#got to love that sweet sweet smell of trauma | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 3 months

Text

Sweet Like Wine

Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav

Summary: Your monthly bleed is over—just in time for you and Astarion to find yourselves with a bit of alone time. You might not be able to feed your vampire as easily, but there's another hunger for the two of you to satiate.

Word Count: 9,154 words of filth

Warnings: sexual content (18+), soft Astarion, vulnerable Astarion, slightly insecure Astarion, mention of past sexual trauma, pet names, Astarion still doesn't realize he's loved for more than his body,

18+ Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving, m receiving), touching over clothes, naked grinding, bite kink, blood kink, soft sex, creampie, aftercare, use of the words pussy, dick, cunt & cock, mentions of reader's period

Burns Like Rum (part 1) found {here}

Epilogue Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine coming soon!

Note: Thank you for all the love on the first part! I'm glad everyone loved it! Here's the second part :)

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Rain was coming. You had smelled it on the air for several days now, an altogether pleasant scent that reminded you of fast-flowing rivers in a pine forest, distinctly earthy and cold.

The first day you'd smelled it, so had Astarion, stopping every few seconds to sneeze and then complain about his heightened sense of smell being trigged by weather.

You had taken to sleeping in Astarion’s tent with him over the past few days, enjoying each other’s company while you waited for your period to end. He was enjoying getting fed nightly, and you were enjoying learning about him after he gave you the night of your life.

Well, enjoying was perhaps not the right word for your experience. You were glad he trusted you enough to tell you about the things Cazador had made him do. You were grateful he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with you. But your heart broke every time he told you a little more, his voice low and tired and broken, reciting his past like it was a crime he was ready to be locked up for. And, by gods, how your hatred for Cazador grew.

It wasn’t like you had ever liked the thought of Astarion’s vampiric master. Anyone who had killed this man (who you weren’t quite sure how you felt about but knew you cared for more than anyone else you’d ever known) was evil in your book. But Cazador... Cazador made devils look like saints in your eyes.

You packed up the last remnants of your camp the morning after Astarion had whispered to you about his year encased in stone, slight trembles in his body and growing more violent the longer he'd talked. You'd held him close that night, holding his hand and sliding your fingers through his hair to comfort him. But now you were brooding in the weak morning sun, contemplating which way you'd most like to kill Cazador.

Not that you would—that right was Astarion's, should he wish it. If the time came and he decided he couldn't do it alone, well, then you'd employ one of your many planned strategies to make that bastard suffer for everything he'd done to Astarion and his siblings.

You had decided last night to move on from the place you'd been camped for over a week. You'd been there too long; people had begun to stumble upon your tents, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized Astarion was a vampire or that Gale had a weapon in his chest and decided to try and kill them.

Wyll had gone scouting last night before the sun had set and had reported a town in the distance—near enough to reach before sunset, but only if you got moving as soon as dawn broke. So, you got up early, woke up your grouchy companions, and started breaking down camp. You were on the road less than an hour later.

You walked beside Astarion, both of you weighed down by your packs, your hands swinging beside each other. The backs of your hands kept brushing. You were so distracted by it and the thought that maybe, just maybe, you would take his hand the next time they brushed, that you didn't notice the others watching.

A twinge in your side made you hiss and bring your other arm to it, on the place of an old scar. The pain was a familiar, soft throb—a telling sign that the storm you'd been smelling was getting closer.

"Is your wound still alright?" Shadowheart asked you, shocking you out of your mind, and gesturing to your abdomen. The gash had healed up nicely, little more than some light, pale scarring now, but the phantom pains lingered. They struck at random and had become a cause of concern amongst the entire camp.

You nodded. "It's fine. I haven't felt anything yet. It's just...old wounds acting up."

"Let me know if you need anything," she said, which was a phrase you'd heard at least three times a day since the day you'd gotten the wound. This time, though, she sounded even more worried than normal.

You supposed she had more than enough reason to be worried—this was the first time you'd done this much moving since you'd been injured. You hadn't had to travel or hunt since then, and even your nights with Astarion between your legs kept you on your back with your calves thrown over his shoulders.

Not that Shadowheart knew that, exactly, but she had extracted a promise out of him not to let you do anything that might reopen the wound, which also meant Astarion had refused to let you take him in your mouth, afraid that such a position would be too much for you.

"I'm okay," you promised her, trying to keep the exasperation out of your voice.

You must have failed at doing so, because Astarion whispered a moment later, "She's just trying to keep you safe."

You deflated a little. "I...I know. I'm just...tired of being treated like a glass doll. I'm healed. I can handle myself."

"I know, she's just worried... We're all worried," he added, and you knew that 'we' included himself, a recent development when it came to any kind of emotion.

"I'll be okay," you promised.

"You better be," he said, finally taking your hand in his. Giddiness spread through you like wildfire. Astarion smiled at you and you got the feeling he knew you'd been dying for that to happen. "You're too cute to die on me now."

You rolled your eyes. "Well, I'll try my best."

Astarion looked at you with a fondness that had recently appeared in his eyes; it was a look you loved, one that made your entire body grow warm every time you caught him looking at you like that. You leaned into his side, letting him kiss the top of your head gently. You smiled up at him, ready to thank him for the open display of intimacy.

And then something in his eyes changed, a sparkle in the crimson. A smile twitched on his lips. For a moment, it looked like he might say something—only for his gaze to slide to the others, walking just ahead of you as if they knew to give you privacy. The sparkle to fizzled out.

"What is it?" you asked quietly.

"Walk faster, friends!" Gale called back to you. "The clouds aren't promising, that storm you've been complaining about will be upon us soon!"

"Later," Astarion said to you. "I'll tell you later."

He squeezed your hand and quickened his pace to catch up with the rest of your companions.

~❊~

Mercifully, the long day of traveling wasn't made longer—or more painful—by a fight of any kind, only by the miserable weather. Halfway through the day, the rain had begun in the form of slow, fat raindrops. By now, it was coming down fast and hard, almost painful when it hit your body, even with your many layers of clothing.

Wyll's estimation had been a little generous; the sun, though you couldn't see it, had already set by the time you got close enough to see windows in the buildings of the town, almost every one with a candle glowing on the windowsill.

"Isn't that just quaint," Astarion murmured as the muddy river of a dirt road beneath your feet slowly transitioned into cobblestones covered in at least an inch of water. "Gods, I hope this place has a good tavern."

"I hope it has an open inn," you said. "Everything hurts."

"Your wound?" he asked, frowning and automatically putting a hand on your abdomen.

You shook your head. "No—that's fine. Just my muscles are killing me from all this walking, and old injuries are acting up. It's the storm, I knew it was coming."

Lae'zel frowned. "Are you capable of sensing the weather? Why haven't you used this trick before?"

Shadowheart giggled behind her hand and got control of herself only when the gith's head snapped toward her.

You blinked. "It— I'm not actually able to do that, Lae. It's just that old wounds ache before storms. Lots of people have that. It's...kind of an old wives' tale, I guess?"

"She was right, though," Gale said, squinting up at the sky. His hood fell from his head. "The storm came when she thought it would."

Astarion sidled closer to you, smirking, and curled a hand around your waist. Under his breath, he teased, "Perhaps I...kept you awake too late last night, didn't I? Feeling a little soreness between those lovely legs?"

You rolled your eyes but leaned into his touch. "Don't you start."

The group walked further down the main thoroughfare, slowly spreading across the street, each one looking up at the signs on the buildings. Almost everything was closed: a few tailors' shops, a perfumery, an outdoor food market with empty vendor stalls.

Music drifted from one of the few open storefronts. Warm golden light spilled out onto the cobblestone street through the windows. Raucous laughter joined the jaunty sound of a bard's music. Inside, you could see tables packed with patrons, all singing in various states of drunkenness—and all safe from the storm outside.

Wyll gestured forward. "There's your tavern, Astarion."

Astarion grinned, his fangs flashing in the low light. "Who's up for a drink?"

"Maybe later," you said.

Pointedly, Wyll added, "Once we find an inn and rooms for the night. I'd rather not make camp out here in this damp."

"What, the Blade of Frontier's doesn't know how to rough it through bad weather?" Astarion teased.

"Stop taunting him and let's find an inn," you said, nudging him gently. "I just...want to go to bed, really."

"Alright," Astarion said, that sparkle back in his eyes again. "A good, long night's rest it is, then."

You moved further down the street. Karlach spotted the inn a few doors down and the group filed in through the door, just as thunder clapped overhead. You dragged Astarion into the building with you just before the rain could get worse. The clerk at the desk looked a bit annoyed to see you.

"We don't have enough rooms for all of you," they said, counting the seven of you.

Karlach pulled a face. Before she could say something accidentally indelicate, you pushed to the front of the group.

"How many rooms do you have available?"

"Just three," they said after a quick glance down at the open guestbook in front of them. "And they're not all next to each other."

You glanced back at the others.

"We could take two," Gale suggested. "Split us the old-fashioned way of ladies in one and us gents in another?"

Automatically, your gaze slid to Astarion; both of you appeared to have deflated at the idea of being separated. Wyll, of course, noticed.

"We'll take three and give the third to the lovebirds," he said, teasingly nudging his elbow into Astarion's side. "I don't think I have the heart to separate them."

"I find it agreeable," Lae'zel said with a decisive nod. She turned back to the clerk. "We'll take all three."

"It'll cost you," the clerk warned.

Astarion pulled out a money purse—no doubt stolen the last time you visited a merchant. "We can pay," he promised with that charismatic grin of his that made your stomach do flips.

He moved to the desk, sneakily grabbing your ass and squeezing as he walked by, and counted out the coins for the clerk. They counted it again and stood up only when they were satisfied.

"Come with me," they said. "I'll show you to your rooms."

~❊~

After saying goodnight to the others, escaping their teasing about keeping it down in the night for the sake of your poor neighbors, Astarion held open the door to your room to you. You got inside and glanced around; as far as rooms went, it wasn't awful. It was sparsely furnished and a tad cold, but there was a recently lit hearth and plenty of blankets on the beds. It was on the uppermost floor and you could hear the rain pounding on the roof, a brutal sound that made you agree with Wyll's earlier sentiment about staying out of the weather.

Both of you took off your soaked cloaks and hung them on the hooks next to the door to dry off. You set your stuff down on the ground, pulled the blankets off of one of the beds, and dropped them onto the other.

"Sharing a bed, are we?" Astarion asked with a little giggle, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the back of your neck.

"Don't act like you don't want to," you said and leaned back into his chest. "I know you, Astari."

He hummed happily into your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed the place where your neck and shoulder met. The nickname always made him happy, often bringing a pleasant blush to his cheeks after he'd fed.

If you had reached that point yet, this would have been the perfect time to say "I love you" and turn to kiss him over your shoulder. But you hadn't said it yet, and he hadn't said it, and you knew it wasn't time yet. You didn't know much, but you knew Astarion wasn't ready for that just yet.

You relaxed into his arms even more, practically melting against him. He planted soft, dainty kisses on your neck and shoulder. "What were you gonna tell me earlier? You had this look in your eye, like you were really excited."

Astarion's grin was audible in his tone as he whispered in your ear, "Your period's gone."

You frowned. "How do you know that and I don't?"

"Your scent's changing. I smelled it this morning, a weak scent of your menstrual blood, nearly gone. We've been traveling so you haven't been able to check recently, but once we got to the town I knew it was gone."

You shook your head. "Smell alone and you already know me better than I know myself."

Astarion scoffed. "Smell alone? Darling, I know your body better than anyone after this past week." His hand drifted down and slid between your legs, cupping you gently. Instantly, warmth flooded you and pooled in your cunt. "I know your shape...your taste...your smell..." He kissed your neck, pressing down on your clit through your clothes. You whimpered lightly. "I know exactly how to make you moan for me and I know what every moan means."

With every ounce of self-restraint you possessed, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Let's get settled in first, Astari. I need to get out of these wet clothes and I really should wash the grime and rain off me before we do anything and—" You stopped suddenly and turned in his arms, resting your hands on his biceps. "I don't have my period anymore."

Astarion blinked at you. "Why do you sound so sad? You've been in pain for the past week! Shouldn't you be glad it's gone?"

"Well, I suppose," you said, shrugging. You toyed with his collar, playing with the fabric between your fingers. "But I...I can't..." You sighed. "You can't feed from me."

His face softened. He gently took hold of your neck, brushing his thumb over the place he usually drank from. "Of course I can still feed from you... It just...takes a bigger tole on you now. Ah." He paused. "I see what you mean now."

You nodded. "It's back to being bloodless, and our fun's done."

Astarion chuckled deeply. "Oh, is that what you're sad about? No more loving little kisses between your legs from your vampire?" He wrapped his hands around your hips, squeezing them and pulling you flush to his body. "We can have a different kind of fun, my love, and it doesn't take your period to convince me to eat you out."

You heard him dimly, but didn't process anything after— "My vampire?"

Something in his face changed. A little bit of the light in his eyes seemed to fade. After a moment, he turned his face away. His body tensed in your arms. "Well, I...I thought that.... M-maybe after..."

You cupped his cheeks and turned him back to you. You kissed him softly, wanting to chase away every ounce of the self-doubt on his face. "I like the sound of that, Astarion." You brought a hand down to clasp his. "As long as I get to be yours, too."

"Darling," he murmured against your lips, seconds before kissing you again. His tongue pressed against your lips and you opened them to let him in. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he moaned softly into your mouth. His relief at your answer slowly relaxed his muscles and made his kiss incredibly tender. You returned his quiet moan with a soft, content sigh into his mouth.

When the kiss broke a few moments later, though it felt like an eternity, you immediately laid your head against Astarion's chest, hugging him tightly. He smoothed his hand over your hair, holding you close to him. He kissed the top of your head in a way that seemed almost domestic for him.

You closed your eyes, settling against his chest. The smell of him and the feel of his body against yours and his hand in your hair was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. And yet...

"I'm in wet clothes, and I'm very tired of being wet—unless it's you making me wet," you said, only half-aware of what you had said until you felt Astarion giggle into your hair.

"You're right, we should change and clean up," he said quietly, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to let go. "Then we can have our fun...and you can get all of me, like I promised you a week ago."

You hummed. "Gods, I'm looking forward to that."

"See? It's not all bad that you're not bleeding anymore," he teased, kissing your cheek.

You finally separated. Astarion dug through his pack until he found his usual shirt and pants. He closed the window's curtains and then you stripped where you stood, peeling the wet clothes off your skin. You walked over to the washroom, aware of Astarion's appreciative gaze on you, and scrubbed the dirt off your skin. You dried yourself off and Astarion joined you. It felt strange to watch your own reflection in the mirror but not see him standing next to you, even though you knew he was next to you, staring at you as he was apt to do.

You kissed his cheek and let your hand rest on his hip as you walked back toward the beds. You bent to rummage through your pack, only for his arms to circle your waist and pull you back up against his chest.

"Oh, darling, you're not going to need clothes for what I have planned," he murmured in your ear. He gently teased the shell of your ear with his teeth. You shuddered in his arms.

"Just jumping straight into it, huh?" you teased.

"I never waste time when I could be spending it with you," he breathed, letting one hand come up to cup your breast. You stumbled backward, sighing contentedly. "You like that, don't you?"

You whimpered. "More... Please darling, I..."

He chuckled and cupped both breasts in his hands. He squeezed them lightly and rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at your cleavage. "Hells, I love these tits, darling. So soft, like all your skin. So sensitive to my touch..."

Astarion began thumbing at your nipples. They perked up at his touch. He rolled them between his fingers, kissing your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. You whimpered under his touch.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" he asked, squeezing your tits a little harder. He massaged them in his hands, contentedly watching from his perch on your shoulder.

You nodded, leaning your head against his. After a moment, you asked, breathless but still forming words, "Can you suck on them?"

He moved around to the front of you, grinning happily. "Of course I can, darling." He gently sat you down on the bed's edge and kneeled before you, a beautiful sight. He spread your legs to sit between them and get as close to you as possible, glancing down at your exposed cunt as he did. "Gods, I can't wait to be inside you," he muttered, just seconds before he took one of your nipples in his mouth.

Astarion's mouth was an absolutely wonderful thing. You'd figured that out the first night and for the subsequent week that he was skilled with his lips and tongue, far more skilled than his kisses let on. His mouth around your breast was heavenly as he sucked on your nipple, lightly at first and then slowly adding pressure. You'd be lucky if your tits weren't bruised come morning. His other hand held your breast, kneading your flesh, rolling your nipple in his fingers. The coolness of the skin of his fingers was a relief against your hot skin.

He moaned as he suckled on you. He flicked his tongue over your nipple and then kissed the fat of your breast. You brought your hand up to his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, and he moaned loudly. You whimpered as his sucking grew to be almost too much. He understood your sound and switched breasts, licking and kissing the one he'd just been groping.

You stared down at the beautiful man happily sucking on your tits: his eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering every so often, his pretty lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking your breast into the heat of his mouth. You carded your fingers through his hair, delighting in the way it curled around your fingers and around his ears.

A sudden idea had you moving your hand down to his ear. You touched it gently and he moaned loudly. You giggled and began lightly caressing his ear. His moans turned into whimpers as you neared the pointed tip. At last he popped off your breast and his head fell against your stomach.

"Oh, gods, darling," he whined. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, that feels... Ohhh, that feels wonderful."

His little moan brought a rush of wetness to your core. You kept playing with his hair, hoping to draw another one of those weak whimpers out of him.

Astarion shuddered into your touch. He was panting heavily and moved shakily, but he still managed to get his hand between your legs. He slid two fingers inside of you with ease.

"Ohhh, sweet girl, you're so wet for me," he breathed. "Can I—?"

"Yes, please," you gasped, knowing instantly what he wanted to do. Your fingers left his ear and he ducked his head between your legs. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. "More."

Astarion chuckled into your pussy. "Patience, dear." He began to suckle on your clit, the pressure alone enough to make you see stars. Then his tongue flicked over you in the way he'd learned you licked and you fell back against the bed, arching into his mouth. His hands came up to grip your hips and pull you closer to him.

He moved lower and pushed his tongue into your entrance. The two of you moaned in tandem and Astarion's fingers dug into your hip, hard enough to leave bruises come morning.

The sounds of Astarion's slurping became obscene, but you couldn't find it in you to be embarrassed. You only moaned louder as his nose bumped your clit.

Without warning, Astarion slipped his fingers back inside you. You arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers curled inside you.

"Astarion!" you groaned, grinding down on his face and fingers. He chuckled into you.

"That's it, my love, you're close," he murmured, staring into you and watching your walls clench around his fingers. "Just let go for me, you're almost there."

You moaned, writhing as he went back to sucking on your clit. His fingers found the right spot and you covered your mouth with a hand to muffle the near-scream that came out of you—a sound you had no idea you could even make.

"No, no, no," Astarion chided, fixing you with a look. "Don't you muffle those sounds. I want to hear you scream for me, darling."

You whimpered. You panted as your orgasm slowly crept up on you. Your hips stuttered and lifted off the bed—Astarion took advantage and slipped his arm underneath you, dragging you back to him and pressing his mouth back to your clit. He kissed it gingerly, occasionally flicking his tongue over it in the circles you liked so much. Sometimes it amazed you how well he remembered your body and your likes, even if you'd only told him once.

"Astari," you whined, the tight ball in your core very close to snapping.

"I've got you," he whispered. "Come on, sweet girl, it's alright. Cum for me. Cum on my face, darling. I want it. I want to taste you. That's it, that's it, that's it!"

You finished with a loud cry, your back arching, Astarion moaning into your cunt and his tongue lapping quickly to catch every drop of your release. He kept curling his fingers even as your walls tightened to the point of being difficult to move them.

Astarion leaned back, grinning up at you. His face shone; it was almost weird not to see blood on his face. He looked back down at your pussy, staring eagerly, licking your cum off of his lips. "You're so wet, darling. Gods, you'll be a tight fit, but I could slide in right now if I wanted to..."

You nodded very quickly, whimpering. "Please, Astarion, please, I want you to."

He raised an elegant brow at you. "Oh, do you, now?" You nodded, whining. "Say it, darling."

Your body twisted in a way that seemed impossible as you said, a tremendous blush on your face which you were trying to hide in the bed, "I want you to fuck me, Astarion."

He grinned toothily, his fangs shining. A deep sound that neared a growl emanated from his chest. "Again. Say it again, louder."

"Fuck me, Astari," you whined, a little louder than the first time.

Something in Astarion snapped. He pulled you back onto your feet and flush to his body, kissing you fiercely. It was almost harsh, his fangs nicking your lips. You hissed and Astarion pulled back. The desire—a mix of bloodlust and arousal—was clear in his eyes, but he paused to ask, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," you promised. "It's not like you haven't nicked me in more sensitive places."

"And you like it, every time," he teased, briefly kissing your forehead. He wiped away a small dot of blood on your lips with his thumb and licked it off.

You smiled at him. "What can I say, you've given me quite the biting kink."

Astarion chuckled. "Cheeky little pup," he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. "Ready to continue?"

You nodded, unable to stop the happy grin that overtook your face at the idea of him finally taking you. A thrill ran down your spine as Astarion laid you back on the bed and crawled up to you, kissing you harshly. You were dimly aware of him pumping his cock between you.

He pulled away suddenly, glancing down his body. "Shit."

You frowned, trying to catch his eye again. "Darling? What's wrong?"

Astarion sighed. "In my...excitement, I may have forgotten a very important detail." He looked down at himself and you sat up and followed his gaze. His cock was half-hard, but not nearly enough to slide into you. You whispered a quiet "oh." In his embarrassment, Astarion refused to meet your gaze. He looked much smaller, like he'd curled up into himself. "Unimpressive, huh?"

The half-disguised anger and humiliation in his voice made your heart ache. You cupped his face, turning his face toward you. You kissed him softly. "Oh, Astarion... No, you're not. You are impressive, you're just not quite ready yet. You forget I've seen you before, fully hard after you feed."

"I think you're missing the point," he said weakly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, effectively hiding himself. "I can't fuck you like this, darling."

"You can once you've had some blood, but that's beside the point." You kissed his cheek, rubbing a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch. "You're more than just sex, Astarion. Damn good sex, sure, but that's not all you are, no matter what anybody else—and especially your master—told you."

He turned to you, a strange look in his eyes. You took his hand, raised it to your mouth, and kissed the back of his hand. He leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder.

"This is the second time you've had to say this, something like this, to me during sex," he said with a humorless giggle, a shadow of his usual one.

"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it," you promised, kissing the top of his head.

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he just blinked until the teary glaze in his eyes went away. "Thank you," he whispered, and he adjusted to kiss the spot on your neck he always drank from. He lightly scraped his teeth against your skin. "Do you want to do this?"

You hummed, leaning into his affection. "Yes, sweetheart. I want this. I want you. I want you very, very badly."

He smiled. "Lay on your side, darling. Let me lay behind you."

You did as he asked, relaxing into his hold and letting him manhandle you into the position he wanted. He pulled you flush against his body, his length pressing into you, his arm around your waist and holding you against him as if he was afraid you'd try to escape the moment he bit you. With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your neck.

"Are you ready, darling?" he whispered, dragging his teeth across the shell of your ear.

You nodded. "Mhm."

"Just relax for me," he breathed. He nuzzled into your neck and kissed the spot he was going to bite. "Right here? Your favorite spot?"

"Right there," you whispered. You put your hand over his and both of you (you weren't sure who moved first) twined your fingers together. He squeezed your hand gently before he sank his teeth into your neck.

Quiet filled the room, except for the rain on the roof, your steady breathing (only steady for now), and Astarion's sucking.

It had been just over a week since he'd fed from you this way, and the sensation was just as alien as it had been that first night you'd let him drink—two tiny shards of ice, the cold numbness spreading slowly through the surrounding area, preventing you from feeling any pain in his bite. Slowly, you acclimated to the sensation and it faded into a dull, throbbing pleasure.

He slid his free hand under your head, holding your head up and your neck steady. He gently scratched your scalp.

"Astarion," you moaned, squeezing his hand. He grunted, continuing his sucking. You focused less on the sound of it—which reminded you vaguely of sucking juice out of a dripping fruit—and more of the feeling of his body against you. "Enjoy this, sweetheart. Please, just for me."

He cuddled closer to you, humming, and you smiled as he let go of your hand to briefly squeeze your hip. Your smile widened when he took your hand in his again as quickly as he possibly could.

It didn't take long for Astarion to start getting into it. He began whimpering softly, so unrestrained you were certain he had no idea he was doing it. Slowly, his hips began rolling against you, gentle motions at first that grew more noticeable and more desperate the longer he drank.

His teeth still in your neck, Astarion began grinding his hardened length into the swell of your ass. His whimpers became moans and then animalistic grunts. He drank in time with every thrust against you and slowly you were reduced to those two sensations.

Throbbing overtook you. Your head was pounding, just slight enough for it to be ignored, and need pulsed in your cunt. You could feel your juices coating your thighs and the dull throbbing in your clit. But the rest of your body was growing pleasantly numb. Your extremities began to tingle.

Astarion's gulps slowed down and his thrusting became feral. You moaned once, very loudly, as his cock slid briefly between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. Your moan spurred him on and he adjusted to keep grinding himself on your thigh.

A few more swallows of blood was all it took for the edges of your vision to get blurry. Your eyes fluttered shut; you didn't have the strength to open them again. You could no longer feel your fingers and you were only partially aware of your hand slipping out of his. But Astarion was incredibly aware of it; he stopped drinking and twisted around you to lay in front of you to check on you.

Your head dropped to the mattress without Astarion's hand holding you up. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook you and you groaned quietly.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," he said, cupping your cheek. You opened your eyes. "There's my girl. How are you doing? Feel okay? Did I take too much?"

"Slow down on the questions," you said, "and hold me."

He chuckled and scooted closer, pulling you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head. "But are you okay?"

You nodded. "Give me a minute and I'll be right as rain."

He giggled. "Right as rain..."

You rolled your eyes. "What can I say, the storm's got me thinking." You tucked yourself into his arms, your lips against his chest. You kissed his skin softly. He hummed happily and you continued, nipping at his skin. Now that he'd fed, bruises started to form under your lips.

"I'm okay now," you said after a few moments. The throbbing in your head had eased up and you no longer felt like you were about to pass out.

"Not dizzy anymore?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I'm alright."

He smiled at you; gods, that smile was gorgeous. "Well, now, dear. Let me return the favor..."

You blinked at him. "Favor—? Oh!"

Astarion's mouth was back on your breasts, this time leaving hickeys all over your skin—and tiny, bloody pinpricks from his fangs—that matched the bruises you'd left on him. You whined, gripping his hair tightly.

He grinned against your skin. "Oh, darling—I know. I know you want me. Your body and I have kept you waiting long enough, haven't we?"

You put your hand on his chest. "Wait, darling. Let me..." You slid down his body and gripped his cock in your hand. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips into your hand.

"Oh, darling, that feels..." He moaned. "Gods."

"It's about to get better, if you'd like?" you asked. You kissed his thigh. "Do you want me to?"

Something in his face changed, his features softening. You fancied that you could see some of his walls come down in his eyes, but you chalked it up to your hopeful imagination. But then he was nodding and whispering, "Yes."

You kissed around his base, watching him shudder every time your lips touched his skin. You locked eyes with him and pressed your lips to his base. He whined, high and needy, throwing his head back. You smiled; you'd never heard him make that sound before, but I wanted to hear it again.

You moved up to kiss his tip. A groan came from the back of his throat. You gave his head a small lick and watched his entire body shudder with pleasure.

"Ready?" you asked him, placing another kiss to his length.

"Yes," he breathed, looking down at you. "Yes."

You licked the underside of his cock, from base to head, then took his head in your mouth and sucked lightly. He whined the entire time, growing steadily louder until he was moaning. You took him deeper and he threw his head back again, swallowing harshly. Gods, he's so pretty when he's losing control... You reached up and took his hand, squeezing gently.

He bucked his hips into your mouth. You made a soft sound of slight complaint, surprised by the motion. "S-sorry," he breathed, his chest heaving. His voice was tight, the muscles of his abdomen tight. "You just... Gods, you're good at this. You are...amazing."

You squeezed his hand until he looked down at you, your question was in your eyes: are you alright?

"Keep going," he urged. "I'm— I'm more than alright, darling."

You sank down further until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned to feel him twitch in your mouth; you weren't expecting the breathy gasp that came from him. You did it again and his hand left yours to thread through your hair, putting the slightest amount of pressure on you.

"Is this okay?" he asked shakily, struggling to get the words out through his heavy breaths.

You winked at him and he groaned, the sound feral. He held onto your hair for dear life and you kept sucking, licking the underside of his cock every chance you could. Occasionally, he bucked his hips desperately, alternating between gasping for breath and whimpering your name between moans that verged on sobs.

Astarion jerked his hips, his cock kicking up. You took advantage to swirl your tongue around his tip, tasing his pre-cum. He leaned up on his forearms and you saw the tears on his waterline. Concerned flooded through you. His face was relaxed into an expression of pure ecstasy, but...

You pulled off of him. "Astarion? Are you okay, sweetheart?"

His chest heaved, glistening with sweat, while he gasped for breath. "I— I'm okay. You're wonderful, darling, absolutely..." He beckoned you up to him with two fingers, that dominant look back in his eye. You did as he ordered without question. "Come here. As much as I love this, I need to fuck you."

You whined. "Astari, please. Please. Please, I want you."

"Look at you, begging for me," he cooed, his hand sliding between your legs. He rubbed your clit and you arched into his touch, moaning wantonly. "There she is. That's it, darling, just feel good for me."

You leaned into his chest. "Astarion! I need you. I need you to fuck me, please, gods."

Astarion chuckled and pulled his hand away from you. He gently laid you on your back and crawled over you. He kissed you deeply before sitting back and lining himself up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. Anticipation and excitement mixed in your stomach.

Astarion placed the head of his cock against you and then looked up at you. His face was fond as he met your gaze. "Are you ready for me, darling?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I— Oh, gods, yes!"

"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered. He kissed your forehead briefly.

You watched him move, slowly bucking his hips forward to push his cock inside of you. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. You forced yourself to remember to breathe as he bottomed out, your walls stretching to accommodate him; he finally let out a deep groan from the back of his throat.

"Darling," he moaned, leaning down to you. You reached up, putting your hand in his hair, and brought his head down to you. Once again, you weren't sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours.

It was a gentle kiss that was fitting for his slow, shallow thrusts. The two of you panted into each other. He put his forehead against yours, glancing down and watching him slide in and out of you, whispering in Elvish at the sight.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Astarion... Oh, gods..."

"You feel so good," he groaned. "Darling, I— Ohhh, sweet girl." He bent down to lick the small blood spots off your breasts. He moaned sweetly. "You taste even better when I'm inside you, my love. You taste sweet—like a delectable wine."

You whimpered. "I don't mean to deprive you of my blood, dear, but please please kiss me."

He chuckled and kissed his way up your neck, stopping briefly to lick your already-closing puncture wounds, before he kissed your lips. His mouth tasted vaguely of iron.

Your walls tightened around him. He was rubbing inside of you in just the right ways, hitting pleasure spots that his fingers had already made tender. His thrusts were still gentle, not enough to make you see stars but enough to make your entire body relax and give in to the pleasure.

"You're wonderful, darling," he murmured. He reached up to roll your nipple in his fingers. "You feel so perfect around me. So tight...so wet...so eager... Gods, darling, yes, just clench around me like that."

You threw your head back and he immediately descended on it, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin. You could feel the bruises that you would find in the morning.

"Faster," you told him. "I can take more than this, Astari."

He grinned and you were moaning seconds later as he sped up, his hips snapping into you.

"Can you take it harder? Deeper?" he asked. "You have no idea how hard it is not to ravish you, darling."

You cupped his chin and brought him back up to your face. You kissed him hard, more tongues and teeth than anything. You met his gaze and whispered, "Then ravish me."

Astarion pushed his lips back to yours, grunting animalistically, and slammed his cock into you. You cried out, clinging to him desperately as he fucked you relentlessly, his hips snapping against yours, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. The head of his cock kissed your cervix every time, making your entire body shudder. You began meeting his thrusts and he chuckled, one hand gripping your hip to help keep you up.

You threw your legs around his hips and both of you groaned at the new angle. Astarion muttered to himself in Elvish, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You kissed him, bringing him back to you. He smiled, kissing your forehead.

"Aren't you gorgeous?" he whispered to you, staring deep into your eyes. There was an alertness there that you hadn't noticed the first time he'd fucked you like this, out in the woods that night.

You reached up to cup his cheek. "You're quite handsome like this, Astarion," you murmured. "You always are."

He smiled softly at you and turned to kiss your palm, his hips stuttering for a moment. He grunted and pushed deeper into you, making you cry out again. He glanced down your bodies and watched the two of you thrust into each other.

"Gods, that's a pretty view," he murmured, his voice breathy. "Your slick shining on my dick...and, oh, look at that... The outline of my cock in your tummy. Gods, that's hot." He placed his hand on your lower abdomen where the bulge was and he pressed down. You whined, clenching your teeth and trying not to scream. He, of course, noticed. "Oh, that feels good, does it?"

You whimpered out a weak, "Yes!" He grinned and began pressing down on every stroke into you.

You gripped his shoulder, your nails digging in; you knew there would be scratches on his back and shoulders come morning and you were careful to avoid his scar, knowing just how painful that would be if scratched.

He kept losing his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close; thankfully, so were you.

"I'm close," you whispered. "I'm so close, darling."

On the next thrust in, he adjusted the hand pushing down on your abdomen so that his thumb could circle around your clit. "Does this help?"

You whined, nodding frantically. "Oh, Astari— Don't stop, please don't stop, I—" Your words faded into moans. He giggled.

"Don't worry, darling, I don't intend on stopping until you've finished around my cock," he whispered in your ear. Your entire body shuddered.

Astarion's thrusts grew a bit sloppier, but his thumb on your clit remained dedicated to making you cum. You were half-convinced the way he spoke as he gazed down at you adoringly would be enough even without the cock thrusting into you or the thumb stimulating you.

"Gods, look at you," he murmured. "Look at that body, responding to me so eagerly! Those beautiful breasts, perky nipples, all covered in my bite marks... That lovely neck, marked and still just barely bleeding..." He bent to lick the thin trail of blood. "These legs, wrapped around my waist, and that pussy just sucking me in." He brushed your hair out of your eyes. "And I could never forget this darling face, those beautiful eyes just staring up at me like I hung the moon and stars..." He pressed his forehead to yours. Softly, he said, "Come on, darling, cum for me. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you clench around me and lose yourself in me."

The thread inside you snapped. You arched off the bed and into his body. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him, whispering words of encouragement. You screamed as you came, clenching so hard around him it was a miracle he kept fucking you through it. He pulled his hand off your clit as soon as the feeling became too much, reading your body with ease.

"That's it," he whispered to you. "That's my girl. Easy, darling, breathe. You did so well. Do you mind if I—" He groaned, hips faltering for a moment. "Do you mind if I cum inside you?"

You whined. "Oh, gods, yes, please do! Cum inside me, Astarion, cum inside me, I want it!"

He moaned happily, kissing your neck fervently. He began rambling. "Hells, darling, you spoil me. Feeding me with your bleeding cunt for a week? Taking my cum the moment it's over? You needy, heavenly little thing." He kissed his way up to your jaw. You put your fingers in his hair. "Oh, you're so wet now, sweet girl. You've soaked me. You look so pretty around me. Oh, gods, you're so much tighter now— I'm not going to last much longer, dear. You're good, you're too good. My love, oh my love!" He lost his rhythm entirely, fucking you only with the need to cum. "I love this. I love every bit of this. I love—"

He cut himself off. He cried out, burying his face in your neck and his cock in your cunt. Warmth flooded you as he spilled himself deep inside you. His hips stuttered and flexed a few more times, his cock twitching inside you, before he finally let out a long breath and collapsed on top of you. Immediately, your arms wrapped around him and you held him tight to your chest.

As the two of you lay panting together, your mind was working on overdrive. He hadn't said it, but you'd heard what he wanted to say: I love you. The very same words you were dying to say.

At last, Astarion lifted his head. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You combed your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered. "Not one bit, darling. I'm perfectly fine." You kissed his nose and he giggled. You stared at him, your beautiful boy, for a moment, enjoying the feelign of his body actually being warm against yours for once, before you asked, "What about you? Are you feeling alright? Good, even?"

Astarion giggled. "Don't sell yourself short, my love, you're absolutely wonderful. I feel amazing. Content. Cared for. Loved." With every word, his voice got smaller, quieter. He seemed to retract into himself. You frowned.

"Where'd you go? Come back to me," you whispered.

He looked back up at you and the tears were back in his eyes, but this time you doubted they were tears of pleasure. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." He sighed. "I didn't mean to disappear on you. It's just...I'm used to that. I'm used to disappearing during sex, after sex... But I didn't do that this time. It was...different with you. It was nice. You've cared for me like no one else ever has. You...you paid attention to what I wanted, how I felt, what I liked. You weren't just using me for your own pleasure. I... It was like...you cared about me. I don't even know what to say! But, ah, you made me feel good, in a lot of ways. So... Thank you, darling."

You cupped his face and kissed him softly. "Of course I care about you, Astarion, I— I...love you."

He tensed up in your arms. A flash of panic passed through his eyes. You shook your head quickly.

"You don't have to say it back," you said hurriedly. "Not until you're ready. But I want you to know exactly how I feel about you. And...I love you."

He smiled and relaxed, melting into your embrace. "Thank you, my love. I...I'm not ready, not quite yet, but...thank you for respecting that. Here—let me cuddle you, I know how much you like that."

The two of you adjusted so that you could lay on your sides. You curled up in his arms and nestled your head into his neck. He carded his fingers through your hair, a gentle movement that was well on its way to lulling you to sleep. You reluctantly pulled yourself away, and only because you had adjusted and suddenly felt the cooling, sticky liquid between your thighs.

"We should get cleaned up," you murmured.

Astarion hummed. "Oh, yes, let me—" He reached for his shirt on the floor and brought it up to himself.

"No, no," you said. "Let me do it."

You took a towel and dampened it in the bowl of lukewarm water on the nightstand—probably there for this exact purpose. You squeezed the excess water out and gently wiped your mixed, drying releases from Astarion's thighs, abdomen, and cock. He sighed softly, relaxing as you cleaned him off.

"No one's ever done this for you before, have they?" you asked. He shook his head. You kissed him softly. "Get used to it, darling, because I intend to do this for you every time."

He grinned, a pleasant blush on his cheeks. "I could get used to this." He took the towel away from you. "Here, let me do it for you."

You laid back and let him slid between your legs. He groaned softly. "Oh, my sweet girl, you look so delicious with my cum dripping out of you."

You blushed fiercely, groaning. "Stop talking like that, or I'm going to demand we go again."

He perked up. "I'm up for a second round—if you can handle it, that is," he added with a cheeky grin.

You considered it for a moment while he wiped your thighs and entrance clean. "Give me an hour and maybe we can."

Astarion smiled and placed a dainty kiss just above your clit. "That's my girl." He laid back down beside you and pulled you into his arms. "Get some rest now, darling, you need it after today."

You wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek against his chest. "Thank you, Astarion. For everything."

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. "You're welcome, my love."

~❊~

You were ready to leave the next morning, and you and Astarion met the others in front of the clerk's desk on the first floor of the inn. Astarion handed back the key while you limped over to the group.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion had left you with quite the limp, even more severe than the first time he'd eaten you out at camp. Karlach didn't even try to contain her laughter at the sight of you.

"So you did fuck her last night!" she said to Astarion as he joined you. You blushed heavily. "We had no idea, couldn't hear a thing!"

Astarion raised an eyebrow, then looked at you with a grin. "They couldn't hear us, even with all the noise you made? We're getting a room at an inn every chance we can get from now on!"

"Not so fast," Gale said quickly, "they might not have heard you, but Wyll and I did!"

You squeaked. "You did?"

Wyll nodded, somewhat amused and somewhat apologetic. "You made noises I didn't think were possible. Or meant pleasure."

You turned immediately to Astarion, who was grinning like a cat, and buried your face in his chest. "Hide me."

"It's alright, darling," he whispered to you. "Gale and Wyll were across the hall from us. Next time, we'll just get a room as far away from the others as possible and I'll make you scream into the wee hours of the morning."

You blushed very brightly and the others groaned.

"Don't break her," Shadowheart chided. "Is your wound—"

"It's fine!" both you and Astarion said before she could continue.

"She's all healed up, no more scarring," Astarion promised. "Believe me, I wouldn't have gone as hard as I did if I thought she would get hurt by it."

"Okay, that's enough!" Gale said quickly. "Let's leave, please, and keep going. We've got important business to attend to!"

As you left the inn, Astarion took your hand and kissed the top of your head. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you? That limp's quite noticeable, dear."

"I'm fine," you promised. "You were quite good last night."

"Good. I'd be inconsolable if I had hurt you," he said. He brush your hair behind you ear. "I mean that, you know."

You leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. "I know, darling. And thank you. Now, come on, help me walk. It will be your fault if I fall."

He snorted. "Because I have you a good orgasm? No, wait, how many did it end up being last night? Two the first time...then another three?"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, stop bragging! Come on, Gale's right: we've got work to do."

Astarion kissed you one last time, then pulled you against his side and followed the others out of the village.

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou @thegoodwitchs-blog @catching-fire-in-the-wind

1K notes · View notes

rainylana · 1 month

Text

“Goodnight, Ed’s.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: you’re stoned and drunk, so you suck eddie’s dick.

warnings: oral male receiving, language, smoking of weed, drinking.

You loved late nights like this. Drunk, stoned and watching tv. Pizza boxes and Chinese food piled up on the counters. It was almost four in the morning, the living room was glowing with the illumination of the tv playing Poltergeist, a smoky steam and the smell of weed and booze strong and prominent.

You and Eddie were sat side by side, watching, giggling together, stoned out of your mind. You hadn’t said anything in hours, just enjoying the company of each other. You’d been through so much together. High school bullies, the trauma of both of your childhood’s. You had shared that with him, and he, you. Vecna. What you both had become after Vecna.

You shifted your neck and looked over to him, smiling softly. His eyes were dropping. He was getting tired. You lifted your arm and played with the back of his hair, twirling the curls and watching him relax under your touch. He closed his eyes and hummed, too tired to thank you.

You rubbed at his neck, scratched his skin lightly and circled the area behind his ears, giving him all the attention and affection you could give. You stifled your own yawn, leaning over and swooping his hair over to expose his neck.

You gave him a sweet, soft kiss behind his earlobe, scooting close so your legs touched his. You kissed and caressed his neck slowly and softly, moving up to his chin and back down. He groaned happily when you nibbled on his skin.

“Baby,” He barely opened his eyes, peeking over at you. “You know I’d love to, but I’m…so tired.” He fought off a yawn.

You pulled away, turning him toward you with a single finger under his chin. “Then let me do the work, darlin.” You pecked his lips with a wet sound, not so gracefully falling to the floor in a heap at his knees. You weren’t near as drunk as he was, but the effects of the marijuana had you dizzy and giddy, and more importantly, ready to suck his dick.

You struggled to take his belt and jeans off, and he was too out of it to be of any help. His hands fumbled with yours, and you slapped him away so you could do it yourself, eyes squinting in the poorly lit room. Once you got his belt undone, you pulled his pants down to his ankles, and his boxers were the next to go.

Once finished with removing his clothing, you sat up on your knees and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his thigh, then switching to the other. You could feel him watching you. You licked his skin with your tongue, the sound of someone screaming behind you on the tv. The light of the screen made him look angelic, eyes slouched and red rimmed, shoulders hunched over, cock hard and ready for you to suck dry.

You looked up at him. His arms were folded behind his head, leaning back with a small smirk on his face. “Well?” He asked.

You blushed at the deepness of his voice. It made your pussy throb. “Just waitin’ for you to ask me nicely, Ed’s.”

He pushed air out between his lips, rolling his head back till it hit the sofa. The couch had seen better days. It was covered in stains of all kinds. “Please, honey?”

You hummed happily, tossing your hair back and twirling your hands against him. “Sure, honey.”

You wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, sucking and puckering so hard he nearly jumped clean off the couch. “Ah,” He whined, gripping the cushions beneath him. “Oh, baby,”

You took his length in your mouth, moving down his shaft until he hit the back of your throat. You wrapped your hand around the base, moving up and down slowly, puckering him with your lips.

Your other hand kept you held upright with his thigh, your head going up and down in a steady rhythm. He held your hair, wrapping your locks with his fist to guide you where he wanted. He sniffled, tilting his head to look down at you.

“So good to me, baby, god,” He whimpered, his thighs tensing underneath you. “That feels so good.”

You swirled your tongue against the prominent vain along his shaft, hollowing your cheeks so you could get every inch of him inside of you.

“Fuck, baby, keep doing that.” He squinted his eyes closed, his hand dropping from your head to fist the sofa cushions. “Yeah, y-yeah, that,”

He panted, looking up to the ceiling as he felt his balls tighten. “I’m gonna cum, baby,”

You did what you knew best and paid special attention to his tip, the space beneath and massaged him with your tongue. He cried out, spilling himself down your throat with a salty taste.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He cursed in cries, biting his hand with his pearly teeth. You sucked him dry, taking in everything he had to offer.

You smiled, wiping the corners of your mouth. His eyes were closed, chest heaving with pants and his arms cast lazily at his sides.

“Goodnight, Ed’s.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

842 notes · View notes

sweetiecutie · 8 months

Note

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

1K notes · View notes

buckyarchives · 1 year

Text

second, first meeting | chishiya shuntarou

spoiler warning for ending of aib season 2

after the meteor, chishiya notices the all too familiar person. their a pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (gn reader)

words - 1.1k

a/n: WOW AIB 2 FINALLY OUT AND THE ENDING WAS REALLY GOOD I THINK. anyways arisu and usagis ending was so cute and i needed literally the “have we met?” scenario with ALL of them. and i’m a weak so i made this, very shoot, not beta’d, just a small and sweet drabble. enjoy reading!!!

—

Chishiya is alive.

He sure as hell didn't feel like it, but he was. The meteorite took a lot out of him, physically and mentally. Waking up in the beeping hospital room with a sudden new look on life, and he was going to do something about it. No more being a messenger for bad news, slowly tearing down people's hope one referral after another.

Dozens of people just experienced the same pain and trauma as he walked around him, some looking better than others. A girl with an amputated leg, a man in a coma as he passed by his room, and a girl and boy walking hand in hand with injuries littered over them. Humanity– always finding love in terrible suitaions.

Chishiya stood in one of the hospital common rooms, people-watching as he always does. God– it feels like a lifetime had passed since the meteorite. Chishiya was familiar with the whirring and beeping sounds of hospitals, people chatting and crying, and the strong smell of disinfectants and bleach. He was a doctor, all these things filled his life to the brim, it was familiar.

Even you.

You, who stood across the room; tucked into a corner (like chishiya), people-watching, snacking on crackers, and keeping yourself comfortably hidden. Yes, you’d caught his eyes. But something felt off deep inside his stomach, something was off about you. Almost like you were too familiar, chishiya could see a lifetime in your eyes and this is the only time he's ever seen you. Maybe, it wasn't?

Chishiya knew better than to laser focus on one person in the room, because your head perked up. Right into his direction, but chishiya’s gaze didn't falter– he couldn't even if he wanted to. The pull towards you was too intense, it made him dizzy. shock, confusion, remembrance? Flashed across your face, similar to him.

A small, sweet smile grew on your face. Fuck, what medication did they put him on? That meteorite really did a deal on him because suddenly he can’t breathe. For a moment he thought maybe his stitched came undone, half expecting to see blood soaking his scrubs when he looked down. But no– it was just you. Chishiya’s has never seen a smile so familiar, yet foreign.

Your eyes narrowed in his direction, like you were trying to read him. Something many people found difficult in the past, Chishiya didn’t put up a fight or a stone-cold face. Chishiya narrowed his eyes back, like a challenge.

So wrapped up in you that he didn't see the teenage boy wheeling a little too close to his toes in a wheelchair. “Ow!” chishiya yelped.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the boy began to spew out a plethora of apologies, frantically bowing his head to the elder.

“It's okay!” chishiya reassure, the sting in his toe had already been subdued– an easy injury compared to the bandaged and stitched-up ones he gained a few days ago. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

The boys' apologies slowed and he wheeled off, practically still bowing. Chishiya chuckled under his breath at the gesture. Looking back up to find you again, weird– what's got into him? Your spot ghosted empty and chishiya’s eyes frantically searched for you, only to find your back now turned to him and trudging down the hallways. Right as his eyes landed on you, your neck turned and you glanced back at chishiya.

A challenge indeed.

Chishiya curiously cocked his head, looking something like a cat. And then one foot in front of another, chishiya was following you down the hallway. He wasn't sure why, maybe he didn’t need a reason. I mean, he almost died, chishiya felt like he didn’t need a solid reason to do anything anymore besides what he wanted. And he wanted to follow the beautiful, mysterious, and weirdly familiar person around in a hospital. Like cat and mouse.

And that's how chishiya ended up in a quieter, more intimate area. Middle of a hallway, near a set of tables and a vending machine. Usually, where loved one would sit weary-eyed and waiting for good news. You came to a halt, chishiya stopped. You turned around slowly, that sweet smile that made chishiya’s stomach feel weird (apart from the wounds.)

“You're following me.”

Something that would so usually sound like a question, was a statement. Because it was meant to be, because you knew he was from the beginning. You intended on it. Chishiya already likes you. And hell– your voice almost gave him whiplash, so silk and sweet. Echoing distantly in his head, like he's heard it a million times before.

“And you wanted me too,” chishiya replied coyly. His voice felt so scratching and his throat burned as he spoke, being without water and unconscious for too long. Shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly. Even half dead he must keep up his cool-guy image.

You didn’t reply, only a wider grin growing on your face. And chishiya found it hard to bite back one of his own. How so uncharacteristic of him – he felt so warm.

“Maybe.” you finally said.

Chishiya hummed, beginning to close the distance – one foot in front of another – between the two of you.

You watched him intently, chishiya knew it. Normally he’d perceive this as someone sizing him up, but your eyes told a different story as they trailed up his body. Something that'd make his ears hot and red.

“Meteor?” you asked, gesturing to his wounds. Chishiya nodded. “Me too.”

It was awkward for a moment, but not uncomfortable. The silence was deafening as if it wasn't meant for the two of you. Like there were so many words only on the tip of his tongue, words unsaid, words he didn’t even know – but they were begging to be spoken.

You were the first to break the silence, stepping closer. Now only 2 or 3 feet in front of him. “Have I, sorry, this is weird– but, have we met before? Like even passed each other on the streets.”

“Not to my knowledge.”

You hummed, looking around to avoid the intense eye contact that tugged you closer, and closer and–

“Would you like to know me?” chishiya said, his eyes not leaving yours. A weird sense of home lay in your eyes, chishiya was ready to jump fully in.

You tried to cover the eagerness in you, waiting a moment. Dramatically tapping a finger to your chin as you thought. “I think that’d be nice.”

Chishiyas lip quirked up, following yours.

He may not know you the way he feels, but he will.

#alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #i want to smother chishiya #chishiya x male reader #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #chishiya headcanons #aib #alice in boderland x reader

5K notes · View notes

homeslices · 4 months

Text

Euphoria (Azriel x pregnant!reader part one)

Summary: You and Azriel find out you’re pregnant.

A/N: Thought his idea was cute and I’m thinking about making this an entire series of dad!Azriel. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t good, it’s my first time writing anything for acotar, but I do really like it so I plan on writing more in the future.

Pairings: Azriel x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: suggests smut, slight angst about not being able to conceive a baby (fluff to make up)

Word Count: 1.0k

Azriel and you had been trying to have a babe for a while. While the only people in the Inner Circle who had a child was Rhys and Feyre, you have been mated for hundreds of years and were beyond ready.

Having children was something you had to have many lengthy discussions about first. Azriel’s trauma with his family as a child and your own trauma being an Illyrian women whose wings got clipped before being cast out of your home only too be found and taken in by Rhys’s his mother, were all things you both had to think about before even considering bringing a babe in this world. That’s not even mentioning the war you and all of your loved ones fought in and somehow survived. However, seeing Feyre and Rhy being amazing parents to their son, and just seeing Nyx in general, has confirmed what you both have wanted for a while.

But, as much as you both wanted a child, it just did not happen. It’s been years since you started trying, and as much as you love to be with Azriel intimately, it started to feel more like a task rather than something fun. There have been a few nights that Azriel has woken up because you forgot to close the bond and was flooded with your feelings of self-loathing. All he could do was cup your tearstained face and whisper reassuring and loving words to you. You blamed yourself and as much as Azriel denied it, those thoughts just didn’t go away.

After the third night of that happening, both you and Azriel decided to just stop trying. Of course you both would continue to not take the tonic, but your goal while being intimate was no longer having a baby, it was to enjoy each other. After a time, sex was pleasurable again, your mindset improved, and while you did have moments of self doubt, Azriel was always there for you as you were for him. Similarly, your family was amazing the entire time. While Azriel and you were fairly private about the situation, you didn’t hide what was going on with them. Their support helped you heal, both of you. It’s been a few years since then, Nyx was now six and it is true that time heals all wounds.

Azriel was the one who noticed it first. The sun was starting to rise, light beginning to stream through the window of Azriel and your shared bedroom. It was one of those rare occasions that neither of you had to go anywhere that morning, however, Azriel was so used to being up before the sun that he was already awake. Your face was peaceful as you slept, your bare figure tangled in the sheets, and the only noise heard was your soft breathing. His hazel eyes watched your calm face, all the while having his shadows watch both of your surroundings. Weirdly enough, his shadows also kept brushing over you, almost like they were scared to let you out of their grip. It reminded him of when you first mated, at least one of his shadows had to be with you at all times once both of you got out of the frenzy.

There was something different, something unusual that Azriel could sense that made him feel uneasy, but not on edge. It bothered him, however, as your eyes fluttered open and you shifted your body to face your mate, it hit him. Well, your scent hit him. Before, the room smelled of the previous night’s activities, but with your change in position, he could now make out that your scent has changed. It was subtle, but the slight sweetness in the air was all that was needed to figure out what was so strange.

Azriel’s face was the first thing you saw as you woke up. Despite being able to mask how he’s feeling extremely well, his slightly widened eyes, along with the millions of thoughts running rampant behind them, were all telltale signs that he was in shock.

You hum curiously before speaking.

“What is it?” you question while reaching up to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. You could feel the coolness of his shadows brushing all over your body, it was comforting yet slightly unusual to wake up to.

“You're pregnant.”

Sitting up suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been spilt on you, you look at him bewildered.

“I’m sorry, what?”

A grin filled with pure joy took over his face as he answered you once again.

“You’re pregnant.”

All you could feel was disbelief and elation. You could now tell that your scent was different and all you could do was look at your husband, your mate, incredulously. His deep laugh fills the room, only further showing his happiness. You beam at him as he lifts you in his arms and settles you on his lap. His bare skin felt warm against yours, and the chill that continued to brush over you from the shadows felt perfect against you. The only time you’ve felt this overjoyed was when you found out you were mated to Azriel. You brush your lips against his as he cups your face, brushing away the tears you didn’t know were falling.

You knew things were going to change from that point on. You knew how male got when their mate was pregnant, how protective they became. You saw first hand when Feyre was pregnant with Nyx, she could never move more than a few feet away before Rhys was next to her once again, and if a stranger came up to her, everyone could feel the power he unleashed to get them away. Rhys had mentioned it was similar to how males are after first being mated, but also said that that is nothing compared to how protective he felt of his mate carrying his child.

You knew that this was only the beginning of troubles you would face. But at this point in time, wrapped in one another’s embrace, tenderly kissing tears of joy off each other's face while the morning light poured in, all you could feel was euphoria.

644 notes · View notes

httpsghostie · 10 months

Text

Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that.

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games.

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost #ghost call of duty

2K notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 5 months

Text

I Belong With You and Only You(Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader)

warnings: fluff, mentions of shaving, domesticity, smut, fellatio(male receiving oral sex) word count: 1.3k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you always love watching Nanami during his morning routine, but this morning you don't want him to leave for work a/n: This is for @beneathstarryskies as without you, I wouldn't have posted this at all. Thanks for being so kind to me.

Mornings are very routine in your household. You sleep a few extra minutes as Kento gets up early. He takes his time getting ready, making sure everything is perfect. You always listen to the roar of the shower as you lay in bed. You already miss him, rolling over to rest on his side. You press your face in his pillow, inhaling his beautiful scent. He smells like expensive cologne that you’ve complimented him on before. Musky and leathery with a hint of sandalwood.

You get up from the bed, slipping your feet into the house slippers that are well-worn and loved. Then you pad your way into the bathroom, hoping to catch Kento before he’s gotten dressed for the day.

Leaning against the doorway, you admire your husband. He’s got shaving cream on his face as he prepares himself for a shave. He’s always shaved every single day, which always makes you wonder what he could look like if he were to let his facial hair grow out. The thought of Kento with a beard excites you in ways you never even thought possible.

He turns to look at you, a smirk buried beneath all that shaving cream. He loves it when you watch him do his morning routine. It’s one of his favorite things about the mornings. To him, it’s so intimate to share a moment like this. It allows him to bring down those walls he puts up for everyone else and be so vulnerable for you.

You approach him slowly, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. Your lips feel so warm and soft on his skin as you press kisses all along his back. Kento has never felt more loved in his life than whenever he’s with you. Your softness pulls this warmth from deep inside him and it makes him forget all his trauma.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He says, picking up his razor. “Are you going to make breakfast?”

You giggle softly, “Hmm…no.”

He raises an eyebrow, “No? But…you always make me breakfast whenever you wake up with me.”

You continue pressing soft kisses all over his back and shoulders. You have to be on your tiptoes to reach the highest spots. He shudders under your soft touch and sweet affections. Then he turns around and he’s got some shaving cream in his hand. You squeal when he begins rubbing it on your face, and you’re both laughing.

Tears stream down your face from laughing so hard. Kento has to clutch his stomach as he continues to laugh. You’re both trying to catch your breath after a little bit, and you lean against him as he wraps one of his arms around you. You look in the mirror and point.

“We match,” you say. Kento smiles.

“Yeah, we do.”

His heart feels so warm and so tender right now. Nothing could ever beat these kinds of moments together. It’s what keeps you together and what keeps you falling together over and over again. Then Kento leans against the counter and you watch carefully as he shaves his face. The way he does it seems so effortless, but you know this is something he’s done over and over again for so many years.

“You look so good, you know that?” you ask him as you grab his ass. He’s rinsing off his face right now, so it surprises him when you touch him like that.

Kento grunts, “What is this, honey? You looking for attention?”

You try to look innocent, but he knows better. He doesn’t have the time right now to give you the attention you crave, which makes him sad. He wishes he could just spend every single second of every single day with you. He’d never go back to work if he could just spend this time with you. But he knows it’s not realistic.

“Can’t you just stay home with me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.

Kento sighs, “Love, you know I can’t…”

His heart wrenches when he sees you pouting. It’s not a look he likes to see on your face. He’d much rather see you smiling or laughing like you were earlier. And then your frown turns into a mischievous smirk. You drop to your knees and begin tugging on the knot that’s keeping his towel firmly wrapped around him.

“Don’t be a brat. You know I don’t have time for this,” Kento grunts, his voice raspy.

You smirk up at him, “But…you’re so hard.”

You’re right. He’s hard and leaking already. It took barely anything for him to become erect. Just the sight of you on your knees in front of him and taking off his towel was enough to get his mind whirring to life. The sleepiness was long gone and now he was more than happy to see where this goes.

“Shit…” Kento sighs, “Love, you know I don’t have time for this.” He repeats.

But you decide to ignore him. You press soft kisses to the head of his dribbling cock. You moan as you taste his musky flavor, wanting nothing more than to completely drink him up. The moment you wrap your plump lips around his leaking tip, he knows he’s not going to be able to pull away.

Kento lets out a moan as his fingers come down to tangle in your beautiful hair. His hips buck up for more stimulation, pressing his cock further down your throat. You sputter for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. You begin bobbing your head up and down, following a rhythm that drives him crazy.

“That’s what this is all about, huh?” Nanami says with a smirk on his face. “My little cockhungry girl couldn’t stay away from me. Going to make me miss a day of work just so you can be my little slut, hm?”

The words go straight to your cunt. You feel arousal building so deep inside of you. You look up at Kento and he gently caresses your cheek. He enjoys watching you worship his cock like this. Drool begins to dribble down your chin as you pick up your pace.

“Good girl, keep sucking my cock.”

You take him even further down your throat, swallowing around him and moaning as the taste of his precum coats your tongue. You needed this just as badly as he did. Kento is ready to spend the whole day with you, and he can just count it as one of his sick days. In his mind, it’s the best way to spend one of his sick days.

His fingers are still tangled in your hair, guiding you up and down on his cock. Your mouth is all messy with precum and spit. You look so fucking hot like this, it makes him feel like a horny teenager all over again. When he would spend late nights in his bed, cock in his hand with the thoughts of someone sucking his cock. In reality, the real thing is so much better than the fantasy.

“That’s my good girl,”

You continue to deepthroat him, making sure to take him all the way down. One of your hands comes up to begin massaging his heavy balls. He’s clearly been thinking about this, otherwise he wouldn’t have become so aroused this quickly without warning. He wanted you to come in here this morning and try to seduce him.

Nanami has to grip the counter to steady himself as he feels the telltale signs of his orgasm fast approaching. Your mouth is so tight and wet and warm. A few more thrusts of his hips and he’s pulled over the edge. He growls loudly as his cock begins to throb; a steady stream of his cum begins to shoot down your throat.

You moan as you taste him, the vibrations causing him to tremble as the orgasm washes over him. You feel him pushing you down so far that your nose presses against the light blond hair that sits at the base of his cock. He grunts soft, sweet words of praise as he rides out his high.

Once he’s done, he pulls you back up to your feet and he kisses you roughly. He can taste himself on your tongue and it has him half-hard almost instantly.

“Get on the bed. Now.”

#bacon.writes #Kento Nanami x you #Kento Nanami x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami smut #Kento Nanami x y/n #kento namami smut #Kento Nanami fluff #kento fluff #kento x you #kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami x reader #jjk nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

450 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 4 months

Text

Body hurting | Harry Styles

Harry Styles x Y/N

Summary: Where the hate that Y/N has been receiving on social media gets her on a path that she couldn't come back alone from.

Warning: Eating disorder, dysmorphia, self-hatred, comparison. PLEASE read with caution!!

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N was home alone for the second week in a row, and to say that things were easy would be a big lie. Her days were always the same: Spending hours doing different physical exercises and other hours reading the most horrible comments from Harry's fans.

She could never say they were bad people, after all they loved and cared about Harry, but there was something within the fandom against her, and she wondered if it was because she wasn't famous or because she wasn't thin.

Her heart told her that she shouldn't worry about it, there were sweet people who defended her and always presented proof of how much happier Harry seemed to be when with her, but her mind screamed that it was option two.

Hours of sleep were lost with Y/N in front of the mirror, without any clothes and with her hair tied up, her dark eyes with big bags underneath wandering over every part of her body while her brain made records of absolutely all the negative parts.

To say that she wasn't in agony every time she saw an old article about Harry's exes or comments comparing them all to her was an understatement, she could only feel disgusted with herself and her body, while all her past traumas came back with full strength.

With Harry away it made it easier for her to do her fasting and her long hours of physical exercise, in addition to going days without ingesting anything more than one or two leaves of pure lettuce, and lots of water. The feeling of the cold water running through her body and reaching her empty stomach was pleasurable, and all she could think about was how thin she only felt when her stomach was empty.

And without even realizing it, her best friend became her scale, and her greatest partner became her seamstress' measuring tape. Y/N had even printed out some images of the body models she dreamed of having every day, and pasted each one of them in different corners of the house, especially in the kitchen, with strong messages full of triggers that made her think twice before opening the refrigerator or cupboard.

It wasn't surprising that she had an exaggerated reaction when she was told that Harry would have a week without shows, and that in that week he would return home and, consequently, to her. Y/N wasn't prepared to see him again, or rather, she wasn't thin enough to do so. Her weak legs ran around the house, tearing off all the photos and messages stuck to doors and walls, storing them in a far away place, where he wouldn't find.

She tried to take a long shower and brush her teeth repeatedly to get rid of the smell that she got from the lack of food. And then she felt a little ready for what was to come.

It wasn't long before the sound of the key in the main door was heard and the doorknob turned, the tall, dark figure appearing in the doorway with a suitcase in one hand and a big smile on his face, his emerald green eyes searching for her.

Y/N smiled one of her best smiles and ran to meet him, careful not to throw her full weight against him. She couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as his large hands encircled her waist, the worry that he would feel the fat on her back regions running through her mind. But what she didn't notice was the confused look on Harry's face as his fingers felt how much smaller she was, and he wondered if she had started some kind of diet.

"I missed you so much, H." Y/N murmured against his shoulder.

"Not as much as I did, lovie. Every day, I just thought about having you with me, encouraging me and loving me, and then rewarding me." Y/N felt her body tense at the mention of the intimacy they both shared, the thought of him seeing her body, even though he had already seen it so many times that he had memorized every detail, made her fear.

"Why don't we take this suitcase to the bedroom and then see what we do?" She interrupted the moment, walking away with a fake smile and taking the suitcase from the taller man's hands, starting to climb the stairs, leaving a confused and worried Harry behind.

××××

Two days had passed, days full of lies on Y/N's part and worry on Harry's part. Y/N skipped breakfast, using the fact that Harry woke up after her as an excuse, saying that she had already eaten breakfast; At lunch she couldn't just lie or make some excuse, so she simply took a spoonful of the food that the brunette cooked with so much love, and spread it across the plate, trying to give the impression of having a full plate; At dinner she simply said that she wasn't hungry and that she lost the habit of eating dinner after Harry went on tour.

The days went on like this, Harry felt confused about the situation, but it didn't seem like he didn't believe it, so a debate raged between whether to bring up the subject or not.

Until one day. Harry woke up with the morning sun shining through the open curtain, which Y/N opened every day, his body was warm from the duvet and Y/N's scent surrounded it, like Saturn's rings.

The man got up and did his routine, going to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and changing, ready to go down to meet his loved one, who was always waiting for him with a big smile, sitting at the kitchen counter with her cell phone in hand and a cup of coffee, which was just for him.

But today was different, as Harry went down the stairs a muffled sound became clearer, until his brain registered that the sound was of crying, with a frown the man quickened his pace and chased the sound, concern settling in his eyes.

It didn't take long for him to find Y/N in the fetal position on the main sofa in the room, the cell phone in her right hand while her left hand covered her mouth, trying futilely to stifle the sobs that broke from her throat.

Harry ran closer, kneeling on the floor in front of her seat on the sofa and placing his hands on the girl's knees, stroking them lightly.

"Y/N what happened? Who made you cry like this?" His green eyes migrated from her half-covered face and her cell phone.

"H-Harry-" Her voice broke as the taller man's name came out as a whimper.

"I'm here, baby!" He got closer, wrapping his hands around the smaller girl's shoulders, placing his forehead on the top of Y/N's head, breathing in her scent.

"Harry, I don't think I can do this anymore..." Y/N whispered.

"Do what, my love?"

"Us, Harry." The man moved quickly, astonished by his girl's response.

"Did I do something? It was one of those fake news that I'm cheating on you, wasn't it? Baby, I never-"

"No Harry, no. I know you would never do that! And you didn't do anything, I just..." She sighed and looked into his eyes, feeling guilty when she saw the pain in his emerald orbs. "Look at me, Harry, look at this." She pointed to his body, letting a loud sob out.

"What should I be seeing? Besides a beautiful woman."

Y/N laughed in disbelief, shaking her head and feeling a hint of anger start to rise, it was clear he would say something like that just to please her.

"Harry, I'm looking horrible. I don't have visible ribs or a protruding collarbone, I don't have a thigh gap or hip bones, I don't have thin wrists and I don't have well-marked cheekbones, I don't have pointy shoulders and I don't have a defined jaw... I don't have delicate hands or thin fingers, my waist isn't extremely thin and my breasts are too big. Harry, I'm not perfect and I can't give you what you need."

At this point Y/N was crying a desperate cry, with strong sobs that made her body shake and thick tears that ran down her face. Harry had tears welling up in his eyes as his hands balled into fists in anger at whoever had put these thoughts in his beloved's head.

"Y/N, who made you think like that? How can you deduce what I want?"

"Harry..." She closed her eyes tightly, her mind betraying her by bringing up images of Camille, the girl seemed to be kind, but Y/N couldn't help but feel jealous of her perfect body. "I'm not like them, I'm not like her!"

"Who? Baby, please-"

"I'm not like Camille or like Kendall or like Taylor, and I can't give you the pretty, thin image you need, the media hates me and I've lost count of how many times they've told you that you're blind from being with me, and I can't disagree with that."

Harry shook his head in denial, feeling angry at the media and everything they post and say with the intention of always offending someone.

Y/N continued to sob, and the force her body exerted with the act left her weak, the lack of food began to appear again and her eyes saw stars while her head swam. Harry grabbed her arms quickly, steadying her.

"Baby if you keep crying like that you're going to hurt yourself. Take a deep breath for me, hm? I'll get you a glass of water."

The brunette ran to the kitchen, starting to look for the decorated glass that he knew was the girl's favorite. While opening drawers and cabinets, his green eyes found a piece of paper glued to the front of the bottom shelf, where some industrialized sweets were kept. Harry took the paper and pulled it out, seeing a photo of a body exactly as described by Y/N and a note next to it, his eyes widened at the horrible mentions written there and he tried to get up quickly and return to the room, holding the paper firmly in your hands.

"Y/N what is this?" The brown-haired girl looked up quickly, her greatest fear happening right before her eyes. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. "Tell me something, when was the last time you ate anything?" She shook her head, ready to say it was the day before, but Harry interrupted her. "I mean a whole meal with a healthy amount."

Y/N remained silent, her eyes now fixed on the floor covered by the shag carpet, the older man took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He walked over to the smallest one and put the photo in his pants pocket, promising himself to look for others like it deep in the house.

"Y/N this is a serious situation, you can't keep something like this to yourself!" He couldn't help but feel frustration, he felt guilty for feeling like that because he knew that it wasn't Y/N's fault, but with the way that all of that came down, it just made his head confused and upset.

"Harry I'm fine, that was just-"

"Baby I bet you haven't eaten in days, do you think this is healthy, that this will get you somewhere other than a hospital bed? Letting this situation compromise you like this because of other people... That's not good for you. You don't need to have the same body as them, you don't need to have bones showing or a flat stomach to be magnificent. Those pants you're wearing were tight until a few weeks ago, and look at them now, they're baggy..."

Y/N kept her gaze down, her eyes were filling with uncontrollable tears that threatened to flow at any second again, her cheeks were heating up and the force she was exerting to contain the tears was starting to generate an unbearable headache. She knew Harry was right.

"I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me everything is okay. Just look into my eyes."

The girl slowly raised her head, her eyes focusing on Harry's beautiful green ones, which now held so much anguish and worry, a tear escaping from the corner of his right eye made her lower lip tremble. She opened her mouth to state that she was fine and that everything was going to get better, but her voice seemed to trail off for a second.

Her body hurt, her legs were wobbly and her arms were shaking slightly, she felt her head feel heavy. It was a horrible feeling, beyond normal.

"I-I... Harry, I think I need help."

She whispered, her tears flowing freely now with the weight of her words. Harry nodded vigorously, relieved that she understood that this situation was not normal, and promising himself that he would be by her side through the entire process, no matter how long it took.

And that night, after his girlfriend fell asleep, Harry cried.

406 notes · View notes

hispg · 5 months

Text

My love mine All mine

Pairings: DI! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: Your husband returned from his mission, the house was quiet until he heard your daughter's commotion.

Wc: 2.4k

Warnings: comfort, domestic things, established relationship, mention of pregnancy, mild angst, Leon mentioning some of his traumas, bit of fluffy.

Leon was tired, months away traveling back and forth, doing missions that seemed endless. That last mission was hell, coming back from Alcatraz was like a light at the end of the tunnel.

And he couldn't stop dreaming about this damn vacation that he needed so badly, he didn't have the same stamina to keep going back and forth.

He was completely exhausted, he didn't even know how he'd got home. The fatigue in his body simply alerted him that all he needed was a hot bath and a soft bed.

But nothing mattered more to him than getting home, seeing his beloved family. You, his wife, together with your little daughter. His little family, one of the only reasons he woke up every day.

And once he opened the door to your shared house, and smelled that sweet scent he missed so much, something in him woke up.

Of course all the tiredness was still there, but he was at peace, he was finally home.

With his family. With his two girls.

He silently entered the house, placing his heavy bag on the floor, making a small noise. The silence was comforting, but at the same time he was missing something.

Then he took off his boots and put them in the corner. He didn't realize how much he missed home until he saw the picture frames scattered around the living room.

The photos of when the two of you met on a trip to Paris, he was there on business, and didn't expect to meet the love of his life right there.

Or even the photo of when he proposed to you, your bright smile as you looked at the ring on your fingers, or the way Leon looked at you with such tenderness.

In the next photo it was you dressed all in white, him dressed in a suit that was strangely out of his usual, he felt like a clown every time he wore a suit, even though he looked beautiful in it. In the photo, your hands were occupied with a bouquet, while he held you in his arms like a princess.

There was the photo of when you were pregnant, the first picture of your daughter, so many picture frames all over the living room. Leon loved every one of them and would remember them for the rest of his life.

Just as he couldn't help but notice the Polaroids you put up on the wall, with recent photos of your little family, even though Leon wasn't a very smiley man, he always smiled in the photos he took with you and your daughter.

Because he was always happy in the presence of his own small family.

He felt his heart fill with joy as soon as he saw a baby playpen in the living room, the hello kitty teddies resting inside the pink playpen, along with dolls and small toy cars.

The environment made him feel so real, so normal. Being at home made him forget who he really was, made him forget his messy life. Because this was the place where he belonged, the place he would never leave, never forget. His precious little place, where he was happier than he could have dreamed.

His family, his wife, his daughter. Phrases he spoke with pride, without having to think twice.

The silence in the house was almost soothing, nothing but his breathing in there. But soon the calm was interrupted by a familiar whimper, coming from your daughter's room.

He hurried a little, looking through the crack in the door to see you rocking the little one gently back and forth.

You had told him that the little one had recently caught a cold because of the low temperatures. You had even said that she had high irritability and the usual flu symptoms, as well as a slightly higher body temperature, but nothing more.

But he couldn't have imagined finding you crying with her, the dark circles in your eyes showing him that you hadn't slept much recently.

You looked so much like him, both of you tired, the expression of someone who hadn't had a minute's rest in the last few days.

You were so focused on putting the little girl to sleep that you didn't even notice that Leon had arrived, you didn't even hear when he opened the door to enter the house.

Your senses only returned when the little girl stopped crying for a brief moment, a faint smile forming on her lips as she looked up at her father, stretching out her arms for him to pick her up.

"Shh, Daddy's here..." He whispers, rocking the little one gently, looking at you as he does so.

"I'm sorry." The first thing you manage to sob out, he didn't know who was crying more, the little one or you.

He nodded, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead, "No, love, it's okay."

"I don't know what to do... She doesn't stop crying. She can't sleep for more than five minutes..." You say, gently stroking the little girl's hair, trying to calm her down somehow.

Leon sighed, giving your daughter a kiss on the forehead, looking at her with gentle eyes, as if her constant crying was tugging at his heartstrings.

There wasn't much he could do. Just try to make the little one comfortable in this difficult phase.

He knew you were upset at not being able to welcome him in a better way, with a nice dinner as usual. But he would never judge you for taking care of your family, he knew how difficult the last few days had been for you.

His eyes fell on the coffee cup on the bookshelf, the children's books spread out on the floor. You should have read all the stories to her by now, hoping that the girl would go to sleep or calm down.

Which apparently didn't work.

"Go and rest, love. I'll take care of her." Leon tells you with a half-smile, singing a soft lullaby.

You frown, looking at him calmly. You were both tired, but for now he wanted to take responsibility for your daughter.

The baby girl was still whimpering on Leon's chest, her little hands clutching Leon's shirt, holding on so tightly that it felt like she would pull it off him.

As he hummed a little lullaby, the child put her arms around Leon's neck, hiding her red, swollen face from crying in his arms.

Seeing you also crying from exhaustion at not being able to do anything, he kissed your forehead, giving you a small smile.

"Rest, sweetpea." He didn't care how tired he was, he'd spent days in worse situations. A few more hours awake wouldn't make any difference.

You reluctantly went to your shared room, mentally promising yourself that you would only sleep for a few hours. You were just as tired as he was.

As soon as Leon heard the door close, he looked at the little girl with a smile, kissing her forehead gently.

"Shhh... I know it hurts, but Daddy's here." He said, and she looked at him with a pout for a moment, stopping crying briefly.

Leon's heart calmed down for a while, seeing that she had stopped crying a little. Only for her to start whimpering once more, burying her face in his chest.

"Shhh shhh..." He soothed, carrying her into the bathroom of her room.

Perhaps a fresh shower along with clean clothes would calm her down a bit, or at least bring her a little comfort.

He turned on the hot water to fill the tub a little, while he sat the baby on the edge of the tub and began to gently remove her clothes. It hurt his heart to hear her sobs, seeing how hoarse her little voice was getting with how much she had already cried.

You had told him that because of the flu, the little one had acquired a small irritation in her throat, causing you to go to the doctors and start treatment with some medication. And he knew that the fact that she was crying so much didn't help the irritation one bit.

But as if by some quirk of fate, when Leon put her in the water, she relaxed a little. She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest.

Her golden strands were so reminiscent of Leon's that every time he looked at his little girl, he saw himself.

A being full of innocence and purity, an angel in his eyes. It's a pity that unlike her, he wasn't lucky enough to have a good life, or a less turbulent one.

His innocence was taken away early on, giving way to a terrible bitterness that he only cultivated over the years.

But it would be different with her, he swore he would protect her with his life. She was his daughter, the treasure of his life, along with you.

Sometimes he finds himself wondering what things would have been like if he hadn't met you? If he hadn't taken a turn. If you hadn't shown him that he was still worthy of being loved.

That he wasn't bad. You showed him the light, and it was still hard to believe that the honor of having a family with you was his.

All this happiness was his, all his.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the tiny girl yawn, which for him was a sign that his plan had worked. He gently wrapped her in a towel and carried her in his arms, taking her to the changing table and putting on a new diaper.

Soon he spotted a pair of pink onesies, which looked comfortable enough for her to sleep in, so he started to put them on her.

Gently placing his hand on her chest to calm her down, a habit he always did with her, just putting a little pressure so she wouldn't move, and she would always stay quiet. Sometimes with a smile on her face.

When he had finished, he took her to bed and put her under the covers, making her warm and comfortable. He even put her various plush toys around her.

She was already feeling sleepy, her little blue eyes were threatening to close slowly, she wasn't crying anymore, just hiccupping every now and then. Her fever was better too, at least Leon didn't feel her body getting so hot.

Leon picked up a children's storybook, Sleeping Beauty, her favorite. When he lay down next to her, he began to read the story quietly.

"Once upon a time..." He began, until he was interrupted by her protesting in a low voice.

"Use your princess voice, Daddy." She says, a pout forming on her small lips.

Leon had to bite his lip to keep from smiling, trying to take the proposal as seriously as possible.

"Right, right. Let's start again.'" He murmurs, giving her a kiss on the forehead before starting again.

This time he's done it right, starting in a soft voice, trying to imitate a princess voice somehow. And he couldn't have been prouder when he got a small laugh out of her, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

From the yawns she was giving, it wouldn't be long before she fell asleep. And neither would Leon, he didn't know how he was still awake. He already knew that he would soon fall asleep with her.

So he kept reading until she eventually fell asleep, and he did the same, sleeping surrounded by her soft toys, feeling her little legs on his torso as she slept.

Both sleeping peacefully after a restless night.

......

Hours later, you wake up from your peaceful slumber, feeling a little better that you've at least had some rest. And from the silence in the house, you could tell that Leon had managed to put your daughter to sleep.

The sun was already rising, its warm rays beginning to illuminate the house, along with the birdsong that filled your ears. You thought about getting up to make breakfast, after all Leon must have been starving.

So you got up and decided to check on them before going into the kitchen, and you headed for your daughter's room. As soon as you open the door, you see one of the cutest images you could imagine.

Leon was lying in bed, pretending to still be asleep while your daughter was putting make-up on him. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the absurd amount of blush on his cheeks.

She had even put a little princess crown on his head, she was really dolling Leon up.

You could see from the smile he was tugging at the corner of his lips that he was enjoying this immensely. He was the type who would do anything for his little girl.

And you couldn't contain the laugh that escaped your lips when the little girl took a section of his hair and tied it into a pigtail, one on each side of his head.

When he heard your laughter, he opened his eyes, smiled softly and mouthed a silent 'good morning' to you.

You did the same, entering the room and approaching the two of them.

"I bet you'd make a great Sleeping Beauty." You tease, looking at your husband with amusement.

And he looks back at you, a smile forming and his mouth opening to let out a cheesy joke. But your daughter's cute, croaky voice echoes through the room:

" No, 'cause Daddy snores a lot." She says, the little gummy smile that made you crack up, showing her little teeth.

The next thing that was heard in the room was your laughter, along with your daughter's sweet giggles.

Leon snorted, crossing his arm and looking at the two of you. He even tried to make an angry face, but the moment he saw his two girls smiling at nothing, he couldn't help himself and let out a smile too.

He propped himself up on his elbows, pulling the little girl towards him and starting to tickle her.

"That's no way to talk to Daddy, young lady." He says, trying to keep his tone serious, but your daughter's giggle is simply infectious.

"Daddy!" she squeals, bouncing her little legs with laughter.

You were grateful for the family you had formed. Grateful for the kind of lazy mornings that were so enjoyable. Maybe breakfast can wait a bit, can't it?

The calm, happy atmosphere there. It was something that Leon had cherished and acclaimed so many times. A haven where he could forget his own demons.

A place where he could relax and forget about the world outside, a place where he could be himself. The person, not the agent.

And he was grateful for his two girls.

For his life, because nothing would make sense without you.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #re leon #di leon #resident evil leon #death island leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #dad! Leon

958 notes · View notes

ghostboneswrites2 · 3 months

Text

Silent Night || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Request from my old blog: "I was wondering if you could to a little thing of daryl and a female mute reader? If you can, maybe selective mutism, so there can be some trust building themes and things! Just fluff, and two idiots in love"

Summary: You get stuck in a cabin overnight with Daryl. He tries to get to know you. Lots of trust building and cute bonding.

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, sad backstory, TW: child loss, mostly cute

Daryl lit the fire in the old fireplace, rubbing his hands together and holding them out to soak up the heat. It was dark and rather chilly with the roaring storm outside. It had blown in fast, and the torrential downpour was too much to drive in. With slow squeaky windshield wipers and dim headlights that desperately needed replacing, there was no other option. Daryl pulled over to the first cabin he saw and rushed you inside, leaving the two of you to spend the night in an old dusty cabin that smelled like mildew and aged wood.

"Should start warmin' up in a bit." He told you, standing up and looking around. He didn't bother waiting for a response, you wouldn't have anything to say. Nobody had ever heard you talk. I mean, sure, people did when yo were younger, before the turn. You weren't deaf like Connie. You thought it was probably just a trauma response. The day you came home to find your fiancé hunched over your two year old daughter, blood pooling on the ground... You could just never bring yourself to speak after that. When you heard your voice, you heard goofy laughs with your baby, sweet talks in bed with your man, phone calls with family and friends. Nowadays there was never anything worth talking about. Every time you tried to speak you were flooded with sweet memories and clouded by the terrible image of your undead lover eating your baby, your world. It was like this large painful lump in your throat had made a home there and prevented any sound from coming out.

Nobody actually even knew your name. You never told them. They usually just called you Jane, as in Jane Doe. Daryl didn't mind you at all, though. In fact, he was quite fond of you. You were pretty, you could hold your own, and you were also... pretty. So pretty. He couldn't keep his eyes off you some days. He was never sure if you noticed, and you really didn't. That was really only because you tried your best not to look at him. You were helplessly attracted to him, so anything to avoid giving that away, you did.

"Still got them bars in your bag?" He asked you, referring to the protein bars Carol sent you with. You opened your bag and tossed him one, opening another one for yourself.

The two of you ate in silence. He tossed you a water bottle from his own bag, and you drank.

Then, it was just the two of you, left to occupy yourselves. He spent an hour or so sharpening arrows and tweaking bits and pieces on his bow. You mostly just laid on the couch and picked at your nails, or scabs, or stared up at the ceiling, watching the spiders in their webs.

His mind was plagued with questions. Every time he was alone with you he found himself wondering the same things. Where were you from? What was your story? Why didn't you speak? What was your name?

He got frustrated with he lack of answers or anything else to stimulate his mind and distract him. He sighed and pushed himself back and forth in the old dingy rocking chair.

"Need to find you a notepad or somethin' like Connie has." He spoke.

You looked over at him.

"Just sayin', silence is deafening, y'know?"

You just looked back up at the ceiling.

"What about.. Okay." He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. You looked back at him. "What if I asked you... yes or no questions. You can just nod or shake your head." He sounded hopeful and bored. You almost wanted to laugh at his eagerness, like a little kid trying to get his grandpa to tell him stories from the war.

You didn't answer, because, of course not, but you just watched him curiously, not giving any indication of refusal.

"Alright. Do you like fishing?"

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Right. You don't fish." He nodded. "Stupid question. What about.. Okay. Have you ever talked?"

You gave a single nod after a moment of deciding if you want to tell him that or not.

"Do you know why you stopped?"

The question was like a dagger in your chest. You decided you didn't wanna play anymore. You just sighed and turned your attention back to the ceiling.

He didn't press further. He just stood up and started to wander, checking all the cabinets in the kitchen for anything useful. He found one thing, a can of Spam.

"You like Spam?" He asked, walking back into the living room. You glanced over at him and shook your head. You weren't hungry. He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He said as he dug into the canned meat.

"Y'know, I had a friend. Her name was Beth. She died, and uh, I didn't talk much after that. It was hard to. Like my throat got all tight every time I tried." He said. "It took a while, but I got through it."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to relate, hoping you'd open up some. You wished it was that easy, you really did. It was miserable having all these thoughts, needs, desires, and no way to express them.

You knew you could speak, if you really wanted to. The problem was that you had never wanted to work hard enough to get past the lump.

"You, uh, you're really no fun at sleepovers. Y'know that?"

Silence. He waited a while. He wondered if he could make you laugh. He couldn't recall ever seeing you give more than a smile. He remembered the story he told Andrea all those years ago, and how it made her laugh.

"Y'know, this one time when I was a kid. I got lost in the woods. I'm talkin' days, right. So, I gotta use the bathroom at some point. I wiped with leaves, cause I didn't have toilet paper or nothin', and turned out, it was poison ivy. I made it home eventually. Ass itched somethin' serious. I'm talkin' pullin' my underwear 'til the wedgie was so bad it gave me rug burn. Tried everything. Even took a fork outta the kitchen and tried that. Nothin' helped."

You were watching him now, grinning. A fork? Really? You wanted to ask if he threw it away or left it to get washed and used. He admired your smile for some time, before it faded. At least he got that.

"My brother was in juvie back then. Dad wasn't around either. Did I ever tell ya about the time Merle got crabs?"

You shook your head,

"Well, he came home one night from the bar. Passed out. Next day he couldn't stop itchin'. Come to find out, there were little bugs crawlin' around in his pubes."

You frowned in disgust.

"Anyways, tried to tell the dumb son of a bitch to just shave 'em off, but he didn't wanna so I had to ride with him to the free clinic to get some kinda dick shampoo. Turns out he slept with the same girl like three more times. Kept goin' back to her 'til the shampoo ran out. Guess he figured it didn't matter if he could keep washin' 'em out."

You looked mortified.

"Yeah, guess that wasn't funny." He agreed. "He was a nasty son of a bitch."

You raised your eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

"I see you hang around Connie a lot. She ever teach you any sign language?"

You shook your head.

"I got a book back home if ya want it."

You shrugged. Could be nice to communicate again.

"Looks like ya need new shoes." He commented, nodding to your feet propped up on the arm of the couch. The rubber soles were starting to detach from the shoe itself. You nodded. "Wanna stop somewhere and look?"

You thought for a moment, nodding and shrugging at the same time, as if to say, 'Why not?'

He sat back down in the rocking chair and rested his head back. He wasn't tired really. It wasn't even that late. The rain just made it seem darker than it was. He listened to the crackling fire and the windy storm outside, the occasional thunder booming around.

He looked down at you. You seemed just as restless.

"Wish I knew more about ya." He admitted.

Usually he wouldn't be so forward with a pretty girl, but your constant silence made him feel like he was just talking to himself. He didn't have to worry about your reaction, though he often wondered what you thought of him.

You looked at him again, curiously.

You glanced around the room for anything you could use to tell him something about you. It could be like a game of charades.

You noticed a map on the wall and walked over to it, pulling the large frame off the nail and walking over to him. You placed your finger on your home state to show him.

"That's where you're from?"

You nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips.

"I'm from Georgia." He said. You gave an acknowledging nod.

"Ever been to any other states?"

You dragged your finger from your home state to Virginia, showing him you had only been through the states that led you to wind up as one of the Saviors. Of course, you weren't one of Negan's fighters, you were just a maid on the cleanup crew. He had actually seen you a few times during his captivity at The Sanctuary. You almost looked as miserable as him.

"Mm." He nodded with understanding.

You set the map on the coffee table and walked around the room, looking for anything else to use as a clue. Your eye caught on a little pink bow, the kind with an elastic band that would go around a baby's head. You picked it up, eyes watering as you ran your fingers over it. You turned back to him and walked back to where he sat, holding it out to show him.

"Ya like pink?" He asked, not quite understanding. You shook your head, trying to think of a better way to explain. Then you remembered the horizontal scar over your lower abdomen. You had your daughter via C-section.

You lifted your shirt and pulled the waist of your jeans down slightly to expose the scar. You held the bow up again, then pointed at the scar.

"Oh." He said lowly. "You had a daughter?"

You nodded, still teary eyed. You took the bow to your bag, concealing it in one of the zipper pockets. You had run out of the house horrified on that awful day. You had no time to grab a memento for her, so that bow would have to serve as one.

"I'm sorry." He told you. You just nodded in place of a thanks, wiping the tears away. You continued your search around the little cabin for clues. It was kind of fun, albeit painful. It was like a game.

You took a little longer this time on your search, until you found a phone book. You took it and flipped open a page and walked back to him. This time he was standing up.

You held the book open so that he could see it, and pointed to two individual digits.

"That's how old you are?"

You nodded.

"Is your name in there?"

You shrugged and set the book down, reasoning that it'd be too much work to find it in all those pages.

"So, you're (age), you had a daughter, and you're from (state)?"

You nodded and smiled. This was the most you had communicated with anyone in years. It was nice.

"Cool." He nodded with a small half smile. "You hungry?"

You shook your head no.

"Thirsty?"

You waved your hand to say kind of.

"I found some tequila in the kitchen."

You raised your eyebrows. Now that was temptation if you ever saw it. Tequila was a luxury you hadn't come across in, well, you didn't even know how long. You nodded giddily and he huffed a silent chuckle, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of clear, liquid joy. You rushed over and grabbed it from him, twisting off the cap and taking a swig. You made a dramatic face as you shook your head. God, you didn't remember the burn being that bad.

"Easy, tiger." He teased as he took the bottle and had some for himself.

You smiled at him as he handed it back, the two of you taking turns until you felt that alcoholic heat in your ears and cheeks.

"You like tequila?"

You shurgged.

"Just like drinkin'?"

You nodded.

"Good to know. If we don't finish this off we can bring it back for ya."

You nodded and grinned. It was cute how happy you got over a simple drink, but he guessed with so little means of communication, anything was nice to take the edge off. He wondered if you felt lonely, like he often did. His was from a place of feeling misunderstood, though. Maybe it wasn't so different than being mute.

"Is it hard?" He asked, taking a seat in the rocking chair as you sat on the coffee table just a foot away.

You tilted your head inquisitively.

"I mean, not bein' able to talk to nobody." He clarified.

You nodded truthfully, looking down at the floor as you grabbed the bottle from him.

"Do ya remember what your voice sounds like?"

You thought for a moment. Of course you did, that was what made it so hard. Your voice was linked to memories that you couldn't bare.

You nodded.

"Maybe I'll hear it one day."

You smiled sweetly before you took a swig and passed the bottle back, nodding. Maybe he would.

"Something on the bottle caught your eye, a little sticker stuck to the bottom. You reached over and peeled it off as he tipped it back to take a drink. It was a simple yellow smiley face. You smirked and waited for him to put the bottle down before you reached over and stuck it to his nose.

"The hell?" He grumbled, peeling it off and looking down at it. You couldn't help the silent giggle, your shoulders rising and falling as you scrunched your nose. The little sticker just contrasted his dark, serious exterior too well.

He noticed your silent laugh and stuck it back to his nose, smiling a little at your amusement. You reached for the bottle and had some more before you passed it back.

"Y'think that's funny, huh?"

You nodded, still grinning. He swished the drink around in his hand, staring at it thoughtfully. He had learned more about you in a couple of hours than anyone probably had in the years you'd been around. Still, it wasn't enough. He was greedy and he wanted more.

He glanced around the room, the fire growing smaller making it fairly dim. He noticed a little banjo off in the corner near the couch.

"Ya like music?"

You nodded.

"Rick, too. Always playin' the worst CDs he can find. Makes my ears bleed." He complained. "What about like.. drawin' or anything. Got any hobbies?"

You shrugged. Before, you mostly just liked being a mom and watching your favorite shows. Now, you really only worked to survive, so what hobbies were there really?

"What about church? You like that kinda thing?"

You shook your head.

"Yeah me neither. Never believed in it much."

You nodded in agreement.

"My mom did, though. Liked to read the bible. She died. When I was a kid."

You placed a hand on his knee, letting him know you empathized.

"Yeah. Dad was a real ass, too. Merle was all I had and he wasn't around all that much."

You gave a sad, thin smile.

"What about you? You had both parents?"

You nodded.

"Brothers? Sisters?"

You shook your head. You were an only child.

"Consider yourself lucky." He joked. You nodded. "Pets? Did ya have any?"

You nodded.

"Cat?"

You shook your head.

"Dog?"

You held up the number two with your fingers.

"Always wanted a dog."

You smiled. You loved your dogs.

"Ya miss 'em? The dogs."

You nodded.

He yawned.

"Ya tired yet or ya wanna keep goin'?"

You shrugged.

He passed you the bottle and stood up, ruffling your hair a little. You swatted his hand playfully and took a drink.

"Gon' make sure the doors are sealed up tight." He announced, walking off to find the back door and reinforce it.

You stood off the coffee table, the hard surface making your butt sore. You stretched and walked back to the couch. When he came back he asked, "You sleepin' there?"

You nodded. You would offer it to him, but last time you guys had to share a sleep space he hogged the bed and snored as loud as humanly possible, so this time you were doing him no favors. He laid out some blankets he found, making a nice palette on the floor to lay on. You set the bottle on the coffee table, feeling pretty tipsy by now, and relaxed on the couch the way you had before. He laid down on his back, propping his bag under his head for comfort.

It was silent for a while, just the two of you enjoying the sounds of rain and the flames that were slowly dying down.

"Thanks." He spoke up. You peeked down at him from the couch. He was mostly obscured by the coffee table but you could see half of his face. "For tellin' me all that."

You just smiled to yourself as you turned on your side, facing away from him and curling up into the ball you usually slept in. A few minutes went by. Just as his eyes got heavy, he heard it.

"(Y/N)." You said. "That's my name."

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl twd

271 notes · View notes

iconicstoner · 11 months

Text

a light in the darkness

gn!reader x cedric diggory

words: 1126

summary: In an AU where Cedric survives the Triwizard tournament, but has trauma from it, y/n has to help him through a panic attack caused by his claustrophobia.

a/n: mentions what happened to Cedric in the maze in detail, mentions claustrophobia, and implied panic attack

Cedric would never be the same after the Triwizard Tournament.

Not everything had changed. He was still the same loyal and compassionate boy you’d always loved, but he would never be as carefree as he once was. Slowly, his hair had been growing out; nothing major, but just enough to cover his eyes. His sleep pattern was in a downward spiral too. Almost every night, he had grim nightmares about what happened during the tournament, and it caused him to fall asleep in his classes often. He confessed to you the terrifying memories he had from the maze. You could remember in great detail when he told you about the suffocating tunnels of ivy that surrounded him as he tried to move through the maze, making it almost impossible to breathe. The experience was suffocating. He was even more scared by the overgrown roots that wrapped around him and attempted to carry him away from the cup. He clawed at them, screaming in terror for help, but nothing he could do on his own would fight them off. Now, if he got his shoe caught on something as simple as his shoelace, it would make him turn ghostly pale, getting flashbacks to the moment he could’ve lost his life.

Despite what he went through, he kept exceptional grades and still had his friends. For him, maintaining his grades wasn’t a surprise. Not only were his professors very understanding, but studying was one of the few things he could do without ever having to think about what happened that day. He was much more surprised to discover that his friends still loved him, and that he was still as popular as always. He thought his friends would be disappointed in him, but like the incredible friends they were, they adored him just as much, and respected him for the hardship he went through. More than anything, he was glad you still loved him, even if he would never be exactly the same.

However, attention and popularity were no longer what made him feel whole. When people circled him to talk to him, it often scared him. After what happened in the maze, Cedric had intense claustrophobia, and even standing in a crowded room could set him off.

After every dark thing that happened, the only real thing he could find solace in was you, his beloved support system. You knew this, and made it a point to check on him daily, especially if he didn’t talk to you for a day. That’s how you knew when it was a dreadful day for him.

Today was different. Classes were over for the day, and you hadn’t seen him once. You thought maybe it was just a coincidence you didn’t see him in the halls, but when he didn’t show up to your shared History of Magic class, you grew worried. You’d asked around about him for what felt like hours, and eventually one of his friends told you they’d seen Cedric go to his dormitory.

You contemplated what could’ve happened as you entered the Hufflepuff common room. The smell of sweets wafted through the air, and the syrupy scent filled your nose. Usually, you loved to admire the soft yellow furniture and warm lighting, but today you went straight for the boys' dorm. You pushed open the ancient creaky oak door to Cedric’s dorm, and the scene felt all too familiar to you. Before the tournament, Cedric often invited you over, but that was becoming rare as time went on. You knew he still loved you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to reach out to anyone, even just to chat.

You opened the door to find Cedric on the wood floor, sitting next to his bed, with his knees to his chest. You rushed over, quickly closed the door behind you, and sat with him.

For a while, he didn’t say anything, he just softly cried. His cheeks were red, and his breathing was shallow. His favorite gold Hufflepuff sweater had droplets of water across the front from his salty tears. You wanted to engulf him in your arms, but you knew he needed his space.

“I can’t believe what I did,” he finally said, breaking the silence. The tears in his throat were audible and heartbreaking. “A group of people tried talking to me, and I just snapped,” he’s barely able to choke out the words as he begins to sob into your shoulder.

“I know Ced, it’s okay,” you say as you brush your fingers through his soft overgrown honey hair.

“I just snapped,” he says between sobs. “They were all standing so close, and I couldn’t breathe, and all I could think about was that stupid maze.” The words leave his mouth in a quick spiral, and once they’re out he grabs you like if he doesn’t, you’ll vanish. “I shouted at them,” he says, sounding dejected. Even if those students never remembered it, he was too sweet not to blame himself.

“Cedric Diggory,” you say in a strong, but concerned tone, “no one is mad at you. The people here are considerate enough to understand what you went through, and if they can’t understand it, then maybe they deserve to be yelled at.” He doesn’t respond to you, but he holds on to you a little tighter, and presses his face into your neck. His warm, soft lips meet your skin and plant a small kiss on you, and you can feel his wet, tear-stained cheeks brush against you. “Why don’t we get you some food? You’ll feel much better,” you earnestly suggest. He moves away from your neck, keeping a firm grip on your body. Despite his disheveled appearance, he sends you a grin that makes you feel like the sun has just come out after a long winter. He nods his head in agreement and stands up with you. You watch as he fixes his hair, and changes his clothes to go down to the great hall with you. When his shirt is off, you see his sculpted, toned body, and you can’t help but giggle. He blushes, and a soft shade of pink takes over his face. He sends you a wink and quickly puts on another shirt. It seemed like Hufflepuff’s golden boy was making a return.

Once you’re out of the Hufflepuff common room he takes you by the hand and twirls you around, pulling you into him with a soft smile. Your hands connect, as if they were made to hold each other, and he traces his thumb in circles on your hand.

“You are the light of my life,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s like you can hear the smile in his voice.

#cedric x you #cedric diggory #cedric x reader #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #Cedric Diggory x gn reader #gn reader #cedric #harry potter #triwizard cup #triwizard champions #triwizard tournament #hufflepuff #the goblet of fire #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral reader #cedric diggory one shot #cedric Diggory imagine

756 notes · View notes

scudslut · 2 months

Note

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

stay with me

daryl x fem!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/ptsd

a/n: absolutely love me some good fluffy angst, thank u nony❤️ i hope you like it:))

As much as you tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable situations runs would put you in, the blood-chilling reality of it never got any easier. No amount of mental prep could stove off the sounds and smell of the dead, nipping ravenously for a taste of your sweet living flesh.

Of course, over time you’d learned just to shut your brain off and fight. Fight as hard and tirelessly as you possibly could, but mistakes could still be made. Shit happened, whether it was your fault or not.

Hours earlier, a group of you went a few miles east of the prison; Daryl having spotted a little strip a few days prior, not too overrun that he thought might be loot-worthy.

It was a simple run really. Keep close, hit a few shops in and out, then head back home. That’s it. Follow the plan, get as much useful shit as possible, and get the fuck out of there. You guys had it down to a science at this point, runs becoming so second nature it was almost too easy to let your guard down nowadays.

“Hey D, I’m gonna go check the storage room back here. Might have something we could use,” you voiced to your partner a few isles down, still keeping your tone as low as you could.

“Gimme a sec, I'll come help ya,” you heard him say but you kept moving. You two had already cleared the main area, you could handle a walker or two if there actually was any behind the small door. You figured you would’ve heard something by now, some sort of banging or grumbling to announce their presence, but there was nothing, the coast presumably clear.

You should have waited.

Crossing the few miscellaneous isles you reached the back door, giving it a small rattle. Still complete silence, not even the faintest groan or shuffle. Knife at the ready, hand clamped over the cool metal handle, your heart rate picked up a notch as it always did before opening into the unknown.

“You got this, come on,” you muttered to yourself, before throwing the door open, bracing for attack. The door flew wide, only to reveal a dark, empty room. Squinting through the dimness, a few high, dusty shelves were visible, stocked with all sorts of canned goods. Fuck yea, that was certainly useful.

“D! Come look what I found!” you rasped, dropping your knife into its holster and shuffling in. You unslung your backpack from your shoulders, digging through it for a flashlight excitedly. It’s been so long since you’ve found this much canned food, surely enough to keep the group well stocked through most of the winter that was approaching. A loud creak from the left caught your attention as you sped forward. Hands finally finding purchase on the flashlight, you flicked it on, scanning across the room to the sound.

Dust caked the air, making the already dark room fuzzier and your eyes took a minute to adjust. You took a few smaller steps closer, peering wearily ahead and then you saw them.

Beady, soulless eyes staring back. A whole rickety staircase of them, heads turning one by one to the light source in your hand.

“Oh fuck.”

There had to be at least 10 of them that you could see, the top of the stairs pitch black and unrevealing.

Your feet stumbled backward, hands desperately reaching for the knife at your hip, dropping the flashlight in the process. It rolled and caught under your heels, knocking you on your ass as the corpses advanced, jaws snapping.

These were those moments. When you felt your heart in your throat, brain stuttering on action. Time moved so slowly that the fragments were almost visible and every thought screaming in your mind sounded like gibberish. You know you should move, is that what it was screaming?

The first one got to you, grabbing your leg trying to crawl up and finally, you were kicking, scrambling, grabbing onto the knife and slamming it into its skull with a loud squelch.

“Daryl!” you yelled. You needed him. Now.

3 more dropped before you, slinking towards you and you were trapped — the first corpse lying heavily over your midsection.

“Yea, yea girl. I heard ya,” you heard him respond, still sounding a few isles away.

No no no, this was not how you were gonna die. Not today. Please.

You kept stabbing, each kill taking everything out of you as you struggled against the body weight atop you. They just kept piling, you could hardly feel your legs anymore, the circulation surely cut off below your knees. And more were coming, a never-ending stream of hunger.

Another one landed before you and you had just enough time to catch its shoulders before it was inches away, snapping at your neck. Your arms burned, tears welling in your eyes as you realized this could be it. You didn’t know how much longer you had before they gave out and rotting teeth would be sinking into you, tearing you apart.

The walker kept snapping, so close you could see the layers of rotting flesh peeling from its face. You had been close to walkers before, had stared into the lifeless eyes too many times to count, but this was different. More were coming and the face in the reflection of its eyes was barely recognizable — terror painting every feature you’d known on you distorted.

The bones cracked in its left shoulder and it dislocated, dropping down to centimeters from your skin.

“No,” you sobbed quietly. Daryl wasn’t going to make it, you knew that. He was going to walk in and find his girl as dinner. You hoped he just booked it, and didn’t waste his time trying to save what would long be gone.

The walker fell limp in your arms and you flinched harshly, expecting excruciating pain to follow as it bit. But there was nothing.

“The fuck are ya doing! Get up!”

Daryl was suddenly right before you, ripping each body off your aching limbs and you were now acutely aware of the larger pile by the stairs, all with arrows and stab wounds littering their heads. When had he gotten in here?

You didn’t hear his words, adrenaline coursing so loudly through your system that all that could be heard was a loud, shrill ringing.

“Goddammit girl, wake the fuck up!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders in an attempt to lift you. Your brain caught up then, as he harshly placed you on your feet. Walkers scattered the floor around you, and a grumble at the stairs announced it wasn’t the last of them.

Daryl reached down, grabbed your dropped items, and shoved them in your dumbstruck hands. “We’re gettin’ outta here, now,” he seethed, dragging you along and slamming the door behind you both, crossing the lines of isles quickly to the front entrance.

The fresh, afternoon air hit your nose in a gust and the last of the fuzz chipped itself from your senses slowly.

“Hope yer fuckin happy with yerself. Can’t ever listen to a goddamn word’a mine, can ya?” Daryl quipped beside you. His eyes were slits as they dug into you, so fuming you could see the heat radiating off his skin in the early autumn brisk.

He was angry at you, you knew that. But you also knew it was because he was scared. Hell, you were fucking terrified to stone back there, but if you wanted to calm him down at all, you knew you had to act unfazed.

Gathering any remaining wits about you, you took a deep inhale, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting them.”

He didn’t respond, wouldn’t even look at you anymore as he began to pace the graveled parking lot.

“Hey don’t stress Dar. I’m alive, we’re good,” you attempted to soothe further.

“Don’t stress? Yer a real piece a work, y’know that! Always fucking up everyone’s shit cause ya don’t wanna use yer brain, huh?”

Well, that did not go as you expected.

The rest of the group had started shuffling out of the other shops around you, making their way to the vehicles.

“Jeez, you need to lighten up,” you brushed past him, head high. You couldn’t let his words affect you, not with all the other emotions coursing as well. You didn’t understand what he meant. You had never put anyone other than yourself in danger, how could you possibly be fucking over everyone else?

You decided to wait in the car as the rest of the group went back for the cans, tag-teaming whatever walkers remained. The loot had decently filled both trunks and everyone was happy to call it a day and head back.

Your eyes followed Daryl as he jumped into your car, eyes trained on the windshield, “Ya alright at least?” he muttered glancing at you briefly while shifting the car into drive.

“I’m good, you big grump,” you huffed with a tight-lipped smile. “That much food will last us a long time. I believe a thank you is in order, don’t you think?”

You were not good. Not at all, but there was no reason to worry him anymore, putting him through enough today as it was. Your hands were shoved tightly under your thighs, so he couldn’t see the tremors racking through you.

You had smelt death so many times it didn’t bother you much anymore. Today you had smelt your own. Saw your life in that walker's eyes, mere seconds away from demolition. It was safe to say you were shaken to your core.

The journey back was silent, both not in the mood to chat for very different reasons, and the whole time you were trying to keep each breath of yours steady.

You helped unload as much as you could, before slipping away discreetly to your cell. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you felt kind of pathetic honestly. This was life now, it had been this way for a long time now, you shouldn’t be so shaken up as you were but the terror just wouldn’t leave your body.

Panic washed over you once again as your eyes hit your dim cell. Your mind was quickly slipping back into those last moments, the darkness and dust all too similar. The fear you had felt coating your veins icily and your breaths started to become agitated. There was nowhere else to go though. If you left the cell someone would see you.

Subconsciously, you backed yourself into the corner of the room, crumbling down to the floor with your head in your hands. Deep down you hoped your hyperventilating would knock you out. You didn’t want to think anymore — see it anymore. Tears were burning the back of your throat as you held down sobs, feeling the walker's hands and weight atop of you all again.

A small yelp escaped you when the hands became real. Pressure on your shoulders and waist and your head snapped up from its hiding spot, reflexes already prepared to fight whatever presence was with you.

“It’s jus’ me, hey, hey,” you heard through your panic, his blue eyes just recognizable through blurry tears. “S’okay, relax.”

You couldn’t calm down this time, vicious sobs finally breaking their way out of your frame. Running was your first thought; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, Daryl or not. Emotions were never a strong suit of yours and would always find yourself dealing with them in private, away from sympathetic words and pitying eyes. But Daryl was never like that, he drew you in and held you tight, uttering no more words other than the ones to confirm it was him. If you asked him to say more, he would, but he knew this was what you needed. Someone to ground you back onto Earth and out of whatever images tormented your head.

So that’s what he did. Held you for hours as your body expelled all its terror and lingering adrenaline. He’d give quiet coos through each wave of shakes, grabbing a blanket to warm you through the cold sweats. And finally, once the fear faded to exhaustion, he scooped you up off the stiff concrete and into your soft cot.

“Stay with me?” you rasped, throat parched and raw from crying.

It wasn’t a second thought for him. He was never truly angry with you, and he knew you knew that. He needed you safe with him.

“Always.”

388 notes · View notes

waywardrose · 8 days

Text

SIDETRACKED

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated: teen | word-count: 900

for @theold-ultraviolence

mechanic!eddie, gn!reader, slice of domestic life, complete fluff

Eddie's late getting home. You turn the oven off, yet leave the casserole in to keep it warm. He's never late. He always clocks out at six and is home within fifteen minutes. According to the clock above the sink, it's nearly 6:45. Something is wrong. You eye the phone, debating if you should call the garage. Maybe something last-minute happened.

Like an emergency tow. Or a quick flat-tire fix. Or a gaggle of geese had waddled into one of the bays — again.

He'd called you that first time, laughing and insisting you had to see it. When you'd pulled up, geese were honking and flapping and pooping all over the garage floor. A giggling Eddie crouched behind a station wagon while Wayne rubbed at the seat of his coveralls and Jeff waved a dirty rag at a couple of unimpressed geese. You saved the day by turning on the hose and threatening the gaggle with cold water.

Eddie proclaimed you their knight in shining armor and the slayer of winged beasts. You'd kissed him and told him to bring home dinner. He'd been home at 6:30 with a pizza and a six-pack of Miller.

You walk to the front window and check the street. The old lady down the road sweeps her front porch. Across the way, two kids' bikes lie tangled on the stoop.

Fuck this.

You march to the kitchen phone and dial the garage. The line rings and rings and rings. Wayne and Jeff must've already left for the day. With a sigh, you hang up. If they'd left, Eddie had as well.

For a distraction, you pull the casserole out of the oven. One edge is darker than the others because of the extra cooking time. You pick off the dark bits, flinging them into the sink for later clean-up, and cover the dish in foil to steam it.

That took a whopping five minutes. It's now almost 7:00.

Maybe there'd been an accident. Hopefully, not one Eddie had been in. He had enough trauma for one lifetime. Maybe it's road construction, though you hadn't heard about any…

The front door bangs open. You spin, brandishing the serving spoon. Eddie stands in the doorway, boots grubby and top of his overalls knotted around his lean waist. He raises a stained hand, the other hidden behind his back.

"Where the hell have you been?" you demand as you shake the spoon at him.

"Sorry." He winces and lowers his hand. "I know I should've called."

"Damn straight, you should've called."

"I left work a little late. And, uh, well… I got sidetracked."

"Sidetracked."

That isn't anything new with Eddie. He's a menace when it comes to cleaning alone. He'd volunteer to dust and neaten the living room while you went grocery shopping. When everything was in piles, he'd discover something cool, or something he'd forgotten, and focus on that for the rest of the afternoon. You'd come home to a bigger mess more than once.

He holds out his hand for the spoon.

"Trade ya."

You frown.

"What?" you ask, though you offer the spoon.

His calluses rasp over your skin as he takes it. He sweeps his other hand from behind his back to present a bouquet of orange ditch lilies. He'd used one of his hair-ties to keep the long stems together.

A tightness you hadn't been aware of before uncoils in your chest. Your eyes prickle with unexpected tears.

You whisper, "They're beautiful," and rub a silky petal tip between two fingers.

His voice is rough as he says, "I didn't mean to scare you."

You shake your head and give him a smile.

Silly boy. Sweet, silly boy — the one you fell in love with years ago.

He spreads his arms with a self-deprecating grin and shrug. As if to say he knows he's beyond hope, or useless, or incompetent.

You scoff. "Oh, shut up."

You wrap your arms around him. His old Metallica t-shirt smells like sweat and fresh air. He hugs you tight. The lilies' petals caress your neck, making you shiver.

You pull back enough to look into his warm eyes.

"Thank you for the flowers."

He sways you a little.

"Next time, I'll get you roses."

"Oh? Going to ruin some poor lady's garden?"

"For you? Of course."

You thump your palm on his waist with a delighted laugh. He grins roguishly and moves in to kiss you. Your lips meet, and it's still a spark. You've been burning for him since that first date, that first kiss. Your whole body heats at his touch.

The serving spoon clunks on the floor. His hand presses at your lower back. His lips are as soft as petals and hot like embers. He kisses you harder, deeper. His clever tongue slides against yours.

Urgency like a fever has you pulling him farther into the house. He kicks the front door closed, a grin against your lips. You take the bouquet from him and place it by the sink.

Dinner can wait.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #waywardrose writes

116 notes · View notes

mrsnancywheeler · 5 months

Text

the lakes (9) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

5.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, lots of violence/death/blood, like a lot of it, it's the hunger games, mentions of starvation and dehydration, injuries, mental illness, self loathing, casual dominance, savior complex Finnick, codependent relationship, reader has trauma relating to being too cold especially being cold + cold water we'll get into it eventually like next chapter, terms of endearment, nudity in a non sexual way, unedited, no use of y/n, Finnick washes readers hair

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You woke up too early, there was too much time for your thoughts to run on top of the fact that you'd barely slept at all. Mind full of reminders of the last time you'd been in the arena, how cruel fate was. At least you were still with Finnick, the protection of his arms, surrounded by his love, and you snuggled further into his grasp. Desperate to savor every speck of his being, of the moment before it could be taken away from you. You forced your eyes back shut, who knew how much sleep would be available in the arena, being well-rested could be an advantage. It didn't hit you until you sniffled that you were crying, it felt pathetic, how often you cried.

“I know you're awake." His voice didn't startle you, simply made you intertwine your legs with his even further.

“Don't wanna be." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, somehow even if there was no ocean he'd been swimming in for so long, his scent was still that of saltwater. It comforted you, like the smell of your home when the windows opened in the morning.

“I know, sweet girl." He nodded, arms having wrapped themselves tighter around you. An unspoken fear that if either of you let go it would be the last time. Tears peppered his neck and you already felt like it was lulling you back to sleep.

You weren't sure when your exhausted self had fallen asleep like that, but the next thing you remembered was Finnick softly whispering your name, announcing it was time. You kept your eyes shut and shook your head which broke his heart. Part of your brain reminded you that you volunteered for this, you could have been at home sick with anxiety, but instead you chose to be here.

“Come on, sweet girl, we have too." He whispered, voice so comforting it could have made you fall right back into your sleep. He was hypnotic.

“I can't." It was true, you couldn't have willed your body to move even if you’d wanted to. Your muscles felt like they'd shut down, frozen in place. He didn't push back with an ‘I told you so’ he just began lifting you up from the bed. Your head shook as he moved, “Please, Finnick.”

"Angel, we don't have a choice.” His voice was sad, but definitive. He wiped away the residual tests and tiredness in your eyes from where he'd say you on the bed.

Staring into his soothing eyes helped your stiff muscles loosen somewhat, but shame had begun to take over your brain too. “I'm sorry." You muttered, your voice cracked and was still heavy with sleep.

“It's okay, don't worry about it.” He kissed your forehead, "I've got you, sweet girl, I'll take care of you.” The guilt was almost numbing your body all over again, but it all reactivated when Finnick tried to step away. Instantly grabbing his hand and whining when he'd tried to pull away. “I'm just starting the shower." He reassured, but you didn't let go. So he sighed before resigning himself to it and just picking you up to come with him. He started the shower and put you down.

Maybe it had all finally hit you, the fact that your impending death meant you'd never have these moments with him again, but you felt completely robotic. Your arms felt heavy and you felt lonely the moment he was no longer touching you. Your fingers fumbled as you tried to get undressed in your stupor, but Finnick’s warm hands overtook your own.

“Don't worry about it, angel, I told you I’ll take care of you." You nodded dumbly as he began helping you undress. You'd spent so much time recently trying to prove you could do this you'd forgotten how nice it was to just let him take control, let him take care of you. As he helped you into the shower the warm water made you more tired which he could tell, “I'm going to have to make the water cold to help wake you up, sweet girl, just for a little bit."

You'd mumbled something incoherently probably trying to argue, but you couldn't, you needed your head in the game today. Finnick gave you a second before turning the temperature over to cold, you weren't standing directly in the water, so the residual sprays of water misted your body making you shiver. He cupped his hands under the water, collecting some of it.

“Tilt your head back for me, angel, got to wake you up." You did so and closed your eyes as the icy water hit your face. Although you'd never admit it to him, the water itself wasn't what really was waking you up, well it was in a way. The cold instantly put you back into the arena, the way you'd all been dripping and shaking in the freezing rain for days on end. “You okay?"

You nodded, “Yeah, thank you."

“Awake enough that I can turn the water back?" He smiled softly at you as your hands moved up and down your arms trying to create heat.

“Yes, please." You were grateful when he did, making it burning hot like you preferred. It all made you miss your home in District 4 where it was usually warm outside and the water reflected that, or every time it was cool it was combined with heat. So rarely did the weather and water coincide to be bitingly cold in those cases you just refused to leave the house much to Finnick's chagrin.

He led you into the stream of water, its full heat covering you as he wet your hair. When he was fully satisfied he took his time washing it, hands massaging your scalp. “You know hot water is bad for your hair." He whispered as he washed some fancy shampoo out of it.

“I don't care and don't even think about it." You gave a warning look to him, he had a teasing look in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to let the woman I love damage her hair like this when I'm taking care of her?"

“I'll get out."

“Well we wouldn't want that." You felt so peaceful while he continued washing your hair by the time he was completely finished you felt less robotic and more malleable. Finnick began scrubbing your body clean, who knew how long until you'd be able to do that again, if ever. You soaked up every moment in fear that it could be the last time you went through this routine. He made sure you were sufficiently soapy before rinsing you off and moving onto your face. You didn't even know the names of the various Capitol products, but he did it all with ease. It almost felt unnecessary, the size of your pores didn't matter when you were fighting for your life, but you let him continue. It was calming, made you feel loved, cared for.

“Thank you, Finnick." You said when he finished, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He nodded, “Go dry off, angel, I'll be out soon."

“Don't wanna leave you." Your arms wrapped around him once again as you shook your head.

He kissed the top of your head, “Okay, angel, just stand right there and look pretty.” You took a couple of steps back as he washed himself off too, far enough to avoid most of the residual water spray when he turned the water back to cold as he cleaned his face and hair. Soon enough he was shutting off the shower head and grabbing two towels. He grabbed your hand, helping you out of the shower. “I got this too, my love."

He tied his towel around his waist before he began to dry you off. You were easy to move as he dried your hair as much as he could before sitting you down on the edge of the tub to brush your teeth. It gave you flashbacks, once upon a time you'd been sat here in this exact bathroom, in the same position as he did the same thing for you. It solidified in your mind how you wouldn't be able to live without him, he knew what you needed more than you did. Maybe because he'd dealt with it all himself and no one to do it for him, but he was always there to force you out of bed, take care of yourself, make you eat a meal, go outside, and endless other things that could have slipped your mind in favor of endless sleep. When he was done with your teeth he once again helped you up to spit on the sink and let you lean into his side as he began brushing his own.

“Let's go get you dressed." Without a word he picked you up the moment he was done brushing and brought you back to the room. The clothes didn't matter much when soon enough Cambrie would have you dressed to enter the arena, but you let him dress you in whatever he picked. Once you were both dressed, be kneeled down at the edge of the bed. “How hungry are you?"

"Not really.” But you knew you'd have to eat, the possibility it could be days until you found food again wasn't slim.

"Come on, we're going to have to try to get something in you.” He went to pick you up again.

"You're really sweet, but I can walk.”

"Preserving your energy, angel.” He smirked and held you regardless to bring you out to the table. His chair pulled up right next to yours as he got you a little bit of everything, anything that could keep you full enough for a while in the arena. You ate slowly in a comfortable silence, savoring the food that you might never taste again. In your heart you knew it was the anxiety keeping you from hunger, but you pushed on out of the larger fear of starvation in the Games.

“Good job, angel." He said softly, at first you didn't know why, but then it hit you that he needed you to be properly nourished as a sign you cared about survival. He picked up a peach from a basket on the table and handed it to you which you accepted gratefully.

You'd only relish in its sweetness for a few bites before your designers entered the room.

“It's time to go." Cambrie already sounded weepy, but that wasn't why your heart stopped. Finnick grabbed your hands intently.

“You come find me right away and I'll find you. If anything happens, you scream for me and I'll follow your voice. Don't go trying to save anyone. Please, promise me that." He said soberly, eyes boring into yours to ensure you were fully committed.

"I promise, Finnick." He nodded slowly before wrapping his arms around yours and you melted as his arms got tighter, like he didn't want to let go. He reluctantly pulled away as the two of you stood, leaving the peach on the table. You grabbed his face, kissing him as deeply as you could and he instantly did the same. “I'll see you soon." You mumbled breathlessly.

“I love you so much, you deserve to live, remember that."

"I love you, Finnick.” He kissed you again before you both were forced to get on with it, to enter the arena where the unknown and uncertain lie.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the platform began to rise, taking one last look at your stylist Cambrie who gave you a sickly sweet smile, she was convinced you would win and talked non-stop about all the benefits she would get if you did. But as the sky came into view you weren't so sure, different advice Finnick had given echoed in your head. How you needed to make your allies trust you, allow your instincts to take over, not freeze, stay logical, be wary of the environment around you, and about feeling guilty later.

Wind hit your face as you rose from the ground, quickly taking note of the environment. There was no sun out, it was cloudy, the ground was extremely muddy where the grasses were, but large chunks of dirty water made up different portions of the area surrounding the Cornucopia. You tilted your head to the side where you could see certain areas had trees, none of which were very green. It was mainly a marshland you concluded with some swamps dispersed throughout. Backpacks of supplies and different weapons lay scattered around the Cornucopia where most of the bounty lay, your allies had already agreed to go for it first thing. Not to hesitate when the gong ran out and to protect each other if someone else tried to attack. You couldn't see Conway from where you stood, but Marlowe wasn't far away on your left, staring intently forward and Birch to your right was looking around like you were. Meeting eyes for a second he just nodded his head.

It felt like the longest minute of your life, but soon enough the last few seconds were on the clock and the adrenaline in your body preparing you to spring forward. There it was, the resounding gong, and you jumped forward. Eyes searching for the closest weapon to defend yourself with. There they were, glistening with water, a few small knives and you lunged for them.

Right as your hands grasped them someone tackled you from behind. You felt your ear wet with mud as you turned over under the body on top of you, slashing your knife into whatever was above you, whatever had hands trying to grasp around your neck. Something warm hit your face as the hands went limp. You wiped your eyes with one hand to see a girl, you were pretty sure she was from District 8 above you. You pulled the blade out, pushing her off of you before scrambling off the ground, grabbing the remainder of the knives. There wasn't time to feel bad, you needed to get to the Cornucopia.

The boy from District 10? 12? Everything was too blurry, you just needed to survive, to get to everyone else. The boy caught your eye, he had a machete and before he could even come towards you with it, one of the knives flew out of your hand straight into his skull. He fell backwards and your brain told you to grab the weapons, keep going. Some small voice told you to stop, how messed up this all was, but your instincts said otherwise.

You finally saw Conway, pulling a spear out of the girl from District 3 you were pretty sure. Suddenly Marlowe was in your view too, picking up a backpack.

“Here!" You heard your own voice, but it didn't feel real and tossed the machete to her which she grabbed with ease.

“Thanks." She said quickly, and then Birch came out of the Cornucopia, bloody hatchet in hand. He had a backpack on and was holding two other ones. Throwing one to you and then Conway.

“We should fill them with what we can find before we clear out.” He said gruffly and you all nodded. You decided to grab an extra backpack as you all walked towards the Cornucopia, grabbing small weapons on the way to fill the bags. Conway and Birch went deeper inside as you and Marlowe looked around, keeping defense.

Thinking about Districts didn't even matter anymore, you could take stock later, one of the boys came at Marlowe with a sickle. You threw a knife into his chest, he took a step back, giving Marlowe enough time to thrust the machete through him. She pulled it out and grabbed the knife for you too, tossing it at you with a nod.

“I think we've got what we need." Conway's voice filled the crisp air. You dumped one of the backpacks contents into the other one, tossing the empty one on the ground before sliding the other one on. Marlowe picked up an ax before muttering something in agreement. As the four of you exited the Career pack approached. The air was tense, but it didn't make you nervous. It would be four against four, there would be no point in attacking now.

All of you kept eye contact as you passed by each other, Birch giving a brisk nod that the boy from District 1, Otto you thought his name was, returned one. So you all walked into an area with more trees, leaving the other pack to whatever was left behind in the Cornucopia.

“Do you think the water’s safe to drink?" Birch asked, looking around at the areas around you.

“It's muddy, it would have to be purified at least." You answered, trying to rub off the mud you could feel drying on your face.

“Who knows what could be inside it." Marlowe remarked, some sort of mutt ready to attack.

“We should sit here and see what we have, make a plan on where to camp and how to hunt." Conway pointed at a clump of rocks. Everyone agreed, it couldn't have been more than an hour yet you were all exhausted. Time was a construct here, they could make it day or night whenever they pleased.

Conway had two spears, a mace, a net, a water bottle, a plastic cover for rain, and some sort of bug spray.

“Oh my god, there's going to be some sort of poisonous bug." Marlowe shook her head.

“Maybe we'll get some more, we'll all share and use it sparingly." Conway said, filling the bag back up. When Birch opened his, you realized the bags weren't the same. You'd expected them too, but there were variations.

“Let's see we've got a hatchet, a sword, a serrated chain, a box of matches, this super small bottle of iodine, a tarp, and a random coil of wire, which I don't think is useful to any of us. Good thing we grabbed more than one bag." He remarked, leaning back on the rock.

Marlowe emptied out hers putting her axe and machete to one side, “A sickle, an empty bottle of water, more bug spray, thankfully, another plastic cover for rain, and these weird glasses.” She played with them in her hands.

“They're for seeing in the dark." You said, hand burrowing in the moss on the rock. “Um I've the throwing knives, a dagger, dried fruit, another bottle of iodine, and an empty bottle of water-” You internally thanked yourself for grabbing two, "Rope, more matches, a compass, and this metal bowl."

Conway nodded, “If we come across any more backpacks we should take them too." What he really meant was if you came across someone to kill them and take their things, but he didn't dare state it aloud.

“We should set up some snares, we can start a fire on the rock, so get some firewood, and fill the water bottles we do have." Marlowe stood up, axe in hand.

“What if someone sees the smoke?" Birch asked, sliding a bit as he stood.

“Then there's four of us and one of them, the Careers won't attack us, not yet. We can use the wire for fish-hooks, see if there's any to catch. I'll make a fishing rod and we can use the net." You filled the bag back up and stood on the muddy ground.

Birch nodded, “Good thinking." He smiled, he had the type of smile that was so infectious it made the most mournful times somewhat happier.

“Let's put on some of the spray first." Conway pulled out the bottle, shaking it. Trying to use it sparsely, save it as long as possible. All of you stayed nearby, but still split for your tasks. You made some rods with stray branches, cut off some of the rope, and wire. Setting them into the mud, if there were some fish you'd set up the net wherever you camped for future meals. Conway had begun filling up the bottles you had and putting in the iodine to purify what you did have. Birch had decided he would set up some snares and borrowed your dagger in case there was something he could kill before it even hit the snares.

Marlowe got done with the firewood the quickest, saying how back in District 7 there were punishments if quotas weren't filled fast enough so she'd been forced to learn how fast she could chop wood since she was a child.

“Caught anything?" She asked, setting down the wood on a tarp to keep it dry.

You shook your head, “No, I'm too worried about whatever poisonous bugs might be here to dig for worms. If Birch catches anything I'll use part of it for bait, I might just throw the net in though."

"Here I found some crickets.” Conway came over, hands cupped.

"Are we sure they're not poisonous?” Marlowe asked as she began setting up the fire.

"Looks like plain old crickets to me.” Conway laughed, grabbing on the rods to stick them on the hooks. Slowly, but surely the fish began coming in. “I'll skin and you keep catching?" He asked, squeezing your shoulder.

You smiled up at him, “Sounds good to me." Marlowe had a fire started the moment everyone was ready, hours had passed by the time you'd caught a good enough share, skinned them, began to cook them, and Birch returned with some rabbits.

“We should eat here and then move to find a different camp before the sun goes down." Marlowe was helping Birch with the rabbits while you cleaned off the knives being used for each thing. You'd eaten much better than you'd expected too, trout and rabbit, plus having water. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you started. Immediately you began packing up camp, Conway filled up and purified the water bottles again before you all started trekking again. The temperature began to drop and the jacket stopped doing as much as it had been doing before, you all finally stopped at an area with more dense greenery and trees. Laying out the tarps and plastic covers to try for some warmth.

Then there the light was in the sky, time to find out which tributes were dead. Both tributes from District 3, the girl to Conway. You thought of that poor 13 year old boy's family watching their baby die and silently prayed he'd gone quick. No one from 1,2, or 4 which was unsurprising. Birch had killed the boy from 5 and the boy from 6 is the one who'd tried coming at you and Marlowe. That was the female tributes from 5 and 6 still alive plus both District 7 tributes, since they were both with you. The girl from 8 was you, but the male tribute was also dead, probably from one of the Career’s. Both from 9 were dead, both from 10 probably even more from the Careers. 11 was still alive, but you were right about thinking the boy who was going to attack you was from 12, his district partner survived though. 13 tributes left, 11 dead in one day.

Everyone was quiet, solemn. “I'll take first watch." Your shaky voice cut through the night air, after the silence had almost become unbearable.

“Me too." Conway's arms were around your shoulders, he wasn't particularly warm, but it was better than sitting alone. Birch and Marlowe agreed, laying down to get some sleep. You stared at the night sky, there were very few stars in the sky even if you knew they were artificial, it made you even more upset. Nothing would beat the feeling of you and Finnick sitting on the beach at night, staring at the stars over the glistening water as his warmth surrounded you like some sort of shield.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“I'm just going to miss you so much!" Cambrie was bawling onto your shoulder. The Capitol woman who's whole life was ahead of her was crying to you, the one about to be sent to a battle of the death. “I'm going to dedicate a whole fashion line to you, it'll be such a hit." She meant well, she really did and that's what you reminded yourself.

“Including the wedding dress?" If anything it made you want to cry more thinking about how this poor, misguided woman still cared about you so much.

“Oh yes. With a train like you're walking on water and sea foam." She pulled away to blow her nose. “You just have to come back, gorgeous, I'll literally die without you." Ironic. “Maybe they'll be a hologram or something, won't be as good as the real thing, but you're my muse." The sickening part was definitely back, but she raised to be shallow so she was. A voice echoed around the room indicating your need to get on the platform. You hugged her one last time and she kissed you on the cheek, probably leaving trails of pink glitter but at least it was a proper goodbye.

“Thank you, Cambrie. I couldn't have asked for a better designer." You walked over to the platform that closed around you, giving her a soft smile as he waved a goodbye, tears streaking down her slightly purple tinted skin.

Your foot tapped nervously on the platform and you hoped that at the very least it wouldn't be a cold arena. You began moving up, sun, you could see sunlight, that was good, at least you'd have sunshine. The smell of salt air hit your nostrils and it shocked you, a smell you were pretty sure would be left at home was right here. If you died, you'd die knowing that wasn't the last time you were one with the salty waters. When you were finally all the way up you looked around anxiously, it was water, clear, seawater you had to swim to get to the Cornucopia or the rows of rocks that you could walk on. Jungle was on the other side of the beaches, but there were beaches that felt almost too good to be true, like it was perfect for District 4. The sun cut in the way of your vision making it nearly impossible to make out faces, but you couldn't find Finnick. You took some deep breaths, preparing to dive the moment the gong rang out. He'd go straight to the Cornucopia and try to find Katniss so you'd do the same.

The instant the gong let out you'd dived in, having eyed the nearest part of land so you could try and make the quickest swim there. It didn't take long and you were hoisting yourself on the rocks. Running forwards to the shiny structure where he had to be. A hand from the side grabbed your leg and you tried to kick it off, “Finnick!" You shouted as the person attached to the hand emerged from the side of the rocks, pulling you down. He was from District 9, a lot older, but he was still much stronger. Brute strength had never been on yours side, but you could tell it was on his. “Finnick, Finnick!" You screamed, trying to kick the man off of his. His hands grabbed your shoulders harshly before punishing them back, head roughly hitting the rocks. It was dizzying, your head felt like it was literally spinning and your nose made it feel like you were drowning. Hands flew up, your vision was somewhat blurry, but last time you'd been in this position you'd taken out Conway’s eye. Even if that kept you up at night, you could do it again. “Finnick!" Scratching at the man's face seemed to be doing very little besides delaying him as he tried to bat away your hands. Then he was coughing, sputtering blood all over your face the shock he seemed to be going through gave you an opportunity to kick him off of you, his weight on you made it a struggle but the adrenaline forced you to persist. He fell flat when you did escape and then you saw the axe in his back. You looked up, Johanna was headed your way.

You wanted to say thank you, but you felt somewhat frozen, your mouth tasted like iron, and she was somewhat blurry. “He's over in the Cornucopia, with Katniss." She said, tearing her ax out of the man’s back. Her eyes found Wiress and she went to get her, mostly because according to Haymitch it was her way in with Katniss, she'd only take Johanna if she'd saved who Katniss wanted.

Your hands went to wipe your face and there was more blood on your hands then anticipated then it hit you that your nose was bleeding, the shock hadn't allowed you to initially realize, but you probably looked like a mess of free falling blood. “Finnick!" You yelled, your head ached as you kept running forward. Through the ringing that had begun in your ears you could faintly hear your name being called. You finally caught sight of him running towards you, a seemingly reluctant Katniss behind him.

“What happened?" He asked, wiping some of the blood off of your face.

“Nine, Johanna just saved my life." Your mouth felt like it was filling with the blood as you wiped your face again.

“Well, I'll have to thank her sometime." Finnick smiled even though you could tell he was still concerned, so were you, the pounding in your head still hadn't gone away. “Here." He slid three small knives into your palm, “Grabbed them when I was in there for you, angel."

“Thank you." He quickly kissed you, getting his own lips getting smeared with blood. There were no complaints as he wiped it off and turned back to Katniss.

“Peeta! Peeta!" She was looking around frantically.

“Found him! Over here!" Finnick shouted, handing you his trident as he dived into the waters where Peeta was struggling to stay afloat. Katniss ran over as Finnick brought Peeta back to the shore.

“Peeta!" She helped pull him up and you all paused a moment as he gained balance. You handed Finnick back his trident. The ebbing pain in your head was finally seeming to lessen.

“Let's head out this way." Finnick said, arm around you as he began walking forward. Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus, and Enobaria continued on with their Bloodbath as your group made its way onto the beach and into the jungle. There were no supplies waiting around this time, you supposed they weren't intending for this to be a long enough game to need a survival kit just weapons. It felt safer though, you had Finnick, warm, protective, hovering Finnick. There would be no need to imagine the times you had with him when he was right there even if the plan was dangerous enough to get you both executed regardless of what happened in the arena.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading I was so excited to write this one, but I've been pretty busy so it took me a while to get finished but I'm so glad I did. thank you all for the feedback and support, if you enjoyed it let me know comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated and my ask box is always open. 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #thg #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x you

335 notes · View notes