course I’ll go to prom with you, Eddie. If we don’t go, who will spike the punch bowl?”

He grins and affectionately squeezes your cheeks together, kissing your puckered lips. Eddie’s warm laughter swallowing you whole.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie x reader #eddie imagines #eddie imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #my writing

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lorata · 5 months

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Sooo... I was reading We Must Be Killers and like. Ok. I totally get it if you have never thought about this because I also wasn't expecting to have this thought. But I gotta ask. If this was taking place in a world where soulmates and soulmarks were A Thing (canon hunger games universe otherwise just w that thrown into the mix) would any of the Victors in the village find themselves with a soulbond? And I’m not referring to just the romantic kind- platonic, romantic, adversarial, etc. all count

OK LISTEN i was going to write a whole Thing for this but i only did the intro and then .................. i stopped, i didn't know where to go from here. so rather than let this sit in limbo here is the introduction

BELOW THE CUT: 400 words of concept that does not actually answer the question, sorry!!!

In the districts they call it the Mark of Death.

In District 2, they understand it for what it is: sacrifice, yes, honour, of course, but also — commitment.

In the districts they call it the Mark of Death.

In District 2, they understand it for what it is: sacrifice, yes, honour, of course, but also — commitment.

Not even the best predictive modelling coming out of District 3 can project the chosen, but District 2 are soldiers first and stoneworkers second. District 2 does not deal in algorithms or data, it deals in people and weaponry and the earth beneath their feet, and they crack the code in their own way. Rather than looking to foretell the future, they work to forge the future themselves. They scout the district, choose its best children — the strong, the angry, the ones whose tempers flare and who can’t quite hide the blood on their knuckles, the ones with finger bruises on their skin and fire burning in their eyes — and take them, train them, winnow them.

In the first decade of the Program, the chosen all come from the top 100 candidates. In the second, 50. By the fifth, they have narrowed it reliably to 5.

It’s not a guarantee, the trainers warn them, so don’t get cocky. Their chosen die every single year, cut down or poisoned or electrified or starving or bleeding just like everybody else. Being chosen doesn’t mean you’ll win. And of course, there are the exceptions even to the choosing. Once a kid with the mark got hit in the temple and died a few days before the Reaping. Twice, one of the unmarked volunteered before the chosen had their chance to speak. And once, most chillingly, the chosen that year was called from the crowd of civilians while those who’d fought and scrapped for their entire childhoods stood in tight-faced silence on the sidelines.

The system is not infallible, and so, now and then, someone tries to get ahead, skip the line — drive a sidelong kick to a frontrunner’s knee, slash out with a hidden knife — see if they can trip fate in their favour. One way or another they realize the same thing all the others do, in time.

Trends, fluctuations, the rare exception, flatten them out and you will find one, single constant. Over the years, as the bodies pile up, the trainees watch, and learn, and grudgingly accept: while never a guarantee, the only mentors and tributes who return with the crown are the ones with matching symbols on their forearms.

#lorata answers #anonymous #we must be killers: tales from district 2 #my writing

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 1 year

Text

[CN] Victor’s Sea-circle Event (Chapter 4)

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for content yet to be released on the global server! ⌚

✧ mum’s smile || little gentleman || art and love || mum’s companionship || endearing thoughts

【Mum’s Companionship】

A journal recording Victor’s growth during the study tour program in France.

What she hid in here is not only memories but also her regrets for not being able to be there to constantly care for him and nag him during the time he was growing up.

[Note: Victor’s mum used to call him “Yan Yan,” which as always, I’ve translated as Vic-Vic~]

—

✧ DATE: 05/21

He safely arrived in France at noon today. Following the teacher’s instructions, I was waiting at the designated meeting point when I saw him getting off the bus with a big bouquet of carnations in his hands. The teacher said that when they were passing by a florist, Vic-Vic requested to stop briefly and wait for him; he then especially picked out those flowers for me. This adorable little gentleman… did he watch some French romantic movies!

—

✧ DATE: 05/21

Vic-Vic’s dad said he packed his luggage all by himself for this trip. And sure enough, Vic-Vic immediately opened his suitcase in the living room after we returned home today. Although this little grown-up didn’t say anything, I knew he was probably trying to attract my attention. So, I thought of teasing him a little and deliberately pretended to not see, going about my business as usual.

But to my surprise, Vic–Vic was extremely patient. He just sat there on the sofa and waited quietly. Before long, I couldn’t resist anymore and succumbed in my heart, promptly making up for it by rewarding him with the recognition he deserved. Vic-Vic took out a certificate from his suitcase and presented it to me, saying that he would bring an even better trophy next time. I knew he was trying to tell me through this gesture that he was studying diligently and growing up well. So I hugged him and told him he was truly amazing. But what I didn’t tell him was– “Actually, you are already outstanding in your mum’s heart, and you don’t need these awards as validation.”

—

✧ DATE: 05/25

We visited a vinyl record store, and I initially thought that at Vic-Vic’s age, he might find this type of music medium too old-fashioned. But he listened attentively to the teacher’s explanations throughout the visit. I asked him if he wanted to buy a vinyl record as a souvenir for himself, and he quickly nodded. Eventually, with the curator’s recommendation, we selected a collection of Miles Davis’ famous tracks.

Sticky Note:

As soon as we got home in the evening, Vic-Vic couldn’t wait to play the vinyl record. I was curious about why he was so interested, and he explained that the unique sound of vinyl records made him feel like he was traveling through time.

—

✧ DATE: 05/31

To my surprise, Vic-Vic helped me secure the tickets to the music concert that I had missed out on earlier through a knowledge quiz.

My son is truly amazing~

—

✧ DATE: 06/05

I still remember the first time I made pudding for Vic-Vic. With a frown on his little face, he peered at the kitchen countertop and asked me in an earnest tone if we needed to hire a professional cleaner to tidy it up? Just the thought of his deadly serious expression makes me somewhat unable to contain my laughter. I wonder if he will ask the same question again when he sees the kitchen in its current state after waking up?

—

✧ DATE: 06/05

…in the blink of an eye, you are already leaving for home today. There are many things Mum doesn’t know how to say to you face-to-face, so I’ll just write them down here silently.

As the person dearest to you, I’m truly sorry that Mum can’t always be by your side and witness you growing up. Seeing how sensible you are, Mum feels gratified, but my heart also aches at the same time. If I had been by your side all the time, perhaps you would have been able to be like the other kids, often acting coquettishly and being stubborn with Mum, wouldn’t you…

Regardless of anything, I hope that one day you will understand that no matter where you are, I will always be blessing you, watching over you, and loving you. And also, remember to smile a lot more. Mum absolutely loves the way that smile lights up your face~

P.S. The teacher said that this record needs to be submitted to the school, but Mum is really unwilling to part with these precious memories and give them to someone else. So I lied to the teacher and told them that I accidentally lost the journal…

After you leave, I’ll secretly hide it away. You can revisit these memories at your own pace when you grow up.

—

✧ next stop: endearing thoughts

—

#DAMMIT PG WHY DID YOU CHOOSE VIOLENCE ON THE 4TH DAY ALREADY ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽#you can see how much impact his mom has on him despite her rare presence. his love for romantic French movies- collecting vinyl records...#the way he still brings her flowers every time he visits. the throwback to how she taught him to make pudding—#and remember how he said that MC resembles him mom strikingly?? you can feel their resemblance through these pages too—#both his mum and MC – “your existence itself is the grandest miracle.” and their quirks too— 😭👊#I JUST— I JUST— ITS ALMOST MIDNIGHT AND IM HERE FLAILING ARMS CLUTCHING MY CHEST ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽#mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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asgardwinter · 2 years

Text

The Divorce (5)

summary | Victor Creel’s house was the description of a haunted house, a true haunted house. Searching for clues you had no idea how they could look like seemed like the most promising line of investigation and it did nothing to make you settle with the anxiety that was building inside. What was it like to be with Vecna’s curse in Vecna’s chosen house?

❊ << Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part >>

pairing | Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

warnings | angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, SEASON 4 SPOILERS (episode 5), tiny bit of fluff, again they’re in love but don’t tell them yet, talks about death (reader), self deprecating talk, Vecna’s Curse, stranger things usual stuff

word count | 4k

author’s note | i’m back with part five!!! (and i figured out there are going to be more than six parts and an epilogue, sorry) i’m also sorry that i’m taking longer to write it because college and work are really taking a turn on me and i’m left with no energy :( i hope you guys like the new chapter! <;33

comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated <3

❊ join the taglist!

You couldn’t sleep for the whole night after you saw the clock.

That fucking clock.

You knew one of the symptoms Max had described you was nightmares — not that you nights were that easy before, specially with the Upside Down problems looming over your shoulder. So it seemed pretty reasonable to just not sleep.

You can’t have nightmares if you’re awake, right?

But it was difficult to run away from Steve’s suspects, he was keeping an eye on you since the graveyard event, since you saw that clock and didn’t tell him. It was just like he was inside your head and wanted you to admit to him things weren’t right.

Because you promised him. Promised he’d be the first to know about any clock you saw.

But you didn’t want to take the focus away from Max and the actual problems. Fuck, you didn’t even had a favourite song to save you, right?

If everything went as planned everything should be solved soon or it wouldn’t be solved at all.

Especially for you.

It had to be about 6am when you were blinking heavily and felt a warm liquid running from your nose.

Your hand was there quickly, preventing it from getting to your mouth or your shirt. With the first rays of sun passing through the basement’s window it was easy to spot the crimson liquid staining your pointer finger. You were up in no time and got to the bathroom, closing the door to avoid any more suspicions.

The cold water cleaned the fresh blood easily, but you still sat down on the ground with your head leaning back to try and stop the bleeding.

Three firm knocks on the door came not too far after you got inside.

“Yeah?” You said in a loud voice without opening your eyes.

“Is everything okay?” Steve’s worried voice echoed inside the bathroom like he was right by your side.

You breathed deeply before answering. “I’m fine!”

“You’re sure?”

You got up and closed the facet right before opening the door to face him. “All good.” Your annoyed tone was enough to make his eyes widen and search for anywhere to look that wasn’t your face.

Standing there in the doorway was a weird place, but you waited for Steve to say anything more or just get out of the way… Damn, the stress was getting a little out of hand. Going against all your expectations, Steve’s eyes locked on you getting more serious every second.

“Look, I know something is wrong.” He started, raising his finger when you already began to defend yourself from the very much right accusations. “I may not be the most intelligent person, but I like to think I still know you. I’m here if you need me.”

His eyes carried a hundred more comfort words you couldn’t make out, just feel. It was overwhelming to say the least, all the goodness in his eyes, everything Steve could make you feel with only a few words. It made you want to spill everything that was inside your head and hide into his arms.

It was unfair, because you weren’t together anymore. Everything should be buried deep down, forgotten and healed but it clearly wasn’t, at least not for you.

You didn’t even know if you wanted to run away or try to find out if it felt the same for him, if his worry was fruit from the unspoken and lingering love you felt or just some mutual respect you developed for the past three days after that first unsettling encounter. Steve chose to follow Nancy after all, right? He was trying to get away from you and the kids but it was already explained… Would he lie to you to hide the fact he was still in love with Nancy Wheeler?

That was not something the Steve you dated would do, so all you could do was hope it was just your paranoia.

You were lost in your thoughts for good seconds to make the situation a bit uncomfortable for Steve that wasn’t aware of your inner monologue.

“I know.” You finally answered, shaking away the slightly sad face. Your hand found his that secured him leaning on the threshold without even thinking, but you needed to hold it. “I know, Stevie. We just have bigger problems now. But… We’ll talk, okay?”

He didn’t look excited by your response but yet nodded his head. His thumb traced small designs in your hand, like Steve didn’t want to let you physically go.

“Hey there, you guys are coming? We need to get going right now!” Dustin shouted from the top of the stairs making the soft atmosphere dissipate very easily.

“Let’s go then.” Steve said, making a gesture for you to go first.

The start of another lovely day to fight some monsters.

…

“Yeah, that's not creepy.” Steve was the first to break the silence as the group faced the abandoned house that once belonged to Victor Creel.

The whole house was sealed with nails and wood clapboards, closing the windows and all the doors to prevent any invasions. Nancy had brought two hammers in the car to help with the whole “getting inside process”.

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve asked as he helped Nancy with the board that covered the front door.

“We're not sure.” She answered him. “We just know this house is important to Vecna.”

“Because Max saw it in Vecna's red soup mind world?” Steve kept trying to rationalize it for some reason.

“Basically.” Nancy was tired of his questioning so she was brief.

“Great.” He mumbled under his breath, changing focus to the task of getting inside the house.

“Maybe it holds a clue to where Vecna is.” Dustin decided to get in the conversation. “Why he's back. Why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for Max.”

“I just think this is the best clue we got till now, right? It’s better than having nothing.” It was your time to mutter, winning the attention of only a few members of the group that were near you.

“We… don't think he's in here, do we?” Lucas asked, a bit unsure.

“Guess we'll find out.” Max responded.

Nancy and Steve quickly let the wood board go and fell to the floor, exposing the stained glass with the figure of a rose right in the center of it.

It was creepy to say the least.

You felt colder than before, the same sensation you got at that moment when you were leaving the graveyard, those goosebumps down your spine that were far from pleasant. There was no voice you could hear but you could almost feel it telling you weren’t supposed to be there or anywhere near it.

“It's locked.” Steve announced the obvious. “Should I knock, see if anybody's home?”

“No need.” Robin shouted with a large brickstone in her hand. “I found a key.”

What a key… The glass shattered very easily with it, taking the bottom half of the rose away with the brick. Steve was the one to get his hand through the opening and open the house from the inside. The door creaked so much it was obvious it had been closed for a long long time.

Lucas tried to turn on the light unsuccessfully. “Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.”

You walked near Dustin and Steve, getting the flashlight you hung on your belt before getting out of the car.

“Where'd everyone get those?” Steve inquired, looking at the flashlights everyone carried like he was left out.

“Do you need to be told everything?” Dustin was as soft as always with his tone. “You're not a child.”

You laughed at the situation, getting their attention. Extending your hands towards Dustin’s backpack, he let you hold it and take an extra flashlight out and hand it to Steve.

“Thank you.” Your ex-boyfriend whispered and you flashed him a smile, leaving Dustin’s bag in the ground so you could get it later when you left the house.

“They just left everything.” Nancy said as she took a look around with Robin.

“I guess a triple homicide isn't good for resale value.” Robin had a point with her snarky comment.

You took a look around by yourself, stopping on your tracks when you saw it.

The grandfather clock, the same as the day before.

Just that this time felt so much more real, the ticking was louder in your head and it looked… in place, like it belonged there.

“Hey, guys?” You could still hear Max while in trance? That was weird. “You all see that, right?”

“Yeah.” Dustin’s voice was there too.

“Yeah.” Steve was the one to make you realize it was real, that the clock was actually inside the house. That it was the inspiration for the one that appeared in your head.

“Yeah.” You muttered weakly, stepping away from it.

“Is this what you saw? In your visions?” Nancy asked Max.

“I mean, it's… just a clock. Right?” Robin said, stepping closer to it, which you clearly wouldn’t advise her to do. The last thing wanted was to touch that thing and make it feel a thousand more times real than it already was. “Like a normal old clock.”

"Everything can be normal until you're seing it in weird places." You mumbled.

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve raised a question. “Maybe he's, like, a clockmaker or something?”

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin’s voice was dripping with irony, making Steve look at him with a slight shade of anger.

“All I know is the answers are here. Somewhere.” Nancy announced dramatically before going down to business. “Okay, everyone stay in groups of two. Or three.” She added before looking at you. “Robin, Y/n, upstairs.”

“Come on. Let's go.” Max got Lucas’ hand and pulled him to follow her out of the room.

You followed the girls up the stairs leaving Steve and Dustin arguing behind you. They decided to go for the main bedroom, it looked like it came straight from a horror movie with everything in place but looking almost ghostly.

“Wow, this bed looks comfortable.” You mocked looking at the silky sheets that had already incorporated all the dust.

“It once was for sure.” Robin said, looking around the room.

The door to the bathroom was slightly closed, so you used your feet to kick it and look at more dust and webs that were starting to worry you and making you feel like the spiders were crawling over your skin and getting under your clothes.

“Hey.” Nancy called you, making you look at her in shock. “Anything over there?”

“Nothing, just a tub with three generations of a family of spiders.”

“Ew!” Robin widened her eyes. “Remember me to stay away from that bathroom.”

You kept looking in silence, Robin making a comment or two just to stop it from getting too uncomfortable — or too scary.

“Hey, Y/n.” Robin called you when you went to look in the same place in one that once was a young girl’s room. “Please be kind to Steve. He… He looks at you in the very same way he did back in July.”

“What?” You looked confused by the way she started the conversation out of the blue.

“He still loves you.” She went right to the point.

“I… To be honest I thought he was going for Nancy after the trailer park stunt and all.” You avoided looking straight at her, devoting all your attention to the cracks in the wall and floorboards.

“No, he spent the whole time we were inside the library complaining about how you didn’t seem shaken to see him.” Your eyes crossed with Robin’s after that revelation, a silent way to ask “What?” just to make sure she wasn’t playing with you. “And I have reason to believe you…”

“Yeah, right.” You went back to your careful examination of the structure of the place. You didn’t want to expose yourself to her, it wasn’t like your talks in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy.

Now she was Steve’s best friend and she wanted what was best for him, you could understand that and it made you happy to know Steve had someone who had his back here.

You hadn’t. And even lost the few who could’ve stayed with the breakup and the departure back in July 1985.

“Just… be kind with him, okay?” She asked one more time.

“I will.” You promised Robin, because you didn’t want to shatter Steve Harrington, it was the last thing you wanted to do. “I care about him way more than I should.”

“I bet he does the same.” Robin granted and she… she couldn’t be more right if you thought about the words that kept echoing through your mind if you let the fear of Vecna go for more than two seconds.

The way you jumped with the noise that came from the hallway made the floorboards creak a bit more intensely. You went quickly out of the room before exchanging worried looks, to check on what the hell was happening in that house. You found Steve and Nancy trying to take a spider out of his hairs, his voice raised a bit with every word.

“If there's a spider, you're never gonna find it till it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” Robin mocked him, exchanging a smug face with her friend.

“What's wrong with you?” Was all he could manage as a response. “Robin, seriously. She's got problems.” Steve mumbled the last part so only you and Nancy could hear.

“Tell me about it.” Nancy added.

“I missed her, though.” You confessed, looking at her walking forward and noticing it was true.

You wanted to go back and just make small talk with her in the backroom of the ice cream shop. And maybe help her with teasing Steve’s antiques with his stupid hat.

“It's cool you two are friends now.” Steve commented to Nancy, she only smiled a bit and went to follow Robin, leaving you alone with him.

“It's not like we're dating.” Steve said out of the blue. “Me and Robin. Not like we're dating.”

“I know, Steve.” You granted it, you just didn’t feel romantic tension between them. Love was there for sure but it was just… friendship.

“She told you? That we're not…?”

“She didn’t need to. You both look like brother and sister by the way you act with each other.” You explained, containing a laugh. “You sure argue like family.”

“It’s just… Robin is so…”

“If you say annoying you’re only going to confirm my theory.”

He laughed at you even if he didn’t want to show joy at you joking at his face. “You didn’t change one bit.”

It was an innocent comment but it sort of hit you hard, like everything you had before the Starcourt Battle was still there and like Steve was still seeing you as the one he loved back there. But you knew the truth, you knew you weren’t the same — there was a reason you two had broken up after all…

But you smiled at him anyway.

“You’re just the same.” He continued, eyes focused on you like they could see your soul. “But you’re still weak, right?” That made you uneasy, it sounded so off for Steve to say something like that, it didn't fit his voice. “You still push everyone away without warning, as I can see. Was it that easy to leave me behind?”

“What? No…Steve…” You tried to speak but the words would come to you, your mind was just a thunderstorm of mixed thoughts you couldn’t separate in any comprehensible form of communication. “I… It hurted so much to let you go.”

“So why did you do it?” He was ruthless to shoot that question right in that moment. “I needed you back there and where were you? You were breaking up with me and moving out of Hawkins.”

“Steve, we both agreed that we couldn’t have stayed together like that. We were no good for each other and…”

“That’s what you wanted to make me believe.” Steve accused you, his index pointing right at your face making you retreat in yourself. “You only wanted the easy way out, right? You were never suited for all the shit we go through in Hawkins, should just stay in the dark like the rest of the city. You just can’t deal with it, am I right?”

The tears flowed down your cheeks and there was no way to stop it, you were shrunken against the wall and Steve’s hands were starting to get weird, bigger fingers and burnt flesh replacing his features, a face without clear skin.

A terrifying face looking right back at you.

Vecna’s face.

“Y/n.” Vecna said your name in that scary slurred voice of his making you want to run as fast as you could even if you didn’t have anywhere to go. “Your time is coming. It’s always easy to use the weak link as a plan B.”

You slipped in the wall to the left to get away from him and close to any door you could find to put between you and Vecna, but you only fell back in the place you were standing before, stepping carelessly to the left because you suddenly lost your balance. If it wasn’t for Steve that was holding your cheeks firmly with his hands — when did that happen? — you wouldn’t be up.

“Oh, thank god! You’re back…” He was going to say some more things but your hand went to his mouth to stop the words from coming out and calling more attention.

“Did you call anyone here?” You asked him with a serious face, but the hurried steps getting closer answered it for you.

“Is everything okay?” Robin was there out of her breath, followed by Nancy and Dustin that were on the same floor.

You breathed deep to keep your act before turning to face them. “I’m good, I just tripped over one of these terrible floorboards and my feet got stuck. But it’s already solved. Steve got a bit too worried about it.”

They looked around to analyze the scene and it was weird. Even with the good act you fought to keep it was hard to believe, Steve’s shouts were too desperate and it didn’t fit with only a fall.

“Yes.” Steve freed his mouth from your hand and confirmed the story without an ounce of plainess. “I was just… on edge.”

They stood there for a few more moments at the door, but there was nothing to say if you guys didn’t want to say anything. It wasn’t like it was a vacation and everyone could go after some gossip, it was literally a mission in a haunted house inside the city everyone had grown up.

The moment they left you let Steve go fully, trying to ground yourself but it was hard when the house was so similar to its darker version you saw in your head.

“It has already happened, right?” Steve didn’t have to wait for the answer to know the truth, everything was already perfectly clear inside his head. “Fuck, Y/n! You promised you’d tell me!”

“I couldn’t, all right? I… I couldn’t take the focus away from Max. I’m the one who needs to keep her safe and not make everyone worry about me.” You continued the argument in the shushed voice.

“When did you see the clock?” His hands were on your shoulders now,keeping you steady and keeping you close. You were afraid Vecna would do his little trick again. “For the first time?”

“Yesterday at the graveyard.”

“I knew it. I fucking knew something was wrong!” Steve was mad, but even with all the madness that was your head at that moment you could see it wasn’t really directed at you. It was directed at him for not pushing it.

“I’m sorry.” And you were being completely honest with him. “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

He took a deep breath before talking. And one more just to make sure. “It doesn’t really matter right now. But I’m not leting you go through this alone and let you just kill yourself. We’re telling the others…”

“No. No!” You cut him, hissing the words because you could hear steps approaching. “I don't want you to tell them. We’re not going to tell them. That’s final!”

“Okay.” Steve said bitterly, looking around like he would find the solution in that old haunted dusty room. “I won’t tell him. But we are going first thing after we go out from here to the trailer park and we’re getting a tape of your favorite record.” You were going to argue but he didn’t let you even start. “There’s no way you are talking me out of this, if you say no I’ll tell everyone the second I see them. You’re walking with that in your pocket now and that’s final.”

It was weird, having him deciding things so seriously like that, so decided to keep you safe. “I care about you way more than I should”, the words echoed through your head bringing you a small comfort to your still racing heart.

“I think he’s changing his modus operandi or something.” You told Steve that looked back at you even more worried if it was even possible. “I only saw the clock once, and now he talked to me? I… I don’t know what he’s trying to do here.”

“He talked to you?” He asked in shock.

“Yeah. Said something about me being a plan B.” You decided to just spill everything to Steve, he already knew the worst part, there was nothing to do about it.

“So Max might be plan A…” He tried to form something but apparently it was way too hard. “We need everyone to analyze the new information, if we just tell Dustin��”

“No.” You were firm in your decision.

“It might help us understand.”

You had no idea why Steve was still trying to reason it with you, but it got somewhere. What if what you were hiding was vital information and it could help solve everything? What if by keeping it you were endangering the kids even more?

“Okay, Steve. We tell them but not right now.” You placed your cards on the table waiting for him to accept it or not. “This is final.”

It wasn’t the best, it wasn’t what he wanted, but if it was all he could get to try to save you he would grab it with everything he had. “Deal.”

You shook hands like you were trading something that wasn’t this life threatening, still touching eachother even when the handshake was supposed to end. His other hand came to the back of your neck to find support, the brown eyes were looking at you with such devotion you only ever saw there.

“Guys! Come here now!” Max shouted, getting you out of the pretty eye’s spell.

“Hm, we need to go.” You said, untangling your hand from his and walking towards the stairs. He followed you closely and you found everyone in the old dining room looking up at a blinking chandelier.

“It's like the Christmas lights.” Nancy said, eyes glued to the orange glow.

“The Christmas lights?” Max asked.

“Yeah, when Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life.” Nancy explained it.

“Vecna's here.” Dustin said. “In this house.”

“Just on the other side.” Lucas added to it.

Steve looked at you preoccupied, the serious expression was still there and it only got stronger with the fact that you now knew that Vecna was sort of there. It was like you were talking through eyes only, his saying “Be more careful” and yours trying to keep him calm while saying “There isn’t really much to do”.

The light blinked even more until they shut down for good.

“I think he just left the room.” Robin said as everybody looked around just as if searching for a ghost.

#asgardwinter writes #series: the divorce #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff

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weirdraccoon · 4 months

Note

Omg writers block sucks! I currently have that rn too and I want to write a HL fix so badly but idek where to begin so I’ve just been sending requests.

Was just wondering if you could do Fig’s reaction to MC getting beaten up in front of Fig, maybe like tortured with crucio too. Fig is being held back and enchanted and can’t fight back or help MC and he has to sit there and watch his surrogate daughter (Gryffindor girl if u wouldn’t mind) getting beaten to a bloody pulp and then cruciod. Reaction during and then like after? U don’t have to write how they would get out of that situation ship, just like what would be Fig’s reaction to MC during the torture/beating and then what would he do after it?

I’m just imagining Fig crying and holding a very bloody MC close to his chest.

Sorry if that’s a lot, I’m currently hyperfixated on HL

sorry for the wait! Yesterday I wasn't feeling up to writing but today I did it!

One short one-shot about MC being tortured in front of Fig.

Consider that the warning, no happy ending, or anything like that. Just a little bit of angst. Enjoy!

They should’ve left sooner.

He should’ve sent George on a wild goose chase.

George should’ve made sure he wasn’t being followed.

He should’ve tossed that box out of the carriage and let it be lost in the world.

But he didn’t.

He let his curiosity get the better of him, allowing Miss Seabaugh to open it once she mentioned she saw the magic surrounding it.

Maybe if she hadn’t opened it.

Or if she hadn’t mentioned the magic…

So many ‘ifs’, so many regrets, and so much at stake.

He was supposed to be her guardian and he failed from the get-go. It was a simple task really: pick the new girl up from the orphanage, take her to Hogwarts, and teach her the basic and general information there was about the Wizarding World.

They didn’t make it to Hogwarts.

“Emilia,” he called in a frantic whisper from his cage. “Emilia, please listen. You’re under a spell. A very dark and very dangerous spell. But you can fight it. I believe in you. I know you will break through it-”

“She can’t hear you,” Victor Rookwood sing-songed from behind the cage. “She can’t hear anything but me,” he grinned shark-like. “But you can, dear Professor, and I know I told you to not speak to her unless you wanted to face the consequences,” he walked around the cage, not unlike a predator, eyeing the young girl sitting quietly on the bench he conjured for her.

“Just let her go!” Fig exclaimed. “You have what you wanted. She doesn’t know a thing about that key more than you or I do. She’s just a kid!”

Victor tsked and crouched in front of Fig’s cage, facing him. Fig wished he could blast his face off, but he had taken his wand and there were wards in his cage to keep him from using magic.

“She might not know more,” Victor smirked. “But she has skills we both can only dream to have. Or tell me, didn’t you ever wonder what would it be like to see magic? To mold it yourself instead of just using its power? Dear Professor Fig, that girl is more powerful than you and I together. And she is the key to her power. So, I ask you again, refrain from talking to her and I might be kind enough to let you go.”

Fig only glared. Victor shook his head. He sighed dramatically.

“You asked for it,” he mumbled, and in a swift motion, he aimed his wand at the girl and muttered, “crucio!”

Her screams were the worst thing Fig had ever heard.

“Stop it!” Fig cried.

Emilia’s cries were deafening and heartwrenching. A girl with no previous knowledge of magic at the end of the worst curse wizardkind could have created. A girl trapped under the imperius was suddenly ripped out of that peaceful mindset to be thrown into pure torture.

“Stop it!” Fig begged.

Victor cut the curse.

Emilia whimpered and lifted her head from the ground where she had fallen under the curse. Eleazar was able to glimpse into clear brown eyes full of terror before a green mist covered them and her expression settled down once again.

Rookwood cleared his throat.

“So, that was just a warning,” he said offhandedly.

Emilia rose to her feet only to sit back down on her bench, silent and obedient as she was forced to be.

Fig’s heart broke.

“I’ll get you out of here,” he vowed, ignoring the tears running down his face, “even if it’s the last thing I do.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #eleazar fig #cruciatus curse #imperius curse #unforgivable curses

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kumeko · 6 months

Text

A/N: For the Solitary Solace zine! The hard part of being a multishipper is wanting to write all the ships and not having the time to do so, so I cheat like this and smush them all together. XD Lots of ship teasing and 1 uncle teasing because I can't not put in Alois and his dad jokes

…

Monday:

The only good days were cloudy days. Actually, no, as far as Bernadetta was concerned, the only good days were rainy days. No one forced her to go out on rainy days and she could hide in her room for as long as she wanted. The second-best days were the cloudy ones, when people didn’t like to linger outside, when they just looked at their feet and were fine with ignoring good ol’ Bernie as she went about her business.

That was probably the only reason she agreed to garden with Edelgard. Well, that and her Venus flytrap needed repotting.

Somehow, a simple task was starting to look like a workout. Bernadetta wiped her sweat, streaking soil across her forehead.

“Why is the dirt so heavy?” she grumbled, glaring at the bag of potting soil at her feet. Just who had thought it’d be a good idea to put all those bags in the far corner of the greenhouse, away from the tables?

“Need a hand?” Edelgard asked, looking up from her neat row of tomatoes. They all looked perfectly aligned. Bernadetta sometimes wondered if either she or Hubert were human, but she hadn’t figured out the answer to that yet.

“Yes—No, I’m good,” she quickly corrected herself, grabbing the potting soil bag again and ineffectively dragging it away. Considering how much of a stickler Edelgard was for practicality, she probably wouldn’t appreciate Bernadetta wasting resources on a plant that they couldn’t even eat. Maybe she’d toss the plant on the ground.

Or maybe she’d feed Bernadetta to it. There was a play with a plot like that, right?

“It’s clearly too heavy for you.” Edelgard stuck her trowel in the dirt before getting up. It was funny how normal she looked, dressed down in white buttoned-up shirt and black tights. She looked like any other student and not the Emperor. Grabbing the other end of the bag, she hoisted it up. “Here.”

Bernadetta cried out, almost falling over in surprise. “D-don’t scare me like that.”

Edelgard regarded her coolly. “I thought we already went over this? If you can’t handle your allies approaching you, how are you to deal with our enemies?”

“That’s…” She bit her lip. Honestly, if she just got to stay in her room, she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that. Other people could fight the war, she could live with any victor. Before Bernadetta could reply, Edelgard already started pulling the bag and guiding them to the potting area.

“Sometimes you worry me,” Edelgard sighed, though she didn’t sound angry or even disappointed. Just concerned. It was an odd sound.

Bernadetta didn’t know what to make of it. “Sorry.”

Edelgard waved it off. “It’s fine. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. That’s why we work on them and improve.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Bernadetta blurted out before she could stop herself. Unfortunately, she was holding a heavy bag and couldn’t cover her mouth or crouch and hide. Turning red, she hastily explained, “Gardening, I mean. Not that you’re a bad gardener but—”

“It’s fine, I get it.” Edelgard chuckled. “This isn’t the place you’d expect to find an Emperor, right? But that’s part of the new world we’re creating. Anyone can be anywhere, do anything. Even emperors and gardening.”

“And the vegetables?” Bernadetta asked, still expecting the bolt of lightning.

“Well, they’re practical plants and we have to eat. Even more—is that your old flytrap?” She paused, raising a brow.

Dropping her side of the bag, Bernadetta ran to her plant and hunched over it protectively. “Ahh, I’m sorry—please don’t destroy it—or me, don’t destroy me either, oh I should have known better than to—”

Edelgard stumbled backward slightly at the unexpected release. Regaining her balance, she owlishly blinked as Bernadetta prattled on. “What?”

Bernadetta moaned. Of course, she wouldn’t agree. “I knew it, it was too much to ask for, make the execution quick, oh I just can’t bear to watch—”

“No, that’s not—” Edelgard sighed, setting down the bag entirely. Slowly, like approaching a wounded animal, she stepped closer. “Why would I toss your plant?”

“Then you’ll toss me?” she gasped.

“No, I won’t do either.” There was a touch of impatience in her voice, but Edelgard kept her tone neutral. “Is this the same one from five years ago? It’s a lot bigger now.”

“You won’t?” Hesitantly, Bernadetta straightened, though she kept the plant close.

“I won’t,” Edelgard repeated flatly.

“Oh, good.” Bernadetta sighed with relief. “It has gotten really big—you’re not going to feed me to it, are you?”

Edelgard only sighed.

Tuesday

Bernadetta had never been afraid of ghosts and things in the dark. The dark was her friend, one of the few places where no one bothered her. She had many fond memories of walking through her school’s halls in the middle of the night.

Unfortunately, all of that was before the monastery got partially destroyed. The buildings were full of holes and burn marks, small gaps and collapsed hallways. Small rats ran in hidden tunnels and the whole building felt like a graveyard. Actually, it sorta was a graveyard, and that was partially her fault, if there were any angry spirits, they were definitely out to get her.

Like she didn’t have enough things trying to kill her as it was.

A pebble skittered across the floor and Bernadetta instinctively grabbed Hubert’s arm, pulling him close. “W-What was that?”

To his credit, Hubert didn’t so much as stiffen at the sudden contact, used to this from their many patrols together. Lifting their lamp, he moved the pool of light left and right before shaking his head. “Your own foot, most likely.”

“Oh.” Embarrassed, she pulled away. Not too far; the next one could be an actual attack, after all. As scary as Hubert was, he could scare away any ghost with just a glare. Though…he wasn’t that bad. Bernadetta glanced at the flower patch on his sleeve and smiled. No, he was actually quite kind.

“I am surprised that scared you,” he added, amused, before continuing their patrol.

“It’s dark,” Bernadetta protested, sticking right next to them as they checked the empty halls. “And it’s scary and we have the army, right? Can’t they patrol? At least at night, when there’s,” she dropped her voice to a hushed whisper, “ghosts and stuff.”

“Ghosts?” Hubert raised a brow, glancing at her. “I didn’t think you were afraid of ghosts.”

“I’m not usually, but…we kinda…you know.” Bernadetta gestured around them nervously. “And if anyone wanted revenge…well…now’s a good time.”

Hubert replied wryly, “I doubt that will happen.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts?” she asked, not entirely surprised. Between him and Edelgard, they had the market cornered on bravery and fearlessness. If only she could bottle up their strength and use it on herself.

“Not particularly. Even if there were…” Hubert trailed off, looking at her now. “Well, it’s the living that scares me more.”

Bernadetta lowered her eyes and leaned on him. “That’s…a good point.” It wasn’t a ghost, after all, who’d lock her in her room, threatening her. It wasn’t a ghost who attacked her when she went out. No, those were her father, bandits, enemies, people, all of whom were all too solid and all too real. “Yeah, they’re a lot scarier.”

“See? Nothing to be afraid of,” Hubert added gently.

In the distance, she heard another pebble roll across the floor. A ghost wouldn’t do that. A ghost couldn’t do that.

No, a person could, and the monastery was full of people. People armed to the teeth with swords, daggers, and magic. Clinging to Hubert again, she wailed, “That just made things worse!”

Wednesday:

Ferdinand’s tea was just like the man himself. Bernadetta inhaled the soft rose scent before taking a sip of the gentle, sweet tea. It was strange to think that for months, she’d been terrified of him. It was even stranger to think that they might have been engaged, once upon a time.

In another world, maybe they would have had tea like this on a regular basis and not just when they had a break from their wartime duties. Then again, in another life they might not have even become friends, and Bernadetta doubted she’d feel this comfy with someone she didn’t know. Well, ‘comfy’ in the sense that she didn’t mind their little tea breaks in the courtyard.

“Do you like it?” Ferdinand asked, his eyes bright as he watched her across the table.

“It’s good,” Bernadetta mumbled, never sure how to handle herself when he stared at her like that. She wasn’t used to the attention, and Ferdinand always gave his full attention to whoever he was with. It was like being in a spotlight. Oddly enough, she didn’t entirely hate it.

Pleased, Ferdinand smiled and took a sip himself. “I thought you would quite like the rose blend. It is mixed with some Queen of the Night, a flower that made me think of you.”

He was making fun of her. Bernadetta didn’t know how, didn’t know why, but at her core she was certain that it was true. She’d catch him in the act one day and—well, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but she’d catch him one day. Picking up her needle, she returned to her sewing and shrugged noncommittally. “You really like flower teas?”

“There are few things better than their delicate flavours.” Setting down his cup, Ferdinand clasped his hands and rested his chin on his knuckles. “Another doll?”

Feeling embarrassed, Bernadetta nodded and lifted the partially completed doll up. It wasn’t much to look at, she knew, just barely in the shape of a person let alone a fairy. “Dorothea asked for one. I don’t know why.”

“Despite your doubts, you put in a lot of skill and love into your creations. Anyone would be honoured to have one.” Ferdinand hummed thoughtfully before asking, “Could I have one?”

“You?” Owlishly, she stared at him. “You want one?”

“Is it really that surprising?” He raised a brow before cocking his head. “Is that a no?”

“Well, I…” Flustered, she nodded. It had been one thing when Dorothea asked; she could pass that off as an accident. Two people wanting her creations? Well, that was preparation for some cruel joke—she just hadn’t figured out what yet. “What do you want?”

Ferdinand stroked his chin, eyeing her for a moment before smiling broadly. “Could you make one of yourself? That way you are always by my side.”

Bernadetta almost dropped her needle. There it was! The trap! “You don’t have to tease me about it!”

Thursday:

The library had always been a quiet, empty place. That much hadn’t changed even now. There were less students, sure, and a few missing steps on the central staircase that hadn’t quite been fixed yet, but the room was otherwise intact and exactly the same. Bernadetta always found peace whenever she entered the cozy room. Even her footsteps sounded muted when she shuffled through the shelves, picking a book to curl up and read.

She wasn’t the only one who thought so. As usual, she found Linhardt at her favourite nook, his head buried deep in his research topic of the day. Bernadetta wasn’t sure when she’d started to expect him here, when he started appearing whenever she needed some alone time. Together alone he had said, but she hadn’t taken him seriously.

Who’d really be interested in her company, especially like this?

Linhardt glanced up from his paper, eyes not so much looking at her but through her as his mind still pulled at his problems. “No paints today?”

“Just a book this time.” Bernadetta leaned against the wall as she settled into the nook, her knees bent before her as she rested the book on them. Having anticipated her, Linhardt had left the sunny side to her. With the two of them nestled in, it was a cozy space. Their feet almost touched. “Research?”

“Something like that.” Linhardt flipped the page and once more he was gone, buried deep in theories that were far above her understanding.

That was more than fine with her. She liked the quiet, the soft flip of a page, their lips soundlessly repeating quotes as they read. Bernadetta had always liked the alone part, but these days she was finding the together part wasn’t so bad.

Friday:

It was incredibly hard to pull out Felix’s smiles. Just like her, they liked hiding inside, only escaping when no one was looking. Ingrid and Sylvain had a far easier time with it than Bernadetta, but she could be stubborn when she wanted to be. After all, it wasn’t like other people just let her stay inside. No, that took dedication.

Dedication she was now pouring into finding Felix’s smile. She’d tried sweets, books, and even paintings. Occasionally, she managed to coax out a small half-grin, but nothing consistent. Nothing permanent. Well, that changed today.

Bernadetta pulled the sheathed dagger out of her pocket and felt a swell of pride. Felix would love this. It was pretty (though, he wasn’t really one for pretty things), it was practical (well, maybe not practical practical, it was more of a decorative piece), and it was for a blade (not the sword he was partial to, but a dagger was still a weapon, right?).

The longer Bernadetta stared at her gift, the less confident she felt. This was a terrible idea. A stupid one. He was going to laugh.

Bernadetta picked up a rock, rolling it between her fingers as she considered that. Well, laughter was kinda a smile, right? Maybe not the one she intended, but close enough.

“Bernadetta?” Felix raised a brow as he stepped out of the training grounds, a towel hanging around his neck. He rubbed the sweat on his forehead as he approached her. “Are you going to practice that move of yours?”

“That move?” Bernadetta frowned, her brow knitting until she realized what he meant. Immediately, she stepped back and shook her head furiously. “I can’t control that! I can’t even repeat it! If I could do something that easily, I wouldn’t have to be terrified.”

“Alright, alright, I got it.” Felix rolled his eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, that.” Bernadetta gripped her sheath tightly. Should she give it? Goddess, this was humiliating. What if she’d guessed so wrong he actually stopped talking to her? “I…”

“Is that a sheath?” It was too late. He spotted the gift before she could muster the courage.

Hanging her head, she held the dagger out. “Yeah, it’s for you.”

He didn’t say anything for a long bit, his expression neutral as he turned it over. After pulling the dagger free from the sheath, Felix ran a finger along the edge before sheathing and pocketing it. Okay.”

“Okay?” Bernadetta blinked when he didn’t react further. Where was her smile? Hell, he hadn’t even frowned! Was it possible to hate something so much he couldn’t show his feelings? “You hated it didn’t you? I knew I should have gotten you something different, now you’re going to hate me and—”

“It’s fine.” Felix interrupted, tapping on her other hand. “I’ll take the rock too.”

She glanced down at the rock. It was an ordinary, black stone, something she hadn’t even thought twice about before picking up. “You want this too?”

“It’s a good slate.” His lips tugged up slightly as Felix took the rock, rolling it between his fingers with an approving hum. “Good to sharpen the dagger I’ll put in the sheathe.”

It was a smile, but the smile was for her rock. Bernadetta stared at his back, not sure if she should feel triumphant or pathetic.

Saturday:

“Hey, Bernie!”

Bernadetta yelped at the knock on her door, despite expecting and preparing for it. She cowered in her chair, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm down. “Y-yes? Please don’t kill me.”

Opening the door, Sylvain poked his head inside with a puzzled grin. “Why would I kill you, Bernie?” He laughed, stepping in. “I mean, first of all, I wouldn’t be able to read your amazing story.”

“Is that the only reason you keep me alive?” Bernadetta wailed, unable to believe her ears.

Sylvain laughed again, his eyes crinkling just so as he shook his head. “I was just teasing. We’re friends, right? Why would I kill a friend?”

Bernadetta shrank into her seat. He was worse than she’d thought. Society was only barely restraining him. “You’d kill me if we weren’t friends?”

“You slay me, Bernie. We go through this every week, and you still ask that?” He rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t drop. Casually, Sylvain ambled up next to her, peeking at her desk. Noticing a thick stack of paper, he eagerly picked it up. “Is this the next chapter?”

She resisted the urge to grab the bundle and toss it out a window. It was fine. It was fine. This was the reason he was here, the thing she had readied herself for all week. Her chapter was reaching its audience of one. “Y-yes.”

“Ohhhh.” Excited, Sylvain plopped on her bed and read the chapter title. “Escaping the chasm—oh, so she finally finds a way out?”

“Yes…” Bernadetta shifted anxiously in her seat as he started to read. Goddess, this was embarrassing. Even if he genuinely wanted to read her book—he’d been coming back once a month for the chapters, so she had to reluctantly admit Sylvain was telling the truth—there was no way he’d keep liking it. Her latest chapter might disappoint him. He might get bored.

A dozen more thoughts ran through her head and she jumped off her seat. “On second thought, read it outside.”

Before he could protest, she grabbed his arm, yanking him off her bed and through her door. He didn’t fight, just sighing as he stepped outside. “Alright, alright, I get it. But, hey, I managed to make it through seven pages this time!” Sylvain glanced over his shoulder, winking. “One day, you’re not going to kick me out. In fact, you’ll be pulling me in.”

Face red, Bernadetta squeaked, “Is that a threat?”

Sunday

Bernadetta had been in many strange situations since she’d joined the academy—her teacher was a goddess, their world was at war, she had friends—but none of those negated the oddness of sitting in a small, cramped room across from the bulky giant Raphael. It didn’t help that his fat fingers were trying to stitch a small doll. Or, well, his attempt at a doll.

“Hey, Bernie.” Raphael looked up suddenly, his eyes crinkling as he smiled as bright as the sun.

“W-What?” Bernadetta started; it was automatic at this point. Even though she knew by now he was a gentle giant, more of a moose than a bear, the sight of him still made her heart beat as fast as a rabbit. Besides, she’d read somewhere that even the nice, kind deer ate birds.

If she couldn’t trust a herbivore, why would she trust Raphael?

Well, aside from the fact that they were allies in war, and he had saved her life a few times, and they were kinda friends and—

“Thanks!” His voice cut through her thoughts. Raphael held up the blob he had been patiently stitching for the past hour. “My sister’s gonna love this.”

“She is?” She squinted at the ragdoll in his hands. At least, she assumed it was a ragdoll—Bernadetta wasn’t sure if Raphael was just really bad with needlework, or if he was purposely trying to create some sort of tentacle monster. Maybe his sister had weird tastes. “What is it?”

“A princess!” Raphael’s grin grew broader as he held up his creation proudly.

“IT IS?” Bernadetta didn’t know if there was a definition of princess that somehow matched the multi-coloured jelly-fish like creature in his hands. People used to call her creations cursed, but clearly they’d never seen anything like this. There were no eyes, not even button ones, on the doll yet, but she could feel it staring at her.

“Yeah, it’s cute, right?” Raphael didn’t mind her shouts. “You’re a great teacher.”

Bernadetta flushed and ducked her head, embarrassed. She’d never helped someone before, not like this, not with her entirely useless hobby. And he was calling her a great teacher? Even though every one of their sessions started with her hiding in the corner? With the way Raphael acted, she couldn’t tell if he had been hurt by her reactions or didn’t mind, but there was no way she deserved any of this praise.

“It was nothing,” she mumbled, pleased despite it all.

“Definitely not nothing.” Raphael sat straighter as a thought hit him. “I know! I’ll make you a doll too!”

Her jaw dropped. Maybe he really had been hurt when she flinched away. That was the only reason he was going to curse her with one of those monsters. “I won’t be able to sleep then!”

Monday

“Knock, knock!” Alois called out as he rapped on her dorm door.

Bernadetta yelped, body tense as she almost dived under her bed. But it was only Alois—funny, sweet Alois at her door—and she relaxed automatically as she let him in. “Oh, it’s you.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to go!” Alois guffawed as he entered and slapped her on the back. “You’re supposed to go, ‘Who’s there?’!”

Bernadetta giggled. There really was something comforting about his goofy jokes and silly expression. Her uncle had been exactly the same when he’d been alive. It was probably the reason her parents never liked him. “Who’s there?”

Grinning, he replied, “Candice!”

Bernadetta raised a brow. “Candice who?”

“Candice open the door, or am I stuck out here?” Alois laughed at his own joke. After a moment, he glanced at the door and deflated slightly. “Though, I guess it doesn’t really work if I’m already in the room now, does it?”

“No, it really doesn’t.” She shook her head, though she smiled all the same.

“Well, anyways, I’m heading to town and wondered if you wanted to come?” As usual, he recovered from his own mishaps quick enough. Alois was as resilient as a dandelion. She wished she had half of his strength. “You’re cooped up in here enough as it is. I thought you could use a breath of fresh air.”

“Of course!” If there was one person whose company she’d never reject, it was his. It was fun going out with him. Maybe she’d do it more often if others were—

Bernadetta paused at the thought. Going out more often?

Actually, now that she thought about it, she’d been going out a lot lately. Almost every day in fact. She glanced at her room. When was the last time she’d actually just stayed inside all day?

“Bernie?” Alois raised a brow. “If you don’t want to—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” She hooked her arm through his and nodded. “Let’s go out.”

Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, actually, to go outside.

Even if today was sunny.

#fe3h #bernadetta von varley #raphael kirsten #hubert von vestra #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #alois rangeld #linhardt von hevring #fire emblem three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #fanfic #lots of ship teasing #even if no hard romance #my fav though is her and alois #the only one to appreciate his dad (uncle?) jokes #he will never stop and she will be very happy to just listen to him

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melusinealarice · 11 months

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If you write for Finnick Oddair can you write something where he is dating Haymitch's daughter and the readers father helps them hide their relationship from Smow

I do and fs,

Warnings: its the hunger games, alcoholism, mentions of prostitution, mentions of smut, angst? Cursing

This takes place like around the 70th games, finnick is like 19 reader is 18, established relationship between reader and Finnick, while i dont see Haymitch ever having kids or helping the kids whateverss

“FINNICK!” You screamed running up to jump into his arms, “Hey doll, how are you?” He said, picking you up and spinning you around, you giggled, “better now that you’re here,” “Im sorry I couldn’t come sooner, I couldn’t risk Snow-” “I know, I know” you interrupted, “how long are you staying in 12?” “I have a train tonight” he said, “you’re joking, you JUST got here!” You whined, “Sweetheart you know he can’t stay” your dad said, coming downstairs. “Hey Haymitch,” Finnick said.

The victory tour of the 75th

From the moment you were born a spotlight was on you, you were a victor’s daughter after all. And it seems to make up for your father not being the star the quarter quell should’ve produced, Snow put the Spotlight on you. Once you turned 16 you went to all the parties, met all the people and hung out with the victors. Thats how you met Finnick, it took a few years but when you both finally did decide to get together, you had to hide it. From Snow, from the Capital, from everyone. And your dad helped with that.

Tonight the two of you had snuck off, going out and hiding in some room at the Presidential palace, to get away from the crowd and to be with Finnick. “God I hate it in there” you huffed pcing around the room. “I know,” Finnick said, calm and composed as ever, “I JUST WANT TO STRANGLE THOSE ASSHOLES!” You screamed a little too loud, “I know,” Finnick replied, leaning against the desk in the room, “how are you so calm all the damn time? It’s actually infuriating.” You said, stopping pacing to face him. He shrugged, “used to it i geuss,” “I hate that,” you said, walking up to him, “I know,” he said, smirking, you rolled your eyes.

Back at the party

Haymicth was trying his best not, to punch someone out, “hey where is your daughter?” “Is she available tonight?” “She is one hot piece.” “Could I get the both of you together?” They were disgusting, and Haymitch knew where you were, but there was no way he was giving this information up to anyone, after a while people were starting to ask where Finnick was, and he knew he had to get Finnick back to the party with a good excuse.

Back in the room

You and Finnick were making out, your hands in his hair, his hands running along your back. When Haymitch walked in, “get a room,” he said, rolling his eyes, “DAD!” You hissed, annoyed at the interruption, “we are in a room!” You complained as he grabbed your arm. “People are asking questions, I need to get you both back to the party with a good excuse,” He said, motioning for Finnick to go ahead. “You gotta be more careful sweetheart, you cant just sneak off whenever you want!” He lectured “whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes, “No its not ‘whatever’ Im trying to keep you safe, Finnick can’t protect you from Snow, and you are being reckless!” You knew he was right, “I dont want Snow to control my life!” You whisper shouted, “I know,” your dad said, “Why does everyone keep saying that!” You said, lashing your arms out to remove your dad’s hands from your arms, “whatever, Im going back to the party.” You said, turning walking away briskly, but you knew he was right. And you knew he was just trying to help you hide the relationship from the prying eyes.

This is kinda short, but like, idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

#the hunger games #hunger games #finnick odair #fanfic #thg #thg trilogy #finnick x reader

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free-for-all-fics · 1 year

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Random thoughts and ideas/prompts for Van Helsing 2004 Dracula because he’s underrated and I want more content of him 🩸If any of these inspire you to write something, please tag me 💜

1. What if you were in an enemies to lovers/Beauty and the Beast situation with Dracula? He keeps you a prisoner of sorts so he has eyes and ears on the human villages, maybe makes you pose as his sickly wife even, to lure humans to the castle under the false pretense that his wife is in urgent need of a doctor. But you also have a fire in you and stop fearing him at some point so you stop taking any of his melodramatic crap. You fall in love eventually. What would your relationship be like?

2. Write something for Van Helsing Dracula with the dialogue, “I will search forever in the dark.”

“You’re here. You’re here. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave you again.”

3. Write something for Van Helsing Dracula with the Tuck Everlasting quote, “Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever, you just have to live.”

4. Write something for Van Helsing Dracula with the quote, “Ever think you’re lonely because you kill people?”

“Or I kill people because I’m lonely.”

5. While in his black wolf form, Dracula is injured badly enough to pass out. He wakes up in a wildlife rehab center, still in his wolf form, being cared for by the reader, who might make a delightful new bride. (That “There’s much to be learned from beasts” scene in Coppola’s Dracula got me like)

6. What if Dracula was actually successful in his efforts to reproduce and had children? What do you think Dracula (and his brides) would be like as a parent? Just imagine if Dracula produced viable offspring and they survived.

7. You accidentally cut yourself while using a letter opener or something. Dracula displays some self control, overcoming his vampire instincts so he can treat your injury. He knows you don’t want to be a vampire yet, and for some reason he can’t explain, he cares about you. You can tell it’s hard for him, you can see the pain & conflict in his eyes, fangs threatening to come out as he struggles to contain himself.

8. Reader is human and Dracula’s secret lover. But then tragedy strikes when reader is either killed or dies (accident, disease, what have you). So instead of Dracula going to Victor to make a monster, he demands Frankenstein resurrect you. He still wants you as his bride and he won’t take no for an answer. He loves you too much to let death claim you and take you away from him. He’ll make you immortal, even if you’re not a vampire as he intended. He may claim to be hollow, but you’re different. You make him feel.

9. In the video game, it’s shown that Dracula had a secret life and lover while he was mortal, even though this was forbidden by The Order. When her existence was discovered, the plan was to exile her. But after she was accidentally killed during attempts to capture her, Dracula turned to necromancy to try to bring his beloved back to life. Imagine a fic where reader was his past lover from the 1400s and is reincarnated during the movie’s timeline.

OR The Order was actually too late to stop him and little did Vladislaus know, he succeeded in resurrecting her before he was murdered. The resurrection just wasn’t instant and instead centuries had to pass before reader could wake up again, fully healed and regenerated - As if her murder never happened. Now she’s crawled out from her grave, awoken in Transylvania which looks different than what she remembers, even though to her it feels like only minutes have passed. What’s become of Vladislaus? What’s happened?

10. Or maybe a fic inspired by this dialogue from the game: “Why would any man betray his best friend? Jealousy? Ambition? Love? Someday you too will be cursed by love as I was, and all your efforts to resurrect it will turn to disgusting mockeries of what you once had, as have mine.”

11. Ok this one may seem very obvious but how about a fic or headcanons for being in a poly relationship with Dracula and his wives? Whether you’re human or vampire, up to you.

12. You’re on a trip to Transylvania with a few of your best friends. All of you collectively make the stupid decision to camp nearby Dracula’s castle. When you wake up in the morning, your friends are gone and you must go into the castle to save them. Who knows what lies within?

13. You’ve been raised to be a monster hunter by your village, but you’re getting tired of the chase and are wanting it to be over. For your latest mission, they’ve sent you to Dracula’s castle to put him down for good. You ascend the steps, gripping your sword in one hand and your crossbow in the other, prepared for a fight. What you find instead is a severely aged and tired Dracula, waiting for you. His brides are dead, and he hasn’t been able to feed in so long. Like you, he’s tired. Perhaps you can come to an arrangement that benefits you both.

14. You’ve just purchased a 15th century castle in Romania and moved your entire family in. Unfortunately, Dracula and his brides have returned home from an extended vacation.

15. Imagine being Dracula’s daughter (you’re a human he kidnapped surprise adopted from the village as a child after the first attempt of creating offspring burned to ashes). You’re now an adult and It’s your final birthday as a mortal. He throws a special Hallows Eve Ball in his summer palace because tonight you’ll be turned into a vampire and feed for the first time. (Imagine if you took after your mothers and father, and wanted to create 3 vampire brides for yourself as well. These brides could be male, female, whatever lol)

16. Imagine being Anna’s sister and one night you and some other people go off into the forest near Dracula’s castle for a mission, only for your party to get ambushed and killed by Dracula in his black wolf form. He kidnaps you and keeps you locked in a golden cage that’s attached to the ceiling, with only candles and a stained glass painting of the sun giving you the illusion of light in the dark room. He tells you that you “remind him of someone he once loved and lost long ago”. He wants to use you as bait for Van Helsing and Anna, but he actually has no intention of trading you. He wants to keep you for himself, believing you’re his reincarnated wife.

17. Imagine being human and living with Dracula and his wives. You’re either their daughter or another bride, up to you. Either way, imagine if monster hunters broke into the castle and found you first, mistaking you for a vampire. They incapacitate and start hurting you in ways that feel like torture, to try to get you to tell them where the other vampires are. Your screams and sounds of distress awaken Dracula and his brides, alerting them. It’s not yet dusk/twilight, so they’re unable to help you since the sun is still up. They can’t reach the room you’re in. By the time the sun sets and they can kill the hunters, you’re so wounded and on the brink of death. Dracula has no choice but to turn you. In your weakened state, you try to tell him no, that you’re not ready, but he regretfully tells you he must do this now. He bites you and forces you to drink his blood. Even if you try to spit it out, he won’t let you.

#dracula x reader #dracula imagine #Van Helsing 2004 imagine #van Helsing 2004 x reader #vladislaus dracula #why is there so little content for this version of dracula #I love Roxburgh’s Dracula and no I will not be taking criticism #random fic ideas #fic ideas

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dragonjesterwrites · 2 years

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could u maybe write how Sun and Moon would handle a best friend with depression having a bad ‘can’t get out of bed’ type of day? I know this is a bit heavy so it’s ok if u don’t wanna write it ❤️

No you're good! I've had a fair few of those days myself, no fun whatsoever, so it's nice to have a little hurt/comfort to write and read later. Also I'm so, so sorry this took so long Nonnie, as an apology I poured in all the cute I had in the writing kitchen

TW: Implied depression, err platonic cuddling? Technically no romance (although I'm gonna come clean and admit I originally missed the "best friend" bit sgshjs so sorry again Nonnie) it's supposed to be platonic, but you could read it as romance if ya fancy. Annnnd I think that's it!

Hey Moony :) For the most part, everything's going swell! Only… a couple of things going on. Javier had to go home early, he had a liiii-ttle bit too much Fizzy Faz and got sick (it's been all cleaned up now though, don't worry.)

The other thing is about our friend. I think they're upset. Can you check on them, Moony? They just kept saying they're fine, but I don't think they are :(

Moon let his gaze linger on the note in his hands a moment longer, a twinge of concern sparking through his wires and tightening his chest.

He folded the note with nimble fingers and tucked it inside the hidden pocket of his pants, before reaching up and pulling the spare blanket he'd come for off the creaky shelving, gaze sweeping across the inventory for something that might help if something was wrong.

A glint of light caught Moon's attention from the floor as he padded sideways, and he stopped to consider it. Well… worth a try. Better than anything else in here.

After plucking the object off the floor, he exited the storage closet with rolled blankets pinned under his arms, silently nudging the disguised door shut behind him with a slippered foot.

Despite the bells, Moon had gotten good at being sneaky, and the children were not alerted to his presence, allowing him to add the new blankets to the nap area without interruption.

He snuck glances over at you from where you sat, surrounded by the little ones and with a large storybook open on your lap. Even with his night vision, he couldn't quite make out your face, but the abnormal lack of enthusiasm in your voice only made his worry grow. There was variation between characters, enough to keep the children enraptured, but it carried a distinct tiredness behind it, and Moon wanted nothing more than to swaddle you up and take you somewhere nice and cozy.

"Mr. Moon?"

A whisper in the dark and a tug at his pant leg caught his attention, and he peered down at the tot that had snuck up on him, starry fabric clutched in her hand.

"Hello, little Kiera. Is everything okay?" Moon crouched and tilted his faceplate, the girl's curious expression bathed in blue light.

Kiera nodded, then gave a toothy smile and pointed at the blanket he'd just set down. "Can I be a shoo-shi roll?"

Moon let out a quiet chuckle and booped her nose affectionately, pleased at the giggle it caused. "Of course you can." In Moon's experience, nothing quite put a smile on a human's face like watching other humans be silly. And fifty giggling human children wrapped up in blankets was certainly a very silly sight. Not to mention adorable.

Kiera laid down on the blanket, cheeks puffed out as a result of trying- and failing- to contain her laughter, and Moon began to roll her up, an amused noise of his own slipping out.

"How's that? Not too tight?" Moon asked once he was finished, and Kiera shook her head quickly.

"It's perfect! I'm a swordfish!"

Moon's frame shook with nigh-silent laughter as he scooped her up under his arm, gently shushing her when she squealed in delight. "You certainly are. Now, shall we go get your brother?"

"Yea! He can be a tuna! And Lisa can be a crab, annnd Victor can be a salmon, and…"

Moon had timed it just right so that you had finished the story upon their arrival, and as he predicted, within seconds of spotting Kiera happily being toted around as a tuna roll, every last child had also wanted to be transformed into sushi.

It didn't take much longer than that to get the children to sleep- Moon could personally attest to how comfortable being rolled up into a blanket was, having tried it himself out of curiosity- and he was able to make his way over to you where you were sat in the beanbag, completely still apart from where your thumb softly stroked the gilded spine of the closed book you looked down upon.

Upon his approach, you blinked, then raised your head slowly. The lingering worry that had been ever-present jumped to a full on buzz of concern when he caught a glimpse of just how tired you looked before you smiled. But it didn't quite reach your eyes, the usual lively gleam gone.

"Hello, Starlight." Moon whispered, slipping his hand into his pocket to pull out the object he'd plucked from the storage closet. "Sunny said you seemed upset. Penny for your thoughts?"

Your attention flickered to the copper coin he held pinched between silicone fingers and thumb, and you huffed in quiet amusement after a moment.

"Ah, you know him. He's always worried." You offered him a small smile, then turned your gaze back to the book. Moon hesitated, then slipped the coin back in his pocket. That wasn't a denial, but you clearly didn't want to talk about it either. Hm.

"M-Moony?" Your eyes widened as Moon flopped down beside you and pulled you into his embrace, his front pressed to yours, faceplate gently nuzzling the top of your head while his arms cradled you close.

"Is this okay?" He murmured, long fingers woven in your hair pausing their slow scratching.

"I- yeah, but, the kids-"

"The little ones are fine, fast asleep. They all had a Moondrop before their nap."

You were silent, but you moved in closer, arms winding around him, and he resumed gently rubbing circles on the back of your head.

A muffled noise caught his attention, and he paused briefly to listen. It came again, slightly more audible this time, and again, now accompanied by your body beginning to tremble and shake in his arms. Oh, Starlight.

"It's okay. Let it out. I've got you." Moon murmured, shifting to let you in more as you squeezed at him.

"I-I'm sorry." Came the choked reply after a minute, and he shook his head above you.

"You've nothing to be sorry for."

"But I- I'm crying all over your ruffles." You whispered, fingers flexing where they clutched at his shoulder, and Moon let out an amused hum.

"Starlight. Do you have any idea how much drool, vomit, and snot the Daycare accumulates on a daily basis?"

"Gross." He felt your brow furrow against his shoulder, but heard the short giggle you let out.

"Mmhmm. Tears are sanitary, at least. And-" His voice softened. "I meant it when I said there's no need to be sorry. But, you know you don't have to be so strong all the time. It's okay to not be okay."

"...I know." Your voice was quiet, cracking again. "I just- I didn't want to burden you two with my problems. You already have so much to deal with."

If Moon had a heart, it would certainly have shattered. Even on your bad days, you still held such care for others. Even others like him and Sun, literal machines designed to handle fifty children and all their problems. Of course, they were more than machines, and they did get stressed, thank you very much Corporate, but-

"Starlight, we adore you, you're our best friend. As far as we're concerned, your problems are our problems. You can always come and talk to us, about anything. You are not a burden." Moon moved his hand to rub your trembling back as he spoke, music box clicking to life within him.

For awhile, the two of you lay together without speaking, only the soothing chimes of the music box, Moon's machinery, and the sound of your breathing as it deepened and slowed filled the air, and the lunar animatronic became vaguely aware of slipping into a restful trance of his own.

But the disappointing, telltale clicks and whirs of the generators powering up soon roused him, and he focused blearily on his internal clock. Thirty minutes already?

"Starlight?" He began as the two of you slowly untangled yourselves. You looked up at him- definitely still tired, but the mood scan indicated you were content, at least. "Would you like to stay over tonight, for a sleepover in our room?"

"Oh." You looked surprised for a moment, then smiled, looking a bit like yourself again. "Yeah, I'd love to. Are you… sure it's okay?"

"Yes. I apologize that we didn't allow you to visit sooner, we just had to ensure it was clean… and there would be no issues for you to navigate up there." The distinct, loud whirs of the dial around his and Sun's room balcony reminded him to hurry, and he helped you to your feet. "I'll send you the route via your Fazwatch. And, Stardust?"

"Mm?"

"I'm glad you're here."

~~~~~

Sun perked up as he picked up on the sound of footsteps outside the secret entrance to his and Moon's room. Well, perked up more than he already was- he'd been bouncing around excitedly ever since he'd read Moon's note.

He leapt off the edge of the bed and swung the door open, and you only got a split second to look surprised before he was picking you up, giggling and nuzzling against you as he carried you in.

"Hello to you too!" You laughed, and Sun twirled you around, letting out a boisterous laugh of his own.

"Dewdrop! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!" His rays fluttered and pulsed as he finally set you down on the bed, dropping to a crouch next to you and digging through a bag pre-placed at the foot of the bed. "Moony told me you weren't feeling well after all, so I got out my best sleepover supplies! I, ah, had to borrow some from the lost and found, but I'll return them tomorrow."

He pulled out a stack of dvds, placing them next to you and giving them a little pat, then turned back to the bag and pulled out some hot cocoa packets, a rolled up electric blanket- "no heating when the lights go out, but this should keep you warm until they come back on!" -and roughly thirty popcorn bags.

You slid off the bed and kneeled next to him, wrapping your arms as best you could around the large animatronic and burying your head in his chest, prompting him to let out a soft 'oh' and hug you back. "Thank you, Sunny."

"Of course." He whispered, squeezing you tight. "Can't have my Sunshine upset, hm? I'm prescribing allllll the cuddles."

"That sounds lovely." Sun heard you murmur, and he took that as his cue, easily scooping you up and carrying you onto to the bed.

"Then cuddles you shall have!" He declared, playfully growling as he wrapped his arms around you and rolled onto to the bed. It warmed every last part of him to hear you shriek with laughter, swatting at him and making him giggle too. You really were precious to him and Moon.

And he wanted you to know that, too, so even throughout the movie, and the second, and the third, even after you had fallen into what seemed to be a very peaceful, deep sleep halfway through, Sun made sure to hold you close under the warm blankets, periodically whispering quiet assurances and letting the sound of your heartbeat lull him to a rare rest.

#platonic #sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #writing request

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