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theaawalker · 1 month

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Only Fools Fall in Love | Steddie Imagine

Pairing: Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson Song Inspo: Andrew by Ben Platt Word Count: 2,574 Summary: Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington. Neither of them want to address it for various reasons. They're just two idiots in love. Warnings: angst, slowburn Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

After defeating Vecna and barely escaping the upside down, Steve knew his life was never going to be the same again. He no longer had the pleasure of being blissfully unaware of the darkness that surrounded Hawkins. He knew about the creatures that lurked in the shadows. Knew how powerful they were and the amount of damage they had caused to their little town, how many lives were lost in the mix of creatures that were never supposed to exist.

They were supposed to be fiction, stories told to kids to keep them in their homes at certain times, to scare them into staying safe and not wondering into the forest alone at night. Unfortunately, those things were very real, too real for Steve's liking.

Some days he wished to be one of those dense high school kids who only cared about their reputation and didn't know what was happening in the world around them. He wished to be like the old Steve, the one who only cared about hooking up, parties and Nancy Wheeler. He loved her in a way he never thought he could love; she awakened something in him that he didn't know existed. Then she was ripped out of his life without even the slightest warning, she left him, she didn't love him. She said it was all bullshit. They were bullshit.

He knew now that she was right about it all, they were bullshit. Neither of them were ready or mature enough for a relationship, they were too different, too young and too foolish. Nancy was better with Jonathan, they had bonded over their trauma and Steve was jealous at first, but after seeing that massive smile on her face, he knew that she had exactly who she needed. It stung, seeing them together, they were everywhere he went, and he hated it. So, he went to parties and got piss drunk to forget and occasionally he stopped by that disgusting trailer park to buy from Eddie Munson.

Eddie "The Freak" Munson was the best dealer in town, he always had a fixed supply unlike some of the other idiots who couldn't keep up with the demand. Steve didn't necessarily like Eddie that much, he was too loud, too dramatic, too all over the place and too different. He was what Steve never could be, unapologetically different.

He never apologized for being who he was, he never cared what anyone thought or said about him. In fact, he played into it, he wore the term 'Freak' like a badge of honor and used it to scare off any potential threats. It worked most of the time, while people found him annoying, they never did anything to psychically stop him.

That irritated Steve even more. Eddie got away with being himself. Steve wished he could just exist without the fear of getting judged or trampled on. So, he worked his way up the high school ranks and became King Steve, someone everybody wanted to be or be with. None of it was true though, he was never a king. He was never any of the things they made him out to be, well except a douche. He was definitely a douche.

So now, two years after graduating high school, he had finally accepted that life was never going to be easy for him. He would never get to be his true self in front of everyone, he would never get to show the real Steve to all of Hawkins. He'd probably get beaten up or killed for it to be fair.

"Hey dingus" Robin's voice broke through his train of thought, "stop staring into space, we've got customers to attend to."

He shot her a glare before turning to the customer at the register who was returning some of the tapes she rented. His face softened when he saw the girl staring at him nervously.

"Sorry about that," he stated, "will you be renting anything else today, or just returning?"

The girl shrugged, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger, "I haven't decided yet, I still have to have a look. Any suggestions?"

"Uh... Fire With Fire seems to be a hit right now, it's in the romance section"

"Are you into romance?" She asked in what he assumed was supposed to be a flirty voice.

He shrugged, "not really. I just watch whatever, but I've heard it's a good movie." He turned to Robin and smirked, "Rob and I are actually going to watch it together tonight."

A deep red blush covered the girl's cheeks at the thought of flirting with a taken man, "I'm so sorry, I have no idea."

Steve waved her off, "it's okay, happens to the best of us."

Robin scowled at him as the customer scurried away after deciding that she definitely wasn't going to rent Fire With Fire now. She thanked them and nearly ran out of the store.

"Really Steve. Using me as your repellant. Usually, you manage to get rid of the girls just be being yourself." she teased before going to the back and adding another strike under the 'You Suck' column.

Steve sat on the counter and watched her return from the break room, he wanted to tell her the truth, but he has been struggling to get the words out for the last year. It was scary being open like this, having someone know everything about you was terrifying and he didn't want it to change anything between them. She was his best friend and he loved her. He didn't want this stupid shit to come between them, he didn't want to lose the one person who understood him the best.

Losing Nancy was hard but losing Robin would probably kill him, she was his biggest support and he truly appreciated and cherished their friendship. What started out as a stupid crush on his coworker quickly turned into the most meaningful friendship he has ever had. The possibility of losing that scared him more than the monsters they faced over the last three years.

"Steve. Seriously what's up?" Robin spoke up again, a concerned look on her face, "you've been spacing out all day and you keep getting this look on your face that looks like you want to do something stupid and it's freaking me out. Are you okay? Is it Vecna? Is he still alive? Is it me? Oh god. Did I do something to make you hate me and now you want to quit your job and move away and never see me again. You've probably already packed to leave and now you're trying to think of a way to break it to m–"

"Robin, breathe. God. I'm not going anywhere" he cut her off, "I've just got a lot on my mind, and it doesn't have anything to do with Vecna or the upside down or any of that crazy shit. I'm just trying to figure out a few things."

She nodded "sorry. I got a little carried away."

They shared a laugh before going silent again, a comfortable air settling between them as they got back to work. It was a relatively quiet day in Family Video, so they didn't really do much and soon their shift came to an end and Steve got ready to lock up while Robin waited in his car.

"Hey Harrington, fancy seeing you here" he heard a familiar voice pipe up behind him.

"I work here Eddie" he said flatly.

Eddie tsked, "I'm well aware of that Stevie, I was just being courteous."

"Stevie?" He questioned.

He and Munson became kind of friends after the whole Upside Down incident. Watching Eddie nearly bleed to death made him realize that he came to like Eddie in the short time they spent together. He learnt a lot about the guy while running away from Vecna and the enraged townspeople who believed that Eddie was a satanic murderer.

The stakes were high but somehow Eddie always managed to inject humor into every situation to make it feel a lot less intense. He had a way of making people comfortable around him, of making them feel at ease. It was surprising yet welcomed at the time and watching him so close to death made the entire gang realize how much Eddie Munson truly meant to them.

He was one of them now, a part of the club, a trusted member. So, it wasn't weird for him to be here, speaking to Steve.

"Well Stevie, I figured since we escaped death together and kicked Vecna's tentacle ass we're basically friends now. There's nothing wrong with giving your friend a nickname now is there, Steve? "

Eddie had that wide eyed look on his face, the one that made Steve squirm in place, his stare was always intense. Steve felt as if he was staring into his soul, trying to unravel every dark secret locked up inside of him. Yet the casual smile on his face said the opposite, it contradicted his beady eyes in the best way possible. The perfect balance of intense and soft, which was exactly how Steve would describe Eddie.

He cleared his throat, trying his best to ignore the slight warmth in his cheeks, "uh. Sure. Yeah. Stevie... I like it"

Eddie chuckled at his flustered state, "I actually came by to invite you and Robin to a movie night at my place. Tomorrow at 7, don't be late Harrington."

Steve watched him walk off without waiting for a response, and while he tried to mill over everything Eddie said, he only managed to get stuck on the fact that Eddie referred to him as 'Harrington' again. He wasn't sure why it upset him that much, it was his surname after all, but after being called Stevie, hearing his last name out of Eddie's lips no longer sounded right.

He wanted to be called Stevie. He wanted Eddie to call him Stevie every day, because the way he said it made his stomach do the slightest flip. The way he drawled it out in that raspy voice of his, made it sound so much better than it would sound if anyone else said it. He wanted to be Eddie's Stevie.

That thought stumped him, because he had never thought of another guy like that. He never felt that happy to hear a guy give him a nickname. But to be fair, Eddie Munson wasn't just another guy. He was different. Special.

Tuesday came rolling around and Steve was on edge the entire day, he had hung out with Eddie before, but this somehow felt different. So much so that he was nervous and jittery the entire day and Robin teased him about it at every chance she got.

"It's just a movie, Steve, why are you freaking out?" She questioned, "We hung out with Eddie before, and you always enjoyed it. You know better than anyone else, that he's not what the town makes him out to be."

"I know that, Rob. That's not the issue, it's just different this time and I don't know how to explain it. Like it's been a year since all that crazy shit happened and I'm still adjusting to having Eddie around more."

"Do you not want to hang out with him anymore?" she moved around the store sorting tapes while they spoke.

"No!" he said louder than he meant to. "No... I like hanging out with Eddie, he's fun. It just feels different. I don't know how to explain it."

"Well, you have all the time in the world to figure it out. Now that the world isn't ending anymore you can think about whatever it is you're feeling and deal with it when you're ready."

He nodded; she was right. There was no rush to figure his stupid thoughts out, all he had to do was get through tonight. He was nervous for some reason and kept wondering who would be there, would Eddie have invited Nancy and Jonathan as well?

He didn't know if he wanted an answer to that question right now. Being unaware was a blessing in certain situations.

Steve stepped into Eddie's new trailer and settled down beside Robin, a smile plastered on his face as he turned to Nancy and Jonathan who were squeezed together on a love seat. The government helped clear Eddie's name and gave him and his uncle a brand-new trailer in a more reserved side of town. It was bigger and it was fully furnished so it quickly became their hang out when they wanted to escape reality for a bit.

Steve raised a brow at Robin when Vickie made her way into the trailer after them.

"Did you know she was coming?"

Robin leaned closer and whispered her response, "yeah. I invited her. Hope you don't mind?"

Steve shrugged, "of course I don't mind. I'm glad you finally upped your game, Rob." He teased.

"Shut up. You can't even get a date." She bit back, motioning for him to scoot over so Vickie could squeeze in the seat beside her.

Eddie came back into the room with beers for everyone and a few rolled up joints, he passed the beers around and sat next to Steve.

"Hope you don't mind our medicinal addition, it helps mellow us out a bit" he said to Vickie, a charming smile on his face.

Steve felt a tinge of jealousy shoot up within him when Vickie giggled and told him she didn't mind at all. It was stupid of him to get jealous over something that simple, but he managed to convince himself that he was only pissed because Eddie shouldn't be putting moves on Robin's date.

Eddie noticed the look on Steve's face, his brows all scrunched and the slightest pout to his lips. He looked adorable, like an angry kitten, Eddie wanted to kiss that stupid little pout away.

He always had a slight crush on Steve "The Hair" Harrington. Who didn't? Steve was hot, with his perfect hair, those big brown eyes, that amazingly toned body and that gorgeous smile that he flashed Eddie with whenever Eddie teased him too much. Steve was perfect and Eddie struggled daily to keep his feelings in check. He didn't want their blossoming friendship to fall apart simply because he couldn't keep it in his pants. Plus falling for straight men was a big no in the Munson doctrine so he had to stick to his rules and keep whatever playful banter they had going on extremely platonic.

Although a little teasing never hurt and seeing Steve blush was always worth it, so he leaned forward and whispered, "Is that jealousy I'm detecting? Wipe that pout off your face. Vickie's got nothing on you, big boy."

Steve felt his face heat up and bit back the smile that threatened to pull at his lips. His stomach did an entire back flip at the tone of Eddie's voice. The hairs on his neck stood up as his breath hit his skin. His entire body went rigid as the words big boy slipped out of Eddie's mouth again. This was the first time Eddie had said it since the upside down and somehow it felt more intense now, it felt different.

Eddie Munson would be the death of him and based off the smug smirk on his face, he definitely knew what he was doing.

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theaawalker · 2 months

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Thanks for the advice! I'm trying not to geek out rn, but holy shit! Hope you have a great week, and hope to shake hands someday.

Hello, Mr. Gaiman. Fat chance you'll see this, but do you have any advice for aspiring trad authors? I wanna be peak successful. Really leave my mark on the writing community & the world. How would I go about doing that? Could you break it down in, say, ten steps? Or perhaps just share some words of wisdom?

1) write your own books. Don't try to be like anyone else.

2) Write your own books. When you finish writing a book, start the next one.

3) Write your own books. Don't worry about the rest of the writing community only about yourself and what you make

4) write your own books. It's not a competition.

5) write your own books. Say the things only you can say.

6) Write your own books. Don't get bogged down in the commercial success or failure of a book in the long term. All that matters is the artistic success or failure of what you made.

7) Write your own books all the way to the end. So many frustrated and failed writers don't get through step one, where they finish writing books people might want to read.

8) write your own books.

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theaawalker · 3 months

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HEARTCRUSHER! [Mike Schmidt x fem!reader]

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Song Inspo: Washing Machine Heart by Mitski Word Count: 1,053 Summary: You have a terrible secret by which you confide in Chica. What happens when that secrets is revealed? Will the man of your dreams let you down gently or crush your heart? Warnings: slight slowburn Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

I sighed unhappily as I sat on the edge of the show stage, swinging my legs as I pondered my thoughts. I was so lost in my mind that I didn’t notice the blonde girl approaching me until she was right in front of me.

“Hey Y/N!” I jumped at her voice and she giggled, giving me a hug.

“H-Hey Chica! Sorry for zoning out there, but I wasn’t expecting company. I thought you’d be making pizzas again.” The girl giggled and jumped up beside me, excitedly gripping onto my arm.

“Well, Mike was getting worried- he has been in the office playing card games with Foxy, Bonnie and Freddy, and every time he looked up you were just sitting here staring off into space. He wondered if it was girlie issues and asked me to come and see if you were alright.” Chica explained, wrapping an arm around me.

“W-Well, there is something wrong… I-I like someone-“ Chica squealed in delight “-But I don’t know whether they like me back.”

“Who is it?” Chica whispered, eyes wide as she gripped my hand in excitement.

“M-Mike…” I whispered, scared he’d hear me on the cameras. Chica shrieked and began jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

“OMG! OMG! OMG! THIS IS AMAZING! YOU HAVE TO ASK HIM! IF YOU TWO GET TOGETHER NOW I WILL EXPLODE! NOTHING EVER HAPPENS HERE AND NOW SOMETHING MIGHT AND OMG YOU HAVE TO ASK TO ASK HIM, I CAN’T!” She collapsed into a squealing mess on the floor, and I looked at my watch, moaning when I realized it was only three am and I’d already broken Chica.

“Chica, keep your voice down, he might hear!” I hissed, and the blonde looked up at me, eyes shining and a big smile covering her face.

“Come, you can ask him now!”

“No! I mean, what if he doesn’t like me back? Things would get really awkward around here.”

“Well, I think he does love you back. Whenever you aren’t here, he talks about you constantly. For example, you know at Christmas when you were ill? He was worried sick about you; kept pacing around and whispering about how he should be with you and helping you, not in a rotting pizzeria. So go and tell him your feelings- I’ll come with you for moral support.” I smiled weakly at my best friend and linked arms with her, walking up to the office, my nerves building with every step.

“Heya, boys!” Chica called, giving the group of males a slight wave.

“Hello, Chica! What can we do for you ladies?” Freddy greeted, standing and giving us both a kiss on our hands.

“I have something to tell Mike…” I murmured quietly, and Freddy raised his eyebrow before signaling to Foxy and Bonnie to leave. “We will leave you in peace- you seem very nervous, so it is probably a private matter.”

“Thank you, Freddy.” The bear smiled and walked out, Chica winking at me and following him out. Mike gave me a small smile as I sat down opposite him, nervously fiddling with my hands.

“What did you need to ask me?” He asked, gathering up all the cards and tidying them away.

“W-Well… C-Can I just say that I appreciate your concern, and that you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.” Mike ducked his head and I saw a blush on his face; I knew he hardly ever expressed his feelings, but decided to carry on anyway. “But, I just… I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” At this sentence, Mike looked up, panic in his blue eyes.

“What?”

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore. If it’s alright with you, I was wondering if you wanted to be my boyfriend…” My voice grew quieter towards the end, but I knew Mike had heard me just fine as his eyes had widened and his mouth was hanging open.

“I… I-I…”

“You know what, forget I asked.” I muttered, standing up and moving to rush out of the office. A hand grabbed my wrist and stopped me, and I was flung back, falling into Mike’s body. I was then spun around so I was facing him and before I had chance to from a coherent thought a pair of lips were on mine, a hand on the back of my head stopping me from pulling away. When I got over the shock I realized that Mike was kissing me, and I slowly closed my eyes, placing my hands on his chest and kissing back, feeling a warmth spread though my entire body. I felt Mike relax and the hand that wasn’t tangled in my hair wrapped around my waist, so that our bodies were touching in every way possible. We fell into an easy rhythm and I melted against him, all sense of thought leaving my brain. When we pulled away we were both out of breath and both blushing hard.

“I love you Y/N... I have for a while, but as you know I’m not good at expressing my emotions, so I never thought I would tell you, but I do. I love you.” I smiled at his words and wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his neck.

“I love you to, Mike. And I don’t care if you don’t show your love much, because that’s what makes you, well, you, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.” He gave me a shy smile and kissed my forehead, both of us still intertwined in the other’s arms.

“OMG I KNEW IT! BONNIE YOU OWE ME YOUR GUITAR!”

“… God damnit Chica…” Bonnie muttered from the other door, both Mike and I jumping away from each other and seeing the other animatronics surrounding the doors.

“WE’VE BEEN SPOTTED! ABORT MISSION!” Chica shrieked, both her and Bonnie running away.

“I’m so sorry about those two… But congratulations you to! It’s about time something happened around here.” Freddy stated before walking off, leaving Mike and I embarrassed and confused.

“So… what now?” Mike asked, and I smirked.

“In the morning, you are taking me out for breakfast and we can have our first date.” I stated and Mike chuckled, pulling me in for another kiss.

“Whatever you say Doll, whatever you say.”

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theaawalker · 4 months

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His Little Lamb [ HARRY OSBORN ]

chapter II. friends

Pairing: Harry Osborn x Demetra Jones Series: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Song Inspo: Perfect by One Direction Word Count: 1,001 Summary: Demetria Jones is your classic model citizen. Smart, helpful, organized, sophisticated, and above all innocent. But that changes when she gets a new boss, Harry Osborn. She's not looking for trouble, but that might be what she's in for. Unless, maybe, she can change Harry... that is, if he doesn't change her first. Warnings: mentions of workplace abuse, forced proximity Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

I did as Harry... I mean... Mr. Osborn requested and documented every file on the list. I hadn't seen him since his departure at the board meeting yesterday. Nevertheless, I wanted to make sure I actually did my job. So I stopped by his office and dropped off said paperwork. Much to my annoyance, he wasn't in there. It was his second day as CEO of OsCorp and he hadn't even bothered to show up.

This was gonna be a long day.

I marched out of his office to the elevators and began to dial Menken. He was in charge whenever Norman was gone, which usually meant an occurrence of verbal harassment for me. I knew with Harry's absence I couldn't get any work done because I had no further orders. I considered following my usual orders, but those existed under Norman Osborn's authority. Now that his son was in charge, I had no sense of direction. Which was ironically proven when I then bumped into one of the elevator doors.

I pushed the bottom button and put the phone to my ear. As I waited for the doors to open, I listened to my phone ring before going to voicemail. So I hung up and proceeded to dial again as the doors finally opened and I boarded. Once again it rang and there was no answer. I groaned, removing the phone from my ear. Then suddenly...

"Hi again!" Said a voice from behind me, making me jump. I covered my mouth mid-scream and quickly spun around to see the source. Low and behold, it was Harry Osborn. "I'm sorry." We both apologized.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He spoke first, extending his hand to me worrisomely.

"No, no. It's fine." I gasped as I clutched my heart. "My fault. I didn't see you."

He watched me catch my breath, his eyes a sparkly turquoise from the luminous rooms behind the elevator glass. "I'm... I'm Harry Osborn." He introduced himself, putting a hand on his chest.

"Yeah, I know who you are." I cleared my throat, my voice now professional. "I was in the board meeting."

"That's right, you were the one I promoted." Harry beamed as he recalled the memory.

I chuckled. "Oh, yeah. Like you were serious." I waved him off.

"Actually, yes." He stated rather authentically. I stared at his face and sure enough it read seriousness. And here I was trying to get ahold of Menken because I thought he was still my superior. Harry must've seen the shock in my face because he began to smirk. I suppose he was amused by the impact of his own power.

"What's your name again?" He asked, nodding to me.

"Demetria. Demetria Jones." I lifted my head as I reintroduced myself.

"Demetria..." My name flew out of his mouth with an unnecessary softness. Harry tilted his head and bit his lower lip, still smirking. I gulped as I stared at its pinkness under his teeth, not sure what else to do. "Tell me, Demetria." He continued. "What's a little lamb like you doing in a wolf den like OsCorp."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by the question. But.. did he seriously just call me a 'little lamb'?

"Uhhh, well, for one, I enjoy my work here. I was a huge fan of your father's. I can appreciate a business that's working to make the world a better place. And, uh, I good salary never hurt anyone." I joked, shrugging.

Harry just stood there and listened, not uttering a word. And once I was done, he nodded. "So you were a fan of my father? Well, that makes one of us." I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so I didn't say anything. For a moment, both of us were silent.

Then Harry leaned off the wall and stepped towards me. We were now standing face-to-face a foot apart. He wasn't that much taller than me, perhaps an inch or two. However, height-wise our eyes actually aligned perfectly. That being said, I still felt his presence hovering over me. "Since I'm your boss now, we should keep in contact." He gestured to my phone.

I could feel his warm breath on me as he spoke, and I wondered if he could feel mine. "Um, sure." I responded before punching in his number as he recited it to me. Once he was done, I hit save to make it official.

"I look forward to working you, Demetria." Harry said, making my fingers freeze. I gazed away from my screen and looked at him. I wasn't sure if he had gotten closer, but it certainly felt like he did. He wore a blank expression with his mouth hanging slightly agape. His marble eyes stared into mine, and mine into his. Neither one of us said anything, which was strangely comforting. We stayed like that for what seemed like awhile.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, making us break eye contact. In an instant, what was once comfortable had now become awkward. We exchanged embarrassed glances as Harry slowly backed up and I gathered myself to leave. "Nice seeing you, Mr. Osborn." I gave an awkward smile and stepped out.

"Call me Harry." He raised an eyebrow, smirking suggestively. "We're friends now, aren't we?"

Then, as if on cue, the doors closed, leaving me completely stunned and confused. I wasn't quite sure of what had just happened, but I didn't have time to process it because my phone started to ring. Without reading the ID, thoughtlessly I answered it.

"Hello? Who is this?" Menken huffed into the phone.

"...Demetria Jones," I replied, my eyes glued to the elevator.

"Oh." He groaned before pausing. "...Well, what do you want?"

With a big smile and a bolt of realization, I told him exactly what I wanted. "Kiss my *ss!"

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theaawalker · 4 months

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His Little Lamb [ HARRY OSBORN ]

chapter I. meeting

I thankfully made it to the meeting on time. Taking my seat in the far-off row to the right, I took out my work tools and set them out accordingly on the meeting table. It was so weird being back here after Mr. Osborn's death. Ever since the tragedy we've all taken some time to 'mourn.' But, to be honest, I'd rather much be at my job, working it off, than off partying at a club or sulking at home over my deceased boss.

As the board room started to fill up, I started to get nervous. At any time my new boss could come through the door, and I hate not knowing when. Based on the news, Norman's son, Harry Osborn, will be taking over as CEO of Oscorp. My feelings are still undecided, but I have this ache in my gut that says he's trouble. I spent all night doing research on him, and apparently, his father shipped him to boarding school at eleven and since he's gotten out he's been nothing but a modeling playboy.

If this is true, then I've got my hands full here.

I checked my watch; he was two-minutes late. Everyone else was there but him, even Menken, who would be sitting on his right at the end of the table. I've never been late for anything, so I'm not impressed. Finally, in walked a young man with a brown comb-over, blue eyes that were lit up like reflecting marbles, pointy ears, and pale skin that matched his pink lips. To fit his appearance, he was also acquiring a dark blue suit, grey vest, and a brown tie. As he took his seat at the beginning of the table, I wondered how one guy can pull off so many colors. Then I remembered he was with a model.

This was him, this was Harry Osborn.

"Harry," Menken started once Harry was seated, "OsCorp's been under intense public scrutiny in the wake of Dr. Connor's recent uh... breach of trust."

Harry twirled some kind of drive in his hand as he replied. "You mean people are pissed off cause he tried to turn everyone in New York City into giant lizards."

Menken paused, as if he was about to disagree but changed his mind. "Given that...all the animal hybrid programs he was involved in were destroyed to restore investor confidence."

"Ah, that is the Osborn way." Harry spun his chair to face Menken. "Whatever's inconvenient around, here just get rid of it, right?"

Still, Menken pushed, "Much of that scrutiny may fall on you now. We felt that plausible deniability was your best option."

"Sure, sure. I get it." The young CEO looked at the drive again. "Twenty-year-old kid, two hundred billion-dollar company. What was Dad thinking? I mean, you're all lawyers, right?" He looked around the room, earning awkward looks. "Surely someone must have questioned his sanity in the end." This time he was speaking indirectly to Menken, and everyone knew it. "Someone must have thought about having him declared legally incompetent, it would have made this conversation a lot easier..."

"Harry..." Menken started but was quickly interrupted.

"It's Mr. Osborn." Harry sternly corrected him. "We're not friends." I didn't have to be near them to know they were giving each other hateful looks. I scooted closer to get a better look at their expressions, and, with my entwined fingers, accidentally knock my pen off the table.

'Dang!' I internally said. I slowly lowered my head in a pathetic attempt to cover it up. A cold, lasting ache echoes through my stomach as I feel eyes from all directions fall on me. I hoped they'd be professional and just carry on, but, of course, that wasn't the case.

"Hi," Harry's voice sang. I looked up and there, sitting in the first chair, was my future boss. He stared into my eyes with a smile that only grows when he sees all of my face. I was wearing my glasses, so I could only imagine how nerdy I looked. "You were my father's economic analyst, right?"

"Mm-hmm." I nod.

"What's your name?" He asked, using a not soft but low tone. Almost like a snake talking to its prey.

"Demetria," I replied, refusing to speak back in the same tone.

"Demetria..." he repeated. And what came next, made my heart skip a beat. "From now on, everybody at this table works for Demetria, because Demetria works for me. Would anyone like to speak up?" An uncomfortable silence spread around the board room table. "Well, good. Then you can all keep your jobs a little longer."

Just then, a man, I'm guessing his butler, entered to speak to Harry. They were whispering and were hard to hear from my distance. But by the look on Harry's face, it wasn't something he had expected. I sensed a bit of remorse, and even sadness, in his face.

To mask it, he returned the topic to me. "Demetria, I want to see every file on this list. Every single one." Harry got up and followed the butler out of the room. And just like that, he was gone.

| EARLIER THAT WEEK |

I had had such a rough morning, which is a rare thing for me. Usually, I'm fresh and ready to tackle the day. But today was different, my boss, Norman Osborn, was dead. He was actually my idol growing up. I always saw him as like a king of a castle, and I suppose I was lucky enough to work in it while he was alive.

But now that he's gone, things are gonna be different around Oscorp. There is no doubt in my mind walking through those doors is gonna become a burden in a matter of weeks.

Just as I neared the elevators, and spotted an open one, I bumped into Alistair Smythe the douchebag, making my shoulder bag slip from my grasp and onto the floor. "Watch it, Jonesy!" He scolded. I was quick to pick up the stray papers and skidded to the elevator. "Oh, hold that!" To my surprise, someone holds the elevator doors open for me. "Thank you, you're a gentleman. Most people would have just let the doors close."

"Yeah, well, most people don't notice other people." He said, which I found very true.

"What floor, please?" K.A.R.I, the automated elevator system, requested.

"Um, sixty-three..."

"I got it," said the stranger. "What is it?"

"Uh, sixty-three," I told him, which he repeated to K.A.R.I.

"Thank you," I said once again.

I thought that was gonna be the end of our discussion, but he bickered on. "Um...I'm uh...Max. Max Dillon."

"I'm Demetria. Nice to meet you." I said as our eyes met.

"Nice to meet you." He replied uneasily. I could tell he wasn't used to attention.

"Is it your birthday?" I referred to the flyer in Max's hand.

"Oh, yeah! Well, I...a friend of mine made this flyer. I'm having a birthday party in a big club, a lot of celebrities." It didn't take a trigonometry major to know he was fibbing.

But, out of pity, I played along. "Wow."

"I would like to invite you, it's just that the guest list is closed." I doubted that completely.

"Oh, got it. Well, thank you, anyway." I see Max notices the news on the elevator monitor about Spider-Man saving people from a fire. I'm personally not a big fan, but admire his heroism and watch as well.

"It must be cool, huh?" He commented. "To have the whole world look at you like that. You know, Spider-Man saved my life one time. Out of all the people in the whole city, he saved me." He put a hand to his chest as if honored. "He said he needed me."

"Sounds like a nice guy." I've never met Spider-Man before because I prefer not to get involved with complicated situations. But I doubt I'll need saving anytime soon. I mean, it's not like I'm in danger... at least not anymore.

"Floor sixty-three," K.A.R.I announces just as the elevator stops and the doors open.

"Oh, it was nice to meet you, Max." I give him one last glance before stepping out of the elevator and heading down the hall to the board room.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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theaawalker · 4 months

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His Little Lamb [Harry Osborn x OC]

ACT I. Snippet "What's your name again?" "Demetria. Demetria Jones." "Tell me, Demetria, what's a little lamb like you doing in a wolf den like OsCorp?" -- HARRY OSBORN, DEMETRIA JONES

ACT II. Synopsis Demetria Jones is your classic model citizen. Smart, helpful, organized, sophisticated, and above all innocent. But that changes when she gets a new boss, Harry Osborn. She's not looking for trouble, but that might be what she's in for. Unless, maybe, she can change Harry... that is, if he doesn't change her first.

ACT III. Cast Dane Dehaan as Harry Osborn (aka the boss) Cara Delevingne as Demetria Jones (aka the employee) Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker (aka the superhero) Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy (aka the best friend) Jamie Foxx as Max Dillion (aka the coworker) Joel Kinnaman as Cole Blanchard (aka the ex-boyfriend) Colm Feore as Donald Menken (aka the a-hole attorney)

ACT IV. Chapters chapter i | chapter ii | chapter iii | chapter iv

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theaawalker · 4 months

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You combine my two fixations (Nirvana & Scott Pilgrim) then I am obligated to reblog. Damn you...

Nirvana in Scott Pilgrim style!

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theaawalker · 5 months

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A Run For Your Money [Eric x Reader]

Pairing: Eric x gender-neutral!reader Song Inspo: One Dance by Drake ft. Justin Bieber Word Count: 2,004 Summary: A new Dauntless initiate, y/n, captures Eric's attention. As trouble follows you, Eric is always nearby with a keen smirk. But you won't go down without a fight, promising to give the brutal faction AND instructor a run for their money. Warnings: violence, fighting, mentions of death Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

Bam! Bam-bam, bam!

You are by yourself in the initiate training room beating on a punching bag. Today is one the rare days off that initiates get, and you chose to spend your time training. You made up your mind to transfer to this faction, so you did't intend to ease up on your pursuit until you make the cut. It seems that a group of female initiates were attracted by the punching sounds and have come to investigate. After seeing you, one of them attempts to show you how it's done.

Jace is bigger than her friends; one would assume that she was Dauntless born had the classes not been separated. She picks you up and throws you to the side, ready to set an example. You come back, jump and hock a leg around her neck, flipping her on her back to the ground. You land in a crouch, "Come on dude, don't be an asshole."

It's obvious that she nor her friends expected you to take her down. They thought that you would be intimidated like most of the other initiates, but Jace didn't hold her surprise for long.

"Well, that was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome." She pushes off the floor and hops to her feet. You rise up with her as they meet for a handshake.

"Jace, Candor."

"Y/N." You turn away from her to go drink from your water bottle. Jace watches you for a moment.

"Which faction are you from, Y/N?" She asks. You blink and drink from your bottle before setting it back down.

"That's not important." You say. Jace isn't satisfied with your answer and is about to ask you another question.

"I couldn't agree more." The girls stiffen and jerk around to face Eric, posted up like a soldier with a sadistic glare in his eyes. "Do any of you want to explain to me why you're not downstairs?" His voice is menacing and full of authority. Jace and her friends look at each other confused. One of them tries to respond, but she's a stuttering mess.

"Bu-but w-w-we uh, I thought um.. I mean, we uh-."

Eric, having heard enough, cuts her off, "Got it. I'll give you a chance to make it down there, and you'd better make it before I get back down there." The girls scramble past him and rush down the stairs. You hadn't moved, choosing to remain silent until they had gone.

"Isn't today our day off?" You look at Eric expectantly. You aren't surprised when he starts grinning at you.

"Correct." He's walking towards you while shrugging off his jacket.

"Then why did you scare them away?" He smirks at the question and sets his jacket down near your water bottle.

"I'll be your sparring partner for today." You blink slowly.

"Alright."

2 hours later, you and Eric are both sweaty on the mats, breathing heavily as you stretch together.

"Thanks for the workout." Eric was impressed with you, and he's looking forward to welcoming you into Dauntless.

"No problem, I really enjoyed it. Thank you." You didn't expect the offer, but you appreciated it. Eric isn't known to associate with initiates outside of making sure Four is training them properly. So, while surprised that he wanted to spar, you weren't going to say no.

He nodded his head at you, grabbed his jacket and walked away. You watched him leave, strutting out of the training room with such confidence. He didn't even look like someone who'd been in a fight. You honestly feel inspired. One day, you're going to really give him a run for his money.

[ time skip - visitng day ]

When visiting day rolls around, Eric doesn't see his source of amusement. He wanders into the training room to see you finishing a set of pull ups. He stands in the entry way watching you come down to stretch. You bend down to the front, holds it, and then bend back into a back-bend.

You see him but don't say anything. You don't know how long he's been standing there watching, but since he didn't say anything neither will you. You take a few minutes to quickly stretch your body before picking up your water bottle and walking away. You almost makes it past him, but he stretches out an arm to stop you.

"Not so fast." You aren't looking at him, but he's looking at you. "Why aren't you down there with everyone else?"

"There's no one down there for me." You walk around him, and he lets you go. He sees that you're upset, but it isn't his place to comment on it.

[ time skip - next day ]

Early the next morning, Eric comes across you doing laps around the training room. You pause at seeing him there.

"You want to run?" You nod, your chest heaving with your breathing. "Come with me." You look around, unsure if you should follow him.

"I have training in an hour." He smirks at you.

"I'll make sure you're back in time." You nod again and follow him.

They run to a cliff spot with a full view of the sunrise. You hadn't watched the sunrise since being in Dauntless; you missed it. You wonder if this could be a regular thing for you again.

"Ready to head back?" You nod. "Can I come here every morning?" He regards you for a moment before replying.

"If you remember the way."

They jog back together and make it just in time for Four's class. You head over to join the other initiates lined up. Eric walks past them, ignoring Four completely as he heads to take a shower.

The next morning, you're running back to the Dauntless compound, coming back from your sunrise viewing. You're definitely going to make it part of your routine to run there in the mornings. Halfway back to the compound, you see Eric running toward you. You pass each other, making eye contact but not exchanging words or stopping.

[ time skip ]

Despite their rocky start, you and Jace form a competitive friendship. You're often seen sparring with one another, or with Jace's friends. With individual training, you two are always trying to out-do the other. Friendly competition became a great way for the both of you to become and maintain high ranks among the initiates.

Lately, Four has the group randomly paired every day for mock fights in the ring. Somehow, you always get paired with one of Jace's friends. You haven't lost a fight yet thanks to all the practice you had with Jace. The friend, Byron, was the biggest initiate of the class, so taking down anyone else was easier for you. Bruised, blustered, and bloodied, you managed to beat him. Even Four was impressed, with Eric nodding and smirking like he predicted your victory. Byron seemed pissed as he limped back to his spot. The fact of Jace teasing him didn't make it any better. Perhaps that was the catalyst that led to this unfortunate event.

[ time skip - that night ]

You were already in bed while everyone else was at dinner. You're an early riser which also means you're an early sleeper. That particular day had tired you out more than usual, so you slept heavy enough for someone to pick you up, cradle-style, and carry you away.

The culprits? Three men disguised in all black and ski masks who tried to dump you over the chasm.

One of the Dauntless members on the cameras sees them. He's in the camera room watching them almost drop you over until you wake up suddenly. Kicking and punching, you swing around on the railing to kick one of your attackers in the head. He hits the back wall and falls unconscious. One of them somehow is shoved over chasm railing, while you punch the other one in the throat and head until they fall. You snatch off the masks of the remaining two, and your face crumbles. Hurt and betrayed to see two of Jace's friends. You recognize Byron, and knee on the other one's dick. He tries to cover himself, but you kick his head, hammering down on it with both feet. As a floored Byron and his accomplices groan, you spit on him as a final assault before you stagger up and stalk off.

Four and Eric coincidentally show up in the camera room while this fight was taking place. Four notices that particular camera feed as he glances around the room when he first walks in. He immediately zeroed in on it, coming closer as he sees the victim, who he recognized as you, wake up and fight off their assailants. Four flips out, snapping at the guy sitting in front of him for not reporting this.

Eric, at seeing Four agitated, walks over behind him to see you in action. He finds it humorous, not caring at all about the sorry excuse for an initiate that fell over. Lucky him that he died before Eric could get to him. Those other two would pay dearly for what they just attempted, then maybe after he's done with them will he allow them to die.

Four tries to go to the chasm, but Eric tells him to take care of the guy in front of him first. "It's over now; I'll take care of them."

Eric tells the swarming Dauntless members to get those two initiates in a holding room until he gets there. Eric left the room in search of you, but he couldn't find you. Unbeknownst to him, he passed your hiding spot -- a hallway vent -- several times, but you didn't want to reach out to him. You saw a mix of other Dauntless members and initiates milling around, and you didn't trust them. So, instead, you tucked yourself deeper into your hiding hole and slept.

[ time skip - the next morning ]

You return to your bunk after you've calmed down. Jace tries to approach you, but you flinch away from her. Who's to say she didn't orchestrate the attack? Shortly after, Four, with Eric right on his heels, sped into the room. He's relieved to find you there, and he asks if you could come with them.

You're called to a meeting with the Dauntless leaders, the parents of the dead boy, and for some reason, Jeanine Matthews. The child's mother accused you of killing her son.

"Your son tried to kill me." His mother vehemently denied it, until she's shown the video feed. Then, she flips her argument.

"But you're not dead, now are you?" You, done with the conversation already, looks over at her.

"Let me guess, you'd rather I be dead."

"Yes!"

"Tough." You turn your head, dismissing her.

Eric is full-on grinning as the mother is short circuiting. Jeanine, ever observant of Eric and his mannerisms, notices Eric's interest in you. Thus, Jeanine also takes an interest in you. Reviewing in her mind the initiate's combat skills, she shifts her eyes over to you, who is busy staring out of the window. You could be another Eric, a great soldier to carry out her plans.

After much debate, mainly from the parents' end, you are dismissed. Due to the video evidence of the boy being involved with trying to kill you, and that he was actually bumped over by one of the boys, you are exempt from any punishment.

After the meeting, Jeanine pulls Eric to the side. He instead takes her to his office to hear what she has to say. She asks Eric what he thinks of you, to which Eric responds with a mediocre answer. He doesn't want you involved in this, but it seems his tactic isn't working. Jeanine doesn't buy it after seeing the video, and she gives Eric instructions to introduce you to the plans and get you working under him. After, she excuses herself and leaves him alone to his thoughts.

After lunch, Four escorts you to Eric's office. Four warns him not to be mean to you, and Eric tells him to get the fuck out of his office. During your meeting with Eric, he tells you the rundown of what's going to happen after you've passed your initiation. He doesn't go into too much detail, in case you have too much of an adverse reaction.

After he's done explaining, you're blunt with him, "That's stupid." Eric looks at you, but you keep your eyes on his computer and continues, "It doesn't make sense. She wants to kill people to keep the peace. And these serums, it sounds like some mind control scheme."

You look at Eric. He sees that you're smart enough to pick up on what he didn't say.

"You don't believe her, right?" You ask him. "You know that she wants to make everyone, except a select few, into mindless slaves that do whatever she wants while she rules over everything. You know that she wants a dictatorship and not peace, right?"

You pause for a moment to hone in on his unfazed expression. "Or maybe you do know, but you don't care." You look at him for a few more moments before leaning up and looking away, taking a stroll around his office.

He contemplates life while you busy yourself with looking around his office. How didn't he think about what life would be like with everyone under her new serum? He thought that he'd be done with Jeanine, and he could do whatever he wanted with Dauntless. He didn't care about the other factions. He really doesn't care about the people, but there's not much enjoyment in bossing around mindless slaves who are programmed to do what they're told anyway. How weird it would be to walk down the halls and pass people that aren't really there. Yes, there'd be no more people to piss him off, but there'd be no idiot to amuse him either. No one to hold a conversation with; no one to ignore for being stupid; and no one to threaten and watch them cower.

At that moment, he realizes that he would be bored and alone with not a soul for company other than Jeanine and her lackeys. He grimaces at the thought and sees how unpleasant it would be. He feels ignorant for not seeing the whole picture and not thinking ahead. He's going to rectify that.

[ time skip ]

It took Eric a few weeks to get together his evidence of Jeanine's crimes and organize a trial in Candor. It was unavoidable for some of his skeletons to be exposed, but fortunately, they were overlooked in light of him turning Jeanine in. She was found guilt and set to be executed, which was done by Eric himself immediately after the sentencing.

You passed your initiation ranked #1, with Jace pulling up #2. It took you a while to feel comfortable around her again, but ultimately, it wasn't her who hurt you. Thus, it wasn't fair for you to shut her out. Plus, she physically defended you whenever one of the guys got too aggressive with you, which was a nice plus.

You were also set to start your job working under Eric. The paperwork had already been approved by the time Jeanine's plans were foiled. Also, Eric had taken to courting you. Speaking to you more and spending time with you. He wouldn't date you until after you passed initiation, but now that you had, you and Eric have been together for about 3 weeks now. He was currently taking you to meet his parents for dinner.

Five minutes in, and you were not having a good time. Still, at least there was free food. Eric's mother, Blythe, addressing you, asks yet another insulting question. "So, how long have you been sleeping with my son?"

"Blythe!" Eric and his father shout her name, but you ignore her.

"Not going to answer?"

"No, I don't see how that's any of your business."

Taken aback, Blythe seethes before responding. "My son is my business."

"Yea, you're such a great parent, so supportive of your son's choices." You hear her gasp as you sip your water, not giving her the attention.

"How dare you-"

"That's enough," Eric hisses at her. He's pleased that you're not intimidated by his mother, but he doesn't like her being insulted.

"Are you going to eat that?" Eric asks you, eyeing your plate. You cut the steak and broccoli on his plate and fork it before turning to offer it to him. You have your other hand underneath in case anything falls from the fork. He eyes you again and you blink at him expectantly. He leans in, his eyes boring into yours as he eats off your fork. You turn back to spear more food onto the fork before turning to repeat your actions.

"I can eat my own food." He says while leaning in.

"Then why didn't you?"

As the night goes on, you two pay no mind to his parents. Even though Eric's father seems to genuinely support him, you don't see any sort of relationship blossoming with him or his wife. Yet, judging by Eric's reaction to Blythe, you won't have to worry about pleasing her. Sweet.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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theaawalker · 5 months

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how do i brainstorm my book? I have soooo many ideas but i don't know how to organize them. Do you have any advice? 🙏

Thanks for your query!

Brainstorming ideas for your book is a huge, albeit first, stepping stone. Before I considered I might need to, well, actually plot my plots, my stories always tangled into nonsense or, worse, wound to a close without saying anything much. Why? Because my story brainstorming was off. I would come up with a vague idea and launch into writing; inevitably, the resulting stories lacked sense and depth.

[ ~ through the dark, through the door ~ ]

Although it’s tempting to skip to your favorite part of the process—the writing—you’ll get better results if you decide on a few key elements first. And considering the ease, and speed, with which I wrote my most recent short stories, I’m now convinced this 5-step method is a vital part of the process.

1. Genre

I seem to get into a pickle very quickly if I don’t choose a genre first, because as I write the endless possibilities of plot direction become overwhelming. Genre narrows your options, and that works in your favour.

Writers usually suggest you begin by writing in the genre you read most, and that’s good advice. Occasionally though, by choosing a genre we’re less well-versed in (assuming we read widely in other areas) we can end up bringing a fresh perspective. I don’t read a lot of horror-genre books, so when I wrote my short story Doll’s House, for example, it ended up having a romance-twist that works quite well.

2. Truth

Some people would refer to this step as “theme” but I don’t think that’s clear. Sure, you might be writing a story about a man who collects snails that’s really about the theme of love, but what is it precisely you want to say about the nature of love?

The truth you want to get across could be something detailed as how you think people should behave in an argument or expansive as what you believe happens after we die. It doesn’t matter; what’s important is your truth is something you believe will give the reader something to ponder beyond the action of your story.

Ordinarily, you’ll communicate this idea by the protagonist learning it at some point along their inner journey. In my short story Bitter Lemon, for example, the truth explored is that you don’t have to stay trapped in an unhappy situation: there’s always another way—but only if you’re brave enough to take it.

3. Character

If your protagonist is compelling, your readers will be interested in following their story; that holds true whether they’ve stayed home in a moth-eaten dressing gown for 5 years or they’re travelling the world, expensive leather suitcases in tow.

But what makes a character compelling? Complexity and inner turmoil catch the reader’s attention, because that’s something everyone can relate to.

You can obviously do a deep-dive into your characters by asking yourself everything from their favourite foods to their bedtime, but if you want to work quickly and still make them compelling, ask yourself these 3 questions:

What does your protagonist desire? (This is the thing they think they want or believe will make them happy.)

What are they afraid of? (I.e. what is standing in the way of them achieving their desire.)

What is their misbelief? (What about life or the world do they not yet understand.)

This last point should be the opposite of your truth and will give you the opportunity to explore it by taking your protagonist (or even antagonist) on a journey of self-discovery.

I’m currently writing a short story, for example, where the protagonist desires to be independent after the death of her husband but is afraid of facing the world without him. Her misbelief is that he was the “important one” and that’s she’s nothing without him, but through the story she’ll realise the truth was very far from what it always seemed.

4. Location

Always choose and research a location to anchor your plot ideas; it will literally ground your story.

When I wrote the short story Doll’s House, I spent a lot of time pondering the location: a pair of isolated cabins in remote Scottish woodland. I thought about what birds might be around, what the weather would be like, how cold it might be during the winter season, how the sky would look. Considering this before I started writing helped the story flow.

You could also find collecting images and research about your story location in on place, like for example Pinterest, helps spark inspiration.

5. Mood

Possibly the most delicious step of the process is deciding on a mood for your story. The quickest way to do this is to just pick a few words that you want to characterize the story’s vibe.

This will typically tie in with step 1, genre, but it’s also a chance to experiment. Your contemporary thriller could be tense, exciting and fast-paced but it could also be funny, romantic or heart-warming.

As with location, this is another great opportunity to make a mood board that expresses the feeling of your story. I often even scroll YouTube for an ambient soundtrack that captures my story’s mood.

Some people believe creativity should be unhampered by structure, but I’ve experienced the opposite. Structures like this 5-step brainstorming process provide a framework that helps our ideas flow and, more importantly, ensures they have depth.

Want to Learn More About Writing?

Follow me here (theaawalker)

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I post my fandom imagines, too. Check out my masterlister (pinned), and my latest one here.

Did I mention I'm publishing a book soon?! If you're interested in YA fantasy, fiction, and philosophy, then see my website, newsletter, or email me at [email protected] for updates.

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theaawalker · 5 months

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[date: 12/11/23]

Started planning 2024…

my annual resolutions:

Stop wasting your time; invest it in yourself

Build and grow yourself (physically & spiritually)

Work and overcome your baggage

Journal + take more photos

Make 10k before year's end

Read 12 books

my daily resolutions:

Eat a salad/fruit a day

Stretch every morning & night

Drink 2 liters a day

Stop ingesting negative media

my winter resolutions

Walk 2 miles every Saturday

Apply to psych clinic internship

Begin new job(s)

Create posting weekly schedule

my spring resolutions

Join a club (socialize + make friends)

Start writing 2nd volume

Buy volume 1 CR

my summer resolutions

Upgrade wardrobe

Get passport card & DL

Lift weights every other day

my autumn resolutions

Explore (hot) coffee options

Go to the dentist

[ Kiss a woman ]

˖ ࣪⊹ Have a splendid 2024 everyone! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

credit inspo: @princessmacabre

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theaawalker · 5 months

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Sparks & Sprinkles [Kim P. + Ramona F.]

Pairing: Kim Pines + Ramona Flowers (fluff) Song Inspo: SugarCrash! by ElyOtto Word Count: 1,126 Summary: Kim Pine and Ramona Flowers have a girl's day out: defeating ninjas, eating frozen yogurt, and not talking about Scott Pilgrim. Warnings: violence, use of "slut", mentions of cigarettes Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

Sometimes Kim Pine wonders why she even gets out of bed in the morning. She hates her roommate, Hollie (cheating slut), she has the lamest job in the world (yes,sir, we keep those sorts of DVDs in the back, behind the Transformers display), and the one decent thing in her world, playing drums in the band (We are Sex-Bomb-omb!) has ground to an amazing halt because they are "recording."

She just wants to spend a little time with her best friend's surprisingly cool ex-girlfriend Ramona Flowers (soon-to-be-not-ex if he can pull up his pants and woman up) before they have to meet up with Scott later. A day at the yogurt shop sounded just right. Just Kim & Ramona.

Of course, a gang of ninjas wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Really, jeez, she thinks as she twirls a drumstick around her finger and pokes one of the ninjas in the eye (ZING!), while punching another with a gloved fist (THUNK!) -- is it too much to wish for a bonus level every once in a while, instead of always having to fight toward the big boss at the end?

Ramona obviously feels the same way. Her hair flies back as she scissor-kicks her opponent with a booted foot.

(KPOW!)

"All!" She spins and slices at another in the throat.

(HURK!)

"I!" She cartwheels over to snag a tray.

(WHIRL!)

"Want!" She smacks a girl ninja full-face.

(SLAM!)

"Is!" The girl stumbles back to crash into one of the red plastic tables.

(CRUNCH!)

"A frozen yogurt!"

Kim elbows the last one in the mouth, and he crumples. The ninjas flash like seizure-inducing strobe lights and then disappear. A shower of prize coins hits the table where they left their winter coats. There is a smattering of applause from the other patrons, and then they all go back to their desserts.

Just another day in Kim Pine's Annoying Little Life.

Ramona swipes a hand across her sweaty brow and nonchalantly brushes herself off. Then she walks over to their table and picks up one of the glittering coins. "You want this?" she asks Kim. "I just got paid, so..."

"Yeah, okay." Kim slides the coins off into her hand and then into her pocket. (KACHING! Kim Pine gets $15.79 and 10 exp. points!) No need to go advertising it, but she could use a little extra. Kim jerks her head toward the register. "I'll go get the yogurts. What do you want?"

"They got anything tequila-flavored?" Ramona drawls.

Kim barks a laugh. "You should put in a comment card."

"Then whatever. You choose for me."

"Vanilla, no toppings," Kim says, deadpan. "Don't want the gummy bears to clash with your hair."

Ramona smiles, twirling one pink-dyed lock between her fingers. She gets Kim's sense of humor, unlike Hollie (two-faced slut). "Nice." Ramona says, feigning a lack of sarcasm. "And so thoughtful."

Matching Ramona's sincerity with a bright little nod, Kim slides up to the counter. "One small white chocolate with chocolate chips, and one small vanilla..." She steals a glance at Ramona, who is staring blankly out the yogurt shop window. It's funny. Even with her bright pink hair, Ramona almost seems to fade into the crowd with some unspoken sadness. "...with strawberries."

"Got it." The guy at the register types in the order and then looks pointedly over at the overturned tables to the left.

"What." She gives him a glare. No one picks up at No-Account Video when there's a brawl in the family section except her.

He backs down and shrugs. "Two yogurts, coming right up."

Kim turns her back and doesn't bother to watch him make them. She plays it cool, waiting until he's got the little cup under the noisy yogurt-spewing machine to say, "And don't even think of spitting in them." She doesn't even ruin the effect by turning around again to catch his bewildered, guilty look.

Instead, she watches Ramona.

She's mysterious (Kim likes that), cool under pressure (Kim would give her prize Zildjian to be as cool as Ramona) and fun. Kim doesn't know if it's just the way New Yorkers act, but Kim really enjoys her touch of American badassness in this way-too-Canadian city.

When the yogurts are done, she brings them to the table and sits. Ramona takes her spoon without comment on the strawberries, and digs in, still lost in her own thoughts.

Kim wants to get Ramona out of this sudden funk, but she can't come up with a decent topic of conversation. "Um..." she starts, wincing inwardly. "You... make any interesting deliveries lately?" Then she winces outwardly.

"Huh?" Ramona says, coming out of her daze. "Interesting deliveries? Oh... no, nothing really."

"Still, it's gotta be more interesting than working in a video store." Kim exaggerates a yawn, her plastic spoon hanging from her mouth.

"All right..." Ramona leans forward. "Last month... I almost lit one of my packages on fire with a cigarette."

Kim almost chokes on her spoon. "HAHAHA! How?"

"Guess I shouldn't try to make deliveries the morning after one of Julie's stupid theme parties." She takes another bite of her yogurt. "Too hungover to do two things at once."

"Oh, man, I wish I'd been there to see it...!"

As she's laughing, she sees another freakin' ninja sneak in the side door out of sight of Ramona. Kim prepares to jump up and take him down, but Ramona's hand slips quietly into her purse, and withdraws her giant mallet from the subspace pocket.

With a whirling leap, she smashes the mallet down (THOOM!), just missing the ninja. He jumps over the top of the weapon, sailing above their heads. Kim tries to tackle him to the floor, but Ramona's mallet doubles back and hits the ninja's spine with a satisfying CRACK! He explodes into multi-colored coruscating fireworks.

(LEVEL COMPLETED, 500 bonus points!)

Ramona calmly stuffs the mallet back in her purse. "I almost didn't get that one."

"C'mon," Kim says, completely serious. "You're Ramona Flowers."

The corner of Ramona's mouth turns up. "Guess so."

"Hey, you wanna get some coffee?" Kim asks, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Sure," Ramona says, blowing at a curling strand of pink in her face. "I think we've reached our ninja quotient for the day."

They push their way out of the yogurt shop into the biting winter wind. Kim smiles as the cold starts to numb her ears. Maybe Scott will forget all about this stupid meeting she's secretly bringing Ramona to (he doesn't deserve Ramona, anyway).

She wouldn't mind at all.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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theaawalker · 5 months

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Fandoms I'll Write For

Marvel (not Iron Man, Starlord, Loki, Thor, Doctor Strange, or Hawkeye, Drax, Victor Creed, Antman, Adam Warlocke, AG's Spiderman, or Cyclops)

DCEU (not Peacemaker, Killer Croc, JL's Joker, RP's Batman, or anyone from Gotham except Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska)

Scream Queens (not Chad Radwell or Pete Martinez)

American Horror Story (only Murder House, 1984, Freakshow, and Cult)

Hunger Games (not Gale, Maymitch, President Snow, or Cato)

The Maze Runner (not Ava Paige, Jorge, or Janson)

My Little Pony

Once Upon A Time (not Hook, David, Rumple, Neal, Peter Pan, or Zelena)

Pacific Rim (not the sequel)

Twilight (not Seth, Edward, Carlyle, or Jasper)

Stranger Things (not Will Byers, Billy Hargrove, or Jim Hopper)

IT (2017, 2019, and tv series) (not Henry Bowers or Pennywise)

Jurassic Park/World (not Owen Grady or Ian Malcolm)

Jumanji (1997 & 2017)

Zathura (not the dad or robot)

Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill)

Girl, Interrupted (not Jared Leto's character)

The Black Phone (not the Grabber or Mr. Blake)

Teen Wolf (the film & series)

Equestria Girls

Teen Wolf (not Peter, Jackson, Theo, or Derek)

The Office (not Jim, Ryan, or Dwight)

Now You See Me (not Dylan Rhodes or Merritt McKinney)

Descendants (not Chad, Harry, Ben, Jay, or Carlos)

Sky High (not Zach or Speed)

Percy Jackson films (not Luke Castellan)

The Umbrella Academy (not Five)

TMNT (live action ver. only)

Dance Moms (not the final season)

Ender's Game

Wednesday (not Xavier, Tyler, or the Dean)

Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse (not Mentor Peter Parker)

Unbreakable (not Hedwig or Dennis)

Big Hero 6

The Black Mirror

Dynasty (not Culhane, Adam, or Blake)

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Spy Kids

Sharkboy & Lavagirl

Clue, Knives Out, & Glass Onion

Back to the Future (not Biff), Breakfast Club (not Bender), Sandlot, Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill), Mighty Ducks, The Outsiders (not Dally, Two-Bit, Randy, Bob, Steve, or Darry)

I’m willing to write imagines for underage characters so long as there's no romance (examples: hang out with the Losers Club at the barrens; go shopping with Eleven and Max; play baseball with Finney and Bruce). I’m allowed to deny any request and the longest I should take ever to write one is about 2 weeks. I’ll write smut, fluff, angst, poly relationships, LGBTQ+, etc. Generally most of my x readers are female unless stated otherwise.

What I won’t write-

I won’t write anything to do with rape, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, romance with anyone younger than 18, gun play, anything about poo(sexually), anything about urine(squirting is fine considering it’s not technically urine), age gaps. See guidelines for more details.

Thanks for reading❤️

A.A. Walker

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theaawalker · 5 months

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I Will [Finnick Odair x Reader]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Song Inspo: Meet Me At Our Spot by The Anxiety Word Count: 2,713 Series: 1 | 2 | ? Summary: it's been years since Finnick was reaped. He came out victorious, as you'd prayed he would, but then disappeared from the public eye. It wasn't long before the Capital revisited District 4 for its next competitor. Fast-forward, you're the winner of the 75th Hunger Games, and can barely sleep. When the Capitol unveils its next phase for the Games, you're thrusted back into survival as old habits return... as do old friends. Warnings: cuts, use of blades, surveillance, depression, female rage, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, making out, mentions of sex Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

You've been back for three weeks now. It feels like three years. You are the victor of the 75th Hunger Games. Your life is even worse than it was before your games, which was not meant to be part of the deal. Your entire family was dead. When you refused Snow's offer to make you a prostitute he killed them all. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. Now, you spend your days perched on your windowsill looking down onto the bottom floor, watching the other victors live. It provides minimal comfort knowing just because your life has taken a giant halt no one else's has. The only time you move from this spot is to go to the bathroom. Your legs are so stiff from minimal movement that you must hang onto the wall to steady yourself. You haven't showered. You've barely eaten, discounting canned foods. You're still in the clothes you wore when you arrived back. The only difference was a massive woolly blanket, providing some warmth in your cold, depressing room.

Someone comes over twice a day. You don't know who it is because you never actually look at them, eyes glued on the window. It's not because you're purposely ignoring them, but because you're lost in your own empty nothingness. And, as hard as you try, you can't fight your way back to reality. Whoever it is delivers your food.

Today was different though.

You hear them come in and remove their shoes. You hear them ramble through the kitchen for omething. After a while, their footsteps come towards you. You feel them put a hand on your slump, left shoulder. This is unusual but the difference is that you feel the urge to see who it is. You want to know who has been taking care of me. You want to know. So you find out.

"Welcome back to Earth, my dear." They say seductively with, face blurred by your unused vision.

"Finnick?" My voice all scratchy from no use.

"Wow," the blonde man said, "way to thank your mentor. But, fawn away, my dear!"

A wipe of the eyes reveals their true identity. A blonde man, indeed, but not yours. You've seen him on television during the 74th Hunger Games, often at the hip of its victors Katniss and Peeta.

"I know you."

"I'd sure hope so." Haymitch chuckles, stepping away to some stuff on your bed, his back to you.

"You... you've been helping me?"

"Of course. I couldn't let a pretty, little trainee like yourself starve, now could I?"

"Train for what?"

Haymitch paused. "You didn't see the news, did you?" You slowly shook your head, clutching your blanket. "Oh, jeez." The older man sighed. He grasped his mouth and stood silently, contemplating his next words. Having found them, he knelt in front of you as if you were a goner. "I'm sorry, kid... you're up next."

[ time skip - an hour later ]

An hour. That's how long Haymitch gave you to have a meltdown. You exploded with the pain, anger, and power of a thousand nukes. You obliterated your room - never careing for it anyways. You would've destroyed the building had physics not failed you. While you finished off your rampage with a primal scream, Haymitch waited outside the door and checked his watch.

Then he knocked. "Uh, kid. Time to go." You flung your door open and glared at him, eyes low and insides dead. "Hope you saved some of that rage for your combat."

The two of you head to the bottom floor. The elevator ride is quiet, and anyone who hops on ogles at you. Your hair sticks to your sweaty face. Your eyes are sunken and baggy. Your adrenaline is falling but you're still shivering. You look like a wild cat in captivity; tired, bitter, and vengeful. But worst of all, trapped.

You get to the ground floor and follow Haymitch to god-knows-where. Passing by training victors and their mentors doesn't faze you. You've played this game before. You won. You weren't confident you'd do it again, you just didn't care.

"Let's test out that fire on a target." Haymitch brought you to an assortment table of knives, spears, swords, and blades. He waved a finger across them. "Take your pick."

You grabbed the mezzaluna knife and peeked at your reflection. Your eyes... you'd be scared of you too.

You used to be so sweet and naive. You cared about others, maybe too much. You were selfless, self-conscious, and spineless. Killing people in an arena will take that from you. In a way, one of those victims was the old you.

'Rest in peace,' you thought.

"O-kaaay." Haymitch side-eyed you. "You ough to warm up before-" Your knife hit the bullseye with a sharp thud. "...Or not."

You threw the knife over, and over, and over until your palm sliced open. By Haymitch's advice, you took a breather and sought bandage. First aid wasn't a priority in the training hall, so you had to wander to find some proper wrappings. You didn't care if looking around made you appear clueness, or crazy, or weak.

A permanent "vacation" didn't sound so bad.

On your search, you saw Katniss Everdeen talking to someone by the rope stand. All you could see was his back and blonde hair. 'Peeta looks taller than on tv.' You thought to yourself.

Katniss looked over his shoulder, straight at you. You nodded, and she nodded back, a semblance of respect established. Her boyfriend watched her stare for a moment before turning around. By then you'd already looked away.

As you think about heading back, something within you begs you to stay. To look again, for whatever reason. Having nothing to lose or gain, you turn your head, which takes a lot of energy, and actually look and see who it is. You nearly faint as it's the person you never expected to see.

Finnick Odair.

He's squinting as if to make sure it's you. Then his eyes widen. At the same time, you both start for each other. The announcement feedback rings out, stopping you and him in your tracks. You step back and idle by, moving eye contact to the cement ground.

"Attention, victors. Let me be the first to welcome you," you didn't care to listen to the rest. All your mind could think about was Finnick. You hadn't seen him in almost 6 years, when he was torn from you and reaped. Just when he'd learned you two shared a soul mark. You pulled your sleeve down to hide it, paranoid a councilperson will see and tie you to Finnick. "but most of all, make your districts proud. Happy training! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

You try not to cry as the speaker ceases. Biting your lip, you peek back at Finnick's spot. His chest rises as he's huffing and staring at you, begging to be reunited. He looks so much older and buffer. His tan only complimented his gorgeousness. You had to have him.

But you couldn't, breaking your gaze. Not without drawing suspicion. So you bury alive your longing, conjure the numb beast born in your Hunger Game, and march over.

"Either of you know where to find wrappings?" You said, indirectly talking to Finnick but looking at Katniss. This was your way of tricking the cameras.

"I wouldn't, no." Katniss replied, scanning your body for the injury.

"I would." The man of your dreams said. Katniss looked at him, but you kept staring at her. "There's a kit cabinet, corner-east of the elevator. Should hold you down till the day's over."

You swallow the frog in your throat. It would be the first time you'd spoken to him since the day you lost him... You'd pictured that very moment countless times. The worst of circumstances had delivered. You couldn't even look into his eyes. Those beautiful, sea-foam eyes. You couldn't feel his eyes on you either. President Snow had control of you both, despite being nowhere nearby. It was no secret that man loved two things: using people as pawns and tearing people apart. You'd die before you let him do that to you and Finnick. Not again.

"And what if..." you cleared your throat, "what if I need another wrapping later on today?"

Finnick got quiet, picking up your breadcrumb. "There's a storage closet on the second floor. End of the hallway on the left. No one goes up there. Shouldn't be any eyes on you."

Eyes being cameras or guards, you understood. "Thanks."

Finnick started to say something else, but you walked away. Had you'd stayed any longer, you surely would've broken character and gotten the two of you killed.

[ time skip - later that night ]

Night fell and you were longing for Finnick's touch. Haymitch had finally fallen asleep, proved by his obnoxious snoring across the hall. You threw off your covers, revealing your blue, silk pajamas, and creaked open the door. Left, no one. Right no one. Empty hall. 'Thank God,' you sighed and tiptoed down it. The elevator button dinged and you jumped. You checked behind you, expecting your mentor or a guard. Empty hall still.

The elevator ride felt slower than usual. You lived on the 8th floor, so the 2nd floor shouldn't have taken that long. Then you remembered, making your face freeze and heart stop. There were cameras in the elevators. You curse yourself but evade looking at it. You should've taken the stairs. You hoped Finnick had.

'Finnick...'

The doors opened on the second floor. You walked out, almost robotically, and turned to the hall's end. 'End of the hallway on the left. Storage closet.' Finnick's words echoed in your head. You repeated it like a mantra as you headed that way. You finally got the storage closet door, no sign of entry. You reached for the handle when a dangerous feeling invaded you. You hadn't seen this man in nearly 6 years. You weren't the same, and perhaps so was he.

What if Finnick was deceiving you? 'No.'

What if guards are waiting behind the door?' No, he'd-'

What if Finnick was working with Snow? 'No, he'd never.'

How could you be sure? 'I'll prove it.'

You threw open the door and dove inside. Had you Finnick not caught you, you would've crashed into him. It was dark and dimly lit by a dying lightbulb. You saw illuminated Finnick's outline - his shape, really - but that was all. Not ideal circumstances, but they'd do.

"Y/N..." He was still holding you by the forearms. "Were you followed?" His voice read as serious, edging on emotionless.

"No." You said, hiding your dismay. For a moment, you regretted not bringing your knife. He had a hold of you, ambushed in a dark, small closet, in the middle of the night, and towered over you like Goliath.

Then a flashlight turned on under you. Once you saw his face, all the fear and paranoia dissolved.

"Good." He said charmingly with a sweet, gentle smile resting on his tan, god-like face. Suddenly he drops his Capitol self and you see another person not Finnick Odair but just Finnick. "I missed you s-"

You hugged him like you've never hugged anyone before. He rocked you side-to-side and you squeezed him tighter. You both chuckle as you break apart and look at each other.

"Gosh, Finn. You look so different." You gawked at his, well, everything.

"So do you, Y/NN." Finnick observed you with a sweet smile of disbelief. "Guess running for your life will do that to you." He joked, making you giggle.

Then it grew quiet as cruel reality set in.

You were both murderers. Both slaves to the Capitol. Both stuck inside a world you hate. Both surrounded by people you don't like. Even if he hadn't said it, his face told you. It had affected him too.

Your hands caress his cheeks as you mutter, "I wish things were different."

"I know what you're going through. I understand. And I felt terrible that I left without telling what," he sighed, "what you meant to me. I couldn't help you during your games because the Capitol wanted me to… take care of other business and Mags helped me a lot when I came home. So I should've looked for you, should've helped you, should've tried, because you deserve it."

You were too exhausted to cry. You contemplated aplogizing for not telling him about the soul mark. It happened so long ago that you couldn't recall if you'd said sorry then. When he was reaped and ripped away from you. So, you changed the subject. "You know why he killed my family, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I know why".

"You're a prostitute?"

"...Yes."

"To protect your family?"

"At first like you I refused then he killed my mother. The only family I had that was blood. Then he threatened to kill Mags. So I did it."

"I thought he was bluffing."

"I did too." Then Finnick's eyes fell to the ground, riddled with shame and uncertainty. "So... you don't mind? That I, uh..." his brows furrowed in angered remembrance, "that I'm... what Snow makes me do?"

You finally muster the courage to kiss him. His lips are salty and oh so plump. They mesh with yours perfectly. He grabs your face and deepens the kiss. You pull away to breath, eyes still closed and smiling. You licks your lips, relishing his citrus taste before being pulled into another kiss. Your heads move as your mouths devour each other. Your hands explore his back, sometimes tugging at his tanktop. He slides his tongue across your teeth, begging for permission. You open your mouth wide and let him slip it inside you. You suck on his long tongue and listen to his moans. As you suck and savor his slippery glossa, the idea of sex claws as you. You didn't want to soil the moment by [redacted]-ing Finnick.

Plus, you didn't have any condoms.

You let go of his tongue, which he rolled back into his smirking mouth. He dove in for another kiss but you caught his chest.

"I don't want to do it right away." You told him. You watched his face of arousal disappear, replaced by calm, and an understanding nod.

"I get it." He tucked your hair behind your ear. "We can stop here if you want."

Tears you resented stung your eyes. You bore into his chest, thoughts distant. "I don't think we can."

"Hey, hey," Finnick lifted your face, "what's wrong?"

"We're both victors, Finnick." You sniffled. "Do you really think they're gonna let two victors win again?"

It was true. Peeta and Katniss had gotten lucky. You and Finnick wouldn't be so, not if the Capitol could help it. The love you had would be destroyed, killed in the 76th Hunger Games. Not just the love between you, but one of you... one of you had to die.

"We'll find a way. Listen, listen to me. We will find a way. There's 59 days till the Games. We'll come up with a way to survive. Hide till it's over, fake our deaths, escape - whatever it takes. O-okay?" He plastered a weak yet hopeful smile. He brought your foreheads together. "I'm not losing you again. We just have to have faith. Okay?"

"We can't-"

"Promise me, Y/N. Please." Finnick begged, speaking and breathing softly. "Promise me you'll have faith in me. In us. Promise you will."

Every fiber of your being ignites. Faith didn't exist in the Hunger Games. Precision. Skill. Wit. Violence. Vigilance. Survival. That's what reigned. That's what would get you through the day. You hated doing it that way, but it had worked in the past. What Finnick was asking you was to basically abandon the protocol. To go against logic and defy the future, pretty much ensuring your demise. Could you trust what he was saying, or were your prior suspicions accurate? Could you use that against him, trick him as well? You just knew this wasn't going to end well, whatever happened. But for now, you'd play pretend.

"I will."

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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theaawalker · 5 months

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Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x male!reader Song Inspo: Call Me By Your Name by Lil Nas X Word Count: 1,394 Summary: You've seen Finnick around, often through pitying eyes, but haven't spoken to him. The times you have seen, he's either with a client (flirting) or leaving them (shaking with shame, rage, and disgust). You decide to make him feel something real and mutually pleasurable. Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), emotional build-up, MxM, one-shot, begging, substance usage, cursing, narrator pov Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly) A/N: This is not attached to "I Promise", my other Finnick imagine. The second part will be here shortly. Just adding a little twist to the end. *smirks villainously* In the meantime, here's some gay smut to tickle your tentacles. Peep the easter egg tho ;)

You and Finnick have your first real conversation when he��s arriving back at the Tribute center one night after spending an upsetting few hours with one of Snow’s clients. He’s in a foul mood, anger bordering on despair and self-hatred, still feeling the ghosts of unwanted fingers on his body, when he steps into the elevator and finds you smoking a joint.

"Shit, shit!” you curse, hiding the joint up your sleeve and coughing, waving your hands in the air like you can disperse the smell. “Sorry, someone was smoking in here before,” you lie.

Finnick can’t help himself. He laughs. “Give me a hit and I won’t tell anyone.”

You share the joint in the elevator, not hitting any button to go up to either of your floors. The chatter comes easy with both of you, but it’s not long before you’re stepping over friendly small talk into a genuine conversation about the wild shit you’ve seen in the Capitol and in your case, at home, too. District 2 loves to rub elbows with the Capitol, something you despise. Your comparisons and imitations have Finnick barking laughter.

During one of the lulls in conversation, he takes in your face and form, basking in the fact that he’s responsible for the smile on your face right now. He’d like to get to know you better, and fuck it, maybe he’s a little horny right now, too.

“Come to my floor?” he asks, the joint between his fingers. He takes a slow drag, watching you.

You stare at his lips as he exhales. God, the high must be hitting because all you want to do is cover his lips with yours. Like, it’s the only thought rattling around in your peanut brain. His lips curl into a smile and--Oh, shit. He asked you a question.

“Sure,” you answer.

One expression Finnick identifies all too easily is lust. And he sees it plain on your face. “Then let’s go.”

Finnick leads you to the lounge on the fourth floor, well away from the bedrooms. The giant windows let in light from the Capitol’s nightlife.

“I miss the stars,” you say once you’re both settled next to each other on a loveseat. “It’s not like there are a ton of them back home with all the light pollution, but still. There are more than here.”

Finnick gazes at the dark sky. “You should come to District 4 sometime. You can see the entire Milky Way. And instead of listening to all those cars you listen to the ocean. And you can forget everything for a few moments.”

Despite the lounge being much, much larger than the elevator, this feels far more intimate. Finnick and you face each other, your eyes flicking to his lips. He’s the Capitol sex icon and has always acted like an absolute peacock on camera, but you’ve seen him trying so hard mentoring his own tributes and taking care of Mags. There’s a lot more depth to him than what the cameras show. And you like the bits he shows off camera far, far more. Those bits are coming out tonight; a funny, deeply caring, deeply hurt young man with a vast capacity for kindness.

When he came into the elevator, he looked positively miserable and so, so defeated. Like he had been stomped on and ground down. You wanted to make him smile, a real smile, but then you couldn’t stop at just one, and now here you are. You know about his and Snow’s “arrangement”. You also know you can treat him better than any of the “clients” do even when they’re trying, and you wonder if he’ll let you treat him like that.

Your intense stare has Finnick shifting, feeling a few degrees hotter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally ask, voice low. If there’s one thing being a Career has taught you, it’s to grab at any opportunity you see. Finnick swallows. “Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”

You lean forward and capture his lips, one hand on the back of the couch and the other securely in your lap. You’re close and leaning into him, but not holding him. The restraint surprises him at first. But he’s grateful for it and he relaxes. He sinks into the kiss, his own hands venturing to fist in your shirt collar and hold you there. You let him lead, let him feel your arms and touch your face and chest, but never move your own hands from their position, just pour your all into your lips against his.

The lights flick on. You and Finnick snap apart like a rubber band snapping back into shape. It’s Mags. She looks between you both with wide eyes before a mischevious smile breaks across her face. “No, no, Mags,” Finnick protests.

She winks, grinning, and flicks the lights back off. She exits.

Finnick groans. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

You grin and wink. “Well, if you’re never going to hear the end of it, we may as well make it worth it, right?”

His seafoam eyes lock on yours, an eyebrow lifting. He smirks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “I’d like to suck you off.”

All thoughts leave his head and all blood flows straight to his groin. For once, he’s speechless. No one has ever offered this before. All the people he spends time with want his attention on them, want him to fawn over them, wants him to boost their egos with his attention. And if they did off, he’d wonder what they want in return. Exactly like he’s wondering right now. He should ask, but his brain is too focused on the thought of your lips around his dick. Does he really care what happens after as long as he gets what he wants, first?

At his silence you withdraw. “Only if you want me to, of course,” you add. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable.

“Yes,” he hastily replies. “Yes. I’d love you to suck me off.”

That affirmation is all you need. You kneel in front of him and slowly unzip his pants, revealing plain boxers beneath. Finnick watches you, his heart pounding. With agonizingly slow movements, you touch his length and guide it through the gap in his boxers. He grips the cushions of the loveseat as you lick up the underside of his member, from the base to the tip. Your tongue is deliciously wet. Finally, you take Finnick into your mouth and work him slow, slow, slow. One hand balls into a fist on his leg and the other slips in your hair. He moans, a low sound that barely reaches your ears.

You can’t believe no one has ever done this before. You’ve barely started, and he looks absolutely wrecked and so goddamned pretty. His head falls back against the loveseat and he lets out a shaky breath.

Fisting him, you take your mouth off to quip, “Have I made the Finnick Odair speechless?”

He huffs a laugh, meeting your gaze. “Just wait until I have you on your back and—oh.” His words end in a strangled moan as you suck his head. You ease him a little bit further into the rhythm before you deep-throat him. By then both hands tangle in your hair and he’s whimpering and trembling, muscles taut. “Fuck. Fuck.” It’s so warm, so hot, feels so, so good.

He comes shortly after, cock hot and stiff in your mouth, his entire body rigid. As he comes down from his high he melts into the couch, both his hands gently tugging at your head. “Get up,” he pants. You comply and stand, bracing your arms on either side of his head, and kiss him. There it is again, that restraint.

“Touch me,” he moans. “Please.” He might combust if you don’t.

You obey and cup his cheeks. His hands mimic yours, holding your face to his while you kiss. His stomach feels warm and body completely relaxed, for once completely in the moment, his brain pleasantly quiet.

He opens his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You press your forehead to his, cheeks hot. God, there’s so much you want to do to him, with him, but not tonight. “You can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep,” you answer.

What? He knows he heard you right, but what? “That’s not what I meant,” he says hesitantly. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“I know.” You brush back a lock of his hair. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you or you fuck me and make out well into the morning, you taking care of yourself is what I want the most. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”

Finnick can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “I promise.” He feels almost bashful. How do you know what he needs? Beneath your soft gaze he feels vulnerable and open, and while it’s foreign, it’s not unwelcome.

You smile at him, a brilliant smile that lights up the night. “Thank you.”

You’re thanking him. You just gave him a blowjob and you’re thanking him. Who the fuck are you?

After exchanging a few more minutes of sweet nothings, you leave to head to your floor. Finnick stays on the loveseat a while longer, smiling, watching the twinkling lights of the Capitol. The content expression gradually falls from his face and he sinks into the reality that is his life. At least this has been a sliver of good in what is his constant parade of masking for the Capitol. Maybe he can have a few more of those slivers when you’re around. He’s certainly going to try to grab the chances when they present themselves.

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