#(Note that I say all this of course still hoping we won't have to fight the 5th harbinger much less kill him XD I still want him on my team) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corroded-hellfire · 4 months

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As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 8

Collaboration with the Dusty Bun to my Steeb @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: The unresolved fight between you and Eddie continues as your birthday comes around and he still won't come to celebrate with you and your friends.

Note: I can't believe it's been over a year now since I started writing this series. That feels insane to me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving

Words: 6.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Today should have been perfect.

For one, it’s your birthday, and it coincides with your off day from classes. You got a free coffee from the local café this morning. And your friends are planning a night out at the bar now that you’ve finally reached the legal drinking age.

But it’s not perfect, because you and Eddie still haven’t spoken since your argument. To be honest, you’re not sure if he even wants to fix things.

It’s all you thought about the whole day while you babysat Danny and Amelia Harrington. You force yourself to concentrate on the road as you drive to pick the older kids up from school, the youngest two safely buckled in the car seats.

Ryan and Natalie walk out first, bundled up to fight off the heavy wind and animatedly discussing some intense second-grade gossip. Luke and Theo trail behind, play-fighting until they reach the car.

The sliding doors have barely opened before Luke is climbing into the car and shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You wince, massaging your ear with your forefinger. “Thanks, little man,” you say, and the rest of the group chimes in with their own cheers.

“I got you a gift!” Luke chirps, something crinkling in his grasp. He hands you a bright blue snack pack of mini Oreos. It’s opened and currently only contains a single cookie.

You smile gratefully, trying not to laugh. “My favorite!” you exclaim, taking the lone Oreo and popping it in your mouth.

Ryan digs into his backpack and takes out a yellow piece of construction paper. “I made you this card,” he says shyly.

It reads, “Happy Birthday to the best babysitter in the world!” Below the printed words, he’s drawn himself, Luke, you, and Eddie. Your heart pangs when you think about that stupid fight, the one where you’d both let your insecurities run wild.

If this is the end of the relationship, how will you break it to the boys?

You don’t have time to ruminate on that before Luke leads everyone, even baby Amelia, into a very off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to You. Even if Amelia can’t speak yet, her melodic mumbling and gurgling only enhanced the performance. They’ve barely taken a breath after the song is finished before Natalie and Theo are asking questions.

“How old are you?”

“Are you gonna have cake?”

“What presents did you get?”

Luke, of course, pipes up with a request of his own:

“Since it’s your birthday, can we get McDonalds? I want a Happy Meal.”

When you get back to the Harrington household—sans McDonald’s to Luke’s disappointment—you situate the two youngest in front of the television and pop Mulan into the VHS player for them. Once you’ve made sure Amelia is securely in her walker and Danny is cuddled up on the couch between his favorite teddy bear and his stuffed rhinoceros, you head into the kitchen to prepare a snack for the older kids.

The four of them seem to be doing alright with their homework as you put one bowl of baby carrots and one bowl of Cheez-It crackers on the table. Unsurprisingly, four small hands grab for the processed orange snack, bypassing the healthier option all together.

For the next hour or so you flit back and forth between the dining room to help with homework and the living room to attend to any toddler needs or upsets. The time passes quicker than you would’ve thought, and you’re surprised when you hear the front door unlocking. You had known Steve and Nancy would be coming home early today to give you a chance to go out and celebrate your birthday, but the hour snuck up on you.

The moment that Amelia hears her parents step into the house, she’s no longer interested in the avalanche that buried the Huns and has the urgent need for her mom to pick her up.

“They weren’t too much trouble, I hope,” Steve says as he reaches up to muss Theo’s hair. The little boy just ignores him as he tries to figure out the math problem he’s been working on for the last five minutes.

“Nah, not too bad,” you say. Trying to contain a smirk, you lean in towards Steve and speak in a loud conspiratorial whisper. “Except…these two,” you say, gesturing to Ryan and Natalie. “Evil masterminds.”

Natalie just hmphs and tosses her light brown hair over her shoulder while Ryan sticks his tongue out at you. With a chuckle, you walk over and press a kiss to the top of the eldest Munson boy’s head.

“I’m gonna get going, okay?” you tell him. The truth is that you definitely have time to spare before you have to start getting ready for the bar tonight, but you want to make sure you’re gone by the time Eddie gets here.

Ryan turns in his seat to look at you and opens his mouth, but before he can speak Eddie enters the house. Your body has had many different reactions to Eddie over the course of you knowing one another, but the one that comes over you now is completely foreign. Heat seems to rise to your cheeks, but it feels like your veins are made of ice and you could snap them beneath your skin if you moved too quickly.

Eddie toes off his chunky black work boots by the front door and does a double take when he sees you standing by Ryan. He gives you a tentative smile and you give a small nod in recognition. Needing to focus on something else, you look back down at Ryan and gently move some of his growing honey colored hair off of his forehead. You can still see Eddie in your periphery though. He’s coming closer towards you, and it feels like every step he takes makes your heart race a little faster.

Once he’s so close that you can’t avoid looking at him, you notice a small pink gift bag in his hands. Eddie’s deep brown eyes are looking down at it too, but you both raise your heads simultaneously and meet each other’s gaze. Pain and longing radiate off the two of you so strongly that even baby Amelia could probably sense it.

“Happy birthday, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, offering you the bag.

Slowly, you reach out to take it, the white tissue paper that sticks out of the top crinkling beneath your fingers. You give Eddie a polite smile and start to leave, but Luke stops you in your tracks.

“You gotta open it!”

A nod is the only response you can give Luke, not trusting your voice—or even knowing what you’d say. Biting your lip, you ruffle through the pristine white tissue paper and pull out a pair of earrings fastened to an earring card. They’re beautiful. Three tiny hearts stacked on top of each other, all purple and connected by silver chain links. The urge to put them on immediately is strong,

“The hearts…one’s for Ryan, one’s for Luke, and one’s for, um, me,” Eddie explains bashfully as he slips his hands into his pockets.

Your eyes fill with tears, a cacophony of emotions in each drop.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, bending down to hug Luke and Ryan. You stand up and face Eddie, feeling the boys’ eyes drilling into you as they wait for you to embrace their dad like you always do.

You lean in and give him a small hug, lingering for an extra moment. He smells of motor oil and sweat, but you can’t get enough. It’s a test of wills to tear yourself away from him. As you pull back, a tight smile forms on your face.

“I should get going,” you tell them kindly.

“Where’re you going?” Luke asks.

You ruffle his hair lovingly. “My friends are having a birthday party for me. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Or,” Ryan offers, dragging out the word, “we could treat you to dinner tomorrow.”

Luke grins. “Can we go to McDonalds?”

You can’t help but laugh. The boys bring you more humor and joy than they could possibly imagine.

“You boys are too much sometimes,” you tell them. If you’re being honest, you would love to spend time with them and Eddie, even if it’s just eating fast food. Anywhere with the three of them becomes its own adventure. It breaks your heart knowing there’s still this friction between you and Eddie and you’re not exactly on speaking terms. You can’t dwell on it, though. Not tonight.

When you arrive at the bar, it’s bursting with people. Groups have gathered to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, clinking oversized mugs teeming with foamy beer. It’s much noisier than you’d normally prefer, but you’re glad for the excess sound to drown out your thoughts.

Jess spots you immediately and waves you over to where she, Lily, and Paul are sitting in front of the bartender. As soon as you plop down on a stool, Lily places a sash around you.

“It’s my 21st birthday? Really?”

“Well, it is!” she quips with a laugh. “Besides, people will totally buy you drinks if you wear this.”

She isn’t wrong. You take shot after shot, eventually losing track of the total amount. A tiny voice in your head reminds you not to mix light and dark liquor, but it’s too late for that.

Your friends keep toasting to the ‘birthday girl,’ which prompts more people to cheer and offer to treat you to another round. By the time you get up to dance, your head is spinning.

You sway along to Bon Jovi’s ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ until you can no longer stand. Jess is kindly letting you lean on her, her arm wrapped around your waist, when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

“Can I buy you a drink?” an unfamiliar voice asks, tone laced with sultriness.

You turn around to see a guy about your age, a ten-dollar bill between his pointer and middle fingers.

“Oh, I-I shouldn’t,” you start, but Lily jumps in instead.

“She would love that.” She smiles at him, then whispers in your ear, “the best way to get over Eddie is to get under someone else.” She sticks out her hand to the mystery man and introduces both herself and you. I don’t want to get over Eddie, your brain thinks before drunkenly attempting to focus on what the man in front of you is saying now.

Mystery Man smiles. “I’m Stefon.”

Unbeknownst to you, one Wayne Munson is watching the entire encounter from across the bar. It isn’t his usual digs, but the guys from the plant invited him out for drinks to celebrate the holiday, and he obliged.

He sees you take another drink with trepidation, a young man resting his hand on your hip. It seems like you’re barely aware of what’s going on, sending a queasiness through Wayne’s stomach that definitely isn’t from the alcohol. He’s used to minding his business, but when the guy puts his arm around you, he makes the decision to call Eddie from the payphone.

Just under fifteen minutes later, Eddie is pushing his way into the smoky and boisterous bar, eyes anxiously scanning for you. A surge of relief floods his veins when he sees your beautiful familiar face amongst the sea of green clothing, but the feeling is short-lived when he sees you leaning on a strange man.

It’s hard to tell if you’re aware that you’re leaning on him or not, because you’re talking to Lily animatedly. The man has his eyes glued to you, but he may or may not be on your radar. Your boyfriend isn’t waiting to find out, though. Eddie’s met your friend Paul who you’re out with tonight, so he immediately knows it isn’t him with you and Lily, so he shoves his way through the crowd and shoulders the mystery man out of the way and gently holds your arm to steady you.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Eddie says, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd and music. He’s doing his best to be inconspicuous but you’re too drunk for that.

“Eddie!” You fling your arms around him in a hug and let out a loud and giddy laugh. Eddie feels a small surge of pride when you seem to forget all about the guy standing there—if you’d even remembered he was there to begin with. When he looks into your eyes, he can see the glassiness from the alcohol as well as glee that seeing him caused. “Eddie, what’re you doing here? You didn’t wan’ be here!”

He takes a deep breath, inhaling a lung full of secondhand smoke. “You need water and sleep, baby,” he says, trying to be heard over the music.

“But it’s my party!” you whine, giving an exaggerated pout. “An’ you didn’t come ‘cuz you don’t love me.”

His brows shoot up as his heart falls. “I don’t love you?” Obviously, you’re drunk but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Nuh-uh.” You scrunch your nose. “Maybe you do, ‘cuz you’re here now.” Your frown quickly flips to a drunken smile. “We should dance! ‘Cuz you love me!”

Eddie tilts his head, giving you a skeptical look. “I thought you said I didn’t.”

“But you came here to see me, so you do,” you explain as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. The fact that you’re swaying where you stand doesn’t help your credibility though.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see the man you were leaning on finally slink away. Apparently, he only needed to hear the confirmation that Eddie does indeed love you.

“Let me take you home, princess,” Eddie says, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“That sounds like a line,” you say with a giggle that’s interrupted by a hiccup.

“It’s probably the most chivalrous thing anyone’s said to you tonight,” Eddie says, looking around at the other men in the bar like they’re vultures, ready to step in and claim you for their own. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you lament with an over dramatic sigh. “But just cause you’re so cute.” You giggle again as you lean against Eddie.

At least she’s leaning against me now, he thinks bitterly. Too exasperated for more words, Eddie just presses a kiss to the top of your head and laces his fingers with yours—tightly, so he won’t lose you in the crowded bar.

Eddie catches Jess’s eye where she’s leaning against the bar and nods towards the door, letting her know that he’s taking you home. She nods in return and gives a thumbs up. Eddie scans the crowd to see if he can spot his uncle, but there’s just too many people.

“Hey, you’re not wearin’ green,” you say once you’re outside in the cool night air. The air feels fresh yet too silent after being in that stuffy place.

“Hmm?” Eddie hums as he helps you into the passenger’s seat.

“No green! Is St. Pagrick Day though!”

“Your birthday is a far more important holiday,” he says as he closes the door for you. He doesn’t even consider if you heard the words or not, it was his inner monologue just coming out.

The drive back to the apartment starts off with you chattering on, still feeling good from the drinks.

“It’s so cute that the boys wanna buy me MiDonal’s! They’re the sweetest boys ever. Where are we goin’? Oh, hey! You’re movin’ into your new aparment soon. Do you still wan’ me to—hey look, a dog!—wan’ me to go shopping for the stuff that you need? Eddie? Are you still mad at me? I hope not. I don’t like when we fight. I never wanna fight witchu. I love you! I never loved no one before, ya know. Just you! I was only bein’ such a pain in the butt because I wanna be by your side. Like partners. Wanna help you and have fun with you and do all the things with you. I hope you wanna be that with me too! Like Bonnie and Clyde! But no stealing or dying. Do you, hey, hey Eddie, do you remember that time a long time ago you said you liked that blue shirt I wore? Ya know, the one with the buttons and sleeves? Well, now it’s my favorite—”

Eddie glances over, concerned that your speech—that was highly amusing to him—stopped so abruptly. You’re just looking up at the streetlights as they pass, your eyes getting heavier by the second, the mesmerizing sight lulling you to sleep.

Eddie chuckles to himself and the rest of the drive is quiet.

When you finally arrive back at the apartment, you’re practically comatose in the passenger seat. Eddie half carries you up the stairs and holds you close to his side with one arm while he unlocks the door with the other.

Somehow, he manages to get you laying down on your bed without bumping into anything on the way. You look up at him with a sleepy smile that Eddie swears is the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m gonna help you change, okay? I don’t think that dress will be comfortable to sleep in.”

You nod absentmindedly as Eddie grabs a pair of your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Eddie is an expert at undressing you by now but it’s harder when your body can’t even hold itself up. The green dress gets stuck on your nose as Eddie pulls it off over your head and it makes you giggle, though it’s much softer than your laughter in the car. He slips your pink plaid pajama bottoms over your white lace panties and chuckles to himself as he sees he pulled a Rugrats t-shirt out of your drawer. An amused smile grows on his face as he shakes his head.

“Better?” he asks.

A big yawn accompanies the nod that you give him. Satisfied that you’re not going to fall over if he lets go, Eddie walks towards the head of the bed so he can pull your blankets down. It takes both of you working together to get you beneath the blankets.

Once you’re settled, Eddie shucks himself out of his jeans and t-shirt and climbs in bed next to you. Without any hesitation, you scoot over and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to your head.

Eddie isn't sure if in the morning, once you’ve sobered up, you’ll still be fighting or not. He doesn’t want to be, but he also knows the issues haven’t been resolved between the two of you. What you said tonight about Eddie not loving you definitely has to be addressed tomorrow—whether you were drunk or not when you said it, he doesn’t care.

Soft snores begin to fill your room and Eddie smiles to himself. His eyes slip closed, and he holds you a little tighter against his body.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says into the darkness.

You wake up the next morning with a dull headache. It definitely could be worse, especially considering how much you’d drank last night.

There’s two Tylenol and a bottle of water on your nightstand, none of which you remember putting there…

You shift positions and see Eddie curled up on the pillow next to you, wearing just his boxers. Soft snores punctuate the rise and fall of his chest.

“Eddie?” you whisper, eyes wide.

He stirs and stretches, giving you a small smile.

“Morning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um, just a headache. Not too much of a hangover.” You’re working to figure out exactly why he’s here.

He grins. “Must be nice to be 21,” he jokes. “I have one beer too many and I’m out of commission for a week.”

You’re too focused on the maybe-boyfriend-shaped elephant in the room to laugh at his joke. Instead, you take a deep breath and muster up all of your courage.

“Did we, um…”

Eddie pulls back. “No. Nope!” He shakes his head. “I brought you home and we fell asleep. I promise.”

You nod, relief flooding your body. “Okay. Okay, good.” You swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I’ll make some breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You get out of bed and stretch your muscles before heading towards the door. But first you stop and look back at Eddie. “I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”

“No,” Eddie assures you. “Your knight in shining leather got there before anything could happen.” He flexes his muscles dramatically, which causes you to chuckle as you step out of your room and into the bathroom.

Eddie puts his clothes from yesterday back on and heads out to the kitchen. He makes pancakes, and you come out of your room freshly showered and dressed just as they’re ready.

“Smells good,” you say, rubbing at your eye. The shower helped wake you up, but your body is still tired from last night.

You and Eddie sit down across from one another and start eating in silence before you can’t take it anymore.

“Um, where are the boys?” you ask, desperate for some semblance of an interaction.

“Harrington’s,” Eddie answers before shoving a mouthful of syrup-covered pancake into his mouth. “Steve and Nance said they got them, I should go to you.”

“And, uh, why did you show up? I mean, did you change your mind about celebrating with us or..?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “Wayne was, um, actually at the bar last night with some guys from his work. He saw some assholes starting to get handsy with you, so he called me.”

“Oh.” You stay quiet as you move a few pieces of pancake around on your plate.

You had hoped Eddie had changed his mind and wanted to spend your birthday night with you after all, but he was only there because his uncle called him.

Eddie bites his lower lip, hating the tension in the air. The two of you used to sit in comfortable silences with one another, so this is excruciating.

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie says before pausing to clear his throat. “It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with you. Because I did. I do. I always do. I just, I don’t know, thought I’d bring the party down. I didn’t want you to feel like I was supervision or some shit like that. And I wasn’t sure how I’d meld in with your friends.”

“Eddie,” you start before taking a deep breath. “I never think of you as some authority type figure. You’re just Eddie. Like, yeah, maybe you’re twelve years older than me, but I don’t really feel like there’s this chasm between us or anything. Do…do you?”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, making sure he picks his words carefully so as not to give you a wrong impression. “When it’s you and me? No. When it’s us and the boys? No. But when it comes to you hanging out with your friends, I guess I feel, I don’t know, like I don’t belong.”

“Belong where?”

He sighs and twirls one of his rings around his finger as a nervous twitch. “When I see your friends it’s this reminder that I’m not your age. It feels like all the shit that I try not to let bother me is unavoidable as I see you with guys it would be more socially acceptable for you to date. Or seeing your girl friends going off to do things with their boyfriends that I can’t because of my job and kids. It makes me feel selfish.” His eyes mist over for a second. “Like I’m keeping you from that.”

“Eddie, no one is keeping me from anything. Especially you. You act like I don’t have a choice or say in this. I’m pretty sure you didn’t kidnap me and rope me into an arranged marriage or something.” You give a small smile, hoping to ease some of the frustration radiating off of him. “I don’t want someone my age. I don’t want someone younger. I don’t want someone older that isn’t you.”

“I know that,” Eddie says. “I swear, I do. I guess I’ve had a number done on me, though. Got beaten down enough that the insecurity comes second nature. It’s not your fault, you shouldn’t have to pay for things that she did.”

“Can I beat her?”

He chuckles and seeing him smile makes a genuine one grow on your own face.

“She’s not worth it,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “But I see where you were coming from with being upset. It probably did seem like I just didn’t want to go out with you and your friends. I’m sorry. I also get where you’re coming from with the court stuff. Wanting to be by my side. Princess, you have no idea how much that means to me. Honestly. I just…I don’t want you to have to be in the middle of all of that.”

“I know,” you say, lowering your eyes back down to your plate. “I’m sorry, too. I was overstepping when it came to Brittany. That’s your ordeal, you get to call the shots when it comes to that. I only want you to know that you have my support. In whatever way you need it.”

He reaches across the table and slips his hand into yours. “I promise to tell you in what ways I’ll need your support through this whole thing.”

You nod and give his hand a small squeeze. The air around you feels lighter and it’s as if weights have been lifted off your shoulders.

“Are—Are we okay?” you ask, wanting to clarify.

“We’re more than okay,” he reassures you as he returns your hand squeeze with one of his own. “But there is something else we need to talk about.”

“Sure. What?”

He sighs and gently taps your entwined hands against the tabletop. “Last night…when I got to the bar to pick you up, you, um, you said something. I know you were drunk but it still hurt.”

Immediately you feel mortified. Did I really…?

“I thought you said I didn’t do anything stupid?”

“Well, this was saying something stupid.”

How bad was it that it’s making him stall like this? “What did I say?” You wince, afraid to hear what you might’ve said in your inebriated state.

“You, uh, you said that I didn’t love you. That I didn’t come to the bar with you and your friends because I don’t love you.”

Your eyes are immediately flooded with tears. The heartbreak and shame you feel for uttering something so absurd cuts you deeply, and you push yourself out of your chair and walk around the table to Eddie. He scoots back so you can perch yourself in his lap.

Gently, you cup Eddie’s face in your hands and stare into his eyes. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Please always remember that. Sober, drunk, high, or otherwise in an altered state…I love you. I am so sorry I said that to you. It amazes me that somehow you love me, but that doesn’t mean I doubt it for a second.”

Eddie nods and wraps his arms around your waist. Your shirt rides up a little and his syrupy fingers rub against your skin—but you couldn’t care less.

“You’re mine,” you tell him. “I’m yours. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” Eddie agrees.

The two of you sit there together for a few silent minutes before Jess’s door creaks open and she shuffles into the kitchen, looking far worse than you felt when you woke up. She gives a half-hearted wave, as if even that small movement was too much for her.

Eddie smiles and nods his head towards the kitchen counter. “I made a stack of pancakes for you,” he says.

Jess heads towards the counter but pauses to put a hand on your shoulder. “If you don’t marry him, I will,” she vows.

Deciding to play hooky from school and work didn’t take much convincing for you or Eddie. You’re not feeling great, and he’s more than happy to take care of you.

You’re washing the breakfast dishes while Eddie stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y’know,” he murmurs just under your ear, “I had another birthday surprise up my sleeve.”

He pulls you closer, and you try—and fail—to focus on the task at hand. “And what’s that?”

He smirks and presses soft kisses into your neck. “Well, I bought a bottle of champagne,” he says, “and I figured we could have some drunk sex?”

You snap off the water and dry your hands, spinning to face him. “And where is this bottle of champagne, handsome?”

Eddie blushes slightly. “Um, at the Harringtons’ place,” he admits. “But we could still do the sex part, if you’re feeling up to it.”

You press your body to his, grinning widely. “Bedroom?”

“Hell yes.”

Clothes are shed instantly, leaving a trail that leads to your room. You lay back on the bed and Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting his leg between yours and kissing you softly.

“Let me take care of my birthday girl, hm?” he coos, nibbling on your ear. He chuckles when you whimper, two of his thick fingers trailing downward towards your pussy. “Oh, you poor thing. Needy already?”

“Mhm.”

He grins, scooting back and pressing his lips just above your clit. His tongue grazes your folds, over the sensitive bud, and he sucks on it gently. You moan when he positions your legs on his shoulders. “Keep making those noises, baby.”

You eagerly oblige, whining as he slips his middle finger into your pussy, tongue remaining trained on your clit. The overstimulation has you grinding against his face, desperate to get some relief.

He wraps his free hand around your thigh and squeezes it, bringing himself even closer into you. Muffled, barely audible fucks and tastes goods escape his lips, driving you even wilder.

“E-Eddie, I’m gonna cum!” you mewl, fingers digging into the bed sheets. He continues lapping at your cunt until you’re screaming his name.

Eddie pulls back, face shiny with your slick. “Need you,” he growls, and his painfully hard cock bobs in agreement.

He crawls up your body, pressing kisses to your soft flesh as he makes his way towards your neck. Teeth gently graze the side of your throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Taking advantage of your legs spread openly before him, Eddie settles himself between them and lines his cock up with your soaking entrance. It feels like it takes an eternity until he finally bottoms out, making you feel so full and revel in that exquisite stretch.

Sweat breaks out along your hairline and it melds with Eddie’s as he rests his forehead against yours. The bed beneath you shakes as your body rocks with your boyfriend’s. A slight tilt of his hips has your hands scrambling against the lilac sheet below you, desperate to hold on to something—anything. Eddie wants you to hold on to him, though. His pale toned arms seek out your own until he slips his hands into yours and threads your fingers together. Never breaking eye contact even for a second, Eddie holds your hands up above your head, staring down at you with a blissful expression on his face. He’s not smiling, but there’s a light in his eyes and the way his lips part just slightly only adds to your enjoyment.

“I love you, sweet girl,” Eddie says, voice low and husky in the small space you’re both occupying. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“L-Love you, too, Eds.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his hips roll up against yours. “You have the cutest nose. I hope any kids we have inherit that from you.”

With every thrust of Eddie’s hips, he lists another thing he loves about you.

“Your lips are so soft. Sometimes I get torn between kissing them or staring at them. And your laugh? God, you have no idea what that does to me. It’s so infectious and bubbly and completely genuine. One of the best sounds in the world.”

There’s nothing else in the world right now other than Eddie’s voice and Eddie’s body. All that exists is the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as pleasurable groans and whimpers fall from your lips. Sweet sighs and shared breath connect you both, adding to the already dizzying intimacy. You stare up into those large brown eyes and for that moment everything is perfect in the world. The moment belongs to you, and nothing will ever take it from you.

Eddie leans in to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips. He pulls away only far enough for you to fix your gazes on one another’s eyes again. His hip thrusts are becoming increasingly erratic, a sign that he’s nearing his finish.

Curls sway back and forth around his face, like a curtain keeping you two separated from everything else.

More than anything, you know what’s going to have you reaching your high is the locked stares you share. Eddie looks so intently into your eyes, as if he’ll find answers to all of his problems in them. It’s sexier than any words either of you could possibly vocalize. The look says so much more than your voices ever could.

“I’m close,” you tell him in a rough whisper. Your fingers tighten on his and Eddie’s hips rock slightly harder into yours.

“Me too, baby.”

The urge to close your eyes floats over you as your impending orgasm gets closer by the second, but you refuse. Even blinking is too long to look away from the eyes of the man you love. Eddie agrees, never taking those brown beauties off of you as he feels his release closing in.

“Eddie,” you whimper, more just needing to say his name than anything else. “Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

“I know, my love.”

“Gonna cum, Eds,” you slur.

“With me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out more than speak.

All it takes is two more thrusts before Eddie’s spilling into you. Him coating your walls with his release is enough to have you falling headfirst into your euphoria as well.

Both of you ride it out together, trying to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it that you could from one another. By the lazy smiles you give one another as you try and catch your breaths, you’d say that you both enjoyed it very much.

Eddie leans down and presses a sweet but sensuous kiss to your lips before begrudgingly pulling out of you. Neither of you like it, so you’re quick to cuddle up to one another, desperate to have your arms wrapped around the warm skin of his middle.

“That was…wow,” you say after a few minutes of companionable silence.

“Very wow,” Eddie agrees, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Y’know, there’s something else I’d like to add to that list, now that I have blood flowing to my brain.”

“Yeah?”

“Your heart,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Just when I think it can’t get any bigger or warmer, you prove me wrong time and time again. The kindness and generosity that you have is something I’ve never seen in another person. You’re so amazingly you and I’ve been enchanted by it since the day I met you. Sometimes I feel like this is all a fairytale except the prince is the one constantly swept off his feet.”

“The princess is too,” you assure him through increasingly labored breath. “Very, very swept.”

Letting your suddenly heavy eyes slip closed, you tuck your head beneath Eddie’s chin and revel in his touch. A nap with you in his arms sounds like heaven right now, but Eddie knows there’s something he has to say before he forgets.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” Your sleepy voice brings a smile to his face.

“Luke asked me to bring over McDonalds.”

“C’mon, let’s go hit the drive-thru.”

You move to get up, but Eddie keeps you right where you are.

“Not yet. Naps first. Food for gremlins later.”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his bare chest.

“Naps first,” you agree.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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sameschmidtdiffname · 4 months

Text

Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

•《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark smut #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark #thg peeta #peeta x reader #peeta x you #peeta x y/n #peeta smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch

401 notes · View notes

stargirl-writes · 7 months

Text

denial

pairing : force healer jedi! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 1.5k

masterlist

summary

anakin skywalker confessed his love for you. except, you turned him down, reminding yourself of your duty to the jedi. weeks would have passed and you're reaching a breaking point where you can no longer deny how you felt about him.

tags : angst, mutual pining, fluff towards the end,

warnings : pretty much just denial of how reader feels, and angst with a happy ending (!)

notes : hi lovely people! this is the first thing i'll post under this blog! thank u for taking interest in my little imagine, i hope you like it!

likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated !

It has been a few weeks since Anakin Skywalker told you he loved you. For a moment, the cruelest thing to do seemed like the sweetest thing he could say.

For you both know that the Jedi Council will forbid you to delight in this feeling.

No attachments, live to serve the good, clear lines. No devotions.

You didn't understand how loving someone can be so corrupting, after all, the Jedi Code taught you compassion for all things. That in itself is an act of love. Living so detached from things just makes it all feel... meaningless.

Why hurt for love? Why hurt for not loving?

But now, ever since Anakin told you he wanted you, you are held by a ravenous grip that left you feeling breathless. Suffocated.

Because the truth was simple: You wanted to hoard Anakin in your heart and keep him there. You wanted Anakin.

Of course, you didn't mean it. Anakin Skywalker is the only one who truly knew you. He shredded down your walls to find you where you're most vulnerable and loved you anyway. He wasn't scared of the things about you he didn't understand. Things you, too, find difficult to accept.

But caught by the abruptness, you could only tell him "We can't" before storming out of the room that one night.

You were perplexed, because for the longest time you have resigned yourself to the idea that you were the only one feeling it.

And now he says he loves you. All along.

He loved you.

He loved you despite, despite, despite...

And you turned him down.

Because you can't....

You were bound by duty first. And your duty is to serve the Republic. You can't have Anakin, not if he is supposed to be the chosen one.

You still cried in your sleep; angry and tremendously sorry you turned the closest thing to love away.

You can't take the Republic's only chance of surviving this war. He was meant for something larger than you are. Larger than both of you. You understood this, but it didn't really make it hurt any less.

It fell into this odd... silence between both of you.

You'd catch yourself looking for him in every room you find yourself in. A force of habit. His force signature used to be a warm beacon of light to anchor you, now every time you sense Anakin, your heart aches.

Haunted by the images in your mind of what could be if you allowed him to love you. Terrified that you've allowed yourself to want to share a lifetime with him.

You can't. You wouldn't.

You shuffle in your bed, unable to find a spot so you can comfortably rest. You were becoming more frustrated, for your mind just won't turn itself off.

You grabbed your robe and pulled your hair away from your face, tying it back.

With a sigh, you sit up. It would be futile to attempt any sleep, dawn was already breaking from the windows of the Jedi Temple.

Force healing is something that not every Jedi practices, for it requires a deeper state of discipline and precision. Besides, there are medical droids that can take care of the wounded.

The council had briefed you on your mission for today, you're stationed at the med-bay to overlook the casualties after the recent attack on Kamino.

You valued healing; no matter how forgotten it may have been for the Jedi Order. So, this mission is equally important to you as fighting in the front lines.

The halls of the temple were still quiet, deep in sleep. You wander around, not really knowing where to head.

You hear a shuffle from behind, and instinctively, you turn.

You halt at a balcony— entranced by the rising sun. You breathed deep, wondering when all became so complicated.

A pair of blue eyes meet your doe-eyed gaze. You surveyed him, he looked like he just came from battle, his robes were covered in dust, and his eyes were glossy as if he had been awake for some time, too.

"Anakin" you breathed out, realizing it had been the first time you addressed him after the night he confessed.

"[Name]" He answers, sounding tired.

Your heart thumps, unsure, and half-terrified that if he calls your name again, you might fall to pieces.

"How did the mission on Kamino go?" You say, trying to find any topic other than—

Anakin steps forward, leaning against the balcony. You hold your breath. Being so close to him felt like all air vanishes.

"It went alright" Anakin answers, his gaze falling into the horizon.

Your eyes trail on his arm, noticing the dried blood, a gash maybe, you step forward, wanting to get a closer look, your healing instincts telling you something was off.

"You're hurt" You say, your hand carefully moving his robe.

Anakin sharply turns at your touch. Then his eyes bore into yours. You lifted your fingers, realizing you may have startled him.

Anakin always had you. Part of the reason you were persistent in learning healing. Because the anxiety of him hurting never settled, and you wanted to be equipped to take care of him.

"Let me do this, it won't take long" You insisted, because you knew Anakin too well, and he'd not get it checked until someone else forces him to sit down at the med-bay.

The wound started closing and after a moment, it was like it wasn't there in the first place.

Anakin nods, his eyes never leave yours.

You felt it, a ripple through the force. A very specific frequency. A jedi might mistake his hurt as that of a physical one. But you have memorized him too much to read through his pretenses.

The wounds hurt, yes. But he is carrying a lot more pain than he lets on.

So, you continued. Your fingers graze over his skin, channelling the force, willing it to heal the gash.

You withdrew your touch. The silence lingered. It's a silence that makes you feel mad, because it feels like this is how it'll always be for you and Anakin now. Delicately dancing around the elephant in the room.

The silence amplified the voice screaming in your heart.

You may as well just say it out loud because your force signature is latched with it. It involuntarily pours your heart out.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

"Anakin" you began, your lips opening and closing unable to find words to express how you felt.

He turns his head, standing straight, he had an expression you recognized. Some sort of braceness, like he was already anticipating for you to break his heart again.

"I'm sorry" was all you could say.

Even if you would've ran away with him if he asked you to.

Clear lines. No attachments. You'd cross them all if he asked you to.

This was the right thing to do, you think...

"Don't" Anakin shakes his head "Don't... I know you don't mean it" His eyes fall to his feet.

"No, I do" You answer swiftly— no longer able to deny how much it had hurted you too.

You felt tears threatening to cascade down your face. You've heard it said that love turns people soft, but you have never felt more broken now that you have loved something you can't have.

"Anakin, when I said we can't, it's because I can't take you for myself. You're meant for larger things. Only with the Jedi can you fulfill your destiny" You rambled, verbalizing the thoughts you convinced yourself to believe in at night.

Anakin's eyebrows furrowed, but you continued "It doesn't mean I didn't, that I don't—" You halted, your heart and mind tearing you apart.

"[Name]" he calls, "You are no small thing in my life" He tucks a loose strand of hair to your ear.

"I meant it when I told you I love you." His palm presses on your cheeks.

You thought you could crumble beneath his touch.

These weeks, the small amount of time you spent trying to convince yourself that his feelings will eventually pass, never faltered the way how you felt. His absence felt like half of you was missing. And now, he was here, insisting softly.

You can't hold it in anymore.

So, in the absence of words, you pressed your lips against his— slowly, gently, slipping into the intimacy you only ever shared with him.

I love you.

You say between the kisses, hoping it'd suffice for you can't quite bring yourself to say it just yet.

Nothing in the world belonged to you, just this love you were overpouring with. And this kiss— it felt like the beginning of something eternal.

Whatever that may be.

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baby-yongbok · 9 months

Text

You & Me

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, idol

✨️Masterlist✨️

Warnings: mentions of wanting to die. (It's just for a second, I swear), Themes of a breakup/ ended relationship

Word Count: 1,460

Note: As soon as I heard Miserable (You & Me) I knew that I had to write based off of the lyrics. So I wrote this in thirty minutes while on anxiety medication that makes me a zombie so I'm sorry if it sucks but I actually love it.

Summary: You and Han's last call is emotional, to say the least.

"Did you tell them yet?" You whispered into your phone receiver. Han was quiet for a second before sighing heavily.

"No… I'm not sure that I know how to. Do I just say, hey guys y/n and I broke up during rehearsal or something?" He lets out a sad chuckle and a ghost of a smile pulls at your lips.

"Just sit them down and tell them, Ji… I don't want you to go through this alone." It's quiet for a few seconds. The dim light in your room embracing you softly, mirroring how you feel inside.

"I'm not going through this alone… you're going through it too."

"You know what I mean, Ji." You sigh, shutting your eyes and leaning your head against your bed's headboard. "You know… we probably won't really talk anymore anyway so -"

"Don't say that." Han's words are rushed but you can still hear the pain behind them. "Of course we can talk."

"About what? Do you want to reminisce about all of our arguments? Or talk about the future we gave up on? Talking to you would just…" Your voice grows smaller as you process your emotions.

"Don't." Han whispers, you can imagine his pained facial expression. Eyes closed and his nose slightly scrunched as he battled his heavy thoughts.

"It would just be painful… for both of us and I don't want you to be in any more pain, Jisung."

"Then let's fix this, y/n… let's figure out the long distance."

"Ji…"

"Please, you don't understand how many times I shut my eyes and hope that when I open them that this is all a dream. For two years you have been my everything, y/n. You have been the center of everything, you are a part of my life and if I have to let you go…if I really have to let you go then I honestly rather be dead."

Tears fall down your cheeks as you bring your knees to your chest and shrink into yourself. You knew that this would be hard when you decided to break up with Han but you also knew that the long distance and constant fighting wasn't what either of you needed or wanted right now. Deep down Han knew that too, he was just too afraid to say it.

"I know that this is hard… I've cried every night since we talked about it but this just can't work… I never see you, Ji… your job is something bigger than the both of us right now and it's not anyone's fault… it's just how your life is designed and right now I don't fit here… we don't fit here." You hear Han sniffle on the other line and you swear that your heart breaks a bit more. The sound only makes your own tears fall heavier.

"Is there someone else?" His question comes out in a whisper. He didn't want to ask it but knowing him he probably couldn't go another second without a solid answer to his intrusive thoughts.

"Of course not."

"Then… then tell me you're still mine, baby, please."

"Jisung… you shouldn't call me that." You pull your lips into a thin line as you take in the silence on the other line. At this point the silence has said more than either of you for this entire conversation.

"Please." His voice is once again barely above a whisper and you bring a hand up over your heart to make sure it's still beating. You're almost positive that the amount of pain in his voice could kill you but you have to try your best to stay strong. But, even if you are staying strong you can't leave him as the only one being vulnerable here, it just wouldn't be fair.

"I think… I think that I'll always be yours, you have my heart, Ji." That was the push that broke the dam for him. You listen helplessly as he sobs into his hands on the other line. You sit quietly trying not to succumb to your heavy emotions as well. The all too familiar silence swallows you both until your emotions seem to calm down a bit and all that's left is the sound of light panting and deep breaths every now and then.

"Do you remember when I came to visit you and I took you to the carnival?" A grin tugs at your lips as you shake your head.

"Yeah, I do, we got on the Ferris wheel because you swore you could handle it but you freaked out the second we started moving." You both chuckle lightly at the memory.

"It was terrifying but… when we got to the top and I looked at you.. and I watched you marvel at the view and that smile on your face when you pointed to the sunset…" He got quiet for a second as he recalled the memory. You could imagine a ghost of a smile across his lips.

"When I saw you looking like that… looking so beautiful, so breathtaking… I wasn't scared anymore, y/n." Now it was your turn to cry. The hand that was over your heart was now over your mouth as you tried your best to muffle your sobs. You knew it was no use, you knew that Han could tell that you were crying but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to be strong for him.

"I kissed you on top of that Ferris wheel while the sun kissed the horizon and it was then that I knew that I love you."

"That was the first time you said it too." You manage to choke out through your small sobs. "I was so happy."

"I smiled for weeks after that. How could I not? You loved me.. I just.." The smile in his voice faded as reality hit him again. "I just wish that you would love me like that again."

"Han Jisung, I do love you… I love you with all of my heart but this relationship is going to hurt us way more than it is now if we don't take off our rose colored glasses and look at the reality of it all."

Han sighed in defeat, he knew you were right. The two of you weren't doing well with the distance and the dating rumors that social media constantly pushed out was not helping at all. They shipped Han with everyone they could think of which did horrible things for both your anxiety and his. You'd fight over pointless things and though you always made up you'd be fighting again a week later and it became a cycle that you two just couldn't seem to escape from. The last thing that you wanted to do was leave him but this just wasn't how your relationship was meant to go.

"You're my heart, you know? You always will be."

"You're my heart too, Ji."

"When I come to the states… Could I visit you?" He was shy to ask but he had to know if he could see you. It's all he ever wanted to do anyway, he always wanted to be around you. Hugging you, kissing you, cuddling you, and you used to love every second of it.

"You're always welcome here, Ji." You can nearly hear the smile that paints his face.

"And you're always welcome here, y/n… next time you come to Korea I'll show you all of the places I never got to show you while we were together… is that okay with you?" You smiled a sad smile 'while we were together' this is really over, huh?

"Sounds like a plan, Ji." Just as Han is about to reply you hear Changbin calling for him in the background and Han lets out a deep sigh. "Gotta go?"

"Yeah… we have promotions to do." His voice is sad again, small and distant.

"Can you promise that you'll take care of yourself, Ji… for me." Your voice is hopeful and pleading, something that Han can't seem to resist.

"For you, I'd do anything… So yeah, I promise." The silence came back to you both as you tried to figure out how to say goodbye.

"Well… I'll see you around, good luck."

"See you around, y/n.." Neither of you hung up for a couple of seconds, both wanting the other to say one last word. To hear one last breath escape their lips. Neither of you wanted to let go but you knew you had to. Just as you were about to hang up you heard Han's whispered words followed by the call ending. Tears welled up in your eyes once again as his words echoed through your head.

I love you, y/n

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cloudiewrites · 6 months

Note

Zoro dating headcanons? Maybe where they are sorta ljke the grumpy x sunshine duo?

OPLA! Zoro Dating Headcanons

Author's note: I love this request so much, I am such a sucker for the grumpy x sunshine trope! x Hope you enjoy! credit to the artwork below: "The Art of Thor: Love and Thunder"

When you and Zoro first got together, it was a surprise for everyone.

Sure, you had a crush on him since the moment you joined the crew and you have always been open about your feelings, but nobody expected for Zoro to return them back... at least not so soon.

Zoro has always been quiet and stoic man, who valued discipline, strength and peace. He is always trying his best to stay out of trouble, despite this being a nearly impossible mission with having Luffy as captain.

You, on the other hand, are loud, energetic and always causing chaos. Your curiosity and unfiltered mouth often get you in dangerous situations, from which the swordman has to get you out of.

Despite finding your reckless behaviour annoying at first, it did became the reason he fell for you. Maybe because it felt good to be your knight in shining armour who was always there to save the day or maybe because following you in your adventures made him feel as if he can see the world in a new light through your eyes... It was unclear how and why it happened, but when he fell in love, he fell hard.

Zoro is extremely protective. Maybe a little bit overbearing at times. He knows you have tendency to act before you think and your close friendship with Luffy, who was full of bad ideas, was just another reason why he always felt he had to keep an eye on you.

Despite this he is not big fan of PDA. He will stay close to you, maybe even touch your shoulder or back when no one is looking, but he won't be very affectionate, especially when they are people around.

That, of course, does not stop you from seeking to be close to him every chance you get. Jumping on his back, wrapping your arms around his neck, pepping his whole face with kisses, while he groans in annoyance, holding his hand - every time you are near him, you have to be touching him.

He likes to pretend he is irritated with your antics, but he secretly loves having you so close to him. That's why he also never pushes you away.

He is not a big sharer, but he is a good listener. He can listen to you talk for hours (which given your chatty personality is not a hard task). When you decide to ask him questions, though, expect one or two worded answers.

With that being said, you need to be patient with him. I imagine you would have some experience with love and previous relationship, but this is all new to him. Every emotion, every thought, every desire is new and he is still figuring it out how to deal with it all.

He does find comfort in the fact that you are very open and honest person. Whatever you think, you say without even processing it first. He finds this comforting, as he never has to wonder what you think or how you feel.

Your honesty does sometimes put him in uncomfortable positions though... "Damn, Zoro, you are looking so fine with these swords! I wonder if you want to show me the fourth sword in private later-" "Y/N, please, we are literally in the middle of a fight."

He does get easily embarrassed and you DO enjoy making him embarrassed. Either calling him cute nicknames or making flirty comments, you know the way to make this man's face redder than a tomato.

Despite your differences, this man would literally die for you. Everything with you is new to him and while it may sound cheesy, you do make him a better man. With you, he is exploring a softer, more gentler side, that he never even knew was there.

#opla imagine #opla zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #opla zoro x reader

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silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years

Text

and now?

and when all is said and done... what now?

summary: the one where we hope the streets of monaco won't betray them again. pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver (nicknamed fleur) word count: 6.1k warnings: google translate french, profanity, tad bit angsty and sad. depending on who you are, you may cry

note: this is it. the final chapter of this series. i hope that this provides enough closure for fleur and charles. i want to say thank you to every single person who has supported this fic and has encouraged me to continue. s/o to my ferrari antis for dealing with me and for hyping me up. truly would've never been able to finish this without them. and of course this story wouldn't be possible without my lovely 🌸 anon. luv u nonnie!!! cheers to the end of an era. cheers to charles and fleur

masterlist

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

True to his word, Charles left you alone. No calls, no surprise visits, no more waving to each other. Friends to lovers, lovers to friends, friends to strangers. But that’s what you wanted right? This is what you meant when you said you needed space and time.

It hurts you, as much as you hate to admit it. Charles’ cold demeanor hurts you, stings like you’ve never known. But you could never bring yourself to right your wrongs, to knock on Charles’ door to say that you were wrong and that you need him in your life in some capacity or another. But that felt selfish and wrong. You love Charles too much to ever treat him that way, to ever deduce him down to anything less than what he’s worth. Because he is more than your best friend, more than your first love. He is a person worth loving back with as much ferocity as his, worth all the respect a person had to offer. But you’re not sure you’re ready to give that all back to him. You didn’t want to hurt him more than you already have.

2022 was a season filled with challenges, and 2023 was no different. You were fighting tooth and nail in your baby Blue, all while watching Charles completely dominate the season. You watched from afar, every podium, every win, every struggle, and every triumph. You supported him silently, and truly you knew you could never stop. You wonder if he still did the same for you.

Monaco, a full year since you had won the race and set everything in motion. Your greatest win, and your biggest loss. Race weekend goes as it does, with media and practice all in between. You truly felt the pressure of the weekend starting to weigh you down, the judging stares wondering if you were going to pull it off like you did the year before. Your heart felt heavy as you climbed into your car as qualifying started, helmet on and hands gripping the wheel tightly.

“Okay Fleur, Tsunoda, De Vries, Stroll, and Piastri are out on the track. You’re all set to go.”

The first two rounds of qualifying fly by, you manage a P13 and P7 respectively. Now, your hands are shaking, clammy beneath your gloves as you prepare for the final round. You ask Lucas to read you the top times of Q2, and low and behold Charles topped the field.

“Just need to be ahead of the Mclarens Fluer, that’s all we ask.”

Lucas’ reminder is of no comfort, but it is what he sends you off with. By the time you make it onto the track, Carlos, Max, and Checo were zooming past you on their flying lap. You did your best to stay out of their way, moving left and right to heat up your tires while creating enough space to give yourself a good start. Nerves begin to settle deep in your gut as you approach the starting line. You inhale deeply, pushing full throttle as you speed through your flying lap. The track is engraved in your memory, you could drive the circuit with your eyes closed.

You steer, shift gears, you try to do everything correct. And at the end of it all, by some twist of fate you end up P2.

“I don’t know how the fuck you did it Fluer, but you’re P2. Charles is P1.”

You don’t hear the rest of what your team has to say to you. All the congratulatory remarks fly over your head, ears ringing as you pull in front of the number two. Your blue Alpine, splitting Charles and Max. You have to sit in your car for a moment longer, trying to calm your nerves. Slowly, you begin to climb out of your car, slipping off your headgear as you approach the two boys who were in deep conversation. You try to make yourself small as you grab your water bottle and towel, but Max is quick to come over and shake you by the shoulders.

“Look at you Flower!” Max teases, “Beat me by eight–hundredths of a second!”

Your cheeks turn red, “It’s Fleur,” is all you manage to say.

“Be careful Charles, she might come and take your title.”

You choke on the water you’re drinking. Charles smiles, avoiding your eyes, as he shakes his head at Max’s comment. You know the Dutchman meant nothing by it, the cheeky smile on his face proving he was just trying to make a joke. He didn’t know any better, didn’t understand the newer significance Monaco held for the both of you. Max walks off, leaving you and Charles to stand there awkwardly.

“Good job today,” you say.

He smiles, muttering a thank you before he turns to watch Max give his interview. He doesn’t try to talk to you, doesn’t even spare you another glance. You nibble on your bottom lip, eyes fixated on the opening of your water bottle as you try to distract from the pang in your chest. Max doesn’t take too long, and soon you are taking the mic from him to take your turn in front of the camera. It’s all a blur, just one generic question after the other. You keep your answers short and curt, and you wonder if it’s obvious you’re aching to disappear. The photo op was nothing short of awkward, with Charles hovering over your skin as he pretends to hold you close. You feel your throat tightening as you walk away, and you try to fight back the tears throughout the rest of the day.

You find yourself dreading to get into the car that Sunday. The nerves were sitting, brewing within you and you found yourself bent over the toilet just thirty minutes before you had to get into your seat.

“Fleur, if you can’t do it it’s okay. No one will be mad. Mick is on standby, ready to hop in if you need it,” Lo coos, rubbing your back.

You shake your head, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe the sides of your mouth. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, flushing the toilet and standing back up. Your reflection shows you your bloodshot eyes, tear tracks staining your cheeks, and your nose runny. You looked ridiculous. You quickly rinse out your mouth, blotting your face dry with the paper towel before returning to the garage. All eyes are on you, everyone suddenly worried and well aware of how differently you’ve been acting all week. Esteban is by your car, smiling sympathetically.

“Est-ce que ça va?” He asks, rubbing your back.

“Je vais bien.”

He bids you goodluck before returning to his side of the garage. It isn’t long until you’re driving your car around the circuit, pulling up right next to Charles in the front row. Your eyes fall shut, head resting back against your seat as you take deep breaths.

You don’t see it, the way Charles is looking over at you as he climbs out of his car. He watches the way you sit so still, so quietly in your baby Blue, he was worried you might’ve passed out. He only looks away when he sees you stir, undoing your seatbelts and removing the HANS device from around your neck. Lo is by your side immediately, coaxing you to drink water which you are quick to refuse. He wonders what’s wrong, almost tempted to walk the few short steps and ask.

It must be the nerves again, he thinks to himself. You were always one to get sick before important races, sometimes resorting to throwing up just to feel a little at ease. He wonders if you still pop Mentos in your mouth– specifically spearmint– to remove the acidic taste in your mouth. You do, his question answered when he sees Lo hand you a green cylindrical package. He nearly does it, nearly brings himself to walk over and wish you luck, but soon Max is patting his back and he realizes the anthem is about to start.

You and Charles are placed right next to each other, ahead of all the drivers, as you wait for the anthem to play. You don’t say anything to each other, don’t spare him a glance, nothing. The air is thick, awkward, as you both try to pretend that the other isn’t there. The anthem plays, and your head falls backward ever so slightly. Your eyes close and you begin to get your mind back in the proper headspace. You try to forget the nerves, to forget about the event of last year, reminding yourself that they don’t matter anymore. You try to talk yourself off a cliff you’ve made for yourself, and hope to god that you’ll come out of it alive.

The anthem ends, and the roars of the crowd begin to grow in volume. Goosebumps form on your skin at the sound of the fans chanting for you and Charles, screaming wishes of good luck and love. It fills you with courage, happiness, and almost makes you feel whole. It is only then do you look up at Charles, smile small but resilient and filled with good intentions. His eyes are curious as he stares back at you, watching to see what you were about to say next.

“Bonne route, je suis si fière de toi.” Have a good drive, I'm so proud of you.

Charles’ eyes grow wide, surprised that that was the first thing you’ve said to him since Monza the previous year. Your father’s words, an old tradition you both had packed away for nearly a year. It sparks a bit of hope in him, but he’s quick to shut it down, shaking his head. He smiles back, genuine and shy as he nods.

“Bonne chance Fleur,”Good luck Fleur. His voice is soft, clipped of any emotion. They both stand there, unsure of what to say or do next. No one moves to hug the other, no knocks on the helmet, just frozen in place. Charles finally makes the first move, nodding and turning away to move straight to his car.

You can’t help but feel slightly defeated, almost downright foolish for saying those words. You shouldn’t be surprised at his response, and you scold yourself for hoping for anything different.

You climb into your car, gear on and fingers gripping the wheel tightly. Once again it was you, your car, and the streets you call home. And just as last year, the roads you grew up on did not betray you in the slightest, and neither did it betray Charles.

“P2 Fleur! Amazing drive today, fucking phenomenal once again. The people are happy, singing!

You scream out in utter joy, rounds of thank yous to every single person on your team tumbling past your lips. Your P2 can only mean one thing and it makes your heart soar.

“Results are Leclerc P1, you P2, and Sainz P3. Again, amazing drive today Fleur. Can’t wait to celebrate tonight!”

You let out a giggle, all too giddy about the outcome of the race. You slow down slightly on your cool down lap, placing yourself only a couple of feet behind Charles’ car as you both wave to the crowds of people who screamed for the two of you. Monaco’s pride and joy, the top two finishers of the race.

By the time you park in park femme, Charles and Carlos are already being grabbed and pulled by the men in red. Your team greets you with the same enthusiasm, your smaller frame being carried left and right as they celebrate you. Just as they lower you, you spot the two Ferrari boys chatting on the side. Your feet move before your mind has time to process what you’re doing. You must’ve looked silly, helmet still on as you sprint across the way to jump on Charles. You hear his squeaky laughter, feel his hands wrap around your middle as he spins you around.

“You did it!” You shriek, squeezing him tightly.

“You did it too.” He lowers you, pulling your helmet off your head while you pull your balaclava off.

You’re beaming up at the Monegasque, panting and overwhelmed with emotion. You can see the tears brimming over his green eyes as looks down at you. Your fingers find his, squeezing lightly.

“Ils sont si fiers de toi, je le sais.” They're so proud of you, I know they are.

Charles nods, shaking tears onto his rosy cheeks. You engulf him into a hug, one he gladly accepts as he buries his face into your shoulder. The people around you scream and cheer, in awe of the emotion shared between the two of you. When he pulls away, his face is wet with tears, eyes red, but a smile on his face. He rests his forehead against your own, trying to steady his breathing. It’s as if the rest of the world didn’t matter at that moment. It’s just you and Charles.

Charles opens his mouth, about to say something, but the interviewer calling your name cuts the moment short. Charles’ hand squeezes yours before he finally pulls away and lets you go. There’s another shift in the air between you two, the happy moments you guys shared suddenly forgotten. It was as if that small, intimate moment never happened. You put on a brave face, taking the mic from Carlos and walking up to the presenter.

“Fleur, the fans are screaming for you. They’re excited, happy. How are you feeling?”

You smile, “Ah, it’s probably more so Charles than for me but… I’m so happy. This race was beyond amazing. I’m… I’m very happy.”

“Obviously, there were some intense moments between you and Charles during the race. You nearly took the lead a couple of times. Did you let Charles have this race?”

You have to suppress the scoff that wants to come up. Your lips are tight, a forced smile on them. “I’d never just give up a race, as much as I love Charles, I enjoy giving him a hard time just a little more.” you joke, “But no, I never came quite close enough to ever pass him. He’s on a different level today… What can I say, Charles is simply that great of a driver.”

There is a little more back and forth before you pass the microphone off to Charles. You lean against the door frame to the cool down room, completely enamored at the way Monaco loves him. His eyes are glowing, bright and filled with so much adoration and appreciation for the city he calls home. He looks so happy, and you can’t help but feel your heart melt for him. You only stare for a minute longer before you retreat into the building with the screams of Monaco behind you.

The celebration that night was nothing short of grand, your teams and Charles’ coming together to celebrate Monaco’s pride and joy, plus Ferrari's double podium. The club is packed with people, everyone drunk and sweaty. You spot multiple drivers on the dance floor, all too intoxicated to bother greeting you. Your team is the first to spot you, screaming your name and cheering loudly. There is a loud chorus of your name and other French gibberish as Lucas yanks you towards the table. It took three shots in a row of straight tequila for you to finally find your way out of the crowd and towards the bar. The alcohol is already in your head, the room suddenly just a little warmer, and walking kind of felt like floating.

You thought that moving to the bar meant being left alone, but really you should’ve known better. First it was Max, then Pierre, and soon after Daniel, all of them buying a round of shots and berating you until you take one (or three) with them. Now the club was hot, you were sweating, and walking felt like you were on a tightrope. In your drunken stupor, you order one Long Island Iced Tea, just one to get you through the rest of the night. You nurse your drink, sipping along as you dance your way through the crowd and towards the exit. The cool air feels like heaven against your clammy skin, wind blowing at you as you open the doors. You hold onto the wall, steadying yourself all while sipping on your drink.

“Fleur?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. Charles is looking at you from a couple feet away, eyes squinting as he tries to confirm to himself that it is in fact you. He takes slow cautious steps towards you, only speeding up when his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and can make the features on your face.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, taking the straw out of your mouth. “So good.” you slur.

He smiles. It’s a half smile, only one dimple indenting his right cheek. “What are you doing out here?”

“Need air, ‘twas hot in there.”

He hums in agreement, “Yeah… too many people in there I think.”

There is a lull between you two, with Charles leaning on the wall next to you while you nurse your drink. His eyes are focused on the sky, jaw clenching every now and again. He only shifts his focus at the sound of your incessant slurping, as you try to drink every last drop from your cup. You freeze in your spot when you feel his gaze on you, lips parting ever so slightly.

Charles is enamored by how innocent you look before him, even in your drunken state. Your eyes are slightly hooded as you stare at him, lips plump and shiny as you pull away from your straw and lick the remnants of your drink off them. He knows you’re blushing by the way your eyes dart away, and how your cheeks puff up while you try to fight an awkward smile. The kind of smile that puts your lips into a scrunched, tight line. If it weren’t so dark, he knows your cheek would be even redder than it probably already was.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, voice small and nearly drowned out by the cars driving by.

His heart skips a beat at your words. It is completely on fire at the close proximity between the two of you. When you asked for space and time all those months ago, he did his best to stay away. He avoided you as much as his job allowed him, even if it pained him to do so. He wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary. The last eight– nearly nine– months were some of the most unfulfilling times he’s ever lived. It all felt bland without you. Nothing has really ever been the same, and the longer you spend apart, the more he worries that it will always be that way. But in short, he always misses you.

“Do you miss me?” he counters, looking away and down at his black sneakers.

You choose to stay quiet, leaving the question hanging in the air. It’s thick again, thanks to the unanswered questions. Of course you missed him, but it didn’t feel right to say outside of a club while you were very drunk.

“Can we talk?” you ask, “But when I’m not drunk… I want to talk to you.”

Charles raises his brow, “Will you even remember this?”

You nod profusely, but even you doubted yourself. You hoped you would remember. Charles reaches in his back pocket, pulling out a sharpie and you can’t help but burst into a fit of drunken giggles.

“Why do you just have a sharpie?”

He looks to the marker then up at you before he smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I accidentally took it from a fan.”

This had you giggling even more, hand moving over your mouth as you tried to stop. There really wasn’t anything funny about Charles having a sharpie, truth be told if you looked in your purse you probably had one too. But the alcohol was telling you otherwise, and so now you’re standing in front of a blushing Charles, giggling like he had just told you the funniest joke ever.

“It’s not that funny Fleur.” He mumbles, a ghost of a smile beginning to form on his lips.

“But it is. You’re always so prepared somehow, it’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird.” He whines. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just you. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

The laughter dies down at your confession, the smile slowly disappearing from your face. You begin to panic, feeling as if your comment might’ve ruined the moment, or even deter him from even wanting to speak with you. But then he moves closer to you, licking his lips before pulling the cap off with his teeth. He places the cap on the end, before grabbing your arm gently and scribbling along the inside of your wrist.

“This isn’t healthy you know,” You comment, referring to the sharpie against your skin.

“Yeah and neither is this back and forth thing,” Charles mutters, retracting his touch and shutting the sharpie.

You’re about to say something but the door swings open, revealing a very drunk Mick. The boy’s face lights up when he sees you, screaming into the loud room that he found the two of you.

“C’mon, everyone has been looking for the two of you!”

Charles nods, walking towards Mick and leaving you completely dumbfounded. It takes Mick grabbing you by the arm and leading you in to finally make your way back to the party. The rest of the night is a blur, with more alcohol and even more dancing. You don’t remember exactly how you got home, but there are bits and pieces of Lo carrying you up and putting you to bed.

You wake up the next morning, head pounding and eyes burning from the sun pouring through your open window. You groan softly, turning over and trying to go back to sleep. You move in every which way, trying to get comfortable and slip back into a peaceful slumber, but your headache and turning stomach keeps you awake. You sigh, eyes opening as you turn to lay on your back. You’re about to rub your face when you see marks of black on your wrist, and you have to do a double take.

Call if you remember. CL.

You were confused, brain scrambling to remember pieces of the night where you were with Charles. You can see Mick… Max… Daniel… but no Charles. You nibble your lip, grabbing your phone to see if there were any texts from the Monegasque, or literally anyone who could explain the writing on your wrist. Much to your disappointment, the only texts on your phone are from friends and your team, congratulating you and reminding you to drink lots of water. You groan softly, sitting up and clutching your head.

You move about your day nursing your hangover. You sit on your couch, staring at the letters on your wrist over and over, just hoping that something will click. Call if you remember. Remember what? You wonder if you said something stupid, maybe pissed him off, or even worst: hurt him even further. You groan softly, falling back on your couch with your hands over your eyes. Your memories of the night are an incomplete jigsaw puzzle that you are so desperately trying to put together. The feeling of not knowing eats you alive. It makes your stomach turn, heart thumping sporadically beneath your chest.

You must’ve laid like that for another ten or so minutes before finally deciding to pick up your phone and dial Charles’ number. The phone rings thrice before he picks up.

“Hello?” His voice is rough, thick with sleep.

“Hi,” your voice is small, you wonder if he even heard you. “Did I wake you?”

He hums, “Yes. Is everything okay?”

You stare at his messy handwriting on your skin, the black ink beginning to dull. It’s just quiet breathing for a couple more seconds before you decide to speak up. “You said call if I remember… and I remember.”

You lie through your teeth, and you hope and pray you get away with it.

Charles sighs on the other end. “Okay. I don’t want to do this on the phone. Can I come see you?”

“Yes. Yes I’ll be home all day… so just let me know when you’re coming over.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

He hangs up before you get to say bye. Your hands begin to sweat, leg bouncing as the nerves begin to settle in again. You decide on a shower, hoping that it will help you feel better and clear your mind. But even after an entire routine, skincare and all, your mind was still drawing blanks. Charles’ text soon comes, letting you know he’s enroute, just two minutes away. You try to tidy up as best you can, making your bed and rearranging the throw pillow on your couch. These little things used to never matter, but now they’re the only thing keeping you together.

Three taps on the front door tell you that he’s here. You feel your nerve endings come alive, setting your skin on fire as you move closer to the door. You unlock the door, swinging it open to find Charles standing there, Monza hoodie over his head and sweatpants to match. He looks tired, his skin is dull and purple around his eyes. But even then, he smiles and mumbles a quiet hi. You step aside, allowing him to walk in. As soon as you shut your door, you’re trailing behind him all the way to the kitchen table.

It’s funny how time works, the way the universe manages to bring you back to the same spot with the same person just one year ago. You cringe at the memory of Charles begging you not to let him go, and you wonder if he remembers too. He pulls a chair back, the same one from a year ago, and he pauses for a moment. You watch as he stands there, staring down at the chair. Of course he remembers. How could he forget one of the worst days of his life?

“Do you want to go to the living room instead?” You offer meekly. He turns around, nodding, before walking towards your couch.

You sit across each other, maybe two or so feet of space between the two of you. You bring your feet up on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest as you ponder over what you should say. Charles watches you from his seat, the blank look in your eyes as you stare at seemingly nothing. He leans back into the couch, pushing the hood off his head before resting his hands on his lap. He rubs his thighs slowly, trying to keep his hands busy and his anxiety at bay.

You aren’t sure how long you both sit in silence before Charles finally says something.

“I do miss you,” His voice is barely above a whisper, a slight waver in his gentle admission. “I always do.”

Your head perks up, and like that memories of the night before come flooding back. You remember asking him if he did, if he missed you. You remember he asked you the same question back, and that you wanted to talk to him when you were no longer inebriated. You remember the way he looked at you, how good he looked under the street light.

“Why am I here Fleur?” Charles speaks up again, “Are we going to go back and forth again? Am I going to beg to be in your life, and then you’re going to push me away? Because if that’s how it’s going to go I can save you the trouble and just leave.”

You shake your head, sitting up in your place. “No. At least I don’t think so. I want to talk. I want to fix us… whatever that means.”

“What do you want it to mean?” He raises his brow.

You’re quiet again as you think about your answer. You know one thing for sure: that you wanted Charles in your life. That you didn’t want things to be awkward and to pretend like he was invisible when he clearly isn’t. You wanted the traditions, the helmet taps, and the juice boxes. You wanted it all back.

“I still have juice boxes before quali,” You say, “do you?”

Charles’ eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he still answers. “Yes?”

You smile, nodding. “I spent the last couple of months wondering how you were. Wondering if you still drank juice boxes, if you liked the coffee candies I got you in Austria. I think about whether or not you still hate ice baths or if you’re used to it by now.”

“Fleur…”

“I wondered if you still thought of me even when you pretended like I wasn’t there… if that night in Monza made you hate me. I wonder what songs you listen to before getting in the car, and if you still tap your heart two times before the lights go out.” You lean back, eyes cast on your legs as your vision blurs with tears. “Truth is Charles I haven’t really stopped thinking about you and how you’re doing.”

You turn away, looking out your glass sliding doors as you try to swipe away the stray tear that escapes your eyes. You can hear Charles move, feel his body heat as he shifts closer to you. The feeling of his thigh next to yours makes you look at him. You watch as he sticks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, pulling a balled fist and opening it in front of you to reveal two coffee candies. The same candies you sent him in Austria last year.

“I have at least one in my day, maybe two when I miss you a little more than normal. I still hate ice baths, I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it. I have a new playlist for this season… I’ll have to show you sometime. And I tap my heart three times now. One for Jules, one for papa, and one for you.” He balls his hand into a fist, holding onto the candy.

“Avoiding you… ignoring you was the only way I could give you what you asked of me Fleur. But it killed me to do that. My heart always felt so heavy, and I felt like I was winding down this hopeless road. There were moments where I felt like I was going to cave, I came close to walking over and knocking on your door. There were countless times I almost called you, just to get a moment of you. But then… I’d see you smile and I’d hear you laugh and I stop myself. You looked so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

At this point, you’re both crying. Every word that came out of Charles’ mouth set your heart on fire, released butterflies in the pit of your stomach, ignited a bit of hope in you. You look up at him, and he smiles at you with tear stained cheeks. He reaches over to you, cupping your cheek to swipe the wet from under your eyes. You lean into his touch for a moment before he retracts his hand.

“I’m so sorry Charles, for everything.” You stammer, your shaky voice betraying you. Tears fall from your eyes, and you scoff at yourself for crying once again.

Charles frowns, his hand coming to swipe the tears with his thumb. “You don’t need to be sorry. As hard as it was for me, you were right. Time away from me might’ve been good for you, as weird as it is for me to say.” You both let out a short laugh. “It was good for me too I think…. It helped me appreciate things in my life even more. And I never pretended you weren’t there. I always saw you, always heard you. Truth be told Fleur, I’ve fallen even harder for you from afar.”

Even through tears, he managed to make your heart soar. You are filled with warmth, his words sitting comfortably in your heart. It was like the air was beginning to thin out, that breathing was becoming easier with each passing second.

“I want you back in my life,” You profess, “I really do Charles. I want juice boxes before qualifying, the pre-race traditions. I want to be able to celebrate with you, and to mourn with you too. I want all the good and bad, everything in between. And I know it’s been a year, and maybe a year too late, but I want to try again.”

You finally said the words Charles longed to hear. He dreamt of his moment for the last twelve months, and yet he finds himself frozen in place. He was drawing blanks, no words in any of the four languages he knows were coming to mind. All he could do was sit there and stare.

You shift in your seat, leaning your top half back to create some distance between the two of you. “Charles?” No answer. You begin to panic, “If I’m too late then just say so.” Still no answer. “For Christ's sake Charles, say any-”

He kisses you. Charles grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours. Your hands are desperate, clutching onto his hoodie as you move your lips against his own. The kiss is passionate, messy, but filled with love. One of your hands moves from his chest to the back of his head, clutching onto his locks tightly. He kisses you like his life depends on it, like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind. Charles finally slows down, his kisses growing gentle until he stops. His green eyes search yours, looking for any sight of doubt.

“Did you get what you hoped for?” He questions softly, “Did you turn into who you wanted to be… who you hoped to be without me?”

Your forehead pressed against his as you contemplated your answer. The last year has shown you many things about you and what you needed in your life. It showed you the sweet life of independence and the tumultuous journey learning to love yourself can be. So you nod.

“Yeah. It taught me patience, that being alone is okay. But it also reminded me of how weird life is without you and no matter how far I wander off, or how much I might’ve grown, that I still wanted you by my side. It made me want more. I want more… I want to go all in. Do you?”

He nods feverishly. “A year without you made me love you more, and love who you are beyond me more than I thought I ever could. I want all of you Fleur, so long as you let me have you.”

You hold his face, kissing him again. He squeezes your sides and you finally pull away. You smile at him, thumb caressing his skin. And as you look at him, you feel yourself bloom under his gaze. His eyes twinkle when looks down at you, bright and lively like you were the sun and the stars in his sky. You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life other than this moment right now.

“I’m all yours Charles. I’ve always been yours.”

Charles engulfs you into a tight hug, squeezing you tightly and pressing a kiss to your temple. He never wanted to let you go. A year ago to the day, he sat in this apartment with his heart falling out of his chest. He spent that year trying to love you, both next to you and from afar. Charles lived in constant heartache and regret, in fear that he fucked up the only good thing in his life. And now? None of it seemed to matter. All that matters is you and him, holding each other and ready to go all in.

“Je vous aime. Et je prouverai que je le fais pour le reste de ma vie.” I love you. And I will prove that I do for the rest of my life.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

taglist: @sluts-inc @sidcrosbyspuck @miniminescapist @amsofftrack @melancholyy-scorpio @strawberrypaul @somanyfandomsbruh @allisonxf1 @ohthemisssery @molliemoo3 @idkiwantchocolatee @charles-dimple @claramllera @ellethewitchbitch @sh4wtybrave @ifancycharlesleclerc @earfquak3 @kissatelier @bisexual-desi @alwaysclassyeagle @buenadiabebeta @allforkook @ironmaiden1313 @sachaa-ff @lovingonshawn @moonyinterlude @oneoftwoghosts @llarue @home-of-disaster @gryffindorbraveatheart

and ofc, my ferrari antis: @kodzubear @meteor-lights @coffeehurricanes @bigdiccricc @micks-afterglow

#wtia #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst

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amomentsescape · 8 months

Note

Can I request jason voorhees and the going through a corn maze prompt? Like in the corn maze from the freddy vs jason movie?

Dying for Some Peace and Quiet

Jason Voorhees x Reader

Summary: Jason won't let a group of teens ruin your night in the corn maze.

Warnings: Mentions of someone dying

Word Count: 689

October 2023 Halloween Prompt List

A/N: Thank you for the request! I went ahead and rolled with the Freddy vs. Jason idea. I hope you like it! Note: I'm happy to repeat any of the prompts for different characters as well :)

Even though Halloween was around the corner, and Jason could have surely passed as "normal" looking while out, you two decided that having some time alone would be good.

To be fair, any time was alone time when it came to Jason. He wasn't exactly the biggest fan of people, so it was probably safer to find a secluded area anyways.

At least, that's what you tried to do.

You recently discovered a large, expansive cornfield nearby, and it was the perfect location for you both to truly get the Spooky Season experience.

However, you didn't realize you weren't the only one who had this idea.

You were practically buzzing from excitement. You had packed some candy to snack on and a few games to play while you hid away from the rest of the world. Plus, this would be so much better than typical corn mazes. Most tended to be made easy for little kids, and it was always filled with annoying families trying to find their way around. But this one would be peaceful and actually fun to walk through.

As you continued your way closer, your smile suddenly dropped at the booming sound coming from one side of the cornfield.

Loud music and shouting could be heard practically a mile away. You were surprised that you didn't notice it sooner. And of course it had to be a large group of rambunctious teenagers in the center of it all.

You wanted to cry at this. You hadn't gotten to truly celebrate the fall season so far, and this was your one opportunity to have quality time with Jason. You had literally been looking forward to this night for weeks, and now it was being ruined by teens trying to get laid or black out from all the alcohol.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Jason could barely hear you over how softly you spoke. He just tilted his head in response.

"You never really got to experience a fun Halloween. I wanted this to be special, but of course my luck had to ruin everything."

You looked at the ground and kicked the dirt around with your shoe.

"We should probably just go home."

You turned around and started walking back where you came, only to hear Jason's footsteps heading in the other direction.

"Jason?" you spun back around.

You could see him hiking through the cornfield, making his way towards the partygoers.

You weren't exactly sure what to do then, eventually deciding to just stay where you were.

A few moments passed before screams began to erupt from the teens. You could catch glimpses of their running forms in between the corn stalks.

You finally found your footing as you jogged into the field in hopes of finding Jason. He could clearly handle himself, but you still worried that some victim would find a way to fight back.

You called out for him a few times before finding him seated on some makeshift chair, a dead body only a few meters away.

When he noticed you, he perked up a bit and raised a can of soda to you, offering the drink casually.

You couldn't fight the smile that spread on your face.

"Thank you," you murmured, accepting the can.

You cracked it open and sat in the empty chair next to him, taking another peak at the body.

You glanced back over to the slasher and he just shrugged as if to say "it worked, didn't it?"

You sighed and took a drink of the soda while you dug out some of the candy you brought.

You both sat like this for a while, just enjoying each other's companying and the Halloween treats before he suddenly stood up, looking down at you.

"Hm?" you hummed.

Without any hesitation, he poked you in the arm and made a quick dash in the corn, his figure quickly being swallowed up by the maze.

"Hey!" you called out. "That's not fair- you got a head start!"

And with that, you chased him into the corn maze. There was no way you were going to lose another game of tag.

#slashers x reader #slasher fandom #slasher preference #slashers preference #slashers #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #freddy vs jason #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #halloween #fall

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lemmeurs · 3 months

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okay. here is my 1600+ words essay on raphael. if anyone would like to adress anything from it, please do but keep it civil! i am so damn invested in this topic, i wanna hear everyone's thoughts

raphael rant

(DISCLAIMER: this essay was not written in order to justify Raphael as a character or any of his actions or intentions. i am completely skipping any point of morality, whether my own or just in general, i simply wanted to somehow try and write my feelings and thoughts down while looking at the whole thing from an objective point of view, analyzing the design of the game, the plotline and his whole persona and just.. idk i wanted to see whether anyone else felt the way i do because i have been going INSANE over this for the past few days)

hi. i have come here today to express my thoughts and feelings on Raphael the cambion and "his final act". this is being randomly and spontaneously written in my notes app so please excuse the absolute chaos that this essay will be (no i won't be rereading it, fuck it we ball) (CONTAINS BG3 ACT III SPOILERS!!)

first of all — i am so beyond devastated that he gets killed. and not just by anyone, he gets killed BY US. THE PLAYER. WE AS THE PLAYER DELIVER THE FINAL BLOW THAT ENDS HIS EXISTENCE. not only is that very upsetting (because come on, hot devil man, obviously i don't wanna kill him??) but it also makes me feel so.. awful. like, everything about this is wrong and i hate the fact that there is no other option.

because let's review the course of the story in the house of hope:

- we barge into his house unannounced, uninvited, while he is absent

- we invade his privacy by entering what's his own personal space (yes, i know he stole it from Hope in the first place but that is not the point here — whatever his devil business is, it's still HIS, you know?? like he is a devil, this is the kinda stuff they do and honestly? i didn't want to stick my nose into it. but obviously i did because tHe sToRy etc etc. but still, it was his own thing that basically doesn't affect the player in any way so TECHNICALLY you dont have to free Hope. you can, if your character's moral compass advises so, but it doesn't affect the main plot.)

- we then proceed to walk around his house freely, lie to his archivist in order to look at the stuff we're already planning to steal

- we meet his personal incubus whom then we have the chance to either use or kill (i fought Haarlep so that's the point of view i'm looking from at this here, in which case i also robbed their corpse) and we rob his safe. and his whole bedroom actually. we read his journals. we use his bath.

- then obviously we go and rob his entire archive which includes all of his most precious possessions

- upon stealing, we slaughter every single creature in his house, fighting our way through to get to Hope's prison

- we then kill the two spectators he has guarding her (they were probably super hard to obtain??) and we just. free his prisoner. because yeah, that is the right thing to do, IM NOT SAYING THAT'S WRONG, but let's say we skip morality for a second, let's just focus on the fact that we have no ulterior motives in freeing Hope. we just wanna mess with HIS business because why not since we're already ruining all of his plans.

- and then we have the audacity to try to leave before he comes back and act like we were never there while his entire house is turned to shit.

now let's look at this list again but this time keep in mind the fact that at that point, he hasn't done A SINGLE THING to us. like, he has never harmed us, he treated us with (let's call it) "respect" and politeness, he was fine with our hesitation towards his deal and was willing to give us time. he was never aggressive towards us, he was never "the enemy".

and now you can say - okay wtf is wrong with you, that man literally admitted his intention of conquering the worlds, enslaving all mortals and basically becoming the tyrant of all while also most likely stealing everyone's souls for his own pleasure.

yes, he did, and yes, that's bad. but just because those were his intentions does not give us the right to do all that shit to him AND THEN KILL HIM. AS IF WE HAD THE RIGHT TO SERVE JUSTICE HERE?? YEAH HIS PLANS ARE EVIL BUT IT IS NOT UP TO US TO DICTATE HIS CONSEQUENCES. HIS PLANS WOULD ONLY SUCCEED IF WE GAVE HIM THE CROWN IN THE END, SO JUST- DON'T?? LIKE DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN. IM NOT TRYING TO JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS OR INTENTIONS, BY ALL MEANS. i'm just trying to express how weird this all made me feel because not everyone decides to play as the selfless, lawfully good hero of all, protecting the world from all evil, ever! this is roleplay, afterall!

and them obviously he comes home. he is furious, as he should be. but mostly he's betrayed because, as weird as it may be, he trusted us. he admitted to growing "quite fond of us, in his own way". he thought we were some weird sort of.. acquaintances? friends maybe? (again, i know most of our relationship with him is mostly just him manipulating us but still, it's quite clear he wasn't expecting this betrayal) and we just barged in there and disrespected him in the worst way possible. so obviously he wants to kill us now and obviously we can kill him since he's just a boss in a game. and that's what we do. and then.. that's it. we're the good guys. we ruined a man's whole career because we needed one of his toys, murdered him in his own house and just left. and we're supposed to be the good guys.

i think the source of my problem is that Raphael is never introduced as evil. we don't meet him as the big bad villain that we know we'll have to kill at some point. i swear to god, at the beginning of act 3 i trusted that man way more than i trusted the Emperor and i was so close to agreeing to his deal just because i felt like i could trust him and he would keep me safe (for some reason, let's blame it on those wonderful eyes of his).

we meet him so early on in the game and he follows through all 3 acts, making it feel like he's gonna be some key character that will matter in the end - turns out, no! we were just supposed to rob and kill him. and that's literally it. talk about wasted potential.

when i first met him i got the "unofficial narrator" vibes from him, as if he was only supposed to seem intimidating and "evil" but you could sense there was so much more to him and i was dying to see how his story would unwrap. i was so ready for a redemption act, a plot twist, anything. man was i disappointed. because how cool would it be if he turned out to be a part of the "gather your allies" quest?? imagine having him as an ally and an ACTUAL friend in the end??

and don't even GET ME STARTED on what the orb in Helsik's shop shows you after you kill him. the fact that he's not even dead yet but ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED BY MEPHISTOPHELES. ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED. BY HIS FATHER. HE. WHAT. THATS THE ENDING HE GETS. and we are the ones that served it to him when he got RIGHTFULLY pissed at us for doing all that shit to him. and im supposed to just be fine with it?? i'm supposed to feel like this was the ending he deserved and i did the right thing??

god what i would give for a different way. idk. striking a new deal with him. saving him from Mephistopheles afterwards. REDEMPTION ARC?? ANYTHING?? NO? THATS IT THEN?

now i know that you dont HAVE to kill him, you can either agree to his deal or just ignore him and the house of hope altogether. but that just defeats the whole purpose of this character?? agreeing to his deal and giving him the crown at the end results in a pretty bad ending and ignoring him means that yeah, you don't have to kill him but you also don't get anything else from him anymore. like he has no other endings, just either death or his big evil plans. and for a game with so many choices and so much branching, it just feels almost weird that that's all he is there for. then why do we meet him in act 1? why does he follow through to act 2? (yeah, astarion, i know, but i cant help but feel like they could have put a completely different way to read his runes there if they didnt want Raphael specifically to help us) WHY ARE WE ALREADY SO USED TO HIM BY THE TIME HE PRESENTS HIS DEAL? if the whole hammer business is the only thing he's in the game for, then we may have as well been introduced to him only in act 3 during the whole Voss quest. but we knew him already and he felt like some sort of a.. friend lets call it? idk. this just does not make sense to me and makes me genuinely so sad.

as i'm writing this, it's the third day after ive completed the house of hope and i literally can not think about anything else. like my mind is just going on and on about this and i cant get over it!! im actually GRIEVING a fictional devil and i dont know what to do with all these.. thoughts.

so now i actually genuinely MISS THAT MF. I MISS HIM. GIVE HIM BACK. I WASN'T DONE AND NEITHER WAS HE. PLEASE PLEASE LARIAN I CAN FIX HIM—

okay i think thats it for now. idk i wrote this so chaotically i already forgot what i said and didnt say. im just. im feeling so many things. im so fucking sad and mad that this is how it ends. rest in peace hot devil man i will never forget you.

#bg3 act 3 spoilers #bg3 raphael #bg3 spoilers #raphael the cambion #raphael #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 act 3 #larian studios #bg3 essay #baldur's gate iii #bg3 discussion

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months

Text

Let's Talk About That Chapter 6

Psychiatrist!Avenger!fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warning: Not much. We're at the point of the Civil War fight happening. Lots of hurt and angst.

A/N: Good luck everyone I wanted to cry writing this. 🫠😢

May 24th 2016

The clash of the Avengers. Though you had been by Natasha's side the past few days. Clint came looking for you. Telling you to head to Germany. Steve would be waiting. You left a small note for Tasha, kissing her temple. She was in a deep sleep only because she felt safe with you. Normally any movement would have roused her.

You make it to Germany, hugging Steve. You picked him up and when you set him down he did the same back. "I didn't want to leave her...I know she's going to be pissed." You confess to him. He lets out a sigh, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"She was holding you there. Tony was doing the same thing to Wanda. He was keeping her trapped in the compound with Vision watching over her. Clint's on his way right now with her and a new friend, Scott, he goes by Ant-man." He tells you. Of course that's all it was. Tasha didn't need you. She never needed a bodyguard…she's a black widow assassin for God sakes. How could you be so blind.

"I can't wait to see her." You must be smiling like an idiot because Steve laughs.

"Alright lets go over our plans while we have some time." He tells you, Sam, and Bucky.

When Clint arrives you hug Wanda tightly and she does hug you back, but it doesn't feel the same. "Are you okay sweetie?" You ask, cupping her cheek.

"Yeah just concentrating. Getting ready to fight people we used to call friends and allies. Sorry I'm not in a lovey mood." She barks. You take a step back. Trying to read her emotions and aura. "Stop reading me." You blink and the colors you barely got to figure out dissipate.

"Fine." You stalk off going to change into your uniform. A blue sleeveless skin tight suit, gloves that go up to your biceps and your stone out and able to 'breathe' you switch out your glasses for contacts that unfortunately Tony made you that show you statistics and a bunch of information if you ask FRIDAY about it. You take a deep breath. The weight of it all hitting you, though you knew you needed to keep your emotions in check.

"Everything okay?" You hear Steve ask.

"Something's wrong...or off with Wanda...She doesn't want me reading her emotions. I'm worried that maybe..." you can't even say it out loud as Steve comes and hugs you. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over at the mere thought of not having her by your side.

"Y/N you're still so young. I know it's hard, but even if she isn't the one. It's going to be okay. No matter what. You'll make it through it." He reassures you. You felt like Steve could understand, he just lost Peggy and he's had to live with the fact that he can never be with the love of his life. You feel the tears fall as Steve hugs you once more.

“You'll make it through it. You're tough.” He reassures once more and you sniffle. You wipe the tears away and put up a Steele resolve. Steve was right. You were tough. This wouldn't kill you. No matter the outcome you couldn't let it kill you.

As everyone prepared for battle and got in place. Steve would go out on his own while the rest of you flanked around. Steve hoped he could just talk Tony down, but Tony practically came out swinging as he tended to do. Words fell on deaf ears as the battle started. You threw yourself into the battle, going after Vision and letting your anger rage out. Matching pace with him as you landed punch after punch. The synthezoid showed no signs of damage even after a hammer fist sent him flying into a crater in the ground.

“Why won't you just stay down!” You yelled before being grabbed by red tendrils on magic and flung into the side of a plane leaving a crater of your own.

“Why don't you!?” You heard Wanda yell a venom in her voice you'd never once had directed at you. You faltered for a moment before pushing yourself off the plane with enough force to push it onto its side.

“I gave you everything and this is how you repay me!?” You asked, going toe to toe with someone who was supposed to be your girlfriend, your friend, your ally. As you raise your fist to her you hesitate. You remember the moment you met her. When Tasha brought her to you. You remember how she melted against you with that first hug. You put your fist down. “I could never use my power on you.” you seethe at her as her face twists in a mix of shock and realization that she had hurt you, had sent you flying with her magic for fighting Vision who was our enemy right now.

Before anymore words can be exchanged you feel a sharp pain in your back as you fall to the ground. Vision had hit you with the only thing that could physically hurt you. His powers from the mind stone. Your own stone short circuiting from the power as you lay there motionless other than the occasional involuntary twitch.

As the battle unfolded, the fractures within the Avengers became glaringly apparent. Friendships strained, alliances shattered – it was a heartbreaking spectacle that left you grappling with conflicting emotions. The internal turmoil mirrored the external chaos, and your thoughts inevitably circled back to Wanda.

Engaged in the clash now with some Spider kid, you couldn't help but steal glances at her, attempting to gauge her emotions from a distance. The connection that had once felt so profound now seemed elusive, and the dissonance weighed heavily on your heart.

When the dust settled, and the repercussions of your choices became evident, you couldn't shake the feeling that the path ahead held even greater challenges. The division among you, the fractures in relationships, and the uncertainty about Wanda's feelings all loomed over you, casting a shadow on what had once felt like an unbreakable bond.

The clash of the Avengers had left scars, both visible and unseen, and you knew that healing would be a complex journey fraught with challenges. Yet, with the resilience born from shared hardships, you clung to the hope that you could find a way to mend what had been broken and emerge stronger on the other side.

Steve and Bucky managed to get away thanks to Natasha and you tried following her, but she ran off with nothing, but the promise that you'd see her soon and a kiss on the top of your head. She also used the electric shock device on you and all you wanted to do was cry as she left you there writhing in pain and left to deal with too many emotions on your own as waves of purple magic came off of you until the Earth gave out beneath you. You now lay in a deep crater of your own making.

You'd rather die than lose both the women you care about. Yet, here you are, still breathing. Though you were breathing you didn't feel alive anymore.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff angst #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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poptimus-prime · 4 months

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Here's my piece for the To Be Gentle Zine hosted by @allsparkzines! It features TFP Optimus and the human kiddos meeting a rather prickly little critter.

I did my best and that's what matters.

Title: Nature Walk

Word Count: 950

It was a warm evening in early summer, and Optimus was grateful for a wave of peace. He continued on, making sure the children were still nearby. They were scaling the hills beside him as he walked, the slope not too steep and eventually leaving them at around eye level to him.

He smiled to himself as he watched them all chatter among themselves, and how Jack and Miko would walk slowly to allow Raf to keep up on his little legs. Something about the mundane nature on Earth spoke to his spark; it refreshed him and made him more resolute to fight for it.

He wished it didn’t take the war to get here, but he wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.

He pauses to take a look at some flowers on a tree, slightly wilted as they prepare to become fruits. He finds himself fixated on the mottled pink petals that are now dry and wrinkled, and he wishes his hands weren't so big that it would be nearly impossible to touch them.

“Hey, Optimus, check this out.” Jack interrupted his train of thought. He looked over to see the teen pointing at a tree in the near distance, though upon further inspection it was clear that he wanted Optimus to see the bird perched on one of its strong branches. It cawed out loudly, flapping its wings to resettle.

It was a beautiful bird, Optimus thought, noting its striking burnt orange tail. He racked his memory for the name of this bird, this hawk more specifically.

“I believe this one is called a red-tailed hawk.” He responded with a small smile, watching Miko take pictures on her phone. “Though, it seems to be a bit of a misnomer, because I have never seen one with a truly red tail.

“Seems pretty red to me.” Miko hummed out her observation.

“You’ve seen lots of them?” Raf asked Optimus with wide eyes, flapping his hand a little.

“Of course, I frequently come out to this part of this landmass. This is where many of them live.” Optimus explained. “I haven’t seen many of them in Jasper.”

“Yeah, they don’t live out there.” Raf sighed. “Unless the zoo counts.”

“I understand.”

Optimus and the children continued on, talking about the various animals Optimus had run into—polar bears and penguins, tigers and elephants, and his favorite—the moose.

“I hope we’ll see a moose.” Miko said to Optimus. “I heard they’re so big and kinda epic.”

“I believe we are a little too far south to see a moose.” Optimus admitted. “But we will see.”

“Why is that your favorite animal?” Jack asked, more curious than anything else.

“…I’ve never really stopped to think about that.” Optimus admitted. “Do I really need a justification for why?”

“No, not really.” The teen answered back. “People just have different reasons for how they define a favorite animal. Sometimes that’s interesting to hear about.”

“Hm…” Optimus thought hard as they walked. He remained quiet for a few minutes before speaking again. “I suppose I appreciate how protective they are of their offspring.”

“You would say something like that.” Miko snorted a little, delighted in how much of a softie this giant robot was.

“Well, it's the truth.” Optimus insisted, pausing as he heard the rustle of the bush nearby. His audials slowly turned back, almost apprehensive. The children took note, barely peeking out from the edge of his shoulder as he stood in front of them.

After a painful minute of rustling, interspersed with yowling, a small bobcat ran from the brush, many quills sticking out from it. Optimus almost went after it, but by the time he registered the quills, it was already gone.

“Poor thing…” He laments, guilty that he couldn't have helped the cat.

“He'll be fine later.” Jack assured Optimus, patting his plating. “He probably won't tangle with whatever got him again.”

“Was it a hedgehog? Do you think a hedgehog is nearby?” Miko asked, very pleased at the thought. “I didn't know there would be hedgehogs here!”

“Hedgehogs don't live here, Miko.” Raf informed, a little disappointed at the fact.

“Another quilled creature does, however.” Optimus turned his head to them and brought his finger to his lips. The children obeyed, quiet and still. Optimus could feel tension build in his frame as he held still, waiting.

A rather frumpy looking creature covered with the same quills that cursed the bobcat emerged from the same bush, making its way to a nearby tree. It sniffed in Optimus and the children's general direction, and then began to scale the tree.

Miko in particular was transfixed, watching as the animal shimmied up the tree, using its tail as almost a fifth limb. She had her phone out to record video, but she found herself…not doing that.

“What a rare sight.” Optimus’ voice curled lightly under his smile. “A North American porcupine. I have heard that most humans who go out of their way looking for one never find one.”

“And we got to see one without even trying.” Jack caught on to what Optimus was implying, a smile on his face.

“It's so cute!” Miko giggled. “I wanna hug it.”

“I wouldn't. Didn't you see what it did to that bobcat?” Raf cringed a tiny bit.

“Right.” She sighed. “That would hurt.”

Optimus couldn't help but allow a chuckle to bark out of the back of his throat. Of all the things he found curious about humanity, the fact that they could look at dangerous animals and want to hug them was rather amusing.

Though, he questioned how dangerous a porcupine actually was. Perhaps he would have to do more reading later.

#tfp optimus prime #to be gentle zine

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whateversawesome · 1 year

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Foreshadowing Spy x Family

Come on, you probably noticed it too...this newest chapter (ch. 79) was totally about foreshadowing 😎

What kind of foreshadowing? Well this of course...

Yes, Endo is probably messing with us, but l also think there may be a chance of a confrontation between Twilight and Yor once they learn their real identities. My guess is that it will depend on how the identity reveal happens and all the context behind that situation.

For Yor to actually think about killing Twilight (without being drunk) it would take a lot. And I doubt it'll be just so nobody discovers she's a killer. Yor is a protector; she doesn't kill for fun or even political conviction. She kills to protect her loved ones.

The only way I see her wanting to kill Twilight is if she thinks he is dangerous for the people she loves...the only problem with this is that Twilight is one of those people too.

So, here's my theory on what could happen...

Let's leave the identity reveal aside for a second (because I still don't know how that's going to happen) and go straight to the confrontation.

Maybe the Shopkeeper tells Thorn Princess her husband is a traitorous scum who endangers Ostania (and the people she loves) and orders her to kill Twilight. Yor is used to following orders blindly, so she knows she has to do it.

They're finally face to face. They both know what they are, they both know they must fight each other. Note: I'm not sure if Twilight would try to resolve the conflict between husband and wife peacefully...knowing him, he probably would. And maybe that's what makes Yor stop for a second...

Even though he's a spy and Loid is not even his real name, Yor knows him. By this time, they have been living together for (I'm guessing) at least a year and he's done so much for her, she's used to him, she likes his company, and all the moments they spent together as a family are precious to her.

Honestly, I hope that by this time, Yor's character is ready to hit one of the biggest milestones: for her to make a decision on her own. This means, Yor has to decide to go against orders and not fight her husband.

Guys, I honestly doubt there will be a physical confrontation.

(And if there is one, it won't last long).

Instead of fighting, I think this is the moment when they're going to finally kiss for the first time.

As the story moves forward, there will be plenty of other moments when those two will almost kiss. Why? Well, I've noticed that the lines between lies and reality of their marriage are starting to blur. Why is Twilight doing all this to make her happy (the signature move of a man in love)? Why does he refers to Yor as his partner? Why does he say 'we' when they talk to Anya?

Has he forgotten this isn't a real marriage? I think part of him is starting to believe he really is married to Yor.

And Yor...why did she think he would give her a welcome home kiss? Yeah, given that she was drunk, but it was definitely in her thoughts. I think Yor really thinks of Loid as her husband.

Because of this, they're going to be close to that first kiss plenty of times, but after this chapter, my guess is that it won't happen until they know about their identities.

Tell me what you think!

#spyxfamily #spy x family #spy x family manga #spy x family theory #twiyor #loidyor #loidxyor #agent twilight #thorn princess #loid forger #yor forger

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noideawhatshappenin · 18 days

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I need to rant about a few things from Bad Batch so

SPOILERS AHEAD

I'm writing this based on memories right after my first watch because my emotions are overwhelming me and I need to rant about them to strangers on the Internet. They're also not in any chronological or logical order.

First off, Echo telling Emerie that he knew the Zillo was Omegas doing? Because he would have done the same?

Immaculate. Fives would be proud to see his brother still being up to dangerous shit. And even passing it along to his little sister/daughter.

On the same note, the Zillo breaks out and the boys outside immediately know it's not coincidence because of course it would be one of their genius madlads.

Crosshair: Was that Echo or Omega.

Wrecker and Hunter without missing a beat: Omega

Because of course it was her.

Then Crosshair saying Clone Force 99 died with Tech had me crying buckets. Baby really has lost all feeling of self worth and needs time to heal on Pabu. Poor boy. Probably feels hella responsible for his death, too, because he wasn't there to help them.

Next up, Hemlock's operatives? You cannot tell me that they're not reminiscent of the Clone Force 99 we saw in Clone Wars. Using debris as a shield, like the first plan we see them do? One fighting with knives, like Hunter? One having a rifle, like Crosshair? Hemlock saw the boys and said: damn I want that as well.

It also explains why many people (me included) hoped for the reveal of Tech being CX-2. They're meant to seem like the Batch.

Also I really hoped Scorch would somehow survive this, just because I'm currently replaying Commando and feel for my poor boy.

Then I think a lot of us remember the meme with the explosion? Absolutely adore, that it was Nala Se blowing the research and Rampart to pieces.

Don't get me wrong, Rampart was a great addition to the recent episodes and his screams had me dying with laughter, but he was an evil piece of shit till the end. He died as a selfish evil Empire guy instead of dying for redemption (like there is a tendency in Star Wars) or getting to live on without any change. He stayed an asshole, even if he was kinda funny in the end.

Now to get into some specifics about the ending and the fate for the boys.

The cut to black when one of the operatives threatened Crosshairs hand? I nearly shat myself, holy hell. What the actual fuck.

The constant pan to Wrecker being injured? I was fully expecting him to sacrifice himself in the end, very glad he didn't.

The scene in the rain on the bridge? Immaculate. The perfect climax to the show. Perfection.

Hemlock's threat being empty, because he needs Omega.

Crosshair still worried because, even if Hemlock won't shoot Omega, his trauma won't just go away and he cannot risk Omega getting hurt.

Omega realising Crosshairs struggle and helping out.

Hunter realising that Omega realised.

Crosshair getting the first hug.

And then we see them leave. Safely. Because it's over. Their fight is over. Bad Batch is over.

Seeing all the clones and children happy on Pabu was the kind of ending the show deserved.

I'd go so far as to call it the ending the show needed. Because the Bad Batch would never have stopped fighting, if there was still danger threatening one of their members. Omega wouldn't have stopped fighting if she had lost another one of her brothers or hadn't been able to free the other clones.

The only way for them to find peace in that world, was a happy end. And I think that's beautiful.

In fact, this leads right into my final thoughts on this. Omega leaving to fight for the rebellion is very on brand for her selfless nature. It's also why this has to happen in the future. The Bad Batch had done their duty. They had fought enough battles for their lifetime, which is why we don't see them joining the rebellion with her. Why it has to happen, when Omega is ready to leave on her own.

Then of course, I cried buckets for Tech's glasses on the dashboard. Because her following in his footsteps and becoming a pilot makes this story come full circle.

Sidenote, I'm pretty sure her hairstyle is, at the very least, inspired by Phee. And her flying is probably closer to Phee than Tech as well, because she is still a chaos child.

Perhaps we'll see more shows from this time. We're certainly still lacking important info.

How does Wolffe join his brothers?

Why are Gregor, Wolffe and Rex "retired" in Rebels?

What happens to Echo?

I imagine, Filoni will give us a Clone Rebellion show (possibly with a sadder ending than Bad Batch) to answer these questions.

Do I have a closing thought? Yes.

As nice as the final scene was, we were absolutely robbed of older Crosshair and Wrecker. ROBBED I SAY.

#tbb spoilers #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb 3 #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb omega

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bhaalbaaby · 9 months

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Title: genesis (3532 words) Pairing: astarion/tav Warnings: nsfw, fluff and smut A/N: more from astarion's pov lol ♥ very intimate; part three for moonlight on the river

Read on AO3!

Sarnarei glares at the Candulhallow's Tombstone, arms crossed. They spent fifteen minutes tearing the empty shop apart looking for the evidence for the murders. Karlach yawns as she checks the desk for the fifth time.

"Do you still have the journal from Dolor?" Shadowheart asks Sarnarei, stress lining her face. "I do, but I left it in my trunk."

"I suggest we go back and read it. There may be a key hidden there. Or at least a clue." Shadowheart replies, heading to the front of the building. Karlach follows, nodding. "Plus we can take a little break. It is getting a little late, soldier."

Sarnarei looks over at Astarion who waves his hand flippantly, "We can fight the big bad Bhaal once we're more rested." She grimaces but follows their party out.

As soon as they arrive, she tears through the chest, pulling out all the journals and tatted notes she saved looking for any sign. Astarion rests on the bed next to it watching as their merry party speaks to each other, waiting.

"I still want to at least figure out how to enter. We can go out for a moment. Whatever rests there, we won't fight tonight." Sarnarei says softly, mostly to herself.

"Do we have to go back out? I think we're all pretty exhausted." Astarion whispers, his eyes drinking in her dress, the way her hair falls in front of her face. He loves how determined she is. He holds himself back, wanting to kiss her and maybe more. She hasn't done anything different and yet...

She glances up at him, tilting her head to the side, not picking up on his cue. "Are you sure?"

He smirks, how adorable is she when she's clueless? His eyes flick up to Wyll who passes by as he nods, "Exhausted. So tired." He says it louder than necessary so the horned man could hear. Wyll turns, raising his eyebrow as he glances at Astarion. The vampire cuts his eyes to Sarnarei and then back to Wyll, hoping his silent pleas would be understood.

Wyll nods, a cheeky smile coming to his lips as he yawns so loudly, "I'm ready to turn in for the evening. How about you, Shadowheart? Halsin?" Astarion glares at the Warlock's back at the mention of Halsin. He didn't mind sharing her with him, especially when they weren't physical. The idea still doesn't bother him, at least he thinks. The two of them didn't spend that much time together from what he noticed anyway. When they did speak, they weren't physical. Maybe they broke up and she didn't tell him.

"Hmm, I could rest for the night," Halsin says, coming over to Sarnarei's side. "Is everything alright, my heart?" My heart.

Astarion keeps up his smirk, his mind racing with the possibilities in case Halsin chooses to stay.

She nods, turning to him, "Yeah, I found what I needed, but I don't want to overburden you all." She says sweetly, closing the trunk.

"Of course." He glances over at Astarion, "How are you handling everything?" He asks, his voice full of concern.

"Better. Thank you, Halsin." He gives him a curt nod. The druid raises his eyebrow, a compassionate smile on his lips. "I think we're going to go take Lakrissa up on her offer. Have a night to just relax while we can."

Karlach appears out of nowhere her vibrant smile brightening up the room as she wraps her arm around Halsin. "Fuck yes. Let's go! I hear they have a super funny comedian on tonight. I want to laugh my stomach bursts." She shoots a look at Shadowheart, "You can heal that, right?"

The cleric smirks as she rolls her eyes, "I would prefer it not come to that, but I will do my best." The rest of the crew filter out, Halsin being the last.

"Don't keep her too long, Astarion." He teases, winking as he closes the door.

He takes a deep breath as he returns to Sarnarei, who stands at her entrance a bit bewildered. "Alone with a bed." He says, ignoring her suspicion as he sits back down. He's bedded thousands, but the thought of being intimate with her makes him so anxious. Her confusion leaves as she sits next to him, concern taking over.

"I would like a night of passion with you, Sarnarei. If I can't handle it, I'll let you know so we can stop. I know that look in your eyes. You don't want me to feel distressed and we've been going slow, but I don't want to wait any longer. I think I'm ready." He states, taking her hands into his own.

She licks her lips, glancing up at him. "If you feel uneasy at any point, we will stop." She replies, moving closer. She misses him, misses his body against her own, but holds him in such regard. It would hurt her to the core if she did anything and he just went along with it to make her happy.

He nods, leaning forward, and kissing her slowly. He sucks on her bottom lip, dragging his teeth carefully along it. He leans her against the pillows, not breaking their kiss. She moans softly as her arms wrap around his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist. He pulls away, gazing upon his lover. She searches his face as her hands go to his ornate jacket, pulling at the buttons.

"I love you," He whispers as he shrugs the jacket off, letting it fall off the bed. His hand slips between her thighs, his fingers gently gliding along her pelvis over her pants.

"I love you too," She whispers back, rocking her hips against his touch. She slips her hand down along his pants where his cock stands half hard. He shudders at her touch, focusing on finding her pants, and dragging them off.

Her hands return to her body, fiddling with the corset top. His eyes stay glued to her chest, watching as they fall from the lack of support. He swallows hard as he leans down, replacing her hands with his own as he undoes her corset, taking the pretty and sturdy fabric from her torso, and adding it to their clothing pile. She whimpers as his kisses return to her neck and collarbone, his talented fingers massaging her chest through her beige sleep top. She closes her eyes as he runs his fingers along her top.

"Can I please you first?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion pauses in between his kisses, raising his eyebrow. "Please me first?"

She nods as she sits up, her hand returning to his hardening cock. "You always please me first. I want to make sure you're sated." She explains, tracing her fingers up to his loosened frilly shirt, dragging it over his body. He nods after a moment, considering. The worst thing is that he could disassociate, but Sarnarei's attention and focus are so acute on him, that she would notice and stop in her tracks. He feels like a burden as he rests on the other side of the daybed. "Tell me to stop if you don't like it." She whispers, helping him out of his trousers. He gives another nod as she pecks him quickly, her soft body caressing his.

"My sweet, I can handle a blowjob." He says sarcastically, running his fingers through her hair as she slides between his legs.

Astarion watches her with heated eyes as she holds his cock in her hands. He exhales deeply as he looks up at the ceiling, her hands gently stroking him. She leans down, pressing soft kisses along his shaft. He closes his eyes, keeping his hands to himself. Before he would have forced her mouth open, fucking her mouth hard, hearing her gags and whimper. But he lets her take her time now, her tongue tasting him. She smiles up at him as she reaches his tip, her tongue rolling around it. Her fangs peak just underneath her full lips, framing his cock so dangerously. He groans softly, his knee coming up as he gently pets her hair. Just focus on her, his mind repeats as she opens her mouth, guiding his cock down her throat. He watches as she closes her eyes, bobbing her head along his shaft. She moans softly as she drags her fingertips along his inner thighs, her eyes cutting up to his.

His breathing quickens as he massages her scalp, her mouth perfectly warm around his shaft. His fingers grip her hair, his hips trying to thrust lazily into her mouth to quicken her speed. He can't help it, moaning as her tongue rests against the thick underside vein, gently pressing along it as she massages it with each bob. Halsin must have taught her that, he thinks quickly as he tosses his head back.

"My love..." He moans, trying to keep in the present. She pulls up, stroking him. "You are being too devilishly good." He purrs as she rubs him off, feeling proud of herself.

"Oh?" She asks before sucking his pink tip again, her plump lips the perfect frame around it. He closes his eyes briefly as she takes him as far as she can, her mewls muffled. His hips buck against her mouth as he feels himself getting lost in the pleasure.

Too dangerous, too tempting.

"That's enough. I need you." He says, dragging her head up to his cold lips. She laughs softly against his lips, kissing him back. He pushes her back, rolling to be on top of her. His hard cock presses along her warm slit but he pulls away, quickly lying on his stomach as he buries his head between her thighs.

She arches her back, her hips pressing against his mouth. She can barely get her bearings as his tongue prods her apart. Her moans fill the room as his tongue laps at her clit. Her hands tug her shirt off before returning to her breasts, playing with her nipples as she watches his feast. She bites her lip, her breathing quickening. She missed this, so much. Sure she's had others now, but Astarion... She closes her eyes as she moans, her legs resting on his shoulders. He could taste her getting closer, her clit becoming more engorged with each suckle. He comes up for air gently biting her inner thigh before making a trail of kisses up her belly, her chest, and her mouth. He finds focusing on her makes it more enjoyable. She's so reactive to him, the way her tongue rolls around with his, her moans. He breaks the kiss, giving her time to breathe.

He rubs his cock against her, remembering how much physically he loves the ridges above her slit. He's so sensitive already from his want for her, that he takes a deep breath, trying not to get overwhelmed. He gently thrusts inside of her, both of them moaning. He laughs softly as she looks away, her cheeks flushed.

He holds himself above her, wanting to watch her every reaction as he starts to rock his hips. Her brows knit together as she whimpers tiny prayers to some unknown god. He smiles to himself, how dramatic she is being. He hasn't even done anything yet. He picks up his pace, needing more of her reactions, her moans. "Ah, I love you... Oh, my love." She whines, her hands covering her face as she pants. He frowns as he thrusts harder, taking her hands from her face, their fingers interlacing.

"Please don't hide your face from me." He says, pounding into her. She nods, her brows knitting up as she looks up at him. Her watchful eyes meet his, a quick assessment before he rolls his hips against hers. A distraction, he thinks as she cries out, looking away again. She clenches around him as she opens her legs more for him. He can feel himself slipping into overdrive, doing it until he releases. This will be an uphill battle. He wants to stay in the moment so badly, but the motions are the same. The same sensations he'd felt for so long.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, holding him closer, making him slow down. His breathing catches in his throat as she kisses him softly, their hips rocking together. The act brings him back to the moment, his hand leaving hers as he cups her breast, tweaking her nipple between his fingers.

She breaks the kiss, whimpering. Their foreheads touch, and their breathing becomes one. He brushes his nose against hers, their lips barely touching as they pant. His hips grind, burying himself deep inside.

"Astarion..." She moans, her hands resting on either side of his head, their eyes locking.

He grins, picking up his pace again. "Like that?" He asks, feeling electricity in their touch, their gaze.

"Y-y-yes!" She stammers, struggling to keep up. Her tail rests on the back of his thigh, running up and down as he thrusts. He growls, enjoying her gentle touch on his body.

He slows, pulling back. He wants to see the full view again, his hands resting on the underside of her knees. Her arm covers her mouth, muffling her praises as he continues his slow pace. He watches as his cock disappears inside of her warm inviting hole before rocking his hips back. Gods... He doesn't think he'll last long, overwhelmed with his need for her. How gorgeous she is coming undone beneath him. He lets go of her leg briefly, removing her hand from her mouth. "Please, my love. I need to see you." He whispers, returning his hand to her leg. She scrunches up her nose as she looks away, feeling so full from his thrusts.

"Can, can I ride you?" She asks in between cries. He nods laughing softly to himself, reluctant to pull out. He's feeling more alive now, invigorated. She smiles up at him, kissing him quickly, following as he lies on his back. Before she mounts him, she assesses him, staring deeply into his eyes. "We can stop if you want."

He shakes his head, guiding her hips down. "I don't want to." He smiles, kissing her valid worries away.

She whines as he thrusts inside, stretching her again. He doesn't want to give her room to doubt. She saw his familiar face distant look creeping in despite his best efforts. His fingertips gently massage her ass, feeling her tail swipe back and forth between his legs. Her hands rest on his shoulders, her ass rocking back against his thighs.

"You're perfect. So perfect." He whispers as she lifts her hips slightly, trying to find a comfortable pace on her knees.

She rolls her eyes, trying to suppress the smile, moaning out instead. "You're so... Handsome." She replies quickly, feeling his grip tighten on her hips.

His brow quirks up as he smirks, "Oh, go on." He slowly takes over the pace, finding a comfortable rhythm.

She squirms above him, trying to handle his languid thrusts while trying to answer his question, gasping every time he fully sheathes her. "Ah... The Gods took their time... When creating you..." She barely can make out her compliment as he varies his speed, watching as her face contorts with ecstasy.

"They really did, darling, but..." He quickens his thrusts, delighted with himself when her tail wraps around his shin for leverage against his relentless strokes. "I think you could do better."

She whimpers, her nails digging into his shoulders, her breasts bouncing between her arms. "Fuck. Astarion. Please." Her stomach tenses from the immense pleasure. He groans with her, her warm walls clenching around his cock. Her moans become his favorite song, his name on her lips only increasing his need for her. He focuses on the pain from her nails digging into his skin, pounding as hard as he can as she loses her grip, laying on top of him as she cries into his neck.

He slows, giving her a chance to catch her breath, edging her as she rocks her hips, slowly riding him. She sits up after a moment, her eyes still closed as she tries to get more comfortable on her knees after the pummeling. He closes his eyes, enjoying her taking her time, his cock nestled deep inside, his tip pressing against her c-spot. She squirms again as she tries her best to ride him, her legs shaking. He smiles up at her, her brown skin with a soft sheen of sweat.

"Every time I move, I get so overwhelmed." She says quickly, turning her head away from him as she rocks her hips. She glances down at him through her lashes, checking to see if he's still present.

His eyes are hungry as he digs his fingers into her skin, starting to take over the pace again. "My love, I am lost in your pleasure. Those beautiful brown orbs hypnotize me." He starts his thrusts again, her eyes shut tight, her tail gripping him hard. She leans down, wrapping her arms around him as she comes undone above him, his name sung to the heavens. She tosses her head back as she holds herself still against his thrusts. She makes fists against his chest, her orgasm taking her vision.

He's proud of himself, feeling her contract and gush around him. Her pleasure belongs just to him, no one else. He moans with her, not giving her time to relax this time as he leans up, wrapping her in an embrace as he buries his head in her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. He grinds against her in this new position, panting against her hot skin. He lifts his hips against her, rutting against her, his tip convulsing inside.

She's too perfect, too close to the sun and like some mortal flying close, he dares try, unafraid of burns. He almost bites her neck out of habit, to eat and spill his seed as he's done for the past centuries. He stops himself, giving her soft unhurried kisses along her neck and chest, as he twitches inside with each thrust. He is so used to going as fast as he can once he feels himself about to cum. Always a race, but he takes his time, feeling more sensitive each time he thrusts inside.

The urge to relentlessly pound her does wash over him, but he keeps at it, her moans cheering him on. He tenses each time her ass comes flush against his skin, nostrils flaring. "Sarnarei..." He whimpers her name, his hands wrapping around her back. "I love you. I..."

She doesn't say it back, not having a chance as she feels his engorged tip pressing against her cervix. She holds him close to her chest as he pants, his body contracting as he holds his hips up, his cock erupting deep inside of her womb.

Neither of them says anything, their haggard breaths and soft sighs fill the silence. Her fingers massage his damp scalp while the others make a small circular pattern on his shoulder. If he could sleep, he would. He would sleep for eternity in her arms. He glances up at her after a moment, a sleepy smile on his face. She returns the sleepy smile, too tired to check him over and assess him. "I love you too," She finally replies, her voice hoarse.

She moves from his lap, letting his now flaccid cock slip out. She whimpers, missing the fullness. Astarion rolls his eyes as he pulls her into a cuddle, staring up at the wooden ceiling. "I was so nervous before..." He admits, laughing to himself.

"Nervous?" She asks, worries lining her face.

"I know. How could I be nervous about something as easy as this." His voice is light but his expression serious as he glances down at his partner. "I wanted you. Craved you. I starved and you brought me back to life. I felt so connected." The worries disappear as she kisses his shoulder. "I still will need more time before we make this a regular occurrence again."

Sarnarei traces another mindless pattern on his chest, nodding. "Take all the time you need. I'll always be here. You know I won't mind." Her smile is warm and understanding. Always so understanding.

He lifts her face towards his, the chaste kiss deepening as he pulls her closer, his thigh brushing against her still swelling clit. She whimpers against his mouth, breaking the kiss. "I can still tease though," Astarion says cheekily.

"Don't tease me too much. I don't know if I can go again." She whines hiding her face.

"Well, in that case, we should probably go down to see this comedian."

Sarnarei grimaces as she lifts her head, feeling exhausted. "We could just stay here."

Astarion nips her neck playfully. "There's too much temptation in this bed... Come, let's go have some fun, my sweet. We can always see where the night takes us." He picks her up with ease, her giggles erupting from her chest as he leads them to the bath to clean up.

#astarion #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #baldur's gate oc #baldurs gate 3 #tav: sarnarei #writing #fanfic #smut

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runabout-river · 3 months

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Thoughts on JJK Chapter 250 (spoilers)

This chapter is marked by us getting to know Yuta's DE and Sukuna being pushed around in it. Next chapter will most likely be about Sukuna finding a counter against the trio and maybe destroying Rika.

That's one hell of a Sukuna face up there.

We learn that Yuta's DE provides him an infinite number of CTs he can draw from with the only weakness that he doesn't know which CT is in which sword. Holding more than two swords would also hinder him from fighting and blocking but he might put one sword in his mouth in a pinch

Sukuna is still weakened by the fight against Gojo (RIP Kashimo) and can't use his DE. His RCT is also sluggish and his total amount of CE is on par with Yuta right now. Which is still much of course, Yuta had always been known as the sorcerer with the most CE

Yuji being thrown by Rika is hilarious, absurd and fitting because he's tough in a HR kind of way.

This chapter is also the first one where rescuing Megumi actually feels like a possibility and sth the good guys want to do primarily. Yes, we had that short moment with Gojo but his fight had a different focus most of the time.

It's also worth noting that Sukuna speaks about himself as a cursed object inside Megumi. In case he meant that literally then they're not as fused together as I always thought. That might be sth that only applies to Yuji, Megumi and Hana though. For every other vessel, we know that their consciousness gets erased.

Even Sukuna asks how they trained in the last month because of the sophisticated way Yuta's Domain barrier is constructed as well as the defences of the others. While Yuji answers with good old discipline, Yuta slips up and says that they cheated.

HOW? Was this the body swapping technique that Yuji had used? Or some other way where they collectively powered up? Did the evil trio train too? Probably not.

French boy gets a moment to shine after not being seen for... 100 chapters? I'm baffled at the 3rd CT that Sukuna mentions though. I don't remember a sorcerer like that and who knows how many more CT there are in Yuta's arsenal.

My thoughts on Yuta's DE deleting the copied CT isn't the case apparently, except that kind of drawback will be revealed after the domain collapses and Yuta survives long enough to use his CT again

Yuji is loath to admit it, but Sukuna is The Strongest Sorcerer on Earth now and even when Gojo comes back, that title will be lost for him forever

And Cleave on Sukuna! It's not annihilating but it still gave him some deep cuts. Yuta probably hoped for more damage but their strategy to chip away at Sukuna is working until now.

But what about Megumi? I can't even imagine how this will play out. Even if he is roused from his Bath, will he want to take control? He feels responsible for Tsumiki's death and that won't be different for Gojo.

Tsumiki's soul is with him but I don't think they're able to communicate at all. As far as Sukuna knows, Megumi was also completely dormant in the last month, however much that is true we'll hopefully see in the next few weeks.

Some thoughts about Megumi from the last year:

Sukuna will put his hands together to finally expand his domain again but instead of his hand seals, the hand seal for Chimera Shadow Garden will form and Megumi will expand his domain

Inside the domain, Megumi forms a clone of himself and faces off against Sukuna face-to-face.

Megumi might also have gained the collective knowledge of everything that Sukuna and Gojo know. For Sukuna by having a reverse memory grab like how Sukuna knows Megumi's memories. For Gojo because of his Unlimited Void hitting Megumi 5 times with every piece of information Gojo imparted into his technique.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #fushiguro megumi #yuji itadori #yuta okkotsu #itadori yuuji

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helloalycia · 1 year

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watching TV [three] // kate bishop

summary: after your feelings come at you in full force, you're not sure what to do with your relationship with Kate.

warning/s: mentions of injury and violence.

author's note: this is the last part! i hope you all liked it :)

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

The night of the event soon arrives and as if worried that Kate will somehow back out last minute, Kate's mum sends over a driver to stop by both of our places and pick us up.

Always the people-pleaser, I have no choice but to wear the dress she bought for me. It isn't actually too bad, but the pressure of wearing something extremely expensive (because I have no doubt it costs more than all of my belongings put together) and not damaging it is intense.

I'm picked up first and Kate doesn't live far, but the last thing I expect when the driver stops outside her place is for her to be wearing the exact opposite of what her mum left her. In fact, instead of the strapless, elegant blue dress she was given, she's decided to wear a scarlet-coloured tuxedo. She pulls it off extremely well, I'm not blind, but it's hard to appreciate when I know she's only done it to piss of her mum.

"Wow, you look beautiful," is the first thing she says when she sits beside me in the backseat.

I give her a look of disbelief, ignoring her bright smile and the way my insides go all mushy at her words. "Seriously? Kate, what happened to the dress?"

She shrugs, putting her seatbelt on. "Wasn't feeling it."

I sigh deeply, leaning back into my seat as the drivers sets off. "Your mum is gonna kill you, you know that, right? She gave me one job. Get you there in a somewhat-respectable outfit."

"Hey, this is respectable!" she defends, tugging at her bow tie and grinning at me. "Don't I look great?"

Trying my very hardest not to give in to her charm, I give her a sideways glance. But of course, the most adorable expression is staring back at me and she really does look good. She must notice I'm giving in because she starts to laugh.

"I knew you loved me," she decides, smiling to herself as she looks out the window.

"Luckily," I mumble, trying to fight the smile from my own lips.

When we arrive at the hall booked out for the event, I'm not surprised at how lavish and amazing everything looks, from the venue itself to all of the wealthy people in it. I don't expect anything less from the Bishops. But it still takes some getting used to.

Kate's mum finds us in no time, greeting us, (scolding Kate), showing us around and then leaving us to acquaint ourselves as she gets ushered away by some guests. Again, this sort of thing isn't my cup of tea, neither is it Kate's, but I put on my best pretence and try to at least look like I'm enjoying myself. Kate is a lot more transparent with her feelings however, so it seems that distracting her is the only way to get her to behave.

"Okay, your mum has glared daggers at us three times from across the room because you won't stop messing about," I tell her after removing the breadstick from her hand that she is pretending is a magic wand. "How about we play a game?"

"A game," she says, unconvinced. "What game?"

I bite my lip, looking around the room for inspiration. Something has to keep Kate occupied apart from torturing her mother. But the only thing here are a bunch of guests whom I know nothing about. It's some sort of networking event for all the people in Kate's mum's circle – nothing that I can get involved in but definitely something for Kate if she was interested.

"Kiss, marry, kill," Kate suddenly says, and I glance at her with a raised brow.

"Pardon?"

She smiles cheekily as she always does. "Let's play kiss, marry, kill with the people around us. C'mon, it'll be fun."

"Will you sit still for two minutes if I say yes?"

"Cross my heart," she mutters mischievously, motioning across her chest with her finger.

I groan quietly, grabbing two drinks from a nearby waiter as they walk by. "Fine. Let's go find a seat."

She accepts the drink I give her and we take a seat in one of the few seating areas. It's occupied by a few other guests, but Kate and I are able to snag a small couch with the perfect view of this corner of the room.

"Okay, me first," she says with a childish excitement, eyes scanning the guests. "Okay, I've got one. That couple there and the old guy behind them."

I follow her gaze, spotting who she's talking about. "The woman with the curly hair?" She hums, so I answer, "Easy. Fuck the old guy, marry the woman, kill the boyfriend."

She snorts with amusement. "Really? Fuck the old guy?"

"He gives off better vibes than the sleazy boyfriend, what can I say?" I say with a shrug, making her laugh. "Seriously, what is it with pretty girls dating gross guys?"

She rolls her eyes playfully. "If only we knew."

"It's a phenomenon that needs to be studied," I say seriously, before looking around. "Okay my turn. That woman over there by the table. Red dress. Dark hair. Her, the guy who looks like her son that she's talking to. And the lady beside him."

She scrunches her nose up, laughing. "Oh, Y/N, c'mon! That's gross! It's incestuous!"

I chuckle. "I said they looked related, not that they were! Now answer."

She nudges me slightly before getting comfortable and narrowing her eyes. After staying deep in thought for a moment, she decides, "Okay, fuck the red dress, marry the daughter-in-law, kill the son."

I laugh at her bluntness, before slapping her leg. "Kate, why did you have to say it like that?!"

She turns to me, eyes flickering between mine as an amused smile tugs at her lips. "What? I don't know what you mean."

She definitely does, but I let her have it as I shake my head dismissively.

"Okay, make mine challenging like I did with yours," I tell her, before taking a sip of my drink.

"You found me a MILF, it wasn't too challenging," she jokes, making me stifle another laugh because the nearby guests are definitely sending confused glances our way.

"A MILF?" I return the teasing, raising an eyebrow. "Right, where's your mum at?" She gasps as I continue the bit, looking around and saying, "Eleanor Bishop? Do you see her?"

"That's disgusting!" she exclaims, yanking me back and slapping me on the shoulder as I sink into a fit of laughter. "I'm gonna throw up. Actual vomit is rising in my mouth, god!"

"I'm kidding," I say between laughter, tears forming in my eyes because she looks disgusted and I love it. "Well, kind of. Your mum scares me, don't get me wrong, but she could technically be classified as a MILF."

Kate makes a vomiting gesture with her hand and mouth, making me grin.

"Don't worry, I prefer her daughter anyway," I say reassuringly, not realising it's slipped out until she does a double take.

Oh my god, why the hell did I say that?!

Hoping to play it off as mere friendly banter, I look the other way, distracting myself with my drink.

"Your go then, c'mon," I say nonchalantly, trying to change the subject.

I feel her nod beside me and wait, wondering if it is suddenly hot in here or if it is just my embarrassment haunting me. Glancing over at Kate, I see she's smiling to herself as she too distracts herself with her drink, and immediately look away because– nope. I'm not even going there.

A few hours pass and Kate and I are having a blast. Luckily, I manage to keep her out of her mum's laser stare for most of the evening, distracting her with silly games and the snacks table. It works, until Eleanor herself finds us and unfortunately has to excuse Kate from me so she can introduce her to some of the company's investors. After giving Kate a warning look that meant for her to behave, I let her go and busy myself with making a plate of food.

"Can I just say that I love your dress, sweetie."

I look up when I realise someone beside me is speaking to me. It's an older lady, gorgeous in every aspect of the word and whom I've never seen before. Actually, now that I think about it, she might be one of the women Kate and I deemed a MILF in our fuck, marry, kill game earlier tonight. Trying to erase that from my brain, I smile at her gratefully.

"Thank you," I say, before returning the compliment. "I love yours, too! Red really is your colour."

She waves a dismissive hand, though is smiling all the same. "Please, I just threw this on."

I chuckle a little, before looking back to my plate, wondering if she's going to leave, but she doesn't.

"You're here with the Bishops, right?" she asks, making conversation as she too makes a plate of food.

"Yep."

"Eleanor's daughter, Kate... her girlfriend, right?"

"Yep." Then my eyes widen and I look up. "Wait, what was that?"

The woman pauses, confused. "Kate? Your girlfriend?" She smiles kindly. "I saw you both together and you look lovely. It's sweet she brought you along." She laughs as I digest her words, leaning in and adding, "My husband did the same with me, but between you and I, I'd rather have stayed home."

I smile awkwardly, though I'm still reeling from her assumption. "I, erm, sorry, but I think you've misunderstood." At her head tilt of confusion, I clarify, "Kate and I– we're not– we're just friends."

Gosh, why am I so flustered right now?

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

Embarrassed, she laughs uncomfortably. "Oh, my, wow, I'm so sorry for assuming! I just– as I said, I saw you both around all evening and you were together, laughing and looking all cosy and– never mind. I'm sorry. It's nice of you to have joined her anyway."

Wishing the Earth would swallow me up here and now, I merely smile awkwardly and nod. She looks as uncomfortable as I and smiles once more before leaving with her plate of food.

After doing the same, I find an empty standing table with the intention of eating, but all I can think about is this evening. Yes, tonight has been fun and a lot of that is down to Kate, but that's not any different from any other night, is it? We're just friends.

I look up, searching for the girl in question and hoping she's almost done with her mingling – it seems that whenever I'm left alone, I start to overthink every single thing. I find her across the room, stood slightly behind her mother as she's talking to some guests. Kate's smiling politely, nodding and surprisingly behaving, but I know her well enough to know she's extremely bored. Glancing around thoughtlessly, her eyes catch mine and she immediately brightens up, smiling for real. I return her smile with my own, watching as she looks back to her mum when she's involved in the conversation.

She's saying something, earning a laugh from the guests, before she's bored yet again. Her eyes catch mine once more and she tries to suppress her smile as she widens her eyes, looking to the guests next to her.

Behave, I mouth to her with amusement, but she doesn't listen.

She looks back to her mum and the guests, but I notice her hand behind her back, making a chatterbox gesture. She's doing it on purpose to make me laugh and, goddamn it, I hate that it works. Glancing at me again, I spot a mischievous glint in her eyes, even from across the room, and it makes my insides go warm and fuzzy.

Oh, God, there it is again. It keeps happening, a lot more than usual tonight. Am I falling for her? It can't be. Because it will ruin everything. Sure, I sometimes see her and think 'wow, she's just effortlessly pretty today' – but that's mere appreciation! And the cosy feeling I get whenever I'm around her is nothing more than a safety net because she's my best friend. It isn't anything more, it can't be. It's not allowed to be.

Fuck, I think it is.

My palms grow clammy with nerves as I begin to panic slightly. Fuck, fuck fuck. I don't like Kate. I don't.

Liking someone, especially someone as important as Kate... No. Memories of Hannah comes to my mind. What she said, how I felt when she just decided to leave, just like that.

No. I refuse to have that happen again.

A tap on my shoulder interrupts my panicked train of thought and I jump, looking up. It's Kate, smiling humorously as she looks between my plate and I.

"Are you done hoovering the appetisers?" she teases, but my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest and I can't find it in myself to smile.

"What's up?" she asks with mild concern, lowering her head to find my eyes, but I can't meet hers.

I can't be here any longer.

"I'm not feeling well," I say, mouth dry.

She snickers. "It's probably all the bread rolls you've put away."

I shake my head, stepping back and making her drop her hand from my arm. "I've gotta go home."

Realising I'm serious, her smile drops. "Wait, what? What's wrong?"

She reaches for my hand, holding it lightly and taking a second to study my expression. The simplest of touches makes my skin burn, and it doesn't help that she's watching me with the utmost concern. Blue eyes are softened, twinkling, beautiful... She's always cared this much, hasn't she? I've just never noticed.

"I'm just not feeling entirely well," I try to reassure with a small smile. "Maybe I did eat too much. I should go before I throw everything up."

"Okay, I can come with you," she says.

"No," I say quicker than I should have, making her raise an eyebrow. "I mean, it's your mum's event. It won't look right, you leaving early. Stay, please."

She frowns, eyes flickering between mine. "Are you sure? I'd rather be with you."

My heart swells instinctively, touched by her words, and I try my hardest to stop feeling this way, but the only way it will stop is if she stops looking at me like she is.

"I'll be fine," I promise her, needing her to let go of my hand because I can't feel it anymore.

"Okay," she gives in reluctantly, letting go. "Call me if you change your mind and I can stop by."

I nod, forcing a smile and avoiding her eyes. "Will do. Have a nice evening, Kate."

Just when I'm about to turn and leave, she steps forward and hugs me. It's brief, but my whole body is on fire by the time she lets go.

"Feel better," she says sweetly, smiling.

Oh, I'm fucked.

It's hard not to overthink every single interaction I've ever had with Kate following the evening of her mum's event. I can't help it.

Back when we first became friends at university, she's always been so considerate, so easygoing, so lovely to me. She's just a naturally caring person and she's never let me down, not once. And I've loved and appreciated every part of it, though nothing more than in a platonic appreciation sort of way. It had to be like that because I was with Hannah, and why would I think of my best friend in any other way when I had a girlfriend at the time?

But lately... I don't have a girlfriend anymore, and now my feelings for Kate are no longer platonic. I try to ignore it, but every touch, every glance, every sweet thing she says to me is misinterpreted on my end. I know I'm falling too hard too fast, but I can't stop it. Why now? What's so different now versus three years ago?

I don't know. I just know that every moment I spend with her, I can't not feel how I do when I'm around her. Elated, fuzzy, warm. She doesn't know and I'm not planning on telling her. I don't think she feels the same, and if she does? Well, all the more reason to keep this to myself because it would only lead to the inevitable, and that's something I'm actively trying to avoid.

I can't say it's going too well though.

Kate has been on a mission for the past two weeks and I haven't missed her this much in a long time. So, when her return date finally arrives, I bring a box of doughnuts and head over to her apartment to see her.

"Kate?" I ask, knocking on the door before pulling out my key. "It's me, I'm letting myself in!"

When there's no refusal, I do just that and look around, only to find her sitting on the couch with a bag of frozen peas on her shoulder and a compact mirror in her hand. My eyes widen when I see the fresh cuts on her face, matching the black eye forming.

"Oh my god, Kate!" I exclaim, shutting the door and leaving the box on the kitchen table before rushing over to her. "What the hell happened?"

She smiles, though it's pained. "Minor incident on the mission. Not a big deal."

I sit beside her, raising my eyebrows. "Seriously? Don't they have an infirmary at the Compound?!"

Lowering the mirror, she tuts defeatedly. "Ah, you got me. The mission went fine, but there was a mugging happening close by on the way here and I couldn't just watch it go down."

Sighing, I can't help but look at the swelling on her eye and the small bleeding cuts. "That's very heroic of you, Kate, but you need to be careful. You're not invincible."

"Well, if you were getting mugged, wouldn't you hope somebody would step in and help?"

"Yes, but–"

"There you go then," she cuts me off with playful smile. I give her a disapproving look, and she merely winks and gets back to cleaning up the cuts on her face in the mirror.

Rolling my eyes, I take the mirror from her hand and close it. "Let me help, idiot."

Relieved, she gives in without a fight and explains what to do. After listening, I take over and finish cleaning up the cuts, applying little plasters to help them close up. Thankfully, it's nothing too serious, but I definitely don't feel good about seeing her in pain like this.

When I'm done, she thanks me before lifting the frozen peas from her shoulder with a wince.

"Do you need to see a doctor?" I ask with concern, taking the peas from her hand and putting them to the side.

She shakes her head casually. "Nah, I'll be alright. It's just bruised. The guy got a good whack with his bat."

I frown subconsciously, hating the thought of her fighting a thug as is. She's capable, I know, but reckless, too.

"How have you been anyway?" she asks, leaning back into the couch with a content sigh. "Tell me everything I've missed these past few weeks."

Reluctantly, I share what I've been up to. Nothing exciting, mainly work stuff, but she listens intently all the same, a captivated smile on her face.

"That's me, anyway," I finish. "I just came by to see how you are. Brought some doughnuts, too. If I'd known, I would have brought a doctor."

She rolls her eyes with amusement, before her eyes settle in the kitchen. "You didn't have to, but I can't say no. One might say, I dough-nut mind if I do."

It's such a terrible joke, but it brings a small smile to my lips anyway. Satisfied, she smiles before attempting to stand up quickly. She flinches instantly and sits back down, hand falling to her shoulder.

"Easy, Kate," I tell her, keeping her still and resting my hand atop hers. "You can't rush around like that."

"Sorry," she mumbles, frowning at the pain before sighing once it passes.

"You seriously need to be more careful," I tell her sternly, eyes roaming her face. "Returning to me all banged up and bloody isn't what I want."

Instinctively, my hand raises to touch her face, fingers wavering over the cuts that are now cleaned up. My thumb barely grazes her black eye before falling to her lips, particularly the cut just next to it. I find myself getting distracted by her lips in general, thumb moving over to them, almost tracing them before I realise what the hell I'm doing.

Clearing my throat with embarrassment, I drop my hand and look up to her eyes, an apology on the tip of my tongue. But she's distracted, too, eyes half-lidded as they focus on my lips. I hold my breath when she leans in, but my eyes close when she closes the gap between us. It's a simple brush of her lips against mine, making my heart skip a beat at the contact. I'm barely thinking straight, unable to comprehend what's even happening as everything works on autopilot.

I feel her hand lift to the back of my neck before she presses her lips to mine again, this time with more intention, and I fall into it so easily like it's always supposed to have been like this. Her breath tickles my nose when she parts for a second, sending shivers down my spine, but just like that, she takes my bottom lip between hers and presses her tongue to mine. I let her, melting under her touch and not giving it a second thought.

Only when we run out of breath and part for seconds longer than before do I realise what's just happened. And then panic begins to set in, making me back away and stand up quickly.

"Y/N, oh my god," she says suddenly, standing up when she too realises what's happened. She takes a step forward, but I take one back, lips swollen and heart racing. "I'm sorry, I– please, wait, I–"

"I should go," is all I can think to say, still reeling from the taste of her.

Nope, can't think about that.

Turning on my heel, I speed-walk to the door, but she races after me, stopping before me and making me stop, too. Wincing at her shoulder from the quick movement, she pulls a face before meeting my eyes with pleading ones.

"Just wait, please," she says breathlessly, holding her shoulder.

I swallow thickly, staring at her feet because I can't seem to look up without staring at her lips. I wait.

"I'm in love with you," she finally says.

Suddenly, I feel sick at her words, definitely not expecting her to say that of all things.

"I have to go," I say, before pushing past her gently and leaving.

Thankfully she doesn't follow me, and I'm glad because otherwise I'd have to explain why my heart is beating so loud I can't seem to hear anything.

It's horribly unfair to avoid Kate after the kiss, but I can't help but do that, finding it easier to shut her out whilst I try to figure out what to do. A few days goes by and I still feel like I'm stood in her apartment, watching as she tells me she's in love with me. It's replaying in my mind, no matter how hard I try to avoid thinking about it.

How can we come back from that?

She tries to get in touch with me, but I can't talk to her or text her or hear her voice because I need to collect myself. She's in love with me, and I think I'm in love with her, too.

No, I know I am.

The kiss was perfect. And that's why it's wrong. I just want to be friends, it's so much easier this way. But how? The line has been crossed. It's too late now.

I'm returning home from work almost a week later, tired and cranky and just wanting to collapse on my couch. But when I walk to my floor and approach my doorway, I recognise Kate's figure waiting outside. Pausing, I wonder if I can slip away before she's seen me, but she notices me anyway, standing up from the floor instantly.

"Please, don't leave," she says desperately, eyes widened.

I swallow uncomfortably, keeping my eyes on the keys in my hand as I attempt to open the door. "I don't have time for this. I'm tired from work and–"

"Y/N, please," she pleads.

"Sorry, Kate," I say, finally unlocking my door and hoping to get in quickly. "Not now."

I suppose it's my idiocy that makes me believe I can get in without it her managing to slip in behind me. She is a superhero after all.

Groaning, I turn around to politely tell her to leave, but she's already talking before I can.

"I'm sorry for what happened," she says earnestly, a slight frown on her lips. "I know you want space, but I need to fix this. I didn't mean to kiss you. Or– well– I did, but I didn't mean for it to ruin everything."

I shake my head and step past her, heading to the kitchen. "I can't do this now, Kate. I need time to think. I–"

"I'm in love with you," she says, and it makes me stop in my tracks.

There she goes again. So easy of her to say.

"You're not," I mutter, unable to face her. "You can't be."

She doesn't answer straight away, but her footsteps sound closer and then she's stood before me, searching for my eyes as she lowers her head.

"I am," she says with certainty, blue eyes sparkling as they find mine. "I have been for three and a half years."

Every part of me feels like it's on fire when she keeps staring at me with such adoration that I don't know what to do with it. Three and a half years? We've known each other for four.

"I am," she repeats, nodding slightly.

"No..."

"You kissed me back," she points out, voice so soft as if she's afraid I'll kick her out or find a way to leave the conversation.

"I know." I look away again, unable to hold her gaze for much longer.

"So...?"

I close my eyes, squeezing them shut as I try to calm my raging heart. She makes everything seem so easy. Though, if she's been in love with me for so long, maybe it hasn't been as easy as it seems.

"Y/N–"

"I love you, too," I finally admit aloud, opening my eyes to be met with her surprised expression. "But it can't happen, Kate. I can't lose you."

Recovering from her momentary surprise, she shakes her head. "You won't. Why would you?"

Subconsciously, I begin to tense my jaw. She's doing it again, watching me like I'm everything to her. And it hurts so much, reminding me of why this can't be. I've seen that look before. It's only temporary.

"You're going to realise," I start, and my face immediately heats up with embarrassment because of the lump in my throat and the tears stinging at my lids.

"What?" she prompts, resting a hand on my shoulder with concern.

I suck up a breath, looking to the side. "You'll be in love for now, but not forever. You'll realise that I'm not worth loving and then you'll just leave. And I'll be alone again. Not only losing my girlfriend, but my best friend, too. And I can't have that, Kate, I can't lose you. Not another person I love. Not after last time."

"No, no, no," she rushes out, clasping my face and wiping away some stray tears. "It's not going to happen, Y/N."

I meet her eyes, my own staring bluntly. "Nobody plans for it to happen, but it could."

It's happened before.

"It won't," she says with such conviction that I almost believe her. "I didn't stick around for this long just to stop loving you one day. That's not how it works."

I carefully pull her hands down from my face. "Kate–"

"No," she says sternly, clutching my fingers in hers and holding my stare. "I'm in love with you, Y/N! Every part of you. Even when I was certain you wouldn't feel the same. I didn't care that I'd only ever have you as a friend because you're just that amazing. That loveable. And I'll spend every day for the rest of my life showing you that, telling you that, if I damn well have to."

My eyes are blurring again, myself unable to stop the tears from forming. Why is she saying this? Why did she believe it?

Why hadn't I seen it sooner?

"Don't push me away," she begs. "Please. I won't hurt you. I won't do what Hannah did. I wouldn't dare."

Squeezing her hands gently, I start, "Kate..." But I don't know what to say. All I know is my heart is thumping in my chest and I can't think straight when she's pouring out her heart to me like this.

Her eyes dart between mine, as confident as ever. "I once told you that you deserve the world and every good thing in it, but that you would just have to settle for me. Well... I'll live up to that, Y/N. For you."

She holds my gaze, patient as I try to make sense of everything. Never has she been so vulnerable with me and I feel like an idiot for not noticing all of this sooner. Nobody has ever loved me so dearly or made my heart burst with adoration as much as she has in just this conversation.

I rest my hand on the back of her neck and pull her close, hugging her tightly. Her hands lift to my back, holding me, too.

"You're already everything good in this world," I murmur into her neck.

Pulling back, I keep ahold of her, eyes flickering between hers. I want to believe her. I think I might. How can't I? She makes it sound so easy and she's quite convincing when she wants to be. I'm terrified, nothing will change that. I never want to experience what I did with Hannah, especially not if it means losing Kate. But sometimes it's better to give it a go than push it away. If I don't act on my feelings, I still lose Kate. Either way I lose her.

I can't lose her.

"I love you," I tell her firmly, needing her to know that I feel the same way. That I'm not doubting it anymore.

She's quiet, content with holding me close and studying my expression. I can't help it anymore, and I close the gap between us, pressing my lips to hers. She sighs before pulling me close by the waist, and the feeling of her fingers against my shirt in such a tender movement makes my heart skip a beat.

I'm not sure what will happen, but I know I trust Kate. I always have.

#marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #hawkeye #hawkeye imagine #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #hailee steinfeld

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