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surftrips · 3 months

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SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously.

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.”

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence.

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse.

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.”

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—”

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close.

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now.

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.”

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness.

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

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myosotisa · 1 year

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i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it.

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myos ideas #vampire!Eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #myo4munson

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tkaulitzlvr · 5 months

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hii I absolutely adore ur writing and I was wondering if maybe you could write something where like tom attempts to do no nut November but fails and it ends with smut??? Thank youuu💗

CAN’T RESIST - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: wierdly, tom is determined to get through the entire month of november with zero sex, having failed within the first few days for the past five years you have been together. you have other ideas, focused on getting him to crack, becoming desperate yourself.

content: smut

a/n: omg i loveeee this idea thanku sm for the request!! the way u sent this at like the start of november and i’m only just posting it i’m so sorry - i’ve had like the first paragraph written for a couple weeks😭also tom would def fail nnn on november 1st at 00:01am he is not lasting a second…

“oh my god.” tom pants, pulling out of me and climbing off of my limp frame, rolling to lay beside me, his chest heaving up and down as beads of sweat line the soft skin. “don’t know how i’m gonna last a whole month without this schatz.”

his confession doesn’t come as a surprise, in fact it is the exact opposite. tom is the horniest person i have ever met, and usually, he can’t go a day without sex - whether it be something rushed and desperate in public, or a long night of raw passion between the sheets, he can’t live without sex, which is why i am so surprised that he is attempting to go through with this whole ‘no nut november’ bullshit. he won’t last a second, and deep down i think he knows that too. though after the hours that he has spent inside of me, deciding to use the entirety of today - october 31st, the day before he had to give up his uncontrollable desires - fucking me just about anywhere he could, stating that it will ‘make up for the lost time’ and ‘make it a little easier for him’, i don’t see how he could even have the energy to do anything remotely sexual for the next month, his body spent and exhausted as it collapses beside me.

“i can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” a small giggle leaves my lips amidst the shaky breaths, hands pulling the sheets upward and over my naked body before snuggling into his frame, wrapping my arm loosely across his chest. “you know that you won’t even last a day, right?”

“this means no sex for you too you know.” his eyebrow raises, eyes tiredly meeting mine with a hint of mischief, thinking that he has caught me out, though he doesn’t realise that i can handle my needs in other ways, it is him that is totally restricted.

“i don’t need your help to cum baby. cute of you to assume i do.” i smirk, kissing his cheek lazily before rolling out of bed, grabbing my panties from the soft carpet, sensing his eyes burning into me from behind. i pay no attention, flashing him a teasing smile as a reminder that i have won, slowly walking into the bathroom to freshen up, his own steps soon following.

“the fuck do you mean you don’t need my help? i can still help you cum, i just can’t fuck you, which don’t get me wrong is the worst part, but nothing says that i can’t touch you. you know i’ll go insane if i can’t even do that.” he already sounds frustrated, a small smile tugging along my lips at the realisation that he really won’t last two seconds, his desperation embarrassingly clear despite the challenge not even starting yet.

“we’ll see. you just focus on getting yourself through this dumb challenge of yours baby.” i chuckle, that same knowing grin on my face once i palm him through his boxers, his mouth falling open at the sensation. though it doesn’t last long, my hand pulling away firmly to adjust the straps of my bra as i put it back on, leaving tom shocked as i walk away, the realisation that i don’t intend to make this easy for him soon becoming real.

and i stick to my plans - set on making this the most painful month of his life, certain that he will never consider doing this challenge again.

if only he knew what he was getting himself into.

“baby?” my voice sounds throughout the quiet house, loud enough for tom to pick up on it from downstairs. i smile to myself, turning to the mirror and adjusting the strap of the bra that i had bought earlier on, whilst tom had been at practice. the black lace - a colour which tom had never been able to control himself when ever i wore it - tightly cupped my breasts, pushing them upward and highlighting my cleavage in the most tempting way possible. small silver jewels line the lace of my thongs, matching perfectly with my upper half, leaving little to the imagination - though far too much that tom wouldn’t be able to touch, a task which would seem impossible the second he laid his eyes on mine.

“yeah?”

“can you come here for a second?” my question is nothing short of innocent, calm with a slight hint of mischief, though it is clearly not enough for him to pick up on as he shouts a quick ‘sure’, the rhythmic sound of his feet trudging up the stairs signalling that he is close, and clearly not expecting anything like this. but it has been two days- fourty eight hours of no sex, no touching, not even an implicit complaint of needing anything sexual from tom. he has been strangely okay with not fucking me, a task which any other time, would be next to impossible. and i feel it - i feel the difference in his actions. he is restricted, almost holding back just in case his impulses get the better of him. but right now, his mind has no choice, my own doing the thinking for him as he is walking blindly into my carefully calculated trap.

“is everything okay-” his calm question is soon cut off by the short curses that spill from his lips when his eyes make contact with my body, not bothering to hide the way they rake down my figure, drinking in the prominent cleavage, moving downward to my curves, finally landing on the slightly transparent panties.

“jesus christ schatz you’re gonna fucking kill me.” he mutters, walking toward me and attacking his hands to my waist, the pads of his fingers tracing the bare skin of my stomach, one slipping teasingly into my panties. his lips are inches away from my own, about to lean in and seal them in a heated kiss, though i pull away, leaving him dumbfounded.

“you like?” i ask innocently, doing a quick twirl as his eyes quickly glue to my ass, soon looking upward once i face him once again. he is in some sort of trance, mouth hanging open slightly, eyes dark and lustful, though the most noticeable difference is the tent that has formed through his sweatpants, a tinge of satisfaction in my veins at the realisation that my plan has worked. despite this, i keep the naive act up, acting as if i do not notice his change in demeanour. “i bought it from victoria’s secret today. it was on sale, and this was the last one in my size. what do you think?”

“you know what i think.” he states frustratedly, his hands doing the talking as they trail down to my ass, giving the bare flesh a rough squeeze, his lips ghosting over my own. “you’re so sexy schatz, so beautiful.”

his lips attach to my own, an indisputable hunger evident as he kisses me, his free hand latching onto the loose curls that fall to my upper waist, running through them harshly. he groans lowly into my mouth, pressing his hips against my own, silently drawing my attention to the hardness between his thighs.

“look what you’re doing to me baby.” he breathes out, seeming a little angry that i have managed to get to him so easily. though he doesn’t kiss me again, instead he holds back, pressing his forehead against mine whilst his hands continue to rest on my lower back, bringing our bodies closer together. “fuck you’re making this so hard…you know that?”

“you gonna give up already?” my voice is seductive, a torturous mix of sympathetic and lustful, lips moving to rest just below his ear, kissing the skin as his eyes flutter shut, a loud sigh leaving his parted mouth, the grip on my waist simultaneously becoming tighter when my kisses speed up. “if you want me…i’m right here.”

“jesus fucking christ.” he trails off, his eyes now squeezing shut as my lips work against his neck, his mind visibly contemplating on whether he should give in. i am right in front of him, my body a blank canvas, willing to give myself up, to allow myself to be used as he pleases, in exchange for the pathetic remainder of his pride - the two days that he has gone without me going down the drain if he decides to act on the desire that is so clearly eating him up.

his visible indecisiveness isn’t enough for me. i need him to give up, to no longer care about holding back anymore, my hand moving underneath his sweatpants as i run my fingers along his length through his boxers, a loud groan leaving his lips in response. he doesn’t object, instead he seems to lean into my touch, confirmation of his defeat on the tip of his tongue, just about to be uttered, my eyes wide open as i wait for him to finally say it.

a loud buzzing sound resonating from his pocket soon takes his attention, totally destroying the moment as i remove my hand from his pants, his eyes shooting open as he takes his phone, the source of the noise, eyes slightly widening once he sees the who is calling, their name lighting up the screen. bill.

“i have to take this baby. you look beautiful by the way, and, nice try.” he says, shooting me a wink and placing a quick kiss on my lips before adjusting himself, clearing his throat and disappearing out of the room. pretty fucking convenient.

i groan in frustration, collapsing backward onto the bed, completely infuriated at the fact that he was so close to letting go, knowing that right now he could be inside of me if it weren’t for that phone call - quickly realising that this is going to be much harder than i had thought.

my eyes make direct contact with the fresh towel folded neatly on the bathroom counter, scrambling quickly to hide it in the cupboard below as i step out of the shower, hands twisting the tap as the fast flow of water soon stops. i smile to myself when i hear the faint sound of a guitar from our bedroom, signalling that tom is in there, this key to my plan. nine days - nine whole days and he hadn’t cracked, not even close to wanting to fuck, the quick make out sessions and ability to still touch me as he pleases seeming to be sufficient. and whilst his mouth and fingers feel good, i need more, desperate to feel him inside of me, willing to go to any lengths to make him crack.

my fingers rake hurriedly through my freshly washed hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat neater, whilst my body remains completely naked, dripping with water. i take one final look at myself through the fogged up mirror, certain that my plan will work this time, figuring that if it doesn’t, then literally nothing else will.

i open the door that leads directly into our bedroom, acting totally nonchalant and squeezing any last droplets of water from my hair. i walk over to the closet, pretending to scan the shelves for towels, knowing that there aren’t any in here, my entire body on display for him. the gentle strumming of the guitar soon comes to a stop, signalling that i have gotten tom’s attention almost immediately, as i had expected.

“baby have you seen the towels? i can’t find any fresh ones anywhere.” i sigh obliviously, eyes finally landing on his own, only his are fixed on my figure, clearly not paying attention to a word that i am saying. his lips are parted, eyes shifting downward as they slowly take in each inch of skin, nothing at all left to his imagination which, despite his silence, clearly offers him no thoughts deemed holy.

“hm?” he mutters, moving his guitar from where it had been resting in his lap and setting it beside him on the bed. he gets up quickly, walking toward me, the awestruck expression plastered on his face now replaced with one unable to be mistaken for anything else besides pure lust. and when his hands find my waist, running up and down it softly, tongue dipping in and out of his mouth to play with the piercing there whilst his lips are curved into a smirk, i know that i have him right where i want him.

“i said do you know where the towels are. i can’t find any and i need to get dry.” his eyes look everywhere but my face, the only thing i get in response being a subtle nod. instead, his hands move upward, cupping my breasts, whilst his head finally tilts, eyes tearing away from where his hands now roam, lips nearing closer and closer, until they roughly collide with my own.

and i waste no time kissing back, silently thanking his almost non-existent willpower, channelling my pent up sexual frustration into the kiss as my lips mould with his, sighing loudly when his teeth sink into the plush of my bottom lip. he presses himself against me, the tent in his jeans more obvious than ever, one that he won’t be able to ignore as easily as he had done last time - one that i know he has to fix, meaning that this time, he won’t leave me totally desperate. his tongue slips into my mouth when i moan slightly, the kiss more messier than before, totally unrecognisable to the soft ones we had shared up until this moment, because this time, they show that he wants this just as badly as i do.

“jump.” he mutters almost inaudibly against my lips, soon reconnecting them once he breathes in shakily, his hands grabbing the flesh under my thighs once i hoist myself upward, wrapping them around his waist. he guides us toward the bed, using the steady hold he has on my hips to grind me against his, the sensation making it harder for him to kiss back, soon reminding me that this is the first sexual contact he has had in over a week. my back collides harshly with the soft sheets as he climbs above me, reconnecting our lips and slowly spreading my legs apart. he hurriedly scrambles to take his shirt off, throwing the material carelessly across the room, revealing his bare torso.

my hands run down the skin, trailing the muscle of his abs, watching how his eyes fall shut as i move lower and lower, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans. his eyes open when i hesitate, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. he quickly places his hand on top of mine, now guiding my movements as he forces my fingers to slip below the denim, moving below the cotton of his boxers.

“what about your challenge?” i ask, just before my fingers make contact with his dick, eyes widening when he groans in frustration, rolling his eyes at my question.

“fuck the challenge.” he mumbles, forcing my hand to wrap around his dick, his head falling backward the second that the pads of my fingers trace his length, soon running up and down at a slow pace.

“oh jesus christ.” he whispers, eyes half-lidded as he fights to keep them open, desperate to watch my movements, no matter how lethargic they are. because though i have gotten what i wanted, managing to divert his attention from the ridiculous challenge onto me, i want him to be in control, opposed to me doing all the work. and somehow, he seems to read my mind, removing my hand from underneath his pants despite the unmistakable satisfaction etched upon his face. his movements are fast as he removes his jeans, boxers soon following in a messy heap of clothing on the floor.

being naked already works in my favour, allowing tom to line his tip at my entrance, hand pumping his dick lazily a few times before slowly sliding in. as he does so, the tip slips in and out of my folds ever so slightly as i whine in frustration, the stimulation not enough as it reminds me of everything that i have within arms reach, tom holding back only agitating me even more. he picks up on my impatience, my anger buying him time to savour this moment, to tease me just a little more, having me under his mercy just as i had him last time i had gotten close to making him surrender. and i am not willing to have him ripped away again, to be taunted beyond belief, instead willing to beg for him.

“stop playing around and just fuck me.” i sigh through pathetic moans, hands reaching to his neck, pulling it downward so our foreheads our inches apart. and surprisingly, he puts me out of my misery, slowly sliding into me in one smooth snap of his hips. my mouth falls open, a high-pitched moan leaving it when he bottoms out, his tip brushing against my g-spot perfectly, hands raking down his back.

and though my nails dig into the skin with enough force to draw blood, he uses the pain to build up the speed of his thrusts, teeth gritting together as he winces lowly, somewhat used to the feeling, knowing that his pace warranted the strength of my fingers dragging down his back. despite the stinging pain, he maintains a soft smirk, knowing that the soft red marks are nothing more than evidence of the pleasure that only he can provide me with. desperate to feel him just a little closer, my legs hook around his waist, drawing him even deeper inside me, so deep that i swear i can feel him in my stomach.

“you knew what you were doing.” he breathes out between soft groans, so quiet they are almost inaudible. “knew that i’d give in, didn’t you?”

whilst he can speak somewhat coherently, i had lost that ability the second his dick had entered me, any sound that i make an embarrassing mix of moans and whines - nowhere near a properly understandable sentence. though tom wants more, using one hand to grab hold of my cheeks firmly, though not enough to hurt me, forcing my eyes to make contact with his own, prompting me to answer his question.

“mhm…” i manage to mumble, eyes rolling to the back of my head when his tip repeatedly hits the soft spot inside of me, soft curses now pouring from tom’s lips as i clench around him, knowing the reaction that such movements usually encourage out of him, recognising that this time is no different.

“fuck- it’s worth it though schatz. you feel so good, taking me so well.” his words of encouragement are all i need to attach my lips to his neck, placing messy, open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin, noticing the way his lips part, quiet and almost restricted moans escaping them. it isn’t enough for me, feeling somewhat frustrated that he holds back, wanting nothing more for him to cry out in pleasure as i already am, craving for him to mirror my own ecstasy.

“i wanna hear you…” i whine quietly, clenching around him as he curses once again before mumbling a low ‘okay baby’, his lips falling open as rough moans now sound from the back of his throat, getting louder when he drills into me at a certain angle, far deeper than he has ever been before.

and when that familiar knot begins to build within my stomach, i don’t need to ask tom if he is close to, his dick beginning to twitch faintly inside of me. his teeth sink into his bottom lip, thrusts becoming slow and deep, no longer rough and fast as they had been moments ago. now i can really feel him, every inch of his dick slowly pushing inside of me, stopping for a second when he bottoms out, soft grunts leaving his lips as quiet moans escape my own, feeling him closer than i ever had before.

“gonna cum baby. do it with me, yeah?” he whispers, head dipping downward to place messy kisses across my face, starting at my forehead, trailing downward to my nose and cheeks, before ending at my lips, capturing them in yet another rough kiss, nothing like the slow and deep movements of his hips as he continues to push in and out of me.

when his lips falter, no longer able to kiss me with such force as they had when they had initiated it, i know that he can’t hold on anymore, his head tilting backward as a loud moan escapes his mouth, followed with hot spurts of cum that coat my walls, his hips rocking back and forth tiredly as he releases. the pressure of his own climax soon triggers my own, his name spilling from my lips over and over again, high off the feeling of his dick as it continues to thrust into me, fucking his seed deeper, riding both our highs.

his hold on my waist becomes softer, slight red marks in place of his fingers, our breathing loud and heavy as it envelops the room, thick with the smell of sex. he pulls out of me, sighing loudly as a mix of our juices seeps out, his hands lazily grabbing some tissue to wipe it away.

tiredly, he moves upward, his body collapsing on top of me, lips pecking my own a few times. my own arms wrap around his back, fingers tracing the skin softly in an attempt to ease the stinging pain my nails had left whilst his own hands run along my trembling frame, lips pressing sweet kisses into my hair.

“you okay?” his voice is hoarse as he speaks, attempting to appear as unbothered as possible, though i can tell he is totally worn out. i manage a quick ‘mhm’, lips turning to kiss just above his shoulder, noticing him smile weakly against me.

“are you upset about the challenge?” i ask tiredly, eyes on the verge of closing, ears barely picking up the soft chuckle that leaves his lips, his fingers squeezing the flesh of my hips as he kisses me softly, shaking his head.

“fuck the challenge.” he stretches out, bringing my body closer to his. “sex is just too good, plus it’s hard when my girlfriend walks around naked in front of me, what kind of guy ignores that shit? i don’t care if someone paid me, i’d never pass up on a chance like that. especially when you look this good.”

“you’re so romantic.” i scoff sarcastically, shaking my head at his impulsiveness, feeling him smile against me, his head lifting up to look into my eyes.

“what, i’m not allowed to say you’re beautiful?” he smirks, hands trailing my body once again, eyes visibly lighting up with that same look i had seen just minutes ago, knowing exactly what it means. “i mean, i could show you that you’re beautiful instead, if you want me to…”

though the grin on his face says otherwise, i know that he is serious about it, his actions proving so if my instincts weren’t enough. his hands trail upward knowingly, fingers running across my breasts as his lips makes content with them, placing harsh kisses onto the skin, his teeth digging in every few seconds. my head falls backward, back arching to allow him better access, silently accepting his proposal. he stops momentarily, looking into my eyes.

“we’ve got nine days of lost time to make up for schatz. i think now seems like a good time to start, don’t you?”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tomkaulitz #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #kaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #bill kaulitz

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rallentando1011 · 1 month

Note

hey so how do you think the rottmnt boys would deal with a s/o who has insomnia unless they’re cuddling their boyfriend or their giant eevee plush in their own house or stealing something from the boys. Like if they got nothing to bury their face in and squish in their sleep, they ain’t sleeping and look tired the next day. They just look so lonely and lost without something to sleep with too. Totally steals one of Raphael’s teddies when they sleep over as Raphael’s lover. For Donnie, probably fall asleep with shelldon if Donnie isn’t for grabs and yes, shelldon was very comfortable, he felt warm and sturdy like Donnie’s plastron sort off. Leo’s pillow which he is never getting back.

ROTTMNT Boys + Insomniac Reader

Donnie

For Donnie, late nights, all nighters and the unfortunate side effects of the points are not uncommon

His lab work often requires that he stays up late and starts early as a matter of expediency

But that’s not the problem right now

The problem he notices on one late night is how exhausted you are, slumped entirely on his precious desk space

Donnie lightheartedly asks how much melatonin you took only to be met with a condemning look, his main cause of concern

“HOW MUCH- Ahem, I mean, how much melatonin did you take?”

“Like, a handful.”

“And this is a nightly occurrence?”

“Just about.”

“By Darwin- let’s get you to sleep for now. Tomorrow, we’re doing a physical and psych eval. because how are you even alive.”

Donnie sets you up on a sufficiently cozy bench in the lab with a certain drone taking up residence on your lap

After laying you down, the man moves straight back to working at his desk, much to your chagrin

However, that doesn’t mean you don’t have some tricks up your sleeve

“Respectfully, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. makes a better cuddle buddy,” you call idly to the turtle, trying to conceal your cuddle-seeking agenda

A contemplative hum is Donnie’s response

You persist. “No offense. He’s warm. You’re cold. Not much of a competition.”

“Begrudging sigh- get over here.”

“Say what now?”

“I know you heard me and shan’t be repeating myself. Take up the offer or don’t.”

“Aw. What a sweetheart.”

You join him at his desk chair, curling up cozily into his side with a smug grin, a content drone still on your lap

But your smugness doesn’t last long

Within a few minutes, you’re completely slumped over on Donnie’s shoulder

Donnie also doesn’t have the ability to boast as he too finds himself resting on you, snoring rhythmically into a deep sleep

Mikey

Mikey immediately notices something’s up

Your terrible motor function, your tendency to lean, half-asleep, against any flat surface you find, not to mention your nearly complete lack of hand-eye coordination

Everything comes to a boiling point, quite literally, when you two are cooking together and you zone out with your head down on the counter as your mushroom risotto almost boils over

After he gets the heat off and that situation under control, it’s time for Dr. Feelings to step in and get some answers

“What’s going on?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You seem really drowsy. If something’s wrong, you can tell me. Or not. Any way you’re comfortable with.”

“Nothing’s wrong, per say. It’s just - getting to bed has been really difficult this week for some reason.”

Mikey nods, understanding completely

Once he correctly cleans and puts away dishes and foods, he recommends that you two converse in his room about the situation

You agree, walking alongside him through the lair on precarious legs

The box turtle lays on his bed with you at his side and starts asking questions

When did this bout of insomnia start? What are some of the stressful situations you’ve experienced recently?

As you roll to be right at his side, feeling how warm and cozy the bed feels, admiring the distant babble of potential issues and solutions of this rough patch, the lure of sleep becomes more and more tantalizing

Mikey finishes a thought and looks to you for your opinion, though he’s met with calmly closed eyes and shallow breathing

A smile comes across his face and - even though the in depth solution for this is a larger issue - that is an obstacle in a lot more than just the fact for another day

For now, he just bundles up beside you and drifts off to sleep

Leo

At first when Leo notices your perpetual grogginess, he plays it off as a joke

Asking you what kind of coffin you slept in, referring to you as an elderly person, he’s always got some sort of quip

The concern in his eyes is almost imperceptible

Eventually, his concern cracks through your shell and you feed up to how difficult it is to get to sleep every night

Leo goes slack-jawed

Not only have you been struggling to sleep like his own restless self, but he’s been ribbing you for it?

He’s flabbergasted

“Before you ask, yes, I even tried shutting my phone off and still couldn’t

“Man. This is serious.”

Leo immediately sets to grabbing materials - only the necessities, of course - popcorn, throw blankets, all of his unicorn plushies, good old-fashioned Jupiter Jim movies, and warm tea

The man knows from personal experience that one of the best ways to make yourself sleep is to completely drain your energy and set up a situation in which it is literally impossible not to fall asleep in

“How could snacks possibly help me fall asleep?”

“Not to say just trust me, but just trust me.”

“Source: trust me bro.”

“Exactly.”

One movie and snack time later, you found yourself swaddled in innumerable blankets, plush unicorns clutched tightly to your chest, shoulder to shoulder with your turtle and halfway to unconsciousness, you saw the validity in what he was saying

“Don’t make me regret saying this, but you were right.”

“Of course. When aren’t I?”

“Seriously, thanks.”

“Literally anytime.”

Raph

Raph immediately senses that something’s wrong the second he tries to go to sleep

He goes through his nightly routine just fine: putting on his onesie, brushing his teeth, popping in his retainer, kissing each of his teddy bears goodnight-

Except he can’t

The majority of the plush toys are pristinely lined up in place on his bedside, but as soon as he makes it to the spot of his beloved Captain Cuddles, he’s met only by air and emptiness

And he freaks out

Drawers thrown haphazardly around the room, every piece of furniture in the lair unturned, not a single object in the lair remains unsearched

He’s exasperated, exhausted, completely distraught until you call to tell goodnight

When you hear he’s upset and ask why, he lets you in on the situation

And he’s met with silence

Guilty silence

Before he could chide you, you hung up, and within the hour you were at the lair

Raph seems betrayed, voice cracking and everything, as he asks why you committed such a dissolute deed

“I just haven’t caught much sleep this week, and having something soft or something of yours helps, you know?”

“How long has it been since you slept?”

“Like, three days?”

“It’s only Wednesday.”

“Yep.”

Suddenly, all the stress and distress melts away from his brow, the tension from his shoulders, all replaced by understanding

What was probably going to be an thirty minute rant about the significance of his teddies instead turns into a soft spoken invitation to have a sleepover, and that is an offer you can’t refuse

So, Raph ends up being able to wish each of his stuffies goodnight - and you, too - your head resting on his plastron, the two of you cozily cuddled up

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serasvictoria · 1 month

Text

Title: The Boy Is Mine (Mar’s edition)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: A romantic night in doesn’t go exactly as Eddie had planned.

Word Count: 3.312

Warnings: Established relationship. Insecure Eddie. Hurt/comfort.

Notes: Written for @carolmunson’s The Boy Is Mine Writing Challenge (you can find the rules here). Super late entry and it feels like I’ve been working on this for months, but it’s only been about two and a half weeks. Anyway. Here it is.

At least I can finally read the other entries now so that’s the rest of my weekend sorted.

Not beta-read so if you find any mistakes… those are all mine.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Eddie promised you the night before. “You can just put your feet up, or on me if you want, and I’ll obey your every command. I am but your humble servant.”

It had been one month since you had moved in together and Eddie had insisted on doing this for you since he felt that he had been difficult to live with. Naturally you had disagreed with that assessment, but he had been adamant.

Every time that you walked into the bathroom and he had left the toilet seat up, he would apologize like it was the worst thing in the world. It didn’t matter that you kept telling him that you didn’t mind and that it was no trouble at all, he’d still apologize and dart around you to right the wrong.

Same thing happened when you found the odd sock in a place that wasn’t the laundry basket. Or when Eddie hadn’t used a coaster.

Ridiculous and tiny things that were easily overlooked and ignored. Nothing that would be able to ruin your day so you never called him out on these things, because you genuinely didn’t mind. It didn’t stop him from insisting that he was an awful boyfriend and promising to do better though.

Sure, living with Eddie provided some challenges, which was more down to this still being very new to both of you, but nowhere near as many as he himself seemed to think.

For now, you were eager to find out what he had in store for you. Eddie had been incredibly secretive about it and had offered up no clues whatsoever. The only things that he had said were that it was going to be cheesily romantic and that he would surprise you.

You had been looking forward to it the entire day and were positively buzzing as you parked your car next to his van. Work had been hectic this past week and you had been fast asleep at around eight every single evening.

Thankfully today had been relatively quiet so you had been able to leave early. Maybe you should have called to let him know, but you had completely forgotten in your excitement.

When you got out of the car, you could already hear Eddie swearing inside the trailer. The volume only increased the closer that you got and you could only silently apologize to your poor neighbors.

It made you giggle to hear him swear like a docker on the other side of the door. You could only guess as to why it was, but still tried to keep your face as passive as possible when you finally opened the door to see what lay within.

Nothing could prepare you for what was on the other side however.

The kitchen looked like a bomb had exploded in it and Eddie was standing right in the middle of the chaos with a pink flowery apron that had once belonged to your grandmother over his usual black outfit. It looked both ridiculous and endearing.

There were eggshells on the counter and the contents of said eggs were dripping down it. There were white footprints on the floor, because your boyfriend must have stepped in what you assumed (and hoped) was flour. And then there were the white globs of something that looked like frosting that were everywhere, including in his hair.

“Eddie?” Upon hearing your voice, he turned around with a horrified expression on his face since you had caught him in the act. The spoon that was in his hand clattered to the floor loudly. Whatever was on it spattered onto the floor and also left debris on his socks and his jeans. You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Oh fuck.” Eddie rubbed his hands on the apron, leaving white smudges in its wake. “I thought I had another hour at least.”

Very calmly, you took off your shoes and hung your coat and bag on a peg near the door before walking closer to survey the mess that your boyfriend had made. Somehow it was even worse up close and that was saying something.

There was a mixing bowl on the counter, which seemed to be the source of the mess, with a hand mixer next to it. You could picture him using the highest setting only to have the contents end up all over the place.

“I got to hand it to you, I’m definitely surprised,” you eventually managed to get out whilst desperately trying to suppress your giggles.

“But not exactly in the right way,” he admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck. “In my head, you would come home after I cleaned everything, with the table set all fancy, so many lit candles that it would be a fire hazard and with some sappy record playing.”

“That does sound nice.” There were paper molds with batter in them right behind Eddie, which he was unsuccessfully trying to block from view. “Shame that I got home a bit earlier.”

“You could always leave and pretend that you’ve never seen this.” That’s what finally makes you laugh and since you had been holding back for a while, it didn’t take long for your eyes to well up with happy tears. It made him crack a smile, too. “Which you’re obviously not going to do.”

“Course not,” you replied as you wiped your eyes. “And honestly, as much as I appreciate this,” you gestured around the messy kitchen and then at Eddie himself, “you need to take a shower.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna-“

“No,” you interjected simply and when it looked like Eddie was going to argue, you simply pressed your pointer finger on his lips to ensure that he kept silent. “No.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he mumbled against your finger. “This was supposed to be about you.”

“And I love it.” You pressed a kiss to his frosting stained cheek and could taste the vanilla. When you pulled away, his thumb wiped over your lips to clear the residue that was stuck to it away before sticking it into his mouth. “But I also like you clean and you are, and I’m sorry for saying this, a mess right now.”

“Thought you liked that,” he retorted with an accompanying wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I do yeah, but not when you’re covered in raw eggs, flour, cake batter and frosting.”

“Okay, okay, point taken,” he sighed deeply as he held his hands up to indicate that he was going to let it go. For now. “But I could always leave some of the edible bits on so you could lick them off later though,” he added with a wide and naughty grin.

“Absolutely not.” You pushed him out of the kitchen and in the direction of the bathroom. “If you want me to eat stuff off you, buy some Cool Whip.”

“Kinky!” Eddie laughed when your hand came down on his ass to give it a firm squeeze before he rounded the corner. “I’m not forgetting about that by the way,” he called out before closing the door behind him.

“Didn’t think you would,” you answered.

Part of you already knew that he’d run out to buy some the next morning and that at one point during the day you would end up finding him in the bedroom with the stuff lathered all over himself. You made a mental note to remember to put either a towel or a box of tissues in the bedroom tomorrow just in case, because you had a feeling that things could get messy.

But that was a problem for later. You had to deal with something else right now.

The kitchen was such a mess that you barely even knew where to begin, but the first thing that your eye fell on was a small notebook, one that Eddie always had on him, folded open to a page with a recipe that was written in handwriting that was much nicer than Eddie’s was, not to mention legible.

Chocolate cupcakes with vanilla buttercream frosting.

His little notebook was a closely guarded secret, something that your mortal eyes would not be able to comprehend (his words right before he had shielded it from you by holding a throw pillow in front of it). He used it to jot down notes for D&D campaigns, ideas that he got for lyrics, or whatever else that came to mind that he judged important enough to write down, so the fact that he used it for a recipe that he had procured for you was pretty meaningful.

This was quite possibly the sweetest thing that he had ever done, going through all this trouble for you by doing something that was completely alien to him, since he didn’t think that he was much of a cook. It wasn’t that he didn’t do it, it’s just that his repertoire seemed to be limited to heating up canned foods.

Lost in thought, you had barely even scratched the surface in concerns of the mess that Eddie had made, only managing to put several things in the sink and getting rid of the eggshells, when he reappeared again in a pair of black sweatpants with an old Iron Maiden shirt. If it wasn't for his wet hair, which was soaking the fabric of his shirt, you might have been inclined to think that he hadn’t washed himself at all.

“Did you just stick your head under the tap?”

“No. I took a shower, just like you asked.” He stepped in close enough so that you could smell the soap on his skin. “I just didn’t want you to clean my mess.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You always say that,” he groaned with obvious frustration. “Just let me do it.”

“We can do it together.” You held out a wet cloth to him, which he was eying reluctantly, simply because he felt that you weren’t supposed to help clean up the mess that he had made. “Is that a good compromise?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ for emphasis. “I insist.”

“So I basically have no choice.”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay, whatever.” Seeing that he had lost the discussion, he admitted defeat and finally took the cloth from your hands. “Help me clean then.”

Cleaning together was a lot faster than if he had gone at it alone and before you knew it, all the surfaces were wiped clean, the dishes had been done and were drying in the dish rack, and most importantly of all, the cupcakes were finally in the oven.

“See? That didn’t take too long, now did it?”

“You weren’t supposed to help though.”

That much was kind of made clear to you while the two of you were cleaning. There were little looks that Eddie threw in your direction, whenever he seemed to think that you weren’t looking, that seemed to indicate that he was less than pleased with your help. His expressions were also somewhat… pained at times? It didn’t make a lot of sense and only made you think about why he was even acting like this to begin with.

“I genuinely don’t mind. I wasn’t going to sit and watch you clean, you know that.” You took his hand, pulled him along in the direction of the couch and gestured at him to sit. “Now. What’s this about anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie immediately started fidgeting, even more so than usual, and his leg started bouncing anxiously. “I was trying to do something nice for you.”

Something was obviously bothering him. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate that he had done all this, because you really really did but there was a reason behind this and you’d keep picking at him all night if you had to.

“Excellent deflecting. I’ll get it out of you somehow,” you replied with certainty.

Leaving him on the couch, you stepped back into the kitchen to check the oven and to get something to drink. Eddie had even splurged on the soda by buying something that wasn’t store brand and therefore cheaper. It was amazing how he had managed to plan all of this without giving anything away.

“We appear to have run out of nice cups.” Instead you held up a red plastic cup that you found earlier in one of the cupboards. “So is this okay?”

“We don’t have any nice cups,” he replied without missing a beat.

“How dare you,” you clutched at your chest, pretending to be aghast at his statement. “That Star Wars cup is the best thing that we own.”

“Oh yeah, of course it is.” He rolled his eyes when you mentioned your favorite cup. You were always waving it in his face whenever you needed a quick laugh. “You’re just saying that because you have a thing for Han Solo.”

“You’re just jealous that they didn’t have one with Leia on it.” You handed him his drink and settled in next to him on the couch. Nudging your shoulder into him, you asked, “Now, tell me, why did you do all this?”

“Is it a crime to want to do something nice for you?”

“No, of course it’s n-”

“So why are you interrogating me?”

“Because I know you.”

Eddie avoided your gaze and ran a hand down his face, because of course you’d be able to tell. He knew that he should have thought up some convincing excuse beforehand, but it was too late for that now and the chances that he’d successfully make up something on the fly were practically nonexistent.

Silence fell and for a second there, you thought that he wouldn’t tell you at all, that he would end up brushing it off, as if he was embarrassed to tell you the real reason, which was simply ridiculous. So what was it?

“I wanted to impress you,” he finally admitted softly and pulled you out of your train of thought. “Just once.”

His confession bewildered you and you genuinely didn’t know what to say. You had no idea that he had even felt this way, but you obviously needed to mend this situation since your actions seemed to have inadvertently caused this.

You liked taking care of Eddie, perhaps a little bit too much, and it seemed to have caused him to think that you didn’t need his help at all, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“Eddie, that’s not- hey, look at me.” You cupped his face with your hands until his sad eyes, which were usually filled with so much warmth, finally focused back on you. “I’m already impressed.”

“You’re always looking after me, but I don’t do much,” he sighed dejectedly. “And I’m like the worst cook ever.”

"Aw, don't be like that. That’s not even true," you declared. “Your cooking is fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

“No one can make SpaghettiOs better than you can.”

“Ha, ha.” He tried to sound annoyed, but missed the mark completely when he (accidentally) laughed in earnest. It made him clear his throat in a very poor attempt to hide it. “Very funny.”

“Still made you laugh.” You poked a finger into one of his dimples until he jerked his head away with an even bigger grin than before. “I always like it when you make me breakfast.”

“That’s nothing special,” he shrugged. “Just buttered toast and fruit juice.”

“So? I like it just fine.” Seeing him act so dejectedly over feeling inadequate was breaking your heart and you felt like an idiot for never noticing it before. “Just take the compliment, please. You do enough. Trust me.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“You want me to give examples? Okay, how about when my car broke down and you dropped everything to come pick me up.” It was the first example that came to mind and you could see a spark of amusement in his eyes when you reminded him. “Dustin wouldn’t talk to me for about a week because I ruined your D&D night.”

“The little shit only forgave you when I threatened to kill off his bard,” he laughed. “As if I was going to leave my girl at some seedy gas station in the middle of the night.”

“It was nine, still light out, and mister Jenkins was fine with me hanging out with him until the tow truck showed up.”

“Of course he was fine with it. Have you seen you?” His hand came down on your thigh, giving you a soft squeeze, since the sheer memory of that night ignited a spark of possessiveness inside him. “I don’t trust him.”

“The man’s at least seventy, Eddie!”

“So?” He said very matter of factly, as if it made perfect sense for Eddie to act so territorial around someone that posed no threat whatsoever. “He’s still a guy and I didn’t like how he was looking at you when I got there.”

“Oh yeah? You’d beat up an old man to defend my honor?”

“Babe, I would beat anyone up to defend your honor.”

“And that’s how you take care of me,” you replied resolutely, because he had just proven your point. “You’d take on the whole world for me.”

“I have to. You’re my girl.” Hearing those words were enough to make your heart swell about three sizes in your chest and you managed to catch him off guard when you pressed your lips against his for a quick kiss. “What was that for?”

“For being you,” you sighed contentedly as you rested your head against his shoulder. “That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too.” He put his arm around you and attempted to pull you even closer into his side. “Let me try this again. How about a romantic evening with me, your loving boyfriend, while I fully intend to feed you the cupcakes that I made all by myself, and maybe then we can watch a movie?”

“What movie?”

He pressed his lips into your hairline, suddenly embarrassed, and mumbled, “A Room with a View.”

“Really?” It made you pull away from him, wide eyed and excited, so you could see his face and found that he was dead serious. “You didn’t!” you exclaimed in surprise.

“I did,” he confirmed. “You should have seen Harrington’s face.”

“It’s not really your kind of movie.” Eddie’s taste in movies was fairly unique to put it mildly. He had a penchant for loving the ones that were unbelievably bad. “You must have really shocked him for not renting something shittier.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Hard Rock Zombies.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned when you remembered that particular movie. “Or Slumber Party Massacre, which you called an ‘underrated classic’ if I recall correctly?”

“It is! My tastes are just too high end for you and I accepted that shortcoming in you years ago-“

“Hey!”

“Let me finish.” It was his turn to place his index finger over your lips to ensure your silence this time around. “So yeah, I could have rented one of those masterpieces, but I didn’t because this is your night and this one came highly recommended by Robin. So, babe, would you do me the honor of watching this movie with me?”

“I would love to.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a self satisfied smile. “So just sit here and look pretty while I get everything ready, okay?”

“I shall eagerly await your return.” Eddie took your hand, kissed the back of it and let it slip from his grasp as he went back to the kitchen. “You’re such a dork.”

“Your dork,” he corrected. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” you confirmed.

And you wouldn’t. He was your guy after all.

#the boy is mine #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #mar writes

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rootbeerworshiper · 2 months

Text

summer (part 3/3)

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

summery: Summer camp has always been your favourite thing, but as you enter you last year at the camp, as a councillor, you meet someone that changes everything.

warnings: smut!! also gut wrenching angst yall idk

i’m so sad this story is coming to an end :((

pt1 pt2

love, sienna <3

the past few days have been nothing short of amazing. it’s not like you to have so much hope for the future, but Matt changed everything.

every perception you had of love finally feels real. it feels like a chance for your life to finally be a movie, and this time your not a supporting character.

if you hadn’t known him for six days you’d say you’re in love, but that’s extremely soon—the two of you never even made anything official.

on one of your late night adventures you had brought up what happens after camp, when life goes back to being real.

immediately you were expecting to prepare for heartbreak, that he’d say something along the lines of you just being a summer fling and nothing more.

but Matt’s not like that, he constantly surprises you with how good of a human being he is.

there’s not much he can do with you in public other than stolen glances and mentions of inside jokes, but in private?

let’s just saw Matthew Sturniolo is a real romantic.

he always knows what to say to make you feel better if you get in your head, which happens embarrassingly often.

somehow he’s gotten your love language down to a tee, always saying the right things to get you flustered and always providing a comforting touch when needed.

you know that at the end of the day you can see him, you can cuddle in a hammock and rant about everything and anything.

it’s too soon to say (you know this) but he feels like your person. in a way that you never expected to find, especially not this soon.

there was a plan set in place. the two of you would keep touch while you go to school in boston and he gets a job with his uncle at an automobile shop fixing up old bikes.

yeah he’s also a biker, and all that information did was make you more into him, though he was scared shitless to tell you.

as much as you loved summer camp, you finally had a reason to be excited to go back home.

the two of you have established an insane amount of trust in six days—you’ve told him things about yourself that you’ve never told another soul, and he did the same to you.

it all feels so easy, but that’s because it is.

the relationship you two share (whatever it is) is simple. it never feels like you have to put in any effort to be a better version of yourself because he has told you countless times that you are enough.

and for once in your life, you began to believe it.

this leaves you to your last night with him at camp, the last night before the bus picks everyone up at three the next day.

the two of you are doing what you’ve been doing for the past week, laying in a hammock and speaking for the sake of hearing each others voice.

you lay comfortably on top of him, low enough that he can rest his chin on the top of your head. it’s the coldest night yet, a reminder that summer is coming to an end soon, but you’re still wearing flowy shorts and a hoodie that you drown in, attempting to savour summer while you can.

Matt’s wearing a dark green t-shirt and black sweats, in honour of it being the last day he’s given up on hiding his tattoos—that is more than okay with you because you love seeing as much of him as possible.

to you, he’s perfect in every way.

his long hands rest on your bare thighs as you speak, his thumb rubbing small circles on your inner thigh. you ignore how it makes you feel because to be honest you aren’t entirely sure what the feeling is. you were a virgin in every meaning of the word—this is all to say that you liked his hand placement, maybe more than you’d admit to anyone.

“what’s your favourite animal?” he asks, hands still gently caressing you as he speaks.

you furrow your eyebrows at the question, considering the two of you just had a long talk about mental health, it seems incredibly random. “what?”

he chuckles slightly, as if he was expecting that reaction from you. “i feel like we’ve told each other all the deep shit but i wanna learn the little fun facts about you”

your heart melts. again. he was a way of doing that to you. “i think my favourite animal is probably a beluga whale. they just look so happy all the time and i used to stay up at night when i was younger and watch literal whale documentaries”

it’s clear he can’t control the laugh that escapes his mouth at your answer so you slap his hand because it’s really the only part of him you have access to in this position. “fuck-“ he’s cut off by his own laughter once more, this time your laughing slightly too. “i just was expecting like a cat or something, not a very specific type of whale.”

“what’s yours then Matthew? a dog?” his breathing stops immediately which is easy to feel because his lungs are practically pressed up against you, causing you to be a walking lie detector test. “no fucking way you were making fun of me for mine when yours is a literal dog”

he gasps dramatically. “what’s wrong with dogs? what have they ever done to you?”

you smile cheesily. “i’m not a dog hater, just saying out of all the animals out there, they may not be the coolest animal.” it’s silent for a moment until you interrupt it to speak again. “do you have a dog back home?” you don’t know much about his home life, but it’s not something he loves to bring up.

“i do, his names Trevor he’s my man” somehow your smile grows. “when i was like twelve i taught him how to give me high-fives and now he’s pro”

“i need to meet him i’ll become his best friend” you say without thinking, you do love befriending dogs after all.

but Matt gasps behind you again. “are you trying to steal my dog from me?”

you roll your eyes, not that the boy above you can see. “you might be the sassiest man i’ve ever met”

“take that back right now” he jokingly squeezes your thigh, freezing in place in preparation for you to say what he’s expecting.

what he’s not expecting though?

the slight moan that somehow escapes your mouth. “fuck” you breath out before slapping your hand over your mouth.

you freeze because.

what the actual fuck just happened.

you know Matt won’t make fun of you, or at least it would be unlike him to, but that doesn’t make it less awkward. you can hear him gulp above you, great! this is just great.

you try your best to muster up an apology “sorry i don’t uh-“ what are you even meant to say when that happens? sorry you squeezing my thighs made me horny? that’s definitely not the route you were planning on taking.

“you want my hands?” he mumbled above you and you’re so incredibly unsure how to respond.

you’re stomach is filled with almost every emotion imaginable, fear, excitement, anxiety, lust. it’s all so confusing but clearly you take too long to respond because he talks again—this time returning to rubbing those small, teasing, circles on your thighs.

“i can make you feel good you just have to ask” you can’t have this conversation without looking at him, it’s too confusing to grasp what’s serious and what’s not.

so you look up to him, flipping your body slightly so your torso is twisted towards him. “i’ve never done anything, like ever in any capacity” you can tell your about to ramble and get your unable to stop yourself. “i mean making out with you was the furtherest i’ve ever gotten to-” you shake your head “you get the point”

he smiles, not a judging smile, not an empathetic smile, a new one. and you liked it. “do you want to do something? i don’t want to pressure you into anything your not comfortable with, we can pretend this conversation never happened”

you trust Matt, his reaction to this whole dumb situation only further proves that. “i think i maybe wanna try… try something i mean, i don’t plan on losing my virginity in this hammock no offence” you place your hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, the position you are currently in is definitely not comfortable.

“i want whatever you want” his response is simple but still makes you woozy.

it’s awkward to explain what you want, so you kiss him, because that’s the easiest thing for you, and you really like kissing him.

he immediately kisses back and moves his hands to your sides making you pull off out of shock.

but you know what the boys about to say when he drops his hands. “no Matt i liked it”

you pick his hands up and place them back on yourself, leaning back into the kiss. for a moment you do just that, you kiss. your body still wants more and you grow sick of fighting with it. “you’re comfortable with whatever yeah?” you ask the moment you pull off the boy again, in a way it’s easier if you take the lead, to avoid anything happening out of your comfort zone.

Matt just nods, about to speak when you take his hands on your sides and guide them to your chest. you breathe out in pleasure, the smallest touch already making you feel insane. he squeezes gently through your hoodie, reaching in to kiss you again.

the kiss is more intimate this time, but you physically cannot stay in your current position any longer, simply because you are not a contortionist. so you lay back in your original spot, Matt’s hands still making the same small circles he made earlier, now on your clothes nipples as opposed to your thigh.

you fight the urge to moan out, mostly because it’s embarrassing how touch starved you are, but also because if someone heard you you would simply jump into the lake and drown.

he seems content with his hands there, and as good as it feels you want more. “Matt” you say quietly, lowering his hands to your lower stomach, you start shifting up slightly so that you are in reach of his hands.

“have you had an orgasam before?”

“Matt!” you whisper yell at the boy, dumbfounded by the question.

“well sorry but i think it’s relevant to know by now, you might already know what you like or don’t like and i want you to enjoy this” it’s insane how he can be so sweet even in a setting such as this.

you sigh, he is right, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. “no..”

his fingers toy with the strings on your shorts as he speaks. “that’s okay i’m not gonna judge you, i’ll just go slow then yeah?” you nod. “and if you don’t like something you need to tell me, i won’t be mad. you deserve to feel good”

“okay, i trust you” the boy could melt at that sentence alone but remains composed, his hands now trailing lower—slowly making there way to the spot on your body that is literally throbbing. “please Matt”

that sentence was enough for his fingers to make contact, applying a gentle pressure to your clit through your shorts. you can’t even hold back the whimper that escapes your lips. “feels good yeah?” his fingers revert back to those same circles, the amount of pressure he’s placing is intoxicating.

he uses his whole hand to fully cup you, fingers feeling your entrance through your favourite shorts that are now…soaked. “your body’s telling me you like it but i want you to tell me”

“fuck i like it, i want more” you breath out.

you can hear him chuckle behind you at your neediness, but ultimately he lifts his hand and begins slowly moving his fingers into your shorts. at this point your frustrated, you have never been an overly sexual person but something about Matt has you feral, and he’s sitting here and teasing you. “Matt i swear to god if you don’t stick your fingers inside of me i’m gonna do it myself” he breaths out another laugh.

“okay baby i’ll stop teasing” he kisses the top of your head as his hand makes its way into your underwear. “i’m not giving in that easily next time” this catches you off guard, but it is fair to assume there will be a next time, eventually.

he teases your bare clit slightly as his fingers reach for the wetness pooled up to spread over your folds—now you’re moaning for real.

he brings his left hand to your mouth, gently covering it with his index finger. “shh” it’s ironic he’s saying that because his right fingers have focused back onto your puffy clit and you’re literally squirming under his touch.

Amara never talked about it feeling this good.

he continues his circles on your clit and you’re a whimpering mess, your body bucking up for more. “baby don’t do that”

at first you were confused as to why he said that, that is until you fully felt him beneath you, and all of a sudden it makes sense why he’d want you still.

you just made the poor boy hard and now your shifting your body directly on top of him.

“how do you feel right now? still good?” he whispers practically directly in your ear, and somehow even though he was only talking, it made every movement of his fingers feel better.

“keep talking” you breath out, you didn’t realize it could feel so good without anything inside of you but here you are.

he furrows his eyebrows. “what?”

this kid literally makes you spell everything out for him. “i like your voice, keep talking”

he chuckles again from above you, and if you weren’t in such a vulnerable position you’d slap him. “you still want my fingers inside of you?” his pressure on your clit increases, along with the speed of his circles—it’s as if he’s doing purposely to make speaking coherent sentences difficult for you.

with his hand gone from your mouth you bring your own up to your lips to muffle the moans escaping you. taking a moment to compose yourself while his speed remains the same. “mm please”

he starts with one finger , thumb now taking over on your clit—thank god for that because one finger already fills you up. you’re just confused where the pleasure is supposed to come from this, in the smut you read they don’t really specify when it’s supposed to-fuck. the pleasure definitely comes from the curling of his fingers, definitely.

Matt speaks again, and thank god he does because his voice literally makes you wet. “keep your hand on your mouth baby”

you’re gone. absolutely spent. normally, you’d question him, but all you want right now is to chase your pleasure, so you oblige. “you want another finger?” you nod, unable to speak without whimpering mid sentence. the second finger is definitely an adjustment, but one your grateful for because the feeling of two fingers hitting you g-spot simultaneously is so-

his left hand snakes up your shirt while the speed of his fingers curling has you moaning into your hand. you definitely didn’t wear a nice bra, you don’t own any because before you met Matt you had no reason to. but it’s hard to not focus on that as his hand slides under your sports bra, fingers brushing over your perked up nipple.

between his thumbs pressure on your sensitive clit, his long fingers curling into you at a dangerous pace and his fingers placing delicate touches to your nipple—it literally feels like heaven.

“Matt i-“ you cant even finish your sentence, overcome by pleasure again.

“yeah feels so good huh? you like the way my fingers make you feel?” you stay silent underneath him as he talks, you think you’re close but have no real way of knowing that. “you’re so perfect for me”

somehow, that’s what send you.

he picks up his pace as your stomach clenches and your legs squeeze together—it’s like you have no control over your own body in this moment.

the pressure your own hand has to place on top of your lips to avoid any noise escaping is crazy and you’re sure it’s not a pretty sight—Matt would beg to differ. “there you go just like that pretty girl, all over my fingers”

he slows down now, taking his hand out from inside of you and spreading your release over your clit. you can’t help but shiver under his touch, and you’re sure if you could see him right now he’d be wearing a proud smirk as he licks his fingers clean.

“that was way better than i expected holy shit” you giggle softly underneath him.

his heart could melt at that laugh—if that was the only laugh he could hear for the rest of his life he’d be more than happy. “you had bad expectations for me or what?” he jokes.

“fuck off i was complimenting you. maybe you didn’t deserve it” you respond, rolling your eyes yet again.

his response is to pull you up so your face is next to him. the tension that forms immediately is crazy, both of you remaining eye contact while you catch your breath. it’s clear he has something on his mind but you aren’t sure what. “Matt”

“y/n” he smiles slightly, as if saying your name was enough to bring him joy.

you sigh. “what are you thinking about right now?”

if he was being entirely honest he’d say he’s falling for you, but he can’t be the first to admit it, especially not after 6 days of meeting you. “i just don’t wanna leave you” you frown slightly, not because it’s a sad sentence but because of how much you needed to hear that. “i wish we could stay here forever, just like this” his hand finds your own, toying with your fingers as he speaks.

“just because camps over doesn’t mean we’re over, you know that right?” you bite your lip, waiting for a response from the fluffy haired boy.

except you don’t get a response right away and you’re met with more silence as you see the thoughts course through his head. “Matthew”

“will you be my girlfriend?” he looks so incredibly nervous although to you the answer is obvious.

an uncontrollable grin forms on your face before you can even answer the anxious boy. “yes obviously i will be your girlfriend” you kiss him before he can even reply, cupping his face with your hands because you’ll never be close enough to him.

he pulls back with a smile on his face. “i was scared”

“you are just a goof” you bring your hands up to toy with his hair. “we do need to go back though”

he frowns dramatically “nooooo” his head dips to your chest, hiding his face.

“cmon tough guy we’ll see each other tomorrow” you giggle.

“it won’t be like this though” he groans when you give a him a look of annoyance. “okay fine you go ahead without me i’ll come soon.”

you furrow your eyebrows at the boy “why can’t we go together?”

embarrassment encases his face. “can’t really walk into a cabin full of kids with a tent in my pants”

you’re confused at first, until your eyes trail down and- he is not wrong. “you sure you don’t want my help?”

he laughs. “you have done more than enough pretty girl, go be a good camp councillor i’ll be fine”

pretty girl.

you were really okay with that nickname replacing your old one.

after a moment of silence, you kiss him one more time, savouring the taste of his lips on your own, the way his mouth encapsulates yours. “goodnight”

he smiles. “goodnight baby i’ll see you tomorrow”

_______________________________________________

you didn’t need your alarm to wake you up this morning, instead you had a bunch of nine year old girls who are excited to see their parents to do that for you.

as thrilled as they all are, you can’t help but feel a pit in your stomach.

camp is over.

you just finished your last year and you are never coming back. no more helping kids tie their shoes and apply sunscreen. no more sneaking out at night to hangout with Matt and telling him everything.

it’s over, this is the final day and after this you’ll become a full time college student working towards a degree.

soon you’ll be struggling with managing your time, barely having enough money for meals and going out with Matt any chance you get.

the pit in your stomach only increases when you make eye contact with Amara at breakfast.

the two of you haven’t spoken since the night you fought and honestly, you missed her.

it’s so easy to focus on the negatives of a person that it clouds all the incredible positives they provide.

she was your rock. she knows almost everything about you and she’s been with you through everything.

without her you wouldn’t have meals brought to your room after your mom passed, and you wouldn’t of known how to kiss. she was your sister, and right now you feel like a stranger to her.

breakfast wraps up and leaves the kids to pack.

it’s all hectic and overwhelming, trying to re-roll sleeping bags and look for lost items.

another camp councillor offers to help and you take that as you chance to “go to the bathroom” but instead you were going to make things right with your best friend.

you knew you weren’t entirely in the right, you had kind of blown up on Amara when in reality she couldn’t have known what was happening in your life. maybe she didn’t ask, but you also didn’t tell her, and to the two of you, that’s just as bad.

so you make your way to the vicinity of her cabin to see her campers all playing on the iconic camp swing while she kicks dirt.

you’ve never seen someone as amazing as Amara look so incredibly lonely. “hey” you muster up the courage to speak to her. it’s uncomfortable but you can tell you both need it.

“hi” she sighs, and to be honest it’s hard to tell if it’s a sigh of empathy towards you are just general sadness for the situation at hand.

“can we talk? in your cabin maybe?” she nods in response, tight lipped as you make your way over to the log building.

the walk is short but hopeful. when you arrive at her cabin you each take a seat on a bunk bed, sitting alongside each other as you gather your thoughts.

“i’m sorry that-“

“i never meant to-“

the two of you speak at the same time but she motions at you. “you go first”

why was this so hard?

“i’m sorry for snapping at you. i got so insanely immaturely jealous of you and so sick of you turning down every boy and it was stupid and childish and-“ you breathe out as you are interrupted.

“i like girls” she has a look of terror in her eyes as she speaks.

after a short moment of silence you speak “you what?”

“i spent so much time trying to appease the male gaze and i was always so confused why it was never fulfilling when i got with a guy, and why i was turned off so quickly you know?” you nod, waiting eagerly for her to continue. “i think i’ve always liked girls i just didn’t have it figured out until a few months ago. and part of me was so mad at myself that i just thought i could repress it and keep getting with guys and if i find the right guy then maybe it won’t be so difficult but then i found the right girl.” you smile.

you grab her hands as a smile now forms on her face as well. “well what’s she like?”

she lets out a deep breath, like a massive weight has just been lifted off her shoulder. “she’s confident and she’s beautiful and she’s so incredibly kind, more kind then i could ever be. and she always smells like vanilla, not musky cologne but vanilla.”

“Amara i’m so happy for you. you never have to hide anything from me ever i love you so much and i always want what’s best for you. it’s part of why i was so annoyed at your lack of commitment to some great boys because i just wanted you to be happy and loved. but now you will be and that means the world to me”

“so you’re cool with it yeah?” she asks, moving her eyes from off the floor.

“i love you Amara. i love whatever you throw at me and anything that makes you you, i’m in full support”

the two of you fight the urge to cry, well you fight the urge better than her but when she pulls you into a hug you’re both a crying mess.

after a while you both pull back and wipe the tears that just streamed down your red cheeks. “so” she sniffles. “what’s going on with you and that Matt boy?”

“Amara don’t judge him” you roll your eyes.

“i’m sorry he’s just not my type what can i say?” she giggles. “but for real, are you guys a thing?”

you smile like a kid. you had been so excited to tell Amara everything and it’s been killing you that you haven’t been able to gush over your boy.

“he might be my boyfriend” you cover your face with you hands, a smile forming on your face and she playfully smacks your arm.

“no fucking way! how did that even happen? i want every single detail”

and so she gets just that.

how the two of you met. the tension filled eye contact that turned into long talks in the hammock. how you felt kissing him for the first time. your experience last night in said hammock. how much he understands you.

everything. and she is more than happy for you.

“i just can’t believe you were fingered in a hammock. like that’s crazier than some of the shit that i’ve done. i don’t know if i’m proud or disappointed”

“both?”

“he sounds really amazing. i’m happy you found someone that you get to experience that kind of stuff with, out of anyone you deserved it” she squeezes your hands.

this is exactly what you needed and you finally feel whole again. “i missed you”

“trust me i missed you more y/n. let’s get ready to go home yeah?” she stands up off the bunk bed, motioning for you to stand up with her.

“yeah” you use her hand to help you up as the two of you exit the cabin with bright smiles and a new sense of hope.

it’s all okay again.

_______________________________________________

parents begin showing up and one by one the amount of kids left at camp lessens.

you also see Matt again and you couldn’t be more happy. he was finally properly introduced to Amara and although they jokingly hate each other you can tell they get along and that just fills your heart.

“Matt did y/n not tell you about what happened in grade six? it was character development at its finest” Amara giggles. the three of you are waiting at the dock for the bus and Matt’s parents to arrive.

its a cloudy day, slight mist coming from the sky as the wind gently blows the leaves on the trees surrounding you.

he laughs. “she absolutely did not i need to-“ Matt’s phone begins ringing and he reaches for his pocket before checking the name. “sorry one second i gotta take this”

his demeanour is different now, more heightened as he walks off to answer the call.

“y/n the bus is here” Amara points at the dirt road with a big yellow school bus driving into camp.

you don’t want to leave without a proper “see you later” to Matt.

“just wait up for me i’ll be there in a sec!” you smile as she walks off, your feet dangling from the dock happily while you wait for your boyfriend to come back.

it’s peaceful like this. the occasional fish jumping in and out of the water, the birds chirping in the distance.

it begins to rain slightly but you don’t care. rain has always been something you enjoyed. whether it’s the smell or the rainbow that shows up after, you’re in love with it.

it’s unfortunate that you have to say bye to the boy, but the moment the two of you got your phones back you placed one another’s numbers in there so that you don’t have to wait till you see each other again to speak.

never in a million years did you think you’d meet someone like Matt. someone as caring and considerate, someone as mature and goofy.

he was yours and you were his and that would always be enough for you.

you hear footsteps approaching in the distance so you stand up on the dock as Matt makes his way over.

the rains more heavy at this point but you care more about the boy in front of you than the weather.

immediately you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, but he doesn’t kiss back, his lips remaining stagnant.

instead he looks at you with a look of pure hopelessness on his face while he bites his lip. your eyebrows furrow and you pull away completely. “Matt what happened?”

he squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s unable to face the situation at hand. his lip quivering as he speaks.

“my parents are sending me to military school”

oh.

none of this makes sense. he chose camp. he had a choice and he decided against getting sent away. he’s almost eighteen i mean can they really do that?

a tear rolls down his cheek and suddenly it all feels so real. the pit in your stomach is back.

“how can they do that? you’re almost eighteen Matt” he shakes his head, using his finger tips to massage his temples.

“it’s uh” he struggles to get the words out. “it’s a program for young criminals that the government sets up. my parents spoke with the system and after they found more dirt on me they decided it was for the best”

you shake your head aggressively. as if you’ll be able to shake away whatever the fuck is going on. “they can’t do that. they can’t take you from me, this isn’t”you’re own tears well up now as you take a deep breath. “Matt”

he pulls you into him. his hands holding your head as you cry into his sweater. “i’m so sorry. i’m sorry i’m a fuck up, im sorry i’m putting you through this, i’m sorry that i fell in love with you”

the love word.

it’s a word that’s thrown around a lot now. sure, everyone knows it has meaning, but hearing it from Matt’s mouth? you’re heart just broke.

your heart broke at a boy confessing his love to you.

nothing about this situation is fair. he was grieving his best friend and took out his anger on the world.

he’s not a bad person. he never was.

not even when he first met you and didn’t offer you a hand, not when he gave you dirty looks across the dining hall, and not when he committed literal crimes.

Matt is good. he is so full of good and now he’s being punished. as if he hasn’t been through enough.

“what?” you pull back, looking into his eyes for an answer as the rain pours over your hair, causing slight curls to form.

“sorry it slipped out i just-“

you kiss him. you kiss him as if you’ll never kiss him again. as if you’re starving for his lips on your own. and he kisses back the same, his hands cupping your cheeks as your lips move in a rhythm you’ve grown accustomed to.

you’re out of breath as you pull out. “i fell in love with you too, Matt. i fell so in love with you in seven days because you are a good human. you care about others, and you think about things that pass over most peoples heads. you are so fucking amazing in every way and i rack my brain every night trying to figure out how i got so lucky”

as much as he’d love to smile at the reciprocation of your feelings, it only brings him more sadness because he knows what’s inevitable. “y/n please”

“you deserve every good thing coming your way. none of the shit that’s happened to you is fair, none of it.” you keep going. every positive thought you’ve ever had about it boy is pouring out of your mouth as a mixture of rain and tears cost your eyelashes.

“fuck y/n stop!” he raises his voice at you. “please don’t make this harder than it already is.” you flinch.

you’ve never seen Matt get actually mad.

“i’m sorry i just- i can’t keep losing people i love. it kills me” you take a deep breath. all anger is rooted in sadness. Matt is no different.

you gently grab his hands and look him dead in the eye. “you are not losing me. i don’t care if i have to wait a year to speak to you again i am yours. i am completely and utterly yours and i’m not going anywhere. you can’t push me away”

“you deserve someone better. someone who’s not constantly being burdened by stupid decisions. you deserve someone you can take home to your dad and be proud of” he sighs as his nostrils flair.

he just looks so incredibly hurt and it kills you.

“Matt. i have that person. i have you and it’s all that i want. whatever you did in this singular week made me so obsessed with you and that will not go away”

his lips quivers again. “what do i do y/n?” a tear prickles down his eye onto his eye as he looks at you. “i’m not a bad kid i can’t go there it’s all too much” he breaks down. his head now in the crook of your neck as you play with his hair.

“look at me Matt” you lift his head up to make eye contact. “you are so strong. everything will be okay. you’re gonna tough it out at whatever fucking institution they send you to and when you come back your gonna fix bikes yeah? you’re gonna fix bikes while i work on becoming a writer and we’re gonna be happy.”

“yeah okay” he forces a slight smile. “thank you. you’ve taught me so much about myself in the span of seven days that i don’t think i would’ve figured out without you.”

“okay pretty boy enough sad shit i don’t wanna end this on a bad note” you peck his lips with a forced smile on your face. “plus i think you’d look really hot in a military outfit”

“yeah?”

“hell yeah”

and with that you begin your walk to the bus with Matt alongside you. Amara had already packed your stuff into the bus and Matt’s parents had called him while they were taking his stuff out of his cabin.

you have to part ways. and it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.

the two of you stand, hand in hand in the rain. “Matt?” he squeezes your hands, not wanting to let you go. “i’ll see you later yeah?”

he nods. “you will”

you force yourself to let go and begin walking towards the yellow bus. not without looking back to see the boy already looking at you.

stepping foot on the bus is one of the hardest things you’ve had to do. one foot in front of the other. it’s simple but so impossible right now.

Amara can sense the sadness on your face as you sit next to her and the bus begins moving.

she doesn’t say anything and you don’t either. you can’t muster up the courage to speak without crying. so you place your head on her shoulder and she rests her head on your own.

camp is over.

and everything has changed.

a/n: LOLLLLL get fucked!! jk i’m so sorry if this caused u sadness i almost cried while writing it BUT there will be an epilogue so this is not the end of them!

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #WAHHHHH

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wwinterwitch · 2 years

Text

the film (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: after finding a very interesting movie in eddie's trailer, you can't help but point out a very important detail...you and the girl on the tv look exactly alike.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4,678

requested?: yes

warnings/what to expect: SMUT (18+ MDNI), bestfriend!eddie, descriptions of a porn video, reader has glasses, teasing, kissing, dry humping, dirty talk, glasses kink i guess, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, facial (yk), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, protected sex (yay!), praise, daddy kink, also gif's not mine

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

main masterlist | stranger things masterlist

Like any other Friday night you found yourself laying in Eddie's bed, listening to him compose new music for his band. The scene has to be the best way to end the week. Watching Eddie play his guitar, half of his hair up in a bun while half fell loosely to his shoulders, the short sleeved t-shirt he was wearing did little to no attempt to cover his arms...

God, you love Fridays.

But your show was interrupted when Eddie stopped playing, unplugging his guitar before hanging it on the wall where it usually is before joining you on the bed. Both of you were with your backs against the mattress, looking up at the ceiling of Eddie's room.

"You're staying the night?" he asks.

It wasn't unusual for you to spend the night at Eddie's house. The two of you have been best friends since you were little, so sleepovers were a recurrent thing. Your parents love Eddie, Uncle Wayne loves you. You're always welcomed to stay, just like Eddie is always welcomed to stay at your house.

And unlike what most people would think, nothing has ever happened between you and Eddie. Not once in all your years of friendship.

Not like you haven't thought of something happening. Because you have. Far too many times.

You can't deny that even though you enjoy spending time with him, it's gets harder and harder to pretend like sleeping next to him isn't driving you insane. Because you can't do anything but lay there. You can't move closer, you can't touch him. You can't tangle your fingers in his hair and whimper next to his ear while he's fingering you underneath the covers, trying your best to stay quiet because your parents are sleeping in the room at the end of the hallway. All of that lives hidden inside your mind.

"Maybe," was your reply, still not entirely sure if his company is worth spending yet another night craving him. "Why?"

"I need to make a quick delivery down the block. I wanted to know if I needed to take my van or not, in case I needed to give you a ride home."

"Wasn't planning on leaving yet."

"Good," was his reply, that hint of a flirtatious tone in his voice, but the glimpse of it wasn't strong enough to let yourself believe he's actually flirting. Eddie stood up to walk over to his desk, the familiar lunchbox placed there. He took out a few bags before putting on his usual leather jacket and putting the bags inside the pockets. "Wanna go with me?"

"I'd rather stay here."

"Fine. Try not to burn my house down."

With that said, Eddie walked out of his bedroom. Shortly after, you heard the front door of the trailer opening and closing, meaning you're completely alone now.

You rolled to your side on his bed, getting into a much comfortable position. The small TV in one corner of his room catches your attention, and you figure you could watch something until he gets back. The remote control was on top of his nightstand, but shortly after trying to turn the TV on a couple of times you realized it wasn't working.

Sighing, you stood up from the bed and began pushing the little button that should turn the artifact on, but nothing was happening. The solution to your current problem appeared before you when you kneeled down to check the cable, realizing it was disconnected.

As soon as you plug the TV, you hear a series of loud moans coming from it. You jumped slightly at the sudden sound, your cheeks starting to burn a little when you realize what is going on.

Eddie forgot he had a porn film playing. Maybe he had to unplug the damn thing in order to avoid getting caught watching that. Was it Uncle Wayne the one that almost discovered him or was it you?

But before your mind could drift entirely that way, you focus on another much important manner that requires your immediate attention the moment your eyes land on the screen and witness what is going on. There, you see a woman kneeling in front of the guy that's filming her, a close-up to her face as she begins sucking the guy's dick...she looks exactly like you.

You were kinda shocked to see just how similar this person is to you. Same hair color, same eye color, same nose...even the same pair of glasses you wear. Could this be...? No way. Is...Eddie watching a porn film with an actress that looks just like you?

Fuck.

You were unsure if you wanted to watch the rest or not. Has he watched it more than once or was this the first time he's seen it? It was already halfway in so most definitely he has seen enough. Doesn't he realize how similar you and the actress are? Or did he get this film because you and the actress are very similar?

After hearing the woman moaning around the guy's dick for another few seconds, you finally decided to pause the video and turn off the TV as if nothing happened, going back to the bed and deciding to stay there. Maybe it's better if you don't touch anything else.

When Eddie got back, you were staring at the ceiling while laying on your back. He smiled your way, taking his jacket off and putting the money he got for the drugs in a safe place.

"You've been there the whole time doing nothing?" he asks jokingly, his back facing you while he counts a few dollars before closing the little box where he kept his money.

"Mostly," was your reply, failing to hold back the smirk forming on your lips.

"What does that mean?" he insisted, finally turning to look at you. The look on his face let you know he has absolutely no idea where this is going.

You were quiet for a few seconds before turning to point at the TV. "I tried watching cartoons..."

When your attention was back on Eddie, he looked absolutely mortified. His cheeks were red and he looked panicked, opening his mouth to say something but closing it when he realized he couldn't find something to say.

"Those weren't cartoons..." you teased him even further.

"You– I...How much did you watch?" he asked, walking towards the TV and staring at it, knowing there's nothing he can do now to prevent you from watching that movie.

"Not much," you replied, shrugging despite him once again not looking at you. "But it was interesting..."

"What? Why?" he blurts out nervously, turning to face you. "What's interesting?"

You can tell Eddie is mortified. His cheeks are still burning red and he's frantically moving his arms around when he speaks. He only gestures this much when he's nervous.

"Actually, I don't think I want to know," he added right after.

"It's a good thing...I think."

He somehow looks even more frustrated. You didn’t think that was possible. "You think?"

"Depends on what your answer is."

That comment certainly made Eddie more interested, stopping to protest about how uncomfortable he was to really think about what could happen next. If you say it depends on his answer...

"What is it?" he eventually asks.

Him being cooperative made you smile, sitting up on the bed, legs crossed and hands resting against the mattress at each side of you. "If I tell you the question, you must answer. And no lies!"

"Sure, okay," he dismisses it, curious to know what you had in mind.

You doubted yourself for a second before finally asking the one question that kept playing over and over in your head since you saw that movie. "The woman in that film...does she happen to look like me or was that the idea?"

Eddie scoffed, immediately shaking his head. "Nope! Nope! Not answering that!"

"You said–!"

"I didn't know that was the question!"

"Well...your reaction kind of answers it perfectly, anyway," you commented.

He looks ever more defeated, too self-aware to try to come on top in this situation, knowing he couldn't save himself. He was watching a porn film with an actress that looks exactly like you and you noticed. You know he jerks off watching someone that resembles you getting fucked over and over again, wishing that was actually you being completely wrecked by him.

There's no way he's winning this one.

"Why are you doing this?" he gave up, taking a seat at the very edge of his bed. "It's enough knowing you watched the damn thing, I don't need you teasing me about it."

"I'm not teasing you, Eds," was your reply, crawling to where he was. "Well, I was. But not in a bad way..."

Eddie leans back just slightly when he notices the way you crawl on top of him, sitting on his lap with one leg at each side of his body. A hand rests at the back of his neck, the other carefully traces up and down his sleeveless t-shirt.

His hands instinctively rest at each of your thighs as he watches you. The gesture makes you smile, leaning closer to him. His breath catches in his throat when he feels you moving on top of him, knowing you did that on purpose. The feeling of your pants rubbing against his black jeans wasn't nearly enough to help you ease the growing ache in between your thighs, but at least it was something.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm actually flattered."

"You...you are?" he asks in disbelief.

You nod, the smile never fading as you move slightly closer, your face too close to his. He immediately wraps an arm around your lower back hoping that would make you stay right there, your noses practically touching at that point.

"Yeah. I mean, why wouldn't I like knowing you touch yourself thinking about me?" you asked innocently. "Because that's what you do, right?"

"Yeah...All the time," he was barely able to say, too focused on the fact that you were straddling him, your hips once again moving just enough to tease him. And you made sure to look at him as if you had no idea what your movements on top of him were doing to his body and mind. Like this wasn't driving him insane.

"Say it for me, please."

Eddie practically moans at your request. "I jerk off thinking about you."

"Yeah? And you think about all the stuff you could be doing to me if I was there with you?"

He nods after your question, silently begging for you to lean down and kiss him at this point. Or for you to start moving your hips faster. Or both. Both would be great, but either would be enough for now.

"Would you like to show me, Eddie?" you ask again, eager for this to escalate already.

"Can I show you?" he practically repeats, unable to still fully comprehend how did he managed to be in this situation with you on top of him, asking if he can fuck you like the many times he had fantasized about it. It's too good to be true.

"I'd love that," you reply, as if the fact that you started rocking your hips faster wasn't enough of an answer.

Just right after you said those words, you lean down and finally crash your lips against his. The second you're kissing him, Eddie loses all self control he had left, immediately starting to kiss you back as his hands gently grab your ass, forcing you to speed up your movements on top of him.

The kiss deepens, your tongue meeting his as the two of you continue to make out. You could feel his pants becoming tighter underneath you, letting you know how much Eddie was enjoying this.

You eventually move back from the kiss and, much to Eddie's discomfort, you get back on your feet and take a few steps back from the bed. Just before Eddie could protest about you being so far away from him, he stays quiet when he notices your hands grabbing the end of your shirt, pulling it over your shoulders and off your body.

It made you feel exposed, but you can't deny how much you enjoy having his attention. To know his eyes are scanning your body and the more he does the more turned on he gets. To watch him having to fix the fit of his jeans because it was almost impossible to keep them on with the boner he currently has. And you're the one to blame for that.

He watches as you reach to your back, getting rid of your bra too. The item of clothing fell to the floor at your feet but Eddie couldn't care any less about that, as he was way too focused on your now exposed chest.

Eddie was standing in front of you in no time, taking his shirt off and throwing it somewhere before capturing your lips again in a heated kiss while his hands cupped your tits. They were cold, making you hiss against the touch, but somehow it made it that much enjoyable.

Moans would leave your mouth anytime Eddie would pinch one of your nipples, gently twisting them with his fingers before massaging your tits however he wanted. Your sounds were muffled almost entirely against Eddie's lips.

You only broke the kiss so you could look at him, not wanting to miss his reaction the moment you got on your knees in front of him, your fingers tracing down his body until meeting his belt. Eddie's eyes got darker in anticipation, his mouth slightly agape as his breaths became heavier, watching you unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants before sliding them down his legs.

His underwear was still in the way, his erection more evident than ever now. He breathes out slowly the second he feels your hand palming him. The reaction makes you smirk, slowly tracing your fingers up to his hips, grabbing his underwear in an even slower gesture just to tease him a little bit more. You can tell Eddie is frustrated, his hips involuntarily rocking closer to you and his body tensing just enough.

But you finally decide to show him mercy, sliding his underwear down to expose his already fully-erect cock. You bit your lip at the image in front of you, once again looking up at Eddie with a smirk. The way you just looked at him nearly drove him insane, grabbing a fistful of your hair to guide you closer to him.

You gladly take him inside your mouth, all at once first before focusing exclusively on his tip, only to fill your mouth with every inch of him that could fit one more time, repeating the process. And you didn't care about being too messy or too loud, which encouraged Eddie to rock his hips faster. That, and the fact that you kept looking up at him through your glasses with a doe-eyed look while continuing to take him inside your mouth.

"Fuck, baby..." he grunts, gripping your hair tighter. "Your mouth feels so good...look so pretty like that with my dick down your throat."

You moan around him, loving to be praised like that for what you were doing. One of your hands travels under your sweatpants and panties, your fingers starting to rub hurried circles on your clit.

Eddie noticed the gesture. "Touching yourself while you suck me off, hmm? Can't wait to play with that pretty pussy of yours."

He continued to thrust in and out of your mouth, you meeting his movements halfway by bobbing your head. At the speed you two were going, the scene got messier and much louder, his dick coated with your saliva.

You knew Eddie was getting closer and closer, his moans increasing and his eyebrows furrowing closer together with each series of thrusts.

Eventually, you took him out of your mouth to start pumping him, wanting him to cum all over your face. It didn't take long for Eddie to do exactly that, his cum falling predominantly inside your mouth and over your glasses.

"You're beautiful," Eddie compliments you, the image of you still on your knees with his cum all over your face being his new favorite things in the entire world.

He watches you swallow what fell inside your mouth, using your fingers to clean around your chin before he walked over to his dresser to grab a few tissues so you could clean yourself. You take a few tissues for your face before removing your glasses, trying your best to clean them as much as possible before rubbing the glasses against the fabric of your sweatpants in an effort to clean them even further, making the stains disappear much better.

When you get on your feet and put your glasses on again, Eddie grabs your face with both of his hands and pulls you in for a heated, passionate kiss. Your tongues meet almost instantly and you moan into his mouth when his hands leave your face to grab your ass instead, squeezing the flesh there.

"I really made a mess on you, huh?" he mutters after pulling away from you, looking down to see a few ropes of cum still dripping down your chest. Just when you were about to move back to clean properly, he grabs both of your arms to stop you from walking away. "It's okay, I can clean it for you."

You lean your head back when you feel his tongue tracing its way across your body, making sure to clean everything off you. When he was done, you were quick to pull him in for yet another kiss, appreciative of him for helping.

Eddie guides you to the edge of his bed and you only move back from the kiss to lay down, gladly accepting his kiss again when he's positioned on top of you. His hands immediately start pulling your sweatpants down your legs and you allow him, lifting your hips from the mattress so he can easily get rid of them.

You're forced to move away from his lips when you feel his fingers touching you, his hand making its way inside your panties and his fingers already in contact with your clit. He rubs his fingers in slow circles, his head moving to hide his face in the crook of your neck.

"So wet for me already," he whispers. "Should we get rid of your panties?"

"Yeah," you reply, nodding eagerly. Eddie starts kissing your neck while his hands take care of removing your underwear. You feel him smile against your skin when you spread your legs wider for him, needing to feel his touch again.

Two of his fingers trace down your pussy until they reach your hole, slowly entering you as you let out a moan at the sensation. He pulls them out of you only to thrust inside of you again, this time faster, curling his fingers inside you.

He moves back from your neck so he can look at you, watching your face while he continues to finger you, smirking every time he would curl his fingers because he knows how much you enjoy the feeling just by the way you react whenever he does it. Your breathing would become heavier, your mouth would open wider, your hips would rock slightly faster.

"You like that?" he asks. "Tell me how good it feels."

"It feels so good, Eddie," you whimper, needing him to move faster already. You grab the back of his neck to pull him closer to your face again. "Faster," you whisper, your lips practically touching his. He increased the speed like you requested. "Shit, like that...keep doing that."

"Is this better for you?" he insisted, wanting to hear you express what he's making you feel as much as he possibly could.

"Yes."

"Are you gonna cum all over my fingers?"

You really tried not to lean your head back into the pillow, enjoying your face so close to his as he continues to say all these things to you. "Uh-huh."

He continued to make out with you right after that, fingering you impossibly faster now. The muffled sound of your moans encouraged him to keep that pace, knowing that meant you'll soon reach your orgasm.

You can feel him rocking his hips against one side of your body, already getting hard again with the sensation of his fingers moving in and out of you, your pussy just so wet all around him.

Eddie uses his thumb to take care of your aching clit while his fingers repeatedly curl inside you, making you grind your hips against him desperately. He moves back, admiring your face as you get closer and closer. "Want to hear your pretty sounds," was his explanation as to why he would stop kissing you.

He once again focused on your neck, his mouth sucking on the skin there. You knew that would leave a mark, but that didn't bother you in the slightest. The idea of Eddie branding you, claiming your body like that, only contributed to the knot in your stomach becoming tighter.

And he made sure to leave not just one hickey, but several. He would occasionally bite down on your neck, adoring to feel the way your grip on his bicep would tighten, nails digging on his skin and your back arching in response while your pussy clenched around his fingers. Your other hand was gripping the sheets underneath you, desperately wanting to hold onto anything because you were just too close, your body needing to brace itself for it.

You lose it when you feel his teeth biting your earlobe, letting out the loudest moan yet when you reach your orgasm. Eddie moves back again, not wanting to miss the show. The sight of you whimpering, still rocking your hips against his fingers, looking so needy and vulnerable for him. And he couldn't get enough of the look in your eyes when you stare back at him, knowing he did a great job just by the expression on your face.

Your hand reaches down to grab his wrist, silently pleading him to keep his movements as slow and gentle as possible, still sensitive from the feeling of your orgasm. He understands, his fingers carefully moving in and out of you one last time before moving his hand away.

Eddie looks at you with a grin, his fingers absolutely soaked with your juices. He didn't think twice before cleaning them off with his mouth, which has to be the hottest thing you've ever seen.

Right after, both of his arms are at each side of your head and he's leaning down to capture your lips in a very heated kiss, tongues meeting and teeth occasionally crashing as you both hungrily devour each other's mouths. You can feel him rubbing himself against your stomach, and you whimper at the feeling because you need to feel him somewhere else.

He only pulls away from you to reach for a condom from his nightstand. You sit on the bed, moving your hips further up to give him space to put the condom on before continuing what you were just about to do.

A smile appears on your face when you see he's done, chuckling when he grabs your hips and pulls you back down, your back pressed against the mattress as you return to your previous position. He was so eager for you and you can just tell by the way he's looking at you.

Eddie kisses you again, holding his weight with one arm while the other explores your body, fingers tracing down your hip to your thigh, grabbing your leg to put it over his shoulder. The position stretches you out even further, moaning in anticipation because you can feel how exposed you are for him.

One of your hands holds onto his bicep the second Eddie starts entering you. "Fuck," you let out in pure ecstasy, already wanting to have him buried deep within you.

You moan again when his skin touches yours, indicating he's fully inside you. When he pulls out, your available leg practically forces him back in by wrapping around him, which definitely took Eddie by surprise judging by the grunt that just escaped his lips.

"So needy of my cock, huh?" he teased. "It's okay, baby. I'll give you exactly what you need."

"Please, Eddie..." you moan, enjoying the fact that his thrusts increased. You were so wet, it was so easy for him to go in and out of you.

He continued to fuck you, the chain hanging from his neck tickling your own while his thrusts continued. Your leg hanging from his shoulder helps to make you feel him deeper than ever, making the experience that much better. He's reached places inside you you're pretty sure no one else has. Ever. And you wouldn't want any other person this seeded in you that isn't Eddie.

Only he can have you like this, a moaning and sweaty mess because he doesn't look like wanting to slow down his movements. He's the only one that would ever make you feel like this. No one can fuck you like he can, and you hope this isnt't the first and only time you get to have him inside you.

Your glasses were starting to fog because your face was buried in his neck while he continued to thrust in and out, forcing you to move your head to the side to avoid them making it impossible to see a thing. That gave him the perfect opportunity to begin kissing your jaw.

"I'm gonna cum," you announced, knowing that you wouldn't last when he's repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside you, your nails digging harder on his arm.

"I'm right behind you," he replies, his lips barely breaking contact with your skin as he speaks. "Cum for me, baby. I want to feel your pussy clenching around me."

"Keep talking like that..." you were barely able to say, feeling you could come any second.

"I need to feel you squeezing my dick when you cum all over me. Make sure to say my name, too. I bet it sounds so pretty when you're screaming it for me while I keep fucking you nice and hard."

"Oh, fuck...Eddie!" you practically gasp, holding onto him as you reach your orgasm, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you completely lose yourself in it, enjoying every second of your release.

"That's it," he encourages, smiling down at you. "So fucking tight around me..."

"Please, give it to me, Eds," you're barely able to plead, still trying to ride down your recent orgasm. "I've been good for you, I need...please, I deserve it. Please."

"You've been so good," he agrees, practically hoping that would be enough hint that he also wants you to keep talking.

"I have. I've taken your cock so well, Eddie...don't you think your good girl deserves to feel you cum?"

"Fuck, you do. You deserve...you deserve it all, baby. "

You whimper underneath him, knowing he was so close already. You just needed to give him one last encouragement for him to lose it entirely. And you knew exactly what you needed to say to get him to break right there.

"Please, daddy. I need to feel you cum."

It was like a secret code only you knew the correct answer to. Or like a complicated riddle only you had the answer to. Because as soon as those words left your mouth, Eddie was rapidly reaching his own orgasm.

A few occasional profanities left his lips as he came down from it all, his hands still worshiping your body as he gave his final thrusts before finally pulling away from you.

He got rid of the used condom while you got under the covers of his bed, not minding to get dressed just yet. You could do that later. Right now you just wanted to rest in his bed.

Eddie got back and joined you underneath the covers. You were gladly surprised when he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a quick kiss on the top of your head. He didn't bother to put any clothes on either.

"So, was that better than your movie?" you asked jokingly, obviously knowing the answer.

"Much better," he replied instantly, which inevitably made you chuckle. "Don't think I'll need to watch that anymore if I can fuck you like this whenever I want."

"Yeah, you can forget all about that stupid film," you agreed, already waiting for the next time you get to have Eddie all to yourself like this again.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

try to relax

bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni. (fingering, fxm intercourse, dirty talk) drug use (don’t do drugs kids) and kinda dub-con because drugs. this is a FIC okay fictional. FAKE. swearing. one mention of death, tiny illusion to bucky’s sad little life but he’s fine now okay.

a/n: i honestly don’t know how good this is but i’m just happy to have finished SOMETHING these past two weeks. ding dong eat this!!!!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You need to chill the fuck out.” You say from your spot against the wall. Even watching him was stressing you out, your eyes tracking him back and forth as he paces the room you have both been stuck in for the last 3 hours.

“And you need to take this more seriously.” He takes a break from walking in a straight line to run a hand through his hair, peaking out the window for the hundredth time.

“They aren’t coming. Not for a while, at least.” Your head rolls back, the hunched position making you ache everywhere, but you didn’t have anywhere else to go with Bucky’s pacing.

“How would you know? You’ve been sitting there half asleep on your ass for hours while everyone else is probably searching for us.” He was so worked up— had been all day. This mission had gone wrong the minute the two of you had been paired up. Secure the perimeter, that was all you had to do. It was simple, but you and Bucky were anything but.

You don’t know when it started; it had to of been in the past few months when you started helping Steve out with a few lower level drug guys that turned out to be linked to Hydra. You never thought drug-dealing would turn out to lead to a promotion like this— staking out a building with an Avenger, but now here you were, and Bucky seemed to hate it from the start. Hated you too, probably.

There was just something about you that didn’t mesh well with him. It could be the way he never seemed to take a breath for one second, constantly either in a state of combat or some sort of depressive episode. Either way, the two of you worked well together— as a working team, that is. Even if it was paired with constant bickering that made the entire team rip out the comms in there ears.

Bucky just made you feel… things. You didn’t know why you always bickered with him, always found an excuse to talk to him, even if it was to argue. You were just drawn to him in a way you didn’t understand, but it was best you didn’t. He certainly didn’t feel anything but mild irritation. Maybe more than mild.

“Look, they are either still trying to clear out the building across the street, orrrrr… they are all dead and we are next. Either way there’s nothing we can do about it right now, so you might as well get comfortable.”

“Our friends could be dead, and you want to get comfortable?”

“Your friends. My co-workers.” You drag your backpack over to you, using it as a pillow before laying down on the floor, preparing for a long night. The area Steve and Natasha were covering was huge, and now that you and Bucky had been locked in this room before you could finish your sweep, you were stuck here until they met up with you on the other side. “They aren’t dead, James. Without any super powered help though, it’s going to take them hours to even figure out we are still here. So chill out.”

Bucky sighed, but he had exhausted every way possible to get out of this room. There was a window, and if he was alone, he would take his chance and jump, but it was way too far for you, and Steve would kill him if he left you here. That’s the excuse he told himself, at least.

In reality, he didn’t want to leave you. You were the first person he’d had a connection with other than Steve in decades. Sure, you hated his guts and found him annoying, but you talked to him. Didn’t look at him like he was some kind of monster. You were never afraid of him, talking back at him like he was just another person, not a super soldier who could kill you in less than a second. You were also an ex-drug dealer, though, so maybe he shouldn’t value your opinion as much as he does.

The little fight he had about getting out of here drops out when his back hits the opposite wall to you, sliding down now that his body feels heavy with exhaustion. It had been a long day, and even if this mission was cut short, hanging around you all day always sucked the energy out of him. It was like adrenaline pumped him awake when he was with you—that was probably why you thought he was so strung out all the time. It was just you that made him nervous, put him on edge.

“I can practically hear you thinking.” You were staring at him, watching how his metal hand and the real one linked behind his neck as he leaned back. Yeah, he might hate you, but fuck if he didn’t look good doing it. His hair was getting a little longer now, fading around the nape of his neck, and you tried to look away but his eyes caught you like a snare, pulling you in.

“What?”

“You’re stressing me out. Take a Xanax or something, you need to just… relax.” He rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Of course you would tell me to take a fucking pill.” He shakes his head, and you shrug. “Your whole bag is probably full of shit to offload, huh?”

“One, I’m offended. I’ll have you know I’ve gone straightened arrow thanks to my new, well paying job. Two, this is my personal stash, and you’re lucky to be offered anything at this rate.” He scoffs, and for a second he thinks your bluffing— you must be. No one in their right mind would pack for a mission anything but the essentials; ammo, ropes, necessary supplies. Drugs were out of the question, why would anyone ever— “But, since we’re stuck here, it’s your lucky day.”

You reach into the side pocket of your bag, and pull out one small tin. It’s the size of your palm, and when you open it, the room is instantly filled with a smell that Bucky knows too well.

“Seriously? You brought a blunt on a fucking recon mission?” He nearly laughs. “You have to be kidding. You know Fury would kill you for that.”

“Well, technically it’s medicinal. And in the state of New York, it’s almost the same as carrying a firearm— legal as long as you have the right paperwork, which we do.” You pull out a lighter, and shuffle over on your knees to sit closer to him. He must be high already, because the sight of you coming closer, on your knees has his breath hitching in his throat. You reach out, offering him the tin.

“I’m not smoking.” You take the tin back, looking up at him through your lashes before lighting one end and inhaling deeply. Your eyes flutter shut, and he knows he’s watching you too intently, but your eyes are closed, and he lets himself indulge for one more second before looking out the window, hoping for a distraction from the way you have him feeling.

“Suit yourself.” You lay down, spreading yourself out on the floor as you bring the blunt back to your mouth. Your eyes cross as you watch yourself exhale, letting the heavy smoke fan out in the small space around you. “You know you could really use it, though.”

“I’ve had enough of people fucking with my head. I don’t need to do it to myself.” You sit up on your elbows, your hair sliding over your shoulder as you turn to look at him.

“This is weak as shit. With your super soldier blood, you probably won’t even get high, but if you don’t want it, I’m not gonna make you.” You weren’t feeling any of the effects yet, so the look of sincerity in your eyes almost makes Bucky feel a little bare. “I get it. Not wanting to fuck yourself up.”

“Yeah.” He manages to get out, watching at you inhale again. The room feels ten degrees hotter, and your chest puffs out just a little when you smoke. Bucky tucks his legs up to bend them.

“You drink like a fucking sailor though. Constantly. This—“ You wave the blunt in the air, smiling a little. “—this is much healthier.”

“Oh? Healthier? Must be why it’s illegal.”

“Medicinal.” You purr, looking at him again with a spark in your eye.

“I don’t get drunk.” You turn to face him then, still laying down, and the curve of your hip is exposed with how your shirt rides up. Bucky coughs, looking out the window again.

“Why do you drink so much, then?”

“Medicinal.” You grin lazily, flopping your head to one side, and then a light giggle comes out of your mouth, and Bucky is pretty sure he’s breathing in too much of your second hand smoke with how fast his heart is beating, despite the fact it’s all flying out the open window.

“You’re funny. Why didn’t I know you were funny?” You lay back down, exhaling more smoke and watching a little bit of ash fall off the end of the blunt.

“Too busy yellin’ at me.”

“Yeah, well if you didn’t go out of your way to piss me off so much, I wouldn’t yell.” Another few rings of smoke hover above you, and the more you smoke, the more intrigued he is with the effect it has on you, and what it would do to him.

“I don’t try to do that.” Bucky says, a little more defensive than he meant.

“Must be your natural charm, then. That or you just really hate my guts.” You say it jokingly, but there’s a tinge of truth behind it. You think he hates you? Sure, you argue, but he argues with everyone. It’s practically a personality trait. After a long silence, he finally finds the mind to say something.

“I don’t. Hate you.” His hands nervously tap against his knees. “If we’re being honest, I actually always kind of liked you. Even if you did piss me off all the time.”

“Aww. You like me!” You chirp in a sing-song tone and he scoffs, dropping his head to hide the stupid smile that makes his eyes light up. “That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah? I’ll take it back. No one’ll believe you; you’re high as shit.” You start laughing harder, proving his point.

“Well, there you go. Only took us being locked in a room for three hours, and now we’re best buds.” You laugh at your own joke, and Bucky shakes his head, only smiling because you were.

Inhaling again, the paper in your hand is nearly burnt out, and you relight it before sucking in one more time, and snuffing out the flame on the ground. The muscles in your shoulders nearly sink into the ground, and your eyes close, sighing.

“You okay?” He asks quietly after a few minutes, and you smile, keeping your eyes shut.

“Never better, Buck.” The nickname makes him straighten. You hardly ever call him Bucky, only James. He likes it a little too much; the way you say it. He sees how relaxed you are, how easy words come to you the longer you sit with the drug in your system, and he wants to feel that relaxed. Since he came back from Wakanda, he doesn’t think he’s had a second of feeling as relaxed as you are now. He was constantly wondering what was around the corner, terrified of his own mind, and even though he knew he was free, there was always going to be that thing in the back of his mind that told him to stay alert. Stay tense.

“What’s it feel like?” He hates how fucking young he sounds, but it’s an experience he’s never had. He didn’t do shit like that when he was young— never had a chance to. He was straight into the army, and the only thing he ever smoked was cigarettes.

“Warm.” You hum. For a second he thought you were asleep with how still you were. “Feels better the longer you wait.”

“Thought your tolerance would be better for a drug dealer.” He teases.

“I don’t use a lot. Never did.” You suck in a long, clean breath, and finally open your eyes again.

“Why not?”

“I gotta be with the right people. I don’t want my head all messed up around the people I was with. Need to trust them.”

“And you trust me?”

“Of course I do. I would of died a hundred times over if it wasn’t for you.” Sure, the two of you may not agree, and most of the time argue about it, but you trusted him a hell of a lot more than anyone you sold with. More than anyone, really. His eyes linger on the joint in your hand, and you raise an eyebrow. “You curious?”

“Kind of.”

“Really?” He shrugs, looking around the empty room. The sun was starting to set, washing you over in a hue of orange. There was literally nothing else to do right now. “Okay. You done this before?”

“I’m 106 years old.” He deflects, and you squint at him. “No, I haven’t.”

You laugh, sitting up and bringing your lighter in your right hand. You shuffle over on your knees, and you get a little closer than you need but Bucky lets you. Widening his legs, he lets you lean against the inside of one of his thighs.

You feel high as a fucking kite, and it’s not even the blunt that’s making you all lightheaded. Bucky smells so fucking good, and this close you can nearly sink into him. He’s watching you intently, eyes tracking when your hands fiddle with the paper and lighter, and as you bring it to his lips, he stares into your eyes when his parts his mouth.

“So, what you wanna do is—“

“Yeah, yeah. Light it.” He says, the blunt muffling his words as he leans forward. His chest presses against your side and you feel him breathe in, the small flame of the lighter licking at the twisted end.

He takes a long, deep breath and holds it for a couple seconds, staring at you with slightly widened eyes. You wait for it— the realisation it’s too much too quick, and in the next moment he’s coughing practically into your lap, turning away and snatching your water out of your hands.

“Jesus. You really are old.” He was still coughing, trying to swallow some water, but after he got a couple breaths back in he was smiling with you. Head resting back on the wall, grinning from ear to ear. “You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just been a while since I smoked anything.” You nod, taking a hit of your own. The familiar burn keeps the warmth spreading in your chest, and you can feel how hot your face is getting, the warmth of Bucky’s body heat making you want to reach out and grab him.

Okay— you needed to cool down. Clearly, being near Bucky was making you delirious, because the thoughts you could usually shut down were the same ones you couldn’t stop thinking about. How warm his mouth would feel, how easy it would be to curl into his chest and sleep this stupid mission away.

“Can I?” His metal hand gently drags the joint from your mouth as you nod slowly, staring up at him. You watch, enthralled at how he makes it look so good. He shuts his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of breathing and the honeyed feeling slipping into his chest. It was the closest thing you’d seen to pure perfection— how his hair fell, how his metal hand looked so careful, even though you knew what it could really do. Your eyes must nearly have hearts in them, you were staring with that much intent.

Bucky, on the other hand, was on cloud fucking nine. Two drags in and he could feel that warm, sleepy high you were talking about. He was worried about… well, something, at some point he thinks, but honestly he couldn’t hold onto a single thought other than the way you were looking at him right now. It was the drugs, he reasoned, but Jesus, he couldn’t help it. You were so close, and your eyes were so wide…

Wordlessly, the two of you share the second blunt, passing it between you with a few small laughs if Bucky chokes. You show him a few dumb smoke tricks you picked up along the way, and he fails miserably trying to copy them. Eventually the paper burns through and you snuff it out on the wall, letting your head fall back on the top of Bucky’s knee.

“Damn.” He says now that he’s sat in the feeling for a while. “You were right.”

“Huh?”

“Feels… good. The longer you wait.” You hum, smiling, and his face falls when you turn your head to look up at him. Wind blows through the crack in the window, and no matter how warm the weed is making you feel, you still shiver as it crosses over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just… wind is cold.” He blows out a breath, head flopping to the side to squint at the window, almost like he’d forgotten it was there.

“We are high up. Gonna get colder tonight.” Neither of you expected an overnight mission, and you hadn’t even packed a jacket. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I’m cold, too. Come closer.” Arms outstretched, he looks way too inviting. It was James, though… and up until about three hours ago, you thought he hated you. Now, he wanted to… cuddle?

“James.”

“Don’t say my name like that.” He pouts. Like a four year old.

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me.” You shook your head, hair falling over your now heated cheeks. Feeling like you had to prove him wrong, like you had to make it up to him, and also like the only place you wanted to be was tucked into his giant frame, in one movement you spin around and lean into him, your back pressing against his chest. You sigh, sinking into the feeling of him pressed to your feverish skin, every exhale dropping you further and further down in his lap. His arms wrap around your waist, and you can feel his nose on the skin at the back of your neck.

“S’better, yeah?” His voice is gravely and low, the heat of his words brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Yeah. It’s good.” Your eyes were a little heavy, but you had never felt more awake. Bucky’s hands were fanned out on your stomach, holding you a little tighter now that he knew you wanted to stay.

“You smell nice.” His head is pressed against the back of yours, and the comment breaks you out into a fit of laughter, because of course he would say that.

“You would think so. It’s your shampoo I use.” You feel his laughter on the back of your neck, and it’s then that you somehow notice the sun has completely disappeared from the window. “Shit, Buck. What time is it?”

“Dunno.”

“We… we should try the comms again. See if Steve can hear us.” Bucky makes a noise, maybe agreement, or maybe he’s just humming a tune, but one of his arms skates along your side to reach for his pocket, and he holds out the comm to your ear, pressing the receiver.

After a few tries, you give up. It’s clear your going to be stuck here all night, but with the way you are now, you don’t really give a shit.

“Nothin’.” You say and he chucks the comm to the other side of the room, pulling you closer as he threads his metal arm back around your waist. “And you said I needed to take this more seriously.”

“I am being very…” His lips brush against the hot skin of your collarbone “..very serious right now.”

“Bucky…” He hums again, the vibration on your skin sinking all the way through your body. “You’re… friendly—when your high.”

“I’m always friendly.” Fuck— the way he says it, he’s not even trying to but it makes your toes curl in your shoes. You don’t say anything, just let his head press into the crook of your neck, like he’s using you to hold himself up. He probably feels as weighed down as you do, all your limbs feeling like weights now. After a bit of silence, he picks his head up. “I like this.”

“You like it?” He nods, the few curls on his forehead tickling under your jaw. “Well, I can get you some if you—“

“Not the drugs. You.” A noise erupts from your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a pathetic whimper.

“You’re just high, Buck.” It makes you a little angrier than it should— he gets to say stuff like that now cause he’s all fucked up, but then he’s gonna go right back to his old self when this wears off in a couple of hours, and you hate that he can make you feel all these things with a few sweet words. As hard as it is, you slide out of his hold, and he frowns, head falling back to lean on the wall again.

“M’not.” He moans, shuffling up slightly.

“Yes, you are. Let me see your eyes.” Bucky lets his head fall forward dramatically, and now you’re on your knees in front of him, you can see how flushed his face is, and his eyes are bloodshot. “You’re high as fuck.”

“So?”

“So, you’re talking out of your ass. You don’t get to say things like that then take them back when your heads clear.” It comes out a little more bitter than you planned, and you shove yourself backward, putting more space between you two. It didn’t matter how much you wanted it— he was fucked, and would never want you sober.

“What? Wait… give me a second.” He rubs his eyes, and shakes his head in this totally endearing way that makes you want to slide back over in his arms, but you keep your hands cemented to the floor. “That’s not— I wouldn’t take it back. I do… like you.”

“Why are you saying that like it leaves a bad taste in your mouth?” He swallows and blinks slowly, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. If you weren’t so high right now, you might be more upset with him. Or more… reactive, in another way. Instead you just sit and watch him blink at you, nearly being able to hear the cogs slowly turning in his brain.

“No, I just... Jesus, you are so complicated.” Your jaw hangs open, and it’s you that gets a little closer this time.

“Me? I’m complicated?”

“Yes. Complicated.” He pronounces every syllable of the word, a slight smirk on his face. “You act like you hate me most days, but you always look at me like...”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me. Bad.” That wipes the expression off your face, and you can’t tell if it’s the drugs in your system or just the effect Bucky has on you, but you struggle to get a proper breath in. “Like maybe you want me as bad as I want you, and for some reason you don’t want to admit it.”

“Bucky.” You say, and it was meant to have some kind of warning in it, but it comes out more as a whimper. He was reading your mind, all those times you rolled your eyes at him, started an argument just so he would get angry at you and focus on you; you could blame the weed as much as you wanted, but even stone cold sober Bucky would be able to get you to give in this easy.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it. Even once.” He shuffles forward on his knees, towering over you.

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Yeah, I do. Really bad.” He’s closer now, and you can smell the faint remains of his cologne. It’s nearly intoxicating. Your back was pressing against the wall, and you weakly kick out a leg into his chest, stopping him from getting closer. It’s the last thing you want, but Bucky stops, sinking back on his heels.

“You don’t. You aren’t thinking clearly.” His shoulders slump, and the way his eyes are all wide and puppy dog like, you can’t figure out if you should just let him do whatever he wants to you or splash water in his face. The only reason you haven’t jumped on him yet is because this must be the weed. It has to be, because there’s no way in hell Buck actually wants you. He’s just cold, horny, probably, but he doesn’t want you. He doesn’t even like you…

“Nothing I haven’t thought a hundred times before.” Bucky whispers, staying where he is opposite you. “Think about it too much, probably. All the time.”

“Think about what?” He smiles then, like he could almost see the last bit of your rational brain fly out the small crack of the window. He moves, not on top of you like you hoped he’d try, but next to you, exhaling as he relaxes against the wall. His shoulder presses into yours, and his head flops to the side nearly resting on you.

“Think about how you always piss me off. Like you do it on purpose.” The anxiety you were feeling starts to fade away, and the calming effects of the drug set in, making your eyes flutter shut as you smile. “Makes me think you just do it to get my attention.”

“You wish.” He’s right, reading you like an open fucking book, and even with his inebriated state he knows it. He looks up at you, grinning ear to ear, and you shove him. Not hard enough to get him off you, though.

“I’m not saying anything I don’t mean. I’ve never hated you. Never not wanted you.” He blows past the admission, stretching his legs out and moving so the entire length of his body was pressing against the side of yours. But it’s not lost on you. It’s almost like you’re dreaming— everything you never thought you’d hear is laid out in front of you, and your heart nearly stops at the thought of taking it.

“Wanted me, huh?” You deflect and he nods, still staring at you. “You have a shit way of showing it.”

“I haven’t got the best game nowadays. It’s been… a while.” Both of you laugh a little harder than necessary, and now you really feel it. That familiar buzz… it’s taken a little longer to set in, but now there’s not a thought in your brain other than the way Bucky’s head was resting on your shoulder, and his nose was grazing the skin just under your jaw. “Let me make it up to you.”

“You know this isn’t what I had in mind when I said you needed to chill out.” You suck in a sharp breath when his hand comes up under your jaw, two long fingers angling your head up just right, so your lips would melt together if he moved half an inch forward.

“That’s not a bad thing, right?” He says it so soft, and his eyes flutter closed, letting you make the call. You stare at him for a second, trying to find any part of your blissed out head that would take the moral high ground. “Cause I would be very, very relaxed if you kissed me right now.”

“Bucky…” His eyes open, keeping his hand on your jaw. “I don’t want to kiss you if you’ll go back to hating me tomorrow.”

“I never hated you.” His hand slides back, fingers threading in your hair and he shakes his head. “I want this if you do.”

“You know I do.” You whisper, and he hums, eyes darting between your mouth and his hands in your hair.

“S’fucking pretty, too. Always thought that.” The compliment makes you lose your edge, and you stutter through your sentences, trying to be the rational one— but let’s face it, he’s got you wrapped around one metal fucking finger.

“You aren’t— Bucky. I’m… we can’t. You are off your face—“

“I’m a fucking super soldier. One joint doesn’t make me want you any less.” Both of his hands hold you, his eyes wide. It’s like he’s suddenly awake, proving a point that if he concentrates, he’s still able to think clearly. “I want you. Now and tomorrow. After that.”

“After that?” You smile and laugh, and he brushes his nose against yours.

“Do you want this, doll?” You blink a few times and nod quickly, not wanting him to mistake your sluggishness for hesitation, and he leans forward. The buzzing of adrenaline is mixing with the warmth from the joint, and you know it’s going to happen, because he’s never someone you could say no to. When he finally kisses you it’s soft, electricity almost zapping if he wasn’t pressing against you so lightly.

It only lasts about three seconds and he pulls away, smiling like a kid before his metal arm wraps around your back and slides you over his lap. Both of you breathe in sync, sucking in air before colliding your lips again. It’s still slow, but harder this time, Bucky’s hand pulling your hair a little as he makes a fist, trying to hold onto something— anything to ground him.

Maybe it’s the fact your both in the clouds, or it’s the built up tension from months of bickering and side eye glances, but one roll of your hips has both of you panting, and you swear if you just get a little more friction you could finish right in his lap, him only needing to tug on your hair a little harder.

“Bucky.” You moan like it’s a curse word, and he growls into your mouth, pulling you tighter. Your movements aren’t controlled, your brain so foggy that you aren’t sure you can really feel your fingertips and how hard they might be digging into the strong lines of Bucky’s neck, but he’s just as gone as you are, and you both revel in the unhinged desperation that has you both pulling— pleading with the other to give in.

“Baby, baby…” He sighs, and kisses down your neck. His teeth scrape along the skin, nipping lightly, the warmth of his mouth following in a soothing apology. “Tell me you want me like I want you. Don’t want you to hate me for this.”

“Never fucking hated you, Bucky. Just…” You roll your hips again and let out the most pathetic sound you think you’ve ever made, the drugs only making everything feel slower and a hundred times better. “I want you. Want you now.”

Your hands slip between your bodies, and Bucky bites harder than he wanted to on your collarbone when you palm him roughly through his jeans.

“Fuck. Sorry, baby.” He kisses over the spot, now destined to leave a mark, but the way you bummed when he did it makes him think you like it.

“It’s okay. You feel good.” You say, breathless and voice heavy with need. He has to stop himself from tearing your pants open and shoving himself inside of you then and there, but the weed and the fact you were finally letting him touch you like this makes him want to draw this out. Make you wait; have it nice and slow like you deserve. “Buck. Please, need you to—“

“Shh. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles into your ear, feeling you shiver as both of his hands drop to rest on your upper thighs. He squeezes, forcing you to relax, although your limbs already feel like jelly. Then they slide upward, tugging at the button of your jeans and pulling them down. “You trust me?”

Nodding again, you both move at the same time. It’s awkward and fumbling, you trying to keep your hands on him while the both of you try to undress, and you feel so lightheaded that when Bucky swears under his breath while yanking your pants over your knees, you can’t help but laugh between the moments Buckys mouth isn’t on yours. He smiles back, you know even though your eyes are shut, and suddenly you don’t feel trapped in this room at all.

Your bare knees hit the cold hardwood floor and you sigh, putting the rest of your weight on top of Bucky. He sucks in a breath, one arm wrapping around your lower back, the cool metal making you flinch slightly. He notices, and goes to let you go, but you just shake your head.

“Don’t. I like it there.” Your eyes flutter open to find his own staring right at you, and when you talk he gets a lazy smile, his face relaxing before his real hand reaches up to your face and kisses you again.

“You like it?” He whispers, moving down to kiss your neck and you nod. “Good. That’s good. What about this?”

His mouth moves lower while his other hand does the same, resting on your hip and pushing you down a little harder.

“Yeah.” You breath, threading your fingers through his hair. You tug lightly and he groans, the sound making you smile. You can’t count how many times you’d imagined your hands in his hair. His hand lets go of your hip, rough pads of his fingers tracing lightly over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He traces the outline of your underwear, the gentle touch sending shivers up your spine and making it hard to get a full breath in. You press into him harder, the haziness in your mind pin pointed to the burst of pleasure rushing through you at the feeling.

“Let me help you, baby.” His words are a little slurred, and he moves slowly, but there’s nothing hesitant in the way his hand slips under the thin, ruined fabric of your underwear and draws slow, tight circles on your clit. You choke out a moan that’s lost in his mouth, body slumping forward as your head falls into the crook of his neck. “There you go. Good girl— good fucking girl.”

“Oh god—“ You moan, and he doesn’t get faster, just keeps that same slow, controlled pace.

“That’s it. Just relax— let me… shit, wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.” You don’t think you could possibly be more relaxed right now, feeling Bucky in all the right places.

He kisses along your jaw, letting his tongue dart out and teeth drag lightly over the spots that make you gasp. There isn’t a spot he hasn’t explored, the attention making you feverish and your eyes squeeze even tighter shut than you thought possible.

Your back arches and he grins against your skin, feeling your fingers grab his hair desperately and hearing you get louder and louder. His metal arm gripped your hip tight— forcing you to go at his pace, a slow staggering towards the building pleasure unfurling low in your stomach. When he kisses you again, head finally pulling back to your lips, it’s short and has you chasing his mouth.

“Wanna see those pretty eyes you when you cum. Look at me.” On command, you open your eyes, finding his gaze all too consuming. “There she is. You close, baby? Wanna cum around my fingers?”

Nodding, you cry out as he slides one finger inside of you, the wetness letting him open you up embarrassingly easily. He hums, almost smiling proudly, and you fight every instinct in your body to keep your eyes open and on him, because he told you so.

Everything halts for a second— you feel all your muscles contract and it’s almost like you’re falling, Bucky’s eyes burning into yours. He holds you closer, forehead pressing against you, and then pleasure overrides all of your senses. He guides you through it, his pace drawing out your release for as long as possible, still that slow, strong force that has you seeing literal stars even though you know you are looking at his eyes. The drug only heightens the sensation, feeling warmth and weightlessness like you never have before.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty.” You moan in response, feeling his index finger brush past your clit again as he slides away from your entrance. Heaving breaths return the oxygen to your brain, and you pull him into a bruising kiss, shaking fingers slipping under the fabric of his boxers.

You hear Bucky suck in a sharp breath when your hands skim lower, pulling his boxers down ever so slowly. He couldn’t figure out what to look at— your hands, soft and gentle, brushing against parts of his skin he’s not sure anyone this decade would of seen, or your face, the lazy smile and the way you bite your lip when you see how fucking hard he is for you just from hearing you say his name. Your hand brushes against him, lightly; teasing, and you smile a little wider when he lurches forward.

“Relax.” You say mockingly and he shakes his head, pulling your mouth back to his. Your bodies move in sync now, him shuffling down as you move up, and the kiss is only broken by a pleasured gasp from both of you as he slowly slides inside of you. “Oh, fuck—“

“You feel so good.” Bucky whines into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t move just yet, giving you time to adjust and only shifting your hips so you can take the weight off your legs. “Can feel how tight you are.”

“Bucky… please. Need you.” The feeling of him moaning against your skin makes your spine shiver.

“Alright, sweetheart. Stay nice and still for me, yeah?” Nodding, he shifts his hips, driving deeper inside of you and your mouth hangs open as fireworks shoot off in your stomach. His pace is slow at first, but Bucky doesn’t have the control he did with his hands. Not when he can feel you reacting to every move he makes, feel how you tighten around him when he talks to you— “Tell me how it feels.”

“Really… really good, Buck.” He looks up, not able to do anything but admire the way your head falls back, exposing all the little marks and bruises he’s made against your soft skin. “F-faster. Please.”

“Wrap your arms around me.” He can’t smell the weed anymore, just the intoxicating scent of you as your arms link behind his neck, kissing his forehead before he speeds up, feeling all that pent up anger and stress chin away with each passing second. “God, that’s it.”

He was too far gone now, being buried in you the strongest high he’s felt in his entire life— you were too sweet, too fucking tempting and good to him, he couldn’t even think about how wrong this was right now, all he could think about was how god damn good you made him feel, and how you were saying his name over and over like it meant something to you. Saying it with none of that hate and bite, no attitude, just pure fucking pleasure, and that thought pulled him over the edge.

“Buckyyy…” You whined again, jaw slack, and he could feel you were close too. Another few seconds and he’d be right there with you, and he wanted it more than he’d let himself admit.

“Hold on. Little bit longer.” He grunted into your mouth, one hand holding your jaw.

“I can’t… please—“

“Yes you can. So fucking stubborn. You can.” He kisses you softly and your eyebrows furrow in concentration— so fucking good to him—“Almost, baby. Doin’ so fucking good.”

He tightens his metal arm around your waist, moving your body into his so hard your nails dig into the flesh of his neck, and a choked whimper comes out of him before he can stop it.

“Gonna cum, okay? Wanna feel you first though… please.” The softness of his voice is what hurls you over for the second time, your body collapsing into Bucky’s strong arms.

You feel his abs tense under his shirt as he cums, the warmth of him filling you so deep you can’t imagine feeling anything else for days. You kiss him again, and his mouth falls open, wide and all consuming, pulling you in so deep you have no choice but to let him take what he wants, what he needs— and fuck, you are glad to give it to him.

There’s nothing cold about the way he holds you now, the open window blowing in a breeze from the now pitch black night, but Bucky’s arms are tight around your waist, and he’s still buried inside of you, panting with his face pressed to your skin. He’d catch his breath faster if he wasn’t constantly kissing along your collarbone, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Buck—”

“Don’t move yet. Just a lil’ longer.” You feel metal fingers grazing the line of your spine, running up and down in tentative lines.

You weren’t really going to tell him to move. You were going to say something about how the comm he threw had been flashing for twenty minutes, indicating someone was trying to reach the two of you, but couldn’t get through because neither of you were on the other line. You pick your head up off his shoulder, pushing him back gently to look in his eyes. His head falls against the wall, a grin spread on his face that makes him look a hundred years younger.

“Why are you smiling?” He laughs, slowly looking down your body to where you were still connected, his hands now resting firmly on your hips.

“Just… happy?” The rooms silence is broken up with your scoff and more of his laughter, the sound only making you feel even lighter. He gives your hips a light squeeze, and you open your eyes again. “Been thinking about this for months. You. You’re why I’m smiling.”

Kissing him again felt like the most relaxing thing in the world, and when he flipped you on your back, you shoved your backpack over the comm link, covering the flashing light and leaving the two of you in darkness.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x yn #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #the winter solider smut #the winter solider x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you

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pagesfromthevoid · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 9

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Kidnapping. Angst. Lol

Author’s Note: ✨Woops✨

Series Mastlist | Talk to Me!

The Taken

“Where did you get this?” The Armorer asked, holding the circlet in her hands carefully.

“The princess I saved –it belongs to her.”

Din had left her and the child on Sorgan, simply explaining that he had to take care of something back on Nevarro. She questioned him, asking if she could come, but he promised he would be quick. It was a little over three days worth of travel between Sorgan and Nevarro, so she was skeptical of him. Din had reassured her that it was nothing bad; that what he was doing was for her. But what he needed to do was important.

Which is what brought him before the Armorer of his people, with her circlet. She had insisted she didn’t want it anymore after he revealed what it was made of. He wasn’t sure where she got beskar steel, but she wasn’t opposed to him taking it. It’s rightfully yours, she had said. Do whatever you see fit with it.

“How curious,” the Armorer murmured, examining the piece. “I made this many years ago.”

Din’s brow furrowed and he stepped forward. “What do you mean, you made it?”

The Armorer looked to him, holding the faded gold piece out to look at. “Our covert was attacked, long before we settled on Nevarro,” she explained, moving next to lay the piece in the flames. “I had been overcome, and the enemy was prepared to kill. But a young man –no older than your princess, I am sure –saved me. I owed him a debt. Yet…All he asked of me was to make him something that would grow with his child.”

“And so you made the circlet.”

“And grow with her it did.” She nodded once, watching as the metal melted down slowly. “You do know what it means to present a weapon to someone, correct?”

“I do.”

The Armorer watched him before taking the molten steel from the flame and moving it to the forge. “Then I will make it into what you ask. Your signet will be imprinted into the blade.” Din nodded once, watching as she poured it into the shape of a dagger. “Your clan of two will become three.”

“Thank you.”

*****

“Well?”

“Well what?” Calisto snapped, tapping her nails against the control panel of her ship, glaring at the screen.

Silas Credence stood in the doorway, hands behind his back. Calisto wanted him out of her hair, but she couldn’t risk another death so close to her. The Senate was already whispering about her husband’s sudden passing; assuming things. Silas was simply lucky that Calisto wasn’t willing to risk her freedom yet.

“Have you located my bride or not?”

Calisto breathed heavily through her nose, nostrils flaring. Perhaps handing her only daughter off to the man was in bad taste, but it was the only thing he wanted in return for handing over Senex’s seat in the Senate. Besides, the little chit should have been patient and just waited him out. He was a frail thing, probably about to keel over at any point.

But no. The princess just had to make things difficult and run. And then, as if that wasn’t inconvenient enough, she had to find herself with a Mandalorian of all people.

Calisto didn’t particularly want to deal with a Mandalorian, though she also didn’t think he’d take so long in delivering her daughter. She was under the impression that Mandalorians followed through on their deals; honor and all that. But a little over a month had passed, and Calisto was starting to grow impatient.

Her droids had been entirely useless. And when she made contact with that fool Karga on Nevarro, he didn’t have any follow up information about the bounty. Just that a Mandalorian took it up and left several weeks ago.

She decided that if this was going to be done soon, and done right, she would have to damn well do it herself.

“I have her located, yes.”

Some backwater planet in the Outer Rim planets, Sorgan, was where her daughter had ended up. Calisto loathed the idea of trucking through woods and farmlands —she avoided it when her husband did it —but if that’s where her child was, that was where Calisto would go.

“We will be landing on Sorgan in an hour,” Calisto explained, moving away from the panel to stand in front of the window of the ship. “Let me locate her and talk sense into her. If she sees you, she will run again.”

“You should have taught her what her purpose was long before me,” Silas hissed, standing beside her now. “Even if she was not intended for me, no one worth their snuff wants a wife that bites.”

“You brought that upon yourself,” Calisto sneered. “I told you to leave her be until your wedding night. It is bad enough you do not leave her ladies alone.”

“It is my right —,”

“Shut up, Credence.”

The old man snapped his mouth shut, narrowing his eyes at her. But he did not argue.

*****

She sat on her knees at the edge of the water, shaking out a basket of krill. Omera was chatting with her idly, explaining the history of the village. There was always something new to be learned, and she appreciated that Omera was willing to teach her. However, she was a bit distracted. Din had returned from his side quest early on that morning, having greeted her with a soft hello and his forehead pressed against hers. When she had asked what he was doing, he simply turned her around and tied the fabric around her eyes and kissed her.

“You and Mando seem very happy here,” Omera commented, smiling at her. “Happy together. And the child seems to adore you.”

She looked at her hands for a moment, admiring the dirt under her nails and the wrinkles that had developed from the water. Her cheeks felt hot as she thought of Din, and the way they spent their time together. Back to the kiss they shared that morning. The way his mouth felt on hers –which was only heightened by the fact she couldn’t see him when he kissed her. The other night, when he had her slip into her gown again, she felt powerful with him on his knees in front of her. And the thought of that alone made her chest tighten.

“I…he’s kind to me,” she admitted, glancing at him for a moment before she looked back at her hands. “I think he might ask –,”

“Oh please, don’t say those words. It’ll only break your heart more.”

Omera whipped around, but she stared in horror at the water in front of her. Her blood ran cold as she slowly looked over her shoulder. Calisto stepped forward —Grogu in her arms. Omera moved to stand, to introduce herself, but she shot her arm out to stop the widow. She stood instead, slowly rising from the ground, eyes on Grogu who looked confused as he reached out for her.

“Mother,” she greeted, tone stern and dare she say, intimidating. “Give me the child.”

Din had turned from the villagers, hand on his blaster. But she motioned for him to stop, sending him a sideways glance as he slowly stepped towards the two. Omera looked between the three of them, eyes wide.

“Why? Have you taken in a ward in the month that you have played runaway?”

“He has nothing to do with me running from you,” she seethed, taking a half step forward. “Let him go.”

Calisto pressed a finely manicured nail into Grogu’s belly, causing the baby to giggle. Calisto feigned a motherly smile —the same she would use to placate her daughter when she was young. She knew her mother well enough that she wouldn’t hurt a baby; not intentionally. She was a cruel woman, but not that cruel. But Din was seething, she could practically feel his anger radiating.

“No, no. You are right, he does not,” her mother hummed, looking at Grogu with utter disinterest. “I wonder where this maternal instinct of yours came from.”

“Certainly not you,” she sneered, narrowing her eyes. “Give him to the Mandalorian.”

Her mother hummed again, slowly turning her gaze to Din, who was standing close behind her now. “On one condition.”

She closed her eyes, biting her tongue. She knew the condition; of course she knew. And Din knew too –she felt him tense up behind her, hand frozen on her lower back. Calisto wanted her home —needed her to fulfill the bargain she made with Credence. There was never any escape for her, and there never would be. Din was right to stay paranoid.

“Fine. But give me the baby first.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Calisto hissed, rolling her eyes. “If you think I trust you, then you are sorely mistaken, child. Bring the Mandalorian; he will get the baby when you are secured in the ship.”

She glanced back at Din, who was standing still behind her, no doubt determining every way he could kill Calisto where she stood.

“Come now, child. Am I not being fair? I am a woman of my word —you know that.”

“Even when your word harms your own child?”

“I never said my words were good. Just that I honor them. And I gave Silas Credence my word that he would have a wife.” Calisto stepped forward, reaching out to grab her by the arm and yank her forward. Din tried to intervene, but she pushed him back. Her mother’s voice was low, drenched in venom as Calisto got into her face. “You have embarrassed me. You could have had anyone you wanted —you could have hired that bounty hunter as your guard and kept him around until Credence died. Maker above, you could have bedded him while Credence was alive for all I care. But you were stupid, and impulsive. And now you have lost both your freedom and your fool Mandalorian.”

She tried to pull herself free, but her mother always had a painfully iron grip. There was a reason she rarely caused trouble as a child —her mother was the one who punished her. A very quick lesson was learned the first time she disobeyed. It was one of those moments that showed her who her mother really was. But she did not show her fear; she would never give her mother that satisfaction.

“At least give him the credits he earned,” she argued, practically being dragged through the village. “At least do that.”

Calisto let out a nasty scoff, shaking her head. “Why, pray tell, would I give him anything?”

“He didn’t kill me when I offered to pay him to.”

“Yet he stole you away, breaking the Guild’s rules,” her mother reminded her, looking over her shoulder at Din, who was hot on their heels. The smile on her face screamed wicked. “I should have him executed for kidnapping the Princess of Senex.”

Quickly, she shook her head, digging her heels into the ground, trying to stop. “I gave him everything I had,” she lied, looking up at her mother. “I told him it was half; I promised him the other half when I found refuge. You cannot blame the man for trying to make more than the original bounty.”

Calisto eyed her closely, shoving her forward towards the Senex ship. For a moment, Calisto considered her options, looking between the baby and the hunter. Then she pushed her daughter up into the hull and set the baby on the ground. She knew her daughter was lying; knew well that Din had helped her escape. But Calisto didn’t care enough about the whole ordeal to keep arguing with the little chit in her hold.

“Take it,” she ordered Din, then pulled a small pouch from the pocket of her cloak. She threw it beside Grogu. “I will say this once, and only once. The moment you are found on Senex, I will raze this entire planet —and everyone on it.”

Din scooped Grogu up into his arms, trying to console the child who was now sobbing for his princess. As the door of the ship shut, she locked eyes with Din —but there was no fear to be seen. She stood tall as she shut into the ship. A handful of the villagers stood back as the ship’s engines ignited and took off, taking his princess with it. Grogu cried out, reaching out.

Omera stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Mando, I –,”

“Have the villagers load the Crest for me,” he ordered, turning away and storming his way towards his own ship. There was nowhere in the galaxy that Calisto of Senex could hide from him –he would find her, he would end her. And he would save the woman he loved.

“Let’s go save our princess, kid.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @demisexuallover @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dancealongthelightofday @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin #the manadalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandolorian x reader #mando x reader

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twinklelilstarkey · 1 year

Text

Tutor: Lunchtime

Words: 3.4k+ Type: Fluff with a hint of angst Summary: Something isn't right with the girls. Warnings: Female!Reader. The girls are becoming mean girls (ignoring, side-eyeing, gossiping). Lack of communication between them. Rafe and Y/N are very unaware of what is going on. Filler chapter for what will be happening in the next chapters (a shitshow). Making out.

Tutor Masterlist (for context, you should REALLY read the smuts <3)

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

“What time until you have class?”

You lift your eyes off your phone as soon as Rafe asks the question. You squint at nothing for a while, shamelessly forgetting what time you start school today. Unfortunately, you do also remember that Mondays are always your heavier days. The ones with more classes and less time after school.

You answer Rafe as he parks the car, less than 20 minutes until class, and you look out of the window. You’re not too far from school, but not too close either. Just enough for you to jump out of the car and walk over a few feet to make the girls think you decided to skip a car ride and have a morning walk.

Your phone, with time, has a black screen, and you’re too lost in your thoughts to realize that Rafe has his eyes on you.

The blind date was just 3 days ago, and you haven’t spoken much with the girls. You’ve talked a few times on the group chat, but you didn’t really pay much attention to it since you practically spent the entire weekend with Rafe in your room.

You had sent them a text as soon as you and Rafe got to your bedroom, and they all answered almost immediately, appearing to be disappointed with the date not working out. Kristy made sure to apologize, saying that she really thought it would work with Alex.

As the weekend passed by, you didn’t get a lot more messages from them, which didn’t faze you. It happens, at times, when they just go silent. Usually, when it happens, the Mondays that follow always have a lot of conversation at lunchtime. Therefore, there is truly nothing to worry about.

You snap awake from your thoughts and look back at Rafe, realizing that you must have been looking out of the window for a while now. Finding his eyes on you doesn’t surprise you at all. His hand is resting on the back of your seat, and you lean your head against it playfully. As a small tilt of a smile appears on his lips, his thumb moves and caresses your temple softly.

“I don’t want to go.” You whisper into the silence of the car.

The small grin on Rafe’s face grows as he finds your self-pitying amusing. You put your phone down and bring your hands up to rest them on Rafe’s shoulders. He automatically knows what you’re doing, so he simply leans back on his seat and lets you crawl over the console to get to his lap.

When sitting, you lean onto him and rest your cheek on his shoulder, seeking his warmth.

“I don’t want to go.” You repeat, still in a whisper, but with your eyes closed.

Rafe lays his hand over your thigh, and he whispers back, “Then don’t.”

“I need to.” You answer, lifting your head to eye him as you speak, “Test is next week. I can’t miss class.”

Rafe is amused yet again, eyeing your distressed face from your eyes to your lips. Noticing his stare, you peck his lips once and lay your head back down. You have to be in class in 15 minutes, and, even though you hate to be late, you might sacrifice it today. And yes, it has to do with the fact that you don’t want to leave this car since you’ll probably only see Rafe again tomorrow or the day after, when you need to tutor Wheezie.

You sit in silence for some time, Rafe looks out of the window while you rest on his lap, lost in your thoughts as his, now both, hands smooth over your thighs, warming them with his familiar touch.

“Did you also get a text from Patty?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him once more.

“About what?”

“The party on Friday.”

Rafe pulls you closer to him, not letting you hide your face on his shoulder again. You rest your hands over his shirt, playing with the thicker fabric between your fingers. He's wearing a long-sleeve shirt today due to the abnormal cold outside. It looks good on him.

“Topper told me something about a party.” Rafe remembers briefly the conversation he had. “But it’s a pool party.”

“A big party or…” You wait for him to tell you, bringing your hands over to the sides of his neck, your thumbs brushing over his jawline.

“A bit, yeah.” Rafe notices how your face falls a little bit, “We can still go if you want.”

“Don’t you think we’d be risking it a bit too much?” You ask him sincerely since you really want to go to a party organized by Patty - especially one she's been telling you all about via text.

“Do your friends go to these parties?” You shake your head, “So…?”

“But their other friends might. And they can always tell them what they see.”

Rafe stays silent for a bit, looking at your face as if to take his time enjoying it, and you eye him back, trying to list more pros than cons in your head, so you can win your internal argument. Rafe’s hand caresses the skin of your thigh, and he speaks.

“It’s your call.” He reminds you, “We only go if you want to go.”

You lean back on his lap a bit, your hands not over his neck anymore. You rest them over his arms now. Rafe's hands have disappeared under the fabric of your skirt, and you play with the ends of his shirt while deep in thought, sometimes moving the shirt aside to touch his skin as well.

The sound of a car speeding past you snaps you out of your internal discussion, and you look out of the window, quickly noticing how today is gloomier than most days. It might even rain.

You grab your phone to check the time and let out a groan almost instantly. You’re going to be late. And unless you run your way to the school building in a few, which you won’t, you will be severely late.

“Need to go?” Rafe asks.

You don’t answer, you simply lay your phone back down on your seat and lean closer to him. A ghost of a smile stays over his lips, and you quickly close the space between the two of you by giving him a kiss. Rafe isn’t sure of the meaning behind it, but he obliges to your wishes.

The kiss is simple at first, a peck, but when your lips move to evolve the kiss, it is slow and loving. Your hands move up. One of them stays over Rafe’s shoulder, while the other goes to his face, pulling him closer, if possible, and sliding to the back of his head. Your fingers work through the soft strands of his hair, and it isn’t long until Rafe is the one with control. And when he leans his head to deepen the kiss, you forget everything else around you.

You forget about class. You forget the possibility of receiving panicked texts from your friends about your lateness. And you absolutely conclude in the midst of the kiss that you should go to that damned party. There are no doubts when around Rafe, no fears - even when they are still very much needed.

The kiss only gets more and more heated with time, and Rafe’s hands have begun grabbing at your skin in a way that he wasn’t doing before. The touch is rougher, almost as if he was grabbing you to make sure you don't move away. It’s possessive. His hands are able to slide and get a good grip on your hips, moving them over his like he wishes them to move, and making you sit exactly where he wants you to sit.

The gasp you let out in the kiss is just yet another opportunity for Rafe to deepen the kiss, making it more heated and, naturally, rougher. Your fingers close around the strands of hair, and you pull at them slightly, getting a small groan from the man under you.

His fingers play with the fabric of your panties over your hips, and you unconsciously grind down into his lap, wanting to feel some sort of friction by doing so. Rafe doesn’t react to your movement audibly, but his hands do since they grab at you again and redo your actions, in a repetitive and continuous movement.

By minutes, the two of you are practically panting at each other’s mouths in between kisses, completely lost to the world and definitely not caring about it. You swear that even the sound is muffled in times like these.

No sound of a text message or anyone outside is what snaps you back awake. You’re proud to say that it is you and your brain alone that remembered what class you happen to have. You remember how bitchy the teacher is and how she usually is with tardiness. If you're too late, detention might be just what she gives you in return.

You disconnect from the kiss, as hard as that may be, and Rafe looks at you in confusion, forgetting where he was for a second or two. You grab your phone again and frown. Rafe’s hold on you is still tight and far from letting go. You will absolutely have to run to the school building if you don’t want to be more than 5 minutes late.

“I need to go.” You say, disappointing Rafe, who simply stares back at you. “I really do, I’m sorry.”

Rafe tells you to not apologize, and his grip on your skin lessens. You put your phone back down, and your hands come to cradle his face. You give him a few pecks on his lips before giving his cheeks equal love so that your farewell is much filled with love, as it should be.

“Don’t need me to pick you up?” He asks when your mouth is just a bit over his.

You kiss him again before answering, “No. The girls will probably drive me home.”

You pull back to go grab your bag from the passenger’s seat, and Rafe helps you move around in his lap. When the door is open and the rush of wind touches your skin, it takes great courage to not pull back and lean in closer to the warm man beside you.

When your feet are on the ground, you turn back to Rafe to say goodbye.

“Text me.” He reminds you before you begin to walk off.

“I will.” You tell him with a smile.

(...)

Good news, you did not get detention. Bad news, the look you got from your teacher when you walked into the classroom out of breath was enough to make you sit perfectly silent and with perfect posture for the whole rest of the class. Only one of the girls has the class with you, but you swear that you didn’t even try to say hello to her when you came in due to how panicked you felt by the woman teaching the class.

You took your notes, and before you knew it, the class was over.

On your way to the next class, like every other Monday, you didn’t exactly have time to talk in the hallways, so you didn’t even look for people to do so. And that is how classes went by.

You may or may not have broken your perfect behavior in class to answer one text or another from the man you abandoned in a car just a few hours before. And, with time, lunchtime with the girls finally came.

You walk happily over to the cafeteria with your food in your hands, and you look around as soon as you walk through the wide-open doors. Multiple people are occupying table after table, so it’s fair to say that it takes you quite a bit of time to find the table the girls are sitting at. They’re all talking when you get to them, but as soon as Kristy’s eyes lift to you, her voice goes silent.

“Hi.” You say with your usual sweet smile.

“Hi” They all answer at different times and tones, some of them appear to be happier to see you than others, which makes you frown in response.

“Everything alright?” You ask, your grin faltering in question to the difference in mood.

“Of course,” Kristy says with a convincing tone. “Where were you?”

“I couldn’t find your table.” You justify your slight lateness to lunch.

“No,” Kristy says with a small smile, admiring your worried tone as you explain, “Before classes. We waited at the door, and we didn’t see you come in.”

The lie had been prepared to be said hours before you needed to use it.

“Oh, I walked to school today.” You say innocently, “But I forgot some stuff at home, so I had to turn around and run home to get them really quickly. I was just 5 minutes late, give or take.”

“What did you forget?” A voice from one of the girls makes you look at them.

“My lunch, for a start.” You say with a smile, which forces Kristy to look away from you, but you don’t notice, “And then I saw on the kitchen counter that I had left my notebook behind as well.”

The girls nod, appearing to have been convinced, and you finally make your way to your seat to have lunch. You sit just 2 seats away from Kristy, which makes her thankful for the girls who chose to sit with her.

Kristy isn’t sure what is so wrong with you now. She knows that you’re acting just like you did before, but... Maybe it’s exactly that. Maybe it's the fact that you’re acting like nothing is wrong, and your life has always been like this. As if you aren't carrying a lie bigger than yourself. A lie that you know would make everyone at the table react negatively. Or, even, make everyone in this cafeteria look at you differently.

Everyone knows Rafe Cameron. Everyone has been to parties or has heard of the parties he frequents. It is fair to believe people would, really, look at you differently. Maybe it even is an understatement.

As a conversation began at your table, Kristy did dare to look at you at times, forcing herself to do so. She knows she's just being stubborn with herself by refusing to communicate for too long with you. Lie or not; wanting to protect you or not, you still were acting like before, so she must do the same.

Yet, naturally, the girls never seem to encourage your involvement in a conversation during lunch. You’ve never been one to enter a conversation and insert yourself or your opinion carelessly, so, they do notice that you choose to simply sit quietly as the lunch continues.

The girls don’t ask or look at you when talking about the things you like or are very argumentative about. They don’t include you when looking around the group and whispering about the new gossip, and they don’t do the usual look around and smile when looking at you. Those warm smiles that were so constant, so them, never come. Not even the regular checking on you and your activities for the day. Not in a bad and controlling way, just in a friendly way. In a comfortable and warm way.

By the time your lunch was half eaten and theirs was fully eaten, Kristy and another one of the girls noticed how you fetched your phone from your pocket and simply entertained yourself with it for the rest of the meal. Maybe their looks were of judgment, they weren’t sure, but they also knew they couldn’t blame you for this, especially when they’re selfishly not including you on purpose.

It hadn’t been Kristy’s idea to give you this treatment. If anything, by Sunday, she wanted to speak to you and get everything out of her chest, but the girls didn’t want to. The girls wanted to see with their own eyes how far something like this could go. They wanted justifications for something they knew nothing about.

Kristy remembers how they had said that, maybe, your relationship with Rafe Cameron had been recent, and if it were, you would indeed start acting differently, so they had to make sure you looked okay on Monday. They secretly hoped that they would see differences in your looks or actions, but none were found throughout today’s classes. You smiled and talked to them like before. No guilt, no fear, just warm smiles, and adoring words. They hated it.

Because of this, there is no plan now. The girls didn’t talk of the possibility of this being a long-time lie, so whatever way they’re acting now is their own choice. The judgment is evident as time goes on in some of their faces, but Kristy can’t even bring herself to snap them out of that attitude, not when she knows who you’re texting.

By the time your sandwich is done, you look back up from your phone, noticing how most of the girls are already looking at you, even when they’re mid-conversation about something else.

A small smile appears on your face, but none of them welcome you to their shared words, they simply look away when you do so. Everyone except Kristy, who has just noticed how your screen has lit up once more. Your smile falters, and you bring your eyes back down. Kristy tries to look away too, but she can't do it. Guilt has begun to eat up at her.

Usually, by this time, most of you have finished lunch and are left to talk for as long as your heart desires. The time is usually used for the most breathtaking gossip and the more exciting conversations overall, ones that make you hate to go to class after. But as soon as you notice that the girls make no action to include you in the conversation, you decide to do something for yourself. There are still 15ish minutes left of your lunchtime, so you get up from the table. The girls immediately shut up and look at you, expecting a justification.

“I’ll uh…” You didn’t plan what to say before doing this, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“I can go with you,” Kristy speaks.

“No, no, it’s fine.” You tell her, even though hearing those simple words did calm your aching heart ever so slightly, “I think I’m going to the classroom a little earlier… I have some homework to catch up on.”

That is probably one of the worst lies you could’ve ever told, but you still said it, knowing that they aren’t deserving of a better one. You walk away with your things in your hands, and their eyes shamelessly follow you without sharing a single word between themselves. No one stops you from leaving either.

You drop your food in the trash and, not noticing the girls are still looking, accept the call that has just begun to make your phone vibrate. You don’t even hide the way your shoulders relax at the sound of his voice, the voice of the man who wasn’t annoyed to have his lunchtime at home interrupted, especially when you texted him about your friends' behavior.

You smile slightly when leaving the cafeteria as Rafe entertains you with the idea of coming to get you right now, not caring about the classes you will miss if you do so. And that is how Rafe makes sure you have company until you walk back inside a classroom.

Because of him, your heart is now calmer and less achy, but dreading to go home.

When taking your seat, minutes later, you ignore Kristy’s eyes on you as she also made sure to get to the classroom early, earlier than you, to probably hear you say your goodbyes on the phone.

Kristy looks at you and says nothing, following the steps the girls had spoken of when you had just walked off. Act normally and don’t apologize for what just happened. It might have been dumb, but they will do better at continuing to act neutral when around you.

You don’t say anything to her either, you simply grab your notebook and begin writing the date with your colored pen. The rest of the girls eventually get to class, but they don’t speak either. You have your phone on your desk, screen down, appearing to not be receiving any texts.

When the teacher walks into the room, so do the rest of the students. Kristy looks over at you, just a simple meter away from her, and you’re reading a text on your screen. She dares herself to read the contact's name, yet when she does, it’s an unknown name. Patty. Kristy, due to her distance, is not able to read what you text back, but she does notice how a small grin appears on your lips as you type.

“Y/N, please put your phone down, we’ll be beginning class shortly.”

You do as told without hesitation, but your easy smile stays. Kristy is the only one to see it, and, therefore, only she feels the uneasiness boil inside her.

I know this isn't much, but I will start working on the next part today. I am planning to have it posted on the day after the season comes out (just like I did with Sunburnt, last season). Hopefully, that will bring more people to this whole shitshow of a story :)

Hope you're liking this story! Feel free to send me your thoughts, theories, or rants about it in my ask box (that includes about the show too).

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #obx #obx 3 #rafe cameron obx #rafe outer banks #outer banks imagine #drew starkey #rafe obx

608 notes · View notes

catboydreamer · 3 months

Text

xiao comfort for nightmare.

notes; vaguely talks about family issues since that's what the nightmare is about. but it is genuinely vague with very general sentences about what happened in the past. also, may be a bit rusty and not super detailed, i haven't written in forever but i really hope it is enjoyable to someone out there. <3

xiao x reader , xiao comforts you after a nightmare.

it wasn't as if you were trying to think of them. if anything, you haven’t actively thought of them in a few weeks and yet…

a nightmare.

when you wake up in a cold sweat and the only light in the room is the gentle light of your alarm clock, all you can remember is flashes. you remember the screaming and how close they got to your face. quite similar to the constant insults and arguments daily when you lived with them. you could almost always taste the cigarettes on their breath or the alcohol steaming off your father when he got home. words slurred and insults casually thrown. no one ever protected you from the fall out. if anything, they created a stone wall against you.

caught up in your own thoughts you didn't hear the soft pitter patter of his boots as he launched off the window sill and made his way to you. it is possible he intentionally walked over so quietly but it wasn’t entirely welcoming in this state of mind.

you only slightly felt how the bed shifted when he sat down. and yet when his hand touches your shoulder in a fleeting, gentle touch, you flinch back a bit. your eyes finally meet in the dark with his glowing orange eyes. it's like a saving grace in the dark of your mind.

he asks without words. is this okay? is this what you want? your throat feels dry so you cannot speak. his presence alone washes over you and tears start to fall down your cheeks. still, despite how it hurts, he sits still and waits for your response. you only nod and by some miracle he is able to see this.

he pulls you into a hug. his arms are a bit stiff but it is a tight hug as he holds you against his chest. you breathe shakily and cry. you’ve filled water stains onto his clothes but he doesn’t push you away or react at all. he continues to hold you within the silence of your room.

and finally, you can feel his breath against your cheek. something you have slowly taught him how to do. something he knows calms you down. it feels more human and puts you at ease.

after a long while in his arms, after the tears have dried up and your throat has closed up way too much, after you have cramps in your wrists from gripping on his shirt, you want to pull away. it's a simple double tap on his thigh and he pulls away from you.

it's only a minute though, and then he lifts a finger to your chin so you look at him only. “you need water. let me retrieve you some.”

it's never a question and with that, his presence is gone for a few moments before he comes back with a glass of water. he places it in your hands and watches you drink the whole glass. once you are done, he places the glass on the small bedside table.

he’s staring for a moment longer than usual though, as if thinking for a long moment. you only wait for his response, trusting he will speak when ready. he stands up and half turns away from you. “do you require physical affection or would you rather me to guard over you from over there?”

sometimes you feel like the answer is obvious but to him it isn’t. he asks every single time, making sure this is what you want. it makes you wonder what goes on inside his head but that conversation is for another time. instead, you answer the question, “i’d like it alot if you would lay with me. at least until I fall asleep if nothing else.”

with the small comment that lays underneath, you see something flicker in his eyes as he walks back over to you. you shift over to make room for him and he lays next to you. you can feel the soft gaze he holds towards you as he reaches to push hair out of your face. your fingers touch his shoulder, fleetingly. never too much, never too little.

it's a million little things that cannot be tackled at once and not in this little room at 3:06 AM. instead, your eyes slowly flutter closed. the comfort of xiao watching over you so closely lulls you to sleep again. this time you only dream of xiao in a meadow, with a smile on his face. you pray that you can have this dream over and over again.

#genshin #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #xiao comfort #xiao x reader comfort #genshin impact

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sweeter-innocence-fics · 1 year

Text

Surviving Sokovia - Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Work Summary:

You were a Sokovian orphan living on the streets of Novi Grad, until Strucker offered you a choice.

Now you are a part of his human experimentation programme, trying to survive an entirely different world of horrors. The kind boy with the beautiful eyes is the only thing that keeps you going.

This story contains dark themes. Please read the notes on chapter one for more details. Dialogue in {these brackets} is in Sokovian.

Chapter Summary: The baby's coming.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3322

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mcximffs @noz4a2 @rottenstyx @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @lanemarvels @marrigold-2002 @kathrinchek @ifilwtmfc @officiallykuute @the-skys-musical-echo @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Taglist info.

Previous Chapter

Notes:

Hello hello, sorry it's a week late, I've been busy with NaNoWriMo. But here it is: the LAST chapter. Thank you for going on this journey with me. Enjoy.

Also, warnings in this chapter for: childbirth, fear of a dog hurting a child (nothing happens tho dw Odeta would NEVER), references to overprotectiveness, pain and blood, medical stuff, very very brief reference to the attempted rape in chapter 8 of this fic. But it's mostly fluff.

---

Since you and Pietro had returned from your honeymoon, you’d become a little less shy around the other Avengers. They were mostly polite to you, but kept their distance, which may have had something to do with Pietro’s fiercely protective – some might say overprotective – hovering.

So sometimes you ate dinner with the other Avengers. You never said much. You weren’t as comfortable with English as either of the twins. You spoke it fairly fluently, but having to translate every sentence in your head was exhausting.

Today, you were sitting in the rec room, a bowl of cereal resting on top of your bump, and Odeta curled up at your feet. You chewed and swallowed slowly. American cereal was a lot more sugary than what you were used to back home, and right now, you felt as though you needed the boost.

A textbook lay open but forgotten on the side table next to you. After the battle of Sokovia, you had mused that you might like to become a medic. It seemed to be something you were good at.

SHIELD jumped at the chance. Since you were nine months pregnant, they had given you books and allowed you to work through them on your own schedule. There would be classes, eventually, but again, on your own schedule.

Given how flexible and permissive they were being, you assumed ulterior motives. Sure, the idea of having a super-powered medic was enticing, but if you stayed, that meant Wanda and Pietro stayed too. Not that they’d shown any desire to leave. Still.

As you took another bite of cereal, you felt a cramp in your lower abdomen. It was probably a Braxton-Hicks contraction. God knows you’d gotten used to them over the last few weeks.

You set your half-eaten cereal down next to your textbook and pushed down on the sofa, trying to get to your feet. Walking around usually helped. It felt like a bad period pain.

Odeta got to her feet as well, and watched as you tried to stand up. She was antsy, like she wanted to help you but didn’t know what to do.

“{It’s okay, girl},” you said, trying to sound soothing, but it was hard to catch your breath. As soon as you were on your feet, you were going to pet her, and then maybe take her for a nice walk around the compound.

Or at least, that was your plan.

Pop.

You felt a gush of liquid escaping your vagina, beyond your control. Before you had a chance to feel embarrassed, the pain of the contraction flared up.

“Oof,” you said, your face contorted as you fell back into your seat. You clasped your hands over your belly and rocked forward, trying to manage the pain.

Odeta began to bark, and then ran from the room. Hunched forward, you put your hands on the back of your head and tried to breathe.

“Hey, are you alright?” You looked up to see Steve Rogers standing in the doorway, staring at you. Odeta was by his side, anxiously pawing at the ground.

“I think my waters just broke,” you said, and you watched the colour drain from Captain America’s face. “Can you help me up? I need to walk around.”

“Of course.” He stood over you, clearly unsure how to help. You shuffled forward in your seat and he put an arm around your shoulders. Very carefully, he pulled you to your feet.

As you stood there, clutching at your stomach, you noticed that there was a wet patch where you’d been sitting on the sofa. Steve was very politely pretending not to notice.

Suddenly, this all felt very real. You were going to have a baby. Tears sprang to your eyes, and in spite of your best efforts, began to roll down your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” said Steve. “F.R.I.D.A.Y? Call Pietro. Tell him he’s needed here.”

You closed your eyes and clung to Steve’s arm. It hurt. A lot.

Suddenly, a familiar hand was curling around the back of your neck, and then Pietro was pulling you into his arms.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, stroking your hair. He was sweaty. He’d just come from some kind of physical training. You wanted to melt into his warmth. “{What’s wrong?}”

“{The baby’s coming}.” You felt him freeze beside you. “{They need to clean up in here. I- I made a mess}.” Embarrassment flooded you.

“{Don’t worry about that. I’m gonna take you to the medbay, yeah? Stark will send a cleaning crew}.”

With Pietro’s arm around you, you started walking towards the medbay. Odeta made an inquisitive noise and bounded in front of you. You stopped walking.

Captain America was still standing by the door, hovering awkwardly, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing.

“Steve, can I ask a favour?” you said, and he straightened up immediately.

“Of course.”

“Could you watch Odeta for a little while? I was just about to take her for a walk. I think she’s feeling a little pent up.”

“Absolutely.”

“{Go with Steve, Odeta},” you said, waving her towards him. “Thank you, Steve, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Any time.”

When you arrived at the medbay, the doctor directed you to lie down on the bed and put your feet up in the stirrups. You froze, staring at the bed. Your mind flashed back to every medical test, every experiment Hydra ever did to you. You remembered the doctor’s unwanted hands touching you.

Pietro must’ve noticed your discomfort, because he asked, “do we have to do it this way?”

The doctor looked at you sympathetically. “I need to check the dilation of your cervix. But I could get a female doctor or midwife to do it if that would make you more comfortable?”

You swallowed. “Okay.”

Pietro helped you change into the hospital gown while the doctor was out of the room. His hands were trembling so much that they looked blurry.

“{Piet? Are you okay?}”

“{I just… can’t believe this is actually happening}.”

“{Are you scared?}”

“{Yes}.” He said it so abruptly that it surprised you. He was normally so reticent to show any kind of vulnerability. “{Are you?}”

“{Terrified}.”

He helped you up onto the bed. While you waited for the doctor, he pulled up a chair next to you and rubbed your stomach soothingly. You closed your eyes, and another contraction starting. You gasped in pain, and Pietro was on his feet instantly, cupping your face in his hands.

“{What’s wrong, sweet girl? Did I hurt you?}”

“{Contraction}.” You grabbed his hand and squeezed. If it hurt him, he didn’t show any sign of it.

When the second doctor came in, she introduced herself. You lay back and tried not to think about anything as she checked your cervix. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. Pietro was very tense beside you.

“That’s about 5cm,” said the doctor. “It’ll be a little while yet. The team will keep checking on you regularly to ensure everything is alright, but you can relax for now. I’ll have someone bring you something to eat to keep your energy up.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief.

With Pietro’s help, you pulled your legs out of the stirrups and shifted into a more comfortable position. Just as you’d sat up, Wanda came into the room.

“{Is it happening?}” she asked.

“{It’s happening},” Pietro confirmed. “{Well, sort of. They said it will take a while}.”

Wanda pulled up a chair. “{Well, I’m here. Anything you need, I’m here}.”

The two of them sat with you, keeping you company as you ate the light meal that a nurse brought you. Wanda remained in her seat, but Pietro couldn’t seem to stay sitting down. If there was ever a break in conversation, he was pacing and wringing his hands. It was starting to stress you out.

“Piet,” you said, and he was by your side in an instant, holding your hand.

“{Yes, my love?}”

“{Do you want to go for a run? Wanda can keep me company, and it’s not like anything’s happening right now}.”

Pietro scoffed at that. “{I’m not leaving you while you’re in labour}.”

“{The pacing is getting really agitating, Pietro},” said Wanda. She stood up and began to herd him towards the door. “{If anything happens with the baby, we will call you. Go use up some of that energy. Okay?}”

He looked at you over Wanda’s shoulder, and you nodded.

“{You could check on Odeta? I feel bad for foisting her onto Steve like that},” you said.

“{I will},” said Pietro. “{Call me if anything happens, okay? Anything}.”

“{We will},” said Wanda. Pietro sped from the room. She leant against the wall and sighed. “{I love my brother but he can be exhausting}.”

“{I love your brother too},” you said. “{That’s why I married him}.” You giggled. Even though you’d been married a couple of months now, it still felt surreal to say.

She returned to her seat beside you. “{Do you need anything?}”

You sighed. You didn’t think there was anything that concrete that would help right now. You were just stuck in waiting mode.

“{Just keep me company?}”

“{That I can do}.��

“{So… How are things going with Vision?}” It wasn’t something you could talk to her about in front of Pietro. He didn’t like or trust Vision, and you were getting sick of the two of them arguing about it.

“{Really well}.” She gave you a shy smile. “{I thought… I thought that maybe once Pietro was better, I would feel different. Like maybe I only liked him because he was kind to me when I needed him. But it’s not just that. He’s smart and he’s funny and sweet. And I think he really likes me}.”

“{I think he does too}.” You had seen the way he looked at her. “{I’m happy for you}.”

You were about to say more, but then another contraction hit you. You gasped in pain and threw out your hand.

“{Contraction?}” Wanda asked, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. Too pained to speak, you just nodded. “{Okay, okay, just breathe with me, okay?}” You tried to match her breathing. It helped a little, but it still hurt. You rode out the wave of the contraction, squeezing her hand, and when the pain subsided, you slumped back onto your pillows. “{Better?}”

“{Better.}

When Pietro returned, his hair was wet. He had changed into comfortable, clean clothes, and there were damp patches around his collar. He stooped to kiss your forehead, and you caught a whiff of his shampoo.

“{Did you shower?}” you asked, pushing a lock of damp hair behind his ear.

“{I hope that’s okay? I was sweaty after running around}.”

“{Of course it’s okay}.” You tugged him towards you so that you could kiss his cheek. “{How is Odeta?}”

“{Steve is happy to look after her for the moment, but if there are any issues, Tony has staff on hand to look after her. You don’t need to worry, my sweet girl}.”

He pecked you on the lips, and your eyes fluttered shut. “{Good}.”

To your eternal gratitude, the doctor let Wanda stay with you and Pietro throughout the birth. One of them stood on each side of the bed, clasping your hands tightly in their own.

“{You’re doing so well, sweet girl},” murmured Pietro, “{I love you so much}.”

You began to sob then. You had heard plenty of stories of women screaming horrible things at their husbands during birth, but you didn’t have that urge. Any anger you might’ve felt turned to despair. You were afraid. You weren’t ready for this. You were too young, and so was Pietro.

Gasping, you squeezed Wanda and Pietro’s hands again. Your chest was heaving with sobs, and you were stalled.

“{You need to breathe, sweetheart},” said Wanda, smoothing your hair out of your face. You were drenched in sweat, certain you looked a mess right now. You gasped and shuddered, but couldn’t steady yourself.

“{Breathe with me},” said Pietro, and the two of them started doing the breathing the doctor had showed you. You tried to mimic it, but sobs kept breaking through, disrupting the rhythm.

“{It hurts, Piet},” you whimpered.

“{I know, baby. But you’ve got to breathe}.”

“{You don’t know},” you said, feeling too weak to say anything else.

“You’re almost there,” said the doctor. “Push. Push.”

“I am pushing!” you yelled. Your heart hurt. You felt like you might die. Pietro was holding you, his arm around your shoulders and his hand gripping yours. He was whispering sweet words to you, but you could barely hear him. You pushed.

And then it was over.

You heard your baby crying, and your jaw dropped. Even through the haze of pain, something primal activated within you, and you knew you had to hold your child. Pietro wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was staring at the baby that the doctor was holding. It was a boy. Your son.

“You still need to pass the placenta,” said the doctor. A nurse brought your baby over and placed him into your arms. You blinked.

Nothing in the world could’ve prepared you for how you felt in that moment. He was so tiny and precious and strange. He barely looked human, and it would be a while before he could open his eyes. You could see Pietro in the ridge of his brow, the shape of his nose. Your heart had never felt so full.

They were still telling you to push. You did as you were told, although it now felt like you were just a gaping wound down there.

The nurse ushered Pietro over to cut the umbilical cord. His hand was trembling as he did so. When he was done, he stepped back, and Wanda grabbed his hand.

You don’t know how long they let you hold your son, but soon, the nurse returned to you.

“We’re just gonna get him cleaned up for you, okay?” she said. Reluctantly, you let her take him from your arms. Immediately, you felt empty. “And weigh him and just do a couple of minor tests. It’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

You watched forlornly as they took your son away. Pietro was by your side immediately again, taking your hand and kissing the top of your head.

It felt like an age before they handed him back to you, with all the blood and goop wiped free from him. The severed umbilical cord was tied in a knot, and they’d put a diaper on him. You lifted him up to your face and inhaled his smell.

“{Can I hold him?}” Pietro asked quietly. You had almost forgotten he was there. For a moment, you felt guilty. Pietro had been your world. But you had a son now. Your world was bigger.

Carefully, you passed him into Pietro’s arms. His eyes were very wide as he stared down at his son.

“{He’s beautiful},” he whispered.

Once he’d had his first feed, your son was a bit more active. He flailed and kicked around, trying to discover this strange new world around him using all of his limbs. He grabbed Pietro’s finger in his tiny fist and squeezed, and Pietro’s mouth fell open. You’d never forget the look in your husband’s eyes in that moment.

For your part, you were exhausted. You relished holding him, but you also enjoyed the breaks you got when Pietro and Wanda both took turns. Your entire body ached, you were hungry, you were sore and your nipples were leaking. You just wanted to sleep.

After a couple of hours, the doctors said you could go back to your room. You were exceptionally sore, but you could walk, so you managed to make it mostly unassisted.

Wanda held your son so that Pietro would be free to catch you if you stumbled. As soon as you got back to your rooms, the baby began to fuss and cry. Pietro plumped up some pillows for you on the couch, and Wanda handed the baby back to you so that you could feed him.

“{How are you feeling?}” Pietro asked, stroking your hair out of your face.

“{More exhausted that I’ve been in my life. And like I need a shower}.”

He made a sympathetic noise, and murmured, “{Soon}.”

When your son had calmed down again, Wanda took over. She was taking to her duties as aunt very quickly. She rocked him and cooed at him while Pietro helped you shower. The baby was still calm when you emerged, so you got into bed.

“{Wake me if he needs anything},” you said to Pietro, voice hazy with sleep.

“{I will, my love}.” He kissed your forehead.

As it turned out, you didn’t need Pietro to wake you. As soon as your baby made a soft crying sound, you were awake instantly, your breasts sore and leaking. At least you’d managed to get a few hours of sleep.

“{Give him to me},” you said to Pietro, who was trying to rock him back to sleep. He handed him over, and then shifted another pillow behind you so you could sit up more easily. “{Where’s Wanda?}”

“{Asleep}.” Pietro settled down next to you on the bed. “{It’s late. She said to call her if we need anything, any time}.”

You exhaled, eternally grateful for aunt Wanda.

When your son started being able to keep his eyes open, you decided it was time to introduce him to Odeta. Pietro was nervous about the idea at first, but Odeta had always been gentle with you. Besides, Pietro would be there. There was no way she would be able to hurt the baby with his superspeedy dad running interference.

Wanda opened the door, and Odeta bounded over to see you, barking. It had been days. She had clearly missed you. At the commotion, your son opened his eyes and began to cry.

“{Shh, shh, my love. My sweet boy},” you murmured. Odeta back off immediately, looking chastened and confused. She stared at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Odeta?”

Cautiously, she took a step forward. And then another. When she got close enough, she sniffed at your son. Pietro was right beside you, ready to act if anything went wrong. Odeta nuzzled against your hand. You petted her gently.

“{Odeta, this is Olek. Olek, meet Odeta}.” The two of you agreed that you were going to name your son after Pietro’s father. It had seemed right. Wanda had teared up when you told her.

Olek stared at Odeta. He reached out his tiny hand and touched her nose, and then pulled back when he found that it was wet. Odeta stayed very still throughout the exchange. Carefully, you guided Olek’s hand so that he stroked the fur at the top of her nose. Again, Odeta stayed frozen. When you were done, Olek closed his eyes, and went straight to sleep.

From then, it was hard to drag Odeta from Olek’s side. She slept under his crib, with the posture of a guard dog. It brought you a lot of comfort to know that if anyone wanted to hurt Olek, that would not only have to go through you, your super-powered husband, and an aunt with mind control powers, but also a faithful guard dog.

And sometimes those early weeks were hard. Your body ached with the pains of childbirth. Your breasts were constantly sore and swollen and leaking. And sometimes you couldn’t stop your son from crying, no matter how hard you tried.

But you got through it. Because you weren’t alone. You had Pietro. And Wanda. Odeta. The rest of the Avengers.

And more importantly, you knew you could get through it, because you were a survivor. You had survived Sokovia, after all. You all had.

---

Notes:

Thank you for reading. Who knows, maybe some day I'll write a sequel, but I definitely need a break rn

#pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff fluff #aaron taylor-johnson x reader

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mikkokomori · 3 months

Note

Some more Bounty Hunter AU:

In the early days of his "career," Sunny, being the novice that he is, would sometimes come home late with injuries.

Mari would admittedly get irritated with him for taking so long, being the perfectionist that she is, especially when it came past time to practice together; but that quickly turned to worry when she saw his sorry state. Nothing too serious, but definitely strange with how many cuts and bruises he had. Every single time she asked, Sunny would excuse his absence as helping a classmate study in the library, and the injuries as him being very clumsy (like tripping on his own feet, or falling down a short flight of stairs).

When the incident with the broken violin happened, and Mari's near death by the stairs, Sunny only apologizes before running out of the house.

He comes back with a few hours later with a brand new violin that he rented. He uses the same excuse he did with Mewo's vet bills, that the money came from him saving up.

They resume practicing for the recital, but this time it's very awkward. Sunny bottles his frustration back up even as his fingers are aching and stinging from sliding across the strings so much, and Mari is now a little suspicious, because even if rented, that new violin must have cost a lot, right? And as far as everyone else knows, Sunny's too young to have a part-time job.

When their parents come home, they notice that Sunny's violin looks different. Mari, afraid of how their dad will react, passes off the broken violin as an accident. Sunny tripped on the stairs and the force of the impact was enough to break it. Naturally, Dad is very mad about Sunny being "clumsy" and breaking such an expensive item; but thankfully not as mad as he definitely would have if he learned Sunny broke it on purpose.

The recital goes off without a hitch. Sunny's fingertips have started to bleed, but he manages to hide them well until it's time to call it a night. Mari spots the band-aids and feels bad about pushing him so much for the past several weeks; so the next morning she helps their mom cook Sunny's choice of foods throughout the day as an apology and a reward for his efforts, and goes with him to return the violin to the rental shop. On Sunny's part, he's just relieved the rest of that night had gone by without anymore incidents.

Shit finally hits the fan again weeks later when one of Sunny's "jobs" goes horribly wrong.

It's a tall order this time, kind of like the very first boss in a Fromsoft game. An actual felon who got busted in a drug ring and had someone (most likely a relative) pay bail.

Like before, he tells his family that he is studying with Basil (and actually does study with him late into the evening as prepwork) and will be home late; when really, he is hunting down a fugitive.

Except the fugitive is somehow armed and manages to clip Sunny in the clavicle (the collarbone).

Sunny has no other option but to retreat.

Even though his injury hurts so much, he still manages to make it back to his little hideout to put away his weapons and equipment before staggering back to the road to call emergency services. He tips off the police of where he last saw the "random" guy who shot him "for no reason," and lets himself pass out from blood loss when the ambulance arrives.

When he wakes up, the bills for surgery and treatment are rather hefty. Dad is furious, demanding to know what the hell Sunny was doing out so late. Even though Mom and Mari bring up that Sunny already let them know he was coming home late, and that he was shot on the way home, Dad is too angry to listen. (Mari was sobbing the entire time. Her baby brother almost died!)

When Sunny is finally discharged from the hospital, he stops his afterschool "activities" to recover, ease Mom and Mari's worries, and also lay low since the police are still questioning him over his whereabouts that night. (Mewo sticks with him the entire time~)

Investigators ask about the odd gap in-between him and Basil parting, and Sunny going home, because it surprisingly took him a little longer than expected. Sunny excuses that as him not feeling ready to go home yet and wanting to take a little detour for a moment of peaceful solitude. His "alibi" is otherwise solid enough.

Dad, on the other hand, is angry with the slight (but unintentional) implication about their home life (i.e. abuse and neglect) even though it is most certainly what happens often. A few weeks after the questioning has ceased, he finally leaves and never comes back, leaving Mom to pay the rest of Sunny's hospital bills.

Mari is having none of it and gets a part-time job in the shop Sunny rented a violin from.

Sunny's not having any of it either, but it's all he can do to resist offering up more than $20 - $30 without his mother and sister becoming suspicious. He only managed to get away with the $50 they know and witnessed him receive from their grandparents and other folks during Lunar New Years.

Grandparents are the best and send gift baskets and cards with $100s. The gang, of course, also pitches in; and Hero is the best big brother figure and researches advice and tips on gunshot wound recovery.

Mewo is just the sweetest little fella and follows Sunny everywhere~

All Sunny can think about is how his secret almost got out, and he metaphorically dodged a bullet.

(Apologies for the late response!) I would say as a small thing to add on, while not important (and I'm not sure if you mentioned this in the last ask that you've sent in the past), is if you made him wear more oversized clothing's and perhaps have some bandages in some places.......

#omori #Bounty Hunter AU #omori sunny #omori mari #omori au #omori fanart #omori spoilers #mikkos art #sunnys doodles #anon asks #miko talks

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princematcha · 2 years

Text

(till i) run with you

bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

contains: rdr gets called ‘girl’ once, no real gendered terms or pronouns other than that, rdr does wear a dress, mostly sfw save for some cussing and nsfw related jokes, drug mentions (mary wanna) and alcohol mentions(and usage??), everyone’s bi including rdr, rdr is in grad school and bkg has graduated, not edited

a/n: sorry i listened to too many 60′s and 70′s songs and started thinking abt a band au, let’s say xmen days of future past au because i wanted to keep mina pink

wc: 2369 words

Smoke billows out of your mouth as you stare off toward the pretty girl on the drums. Big pink curls held back by a black and white gingham hair band, hazy spotlight shining on her giving a halo. Sweat drips down the side of her forehead when she hits the hi-hat, you can see her arms flexing through her loose bell sleeves from across the bar.

She spins a drumstick on one of her pink knuckles, yellow irises flashing up to you with a wink. Normally you’d feel a touch embarrassed to get caught staring. You recognize most of the group from campus, anyone’s eye would get attracted to something nice to look at in class. Quickly looking away if any of them accidentally looked in your direction. But tonight you ash your joint in the tray on the tacky bartop next to you, smiling at her. You’ll have to thank Camie for the smoke-flavored courage.

Camie dances closer to the stage, her silk green slip dress swaying and rising along with her arms. A tactical, well-thought-out move. She told you she was trying to take one of the band members home tonight, “any one of ‘em will do, if I can get more though…” she winked before you left her dorm earlier. You think she probably has the blond guy on keys in her pocket. You should probably call dibs before she gets the girl too.

As the orange embers creep closer to your fingers, you put out the roach and go back to watching the band. Looking at the stage is like peering through calcium-stained glass, a warm combination of smoke and the old spotlights from the theatre next door makes the whole room hot.

The redhead looks like he’s putting his whole soul into the guitar, dark eyebrows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut. His sweat-soaked white button-up does nothing to hide the finely cut body beneath it. The greek god of a man, some textbook you read last week probably contained a sculpture resembling this holy display. Suspenders straining over his broad shoulders. Is it legal for an entire group to be this foxy?

Camie’s boy hasn’t stopped making eyes at her ever since she grooved her way to the front. A real pretty boy, you could see your hands running through his golden hair, see if that black zig-zag over the side was natural. You’ll see if Camie’s in a sharing mood tonight. Though you’re not sure if you are, you sure do love the drums.

Your eyes trail behind the greek god and land on the bass player. You’re not sure how you missed him, though the sticky sweet of Gimlet in your throat answers that for you. Bright, deep red eyes burn in your direction. Is he looking at you? Nah, you glance towards the top shelf bourbon and whiskey behind you, sweaty man probably wants a stiff one.

And it might be the gin speaking for you, but it almost looked like he smirked when you met his eye. With the mean look and scrunched bridge, he also could’ve had an itchy nose.

Sweaty, but still– pretty. You didn’t think you could say pretty so many times in a song, but tonight’s full of firsts. Big calloused hands pluck at the strings of the bass, muscles flexing with every move. You’ve never seen a man look so beautiful in a tight orange sweater-tee, showing off a slim waist tapered into black slacks.

Pink hair winked at you first though, and you’re a sucker for a drummer.

(Unless there’s a compelling offer.)

When their set is over, Camie is quick to lay game down hard and sweet on the pretty boy from the keys. Denki, she purred to you as she passed, her hand squeezing your thigh before leading him to the end of the bar. Denki’s eyes glued to her the whole way down.

You watch as the girl heaves a large case with ease on top of one of the speakers, deciding now is a good chance to talk her up.

“What are ya drinkin?”

The sudden gruff voice next to your ear makes you jump, slipping straight off of the bar stool. You look to the side and the bassist is sitting on the rickety, rust-colored stool next to yours. And he dwarfs the seat in a way that makes it look a bit too small for him. It’s much darker on this side of the venue, not to mention he looked much smaller on that stage. Almost intimidating when he’s right in front of you.

He leans towards you, eyes like a lion circling- side of his mouth twitching when you move your head away from him but your feet force you to stand your ground, “Know what you’re smokin,” he chuckles, low and rumbly, “Good grass from what I can tell.”

You scoot back onto your stool, looking for any sense of composing yourself even as you can feel him picking you apart in his mind. You smile and hold his eye contact as you grab your glass, wet from condensation, and swallow the rest of the drink. “Nothing anymore,” you remark. You slip some green under the cup and turn back around to see if you can chase, but something is pinching the back of your white dress.

You squint at him, “Let go, bass boy.”

He turns his head to the side, “Bakugou.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let go, Bakugou.” He says.

The name Bakugou does something for you. What was it? The disk jockey places a new record on the player as your brain flickers through the files that hold Bakugou.

He looks you up and down with little decorum as your thoughts stall, grinning when recognition snaps into place in your eyes.

First year of uni. Teacher’s assistant that everyone had a crush on. Mean as all hell, but a gift straight from God’s ass as a tutor.

The first time you got something below a B in your statistics course, you stared at his beat-up loafers while asking what days he has free TA hours because you were terrified to look him in the eyes.

You turn to him fully and he releases you, waiting to see how you respond.

“Bakugou?” You stare at him and he flicks his gaze over your face, “What the fuck?”

It’s been almost five years— still the hot TA in your mind though. Sitting in study rooms while he nudged you for the next question and you steeling your will to pretend he wasn’t the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. That’s fresh in your mind as well. Still true.

God, he’s fuckin fit.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

You move to snap at him, but falter when he takes your glass and tilts his head back to take one of the ice cubes. Watching as he swirls it over his tongue, then crunches it in his molars.

“Ah,” Bakugou grunts, “Look who’s drinking hard spirits like a big girl.”

You find yourself sitting on the stool before you know it.

(You’re too focused on the bartender stirring your drink with precision to see the drummer walk by with a wink to Bakugou and a brunette on her arm. He’s blushing when you glance back at him.)

You laugh as you press your temple to your palm, elbow sticking to the counter, almost empty drink in your hand. You don’t remember Bakugou being quite the conversationalist, but you have no complaints now.

“How did you even recognize me?” You gesture to yourself, ice cubes swirling in the glass, “And then why would you come over, I don’t think I was that interesting to tutor— unless I was your worst student. Don’t answer that.”

He snorts at that, grabbing your drink out of your hand and placing it back on the wood, “Don’t sell yourself short.” Bakugou nods to the now empty stage, “And you weren't my worst, fuckin idiot on keys was hell on wheels to teach.”

You snicker and point loosely to distant corners of the bar, “I swear some other alums you tutored were here too.”

You look over at him again, but he’s already facing you. Eyes on yours, but not in that burning, fiery way like earlier. It’s just warm now, something to swirl and get lost in. You find yourself leaning towards him but you swear it’s not because of him. You’re just a little tipsy, you think. Bakugou presses towards you as well, at the same slow drifting pace of the music.

You stop when his knee hits the plastic leather of your stool, his figure nearly looming over yours.

“Maybe I came over-”

“Because I never gave you back that watch?”

“—because someone wouldn’t stop eyefucking my band.”

You fling back like a rubber band when he whispers, spine straight as a rod. He smiles at your expression, a mean glint in his eye.

“I absolutely was not.”

“Really?” He asks. You were never much of a liar.

But there’s no point in not trying. “Really.”

“So you weren’t hitting on Mina?” You stare at him so he tries again, “My drummer.”

You blink at him for a second before turning around and taking in the people you could see around the place, “Oh my god the drummer.”

He made you lose the drummer. Bakugou cackles like a hyena at your despair.

(He buys you a basket of fries at the diner next door as an apology. Though he does eat half of them which lessened the sentiment in your opinion.)

You stare at the concrete of the paved paths weaving through the campus as you and Bakugou walk side by side back to the dorms. It’s quiet and shiny with early morning dew as you make your way back.

He told you that he was walking you back to the dorms while you were hopping down the steps of the diner. You had no real complaints, you had a feeling that you might’ve woken up next to the university mascot’s statue if he didn’t accompany you.

Though now you’re not sure how to feel. The warmth radiating off of your cheeks and the man next to you makes you feel like you just finished a nice date. But that wasn’t a date. That was just- That was-

It was two old fri- Hm. Acquaintances? Associates? Teacher and student? That one makes you feel off. Teacher’s assistant and pal. You cringe. Pal?

Rattling off different ways in your head to define your relationship with Bakugou, you don’t notice him slowing down near your dorm building. He clears his throat when you’re a few feet ahead of him.

“Oh!” You turn.

You stare at him as he stands under the streetlamp in front of the dorms. The background seems to crumble away the longer you take him in. The soft light blond of his hair looks heavenly at this time between night and day. Cold air nipping at his cheeks. He looks heavenly in this time between night and day.

You’re not bold or sober enough to invite him up.

So you guess this is goodbye for now.

“So-”

“Breakfast tomorrow.” Bakugou pushes the words out of his mouth like they are boiling on his tongue.

“What?” You rub your eyes to see if that will help you hear words that have already been said.

“Hell. What day is it now? Today? Tomorrow? I don’t fuckin know when. As soon as possible.”

You’re not sure but you love whatever day today is.

“I just,” you watch as he rocks from foot to foot, hands in his pockets. You never thought you’d see a nervous Bakugou. “It’s been a while and I-” He starts walking over and stops right in front of you. You’re too busy taking in the sight to even think of moving. “I just gotta see you again. If you’re okay with that. If you want.”

Something roils over in your stomach mixed with confusion. He’s gotta see you again?

If you were sober, you’d see the precious, delicate moment in your hands. A version of Bakugou you only ever got glimpses of when nights got a little too late in the library, when he came over to your dorm and you made him his favorite tea, keeping company and telling stories from your classes while he graded assignments. If you were sober you’d see the glimpse become a moment, enveloping the man as he is.

But you aren’t.

“Are you sweet on me?” You crinkle your nose and wag a finger at him.

Bakugou is perplexed, with a hint of bewilderment. “Am I sweet on you? Are you- What! What else would I- A whole year of- How did you lose more of that brain the longer you were in school?”

You were too lost in how he interrupted himself several times, “What?”

“Yes,” He grits out, “I am.” Bakugou turns you around and starts pushing you toward your dormitory’s front door.

“And I am going to be here in the morning to remind you because you’re drunk. And you’re not gonna remember a goddamn word I say, so listen to me when I say:”

He stops you abruptly and spins you around, hands warm on your shoulders, “If you say yes, I am taking you out and you’re going to fall the fuck in love with me and I am going to occupy all the empty spaces in your mind to make up for the years you put me through.”

You blink up at him.

Bakugou grabs the key ring out of your hands, reaches behind you, opens the door, and walks you backwards inside. Placing the key ring back into your hand, he walks back to the door and gives you one look before he closes it, “It’s only fair.”

(He was right and you did wake up with very little memory of the night before. Breakfast with him was amazing though, good god the man can cook. So sweet of him to offer. You spilt hot coffee on your lap when he asked you to get dinner with him while he washed the dishes. You said yes.)

#i haven’t written in months so if it’s bad take it up w god #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bnha x reader #tw alcohol #tw weed #tw drugs

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moonslesbology · 10 months

Text

The Lucky One II

previous chapter - next chapter

ELEANOR EVES COULD LAY BESIDES FINNICK ODAIR, WATCHING THE SAME SUNSET OVER AND OVER AGAIN, AND NEVER GET BORED. It sounded odd to say, wanting the same moment to repeat over and over again, but it felt right to her. There was nothing more peaceful than the serenity on Finnick's tanned face, kissed by the sun's grace , his sea green eyes drawn to the sky as he simply stared. He had not had a moment of peace like this in a while, too caught up in the terrors of nightmares and memories to truly enjoy a moment wholeheartedly. Yet, here he was, bathing in the sun's glory, genuinely happy.

Laos Bay had the most beautiful sights in the District, Eleanor was convinced.

It had been Annie's suggestion, a statement she made the moment the pair found her down The Quay, helping her brother cut the heads off some fish their father had caught. Annie Cresta was one of the few people Eleanor knew that genuinely did not mind getting dirty down the docks, revelling in the gruesome nature of fishing. It was quite easy to spot the girl though (something Finnick actively disagreed with). The red haired girl was in plain sight, immediately noticed by Eleanor who cheered when she saw Annie. Turns out, Finnick was just really blind and did not notice the Cresta family's red hair in the sea of sun bleached hair. After much begging from Annie, Mr Cresta, albeit reluctantly, allowed for the trio to huddle away to go to the rock pools. He simply reminded Annie that she needed to be back before six, so she can help unload the fish being sent off to the Capitol.

The trio ultimately decided Laos Bay was the best place to go and muck about, especially because of the rock pools Annie desperately wanted to find shells in.

While Annie scoured the rock pools eagerly, Eleanor and Finnick decided to lay besides each other and watch the clouds. It did not matter that their scalps would be aching of sand, all that mattered for them was the pure peace of this moment. Finnick was a lot quieter, simply listening to Eleanor's nonsensical rambling. It was something that often occurred, Eleanor ranting her soul out and Finnick holding her soul delicately in his grasp. Eleanor was busy pointing out all the drawings she could create from the sky, Finnick simply listening. She would ramble her heart off to him for the rest of her life if she could.

Eleanor hoped that she could do that forever.

It was obvious that the anxiety of the Reaping was getting to them. The fateful day, July 4th, was just a week away and the entire district was preparing. People in the Trawler began hanging banners up and shop windows became pre-occupied with signs highlighting Reaping Day specials. St Magdalene Rossetti was also preparing to shut the blinds for a while, until the Reaping ceremony had passed. Majority of the staff were safe from the Reaping, though many had children who were still eligible. Eleanor had already put herself forward to take the later shift that day, practically going straight into work right after the Reaping ceremony passed.

Annie's name was in the Reaping bowl a total of seventeen times, fourteen of those slips of paper being directly from tesserae. Eleanor was only in the bowl four times due to her fortune as a girl from The Trawler, especially one who worked at St Magdalene Rossetti. Her family had never fallen on hard times and when they had, there was always someone who was willing to help them get by.

But, Eleanor also knew that the anxiety of mentoring was far worse for Finnick. As the newest victor, he had a duty to uphold for the tributes, training them and then watching their days in the arena. He had completely broken down after last year's game; two kids, both seventeen, had refused to listen to any advice Finnick could offer them, and were betrayed by the Career Pack the moment the number of tributes dropped to eight. He had nightmares for weeks after he came home, often ending up at Eleanor's in a sobbing mess.

Eleanor dreaded seeing him in such a state again.

"So, do you see the dog now?" Eleanor asked, after explaining why the cloud he pointed out were not just clouds and were so much more. It was easy to forget that not everyone saw the same thing as you did.

"No." Finnick laughed, jumping slightly when she grabbed his hand, delicately pointing his pointer finger to the sky. She could feel him relax ever so slightly, her touch warm and gentle. "Oh, that looks more like a cabbage than a dog."

"A cabbage?" Eleanor sat up quickly, Finnick copying her motion and laughing. Of course Finnick Odair lacked the creativity to see sights in the clouds. He was one of the few literal minded people Eleanor could tolerate, his literal minded state being the only thing that held Eleanor back from floating away. Eleanor pouted at him, crossing her arms with a judging glance. "Am I the only one blessed with imagination?"

Finnick gestured to where Annie Cresta was in response, busy with a bucket as she grabbed onto any shells she could find. Of course, Eleanor was not the only imaginative person out of the trio, Annie was just as imaginative and had a level of practicalness that Finnick had. She was the perfect mix of the two in that sense. The pair watched as Annie cheered, holding up another auger shell Eleanor knew she would be giving to her younger sister. Annie had way too much energy to truly stay still, bouncing around on the rock pools happily. Eleanor was tempted to join the red haired girl, although the peaceful look on Finnick's face was too beautiful to miss.

"I wish moments like these lasted forever." Eleanor mumbled, leaning down ever so slightly to rest her head on Finnick's shoulder, hands already finding each others as though they were infinitely connected by magnets. "Sometimes, it's easy to forget society exists outside of this little bubble."

Finnick watched her with a curious glance. Before he could say anything, a shriek echoed.

"ELE COME HERE!" It was Annie. Of course it was Annie. "I FINALLY FOUND A SHELL FOR YOU!" Eleanor perked up as she saw Annie bouncing up and down, holding something in her hand. If there was anything you needed to know about Annie Cresta, it was that she adored shells more than life itself. Her entire bedroom was decorated with the shells she had found, she had painted tapestries of shells she imagined in her daydreams, and her love language was finding shells that matched each person she ever met.

Eleanor let out a loud laugh, getting up off the sand, quickly dusting her skirt off, and then eagerly running to where Annie was. She turned her head back, seeing Finnick still looking at the sky with a confused face.

She shook her head at him, finally walking on the side of the rocks carefully. The moment she got close to Annie, the red head thrusted a cockle at her. The cockle itself was as ordinary as it could be - pure white with a faint line of orange.Eleanor rubbed her thumb over the smooth edges of the shell, delicate as she held it. A smile, as wide as it could possibly be, was making its way on her face as she listened to Annie's unapologetic rambling about how pretty the cockle was. Annie rambled about how odd it was for cockles to be this white and Eleanor simply listened.

Annie simply grinned. "Oh my god, I know what I'm going to do!" She laughed, taking the cockle and pocketing it. Though, the moment she turned to explain the idea to Eleanor, the girl was busy holding a hermit crab in her hands with a grin. Eleanor was entirely focused on the small creature, gently holding them.

"Awe, look!" She held her cupped hands up towards Annie, who simply smiled at her, eyes wide with adoration as Eleanor cooed at the hermit crab. Eleanor didn't notice Annie's smile drop ever so slightly when she called over to Finnick, laughing freely the moment he yelped at the crab.

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