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auroralwriting · 16 days

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your beauty never scared me

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

you’re scared no one will ever love and understand you, but spencer always has.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of unrequited love, comfort/angst/fluff, negative self thought, spencer is always a sweetheart, reader has a darker aesthetic

Maybe it was the fact that you came from a broken family from a young age. No, you didn't have a bad childhood, but it wasn't ideal for a young girl growing up.

It could have been the bad high school relationships, full of boys who didn't understand how to treat a young woman. Stuck at their stupid baseball games or waiting for them to finish their video game, sitting alone on their bed waiting for them to finish.

The most likely cause for your fear of love was simply the fear that no one would ever truly understand you, and therefore, never be able to love you right.

If you looked deeper, though, much further past the surface level, deep into the core, you would've realized that Spencer Reid had been there all along.

When you first joined the BAU, Spencer Reid was a typical little nerd, the glasses he wore even fulfilling the stereotype. His rambles about anything and everything were endearing, and lead you to begin your friendship with the man after he told you the history of your favorite movies.

"...its distinctive style with his signature blend of dark humor and whimsy. His imaginative vision, influenced by German Expressionism, is evident in the film’s surreal sets and exaggerated character designs. Burton’s decision to cast Michael Keaton as the chaotic title character and his encouragement of Keaton’s improvisation contributed to the film’s memorable, unpredictable energy. The innovative special effects and makeup, along with the creative set design by Bo Welch, further showcased Burton's unique approach."

By the end of his rant, Spencer had expected you to have been completely focused on anything else, but your eyes were trained on him, a small sparkle flickering in them.

"Spence, how do you know do much about Beetlejuice? You haven't even seen it before." you'd chuckled.

"I think Tim Burton is an interesting director. Maybe we could, uh, see it together sometime? If you want, of course." Spencer awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, the suggestion of the two of you hanging out outside of the work settle rattling his nerves.

You had given him a big smile, beneath your dark clothes and makeup was a heart of white and gold, a truly captivating soul. "I'd love to, Spencer! I own it, so you can come over whenever."

"Whenever sounds good," Spencer paused, thinking about what he had just said. "I mean, Thursday?"

"Thursday it is, boy genius." That name was usually reserved for making fun of Spencer, but the way you said it actually made his heart flutter.

Spencer would've never guessed that the girl, clad in dark clothing, the complete opposite of his own aesthetic, would be interested in hanging out with him. Then, it happened. And it happened again, and again, until you became friends.

Your friendship with the doctor grew. As you got closer, Spencer began to identify your fears and your tells. You played with your hair when you were nervous, bit the skin of your fingernails when you were anxious, tapped your foot or bounced your leg when you were impatient. He began to understand you on a deeper level.

It began to be the same for you. You knew his likes, dislikes, fears and worries. You understood his struggles with his mother and father, how sometimes this job didn't feel like enough until he made a true difference in someone's life.

Spencer Reid and you had connected in nearly a cosmic level, and that began to scare you.

It was two and a half years after Spencer had met you when he realized he had been falling in love with you for nearly a year. His small crush had grown exponentially. After Haley Hotchner's death, you'd taken in Jack for several days while Hotch planned the funeral and began to clean the house from the murders. Jack had taken to you quickly; he'd gone as far as to call you his favorite aunt.

Seeing the level of compassion and helpfulness you had displayed for Hotch made Spencer begin to realize that your friendship was beginning to move to the next level for him.

He began to think of you night and day, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing, what your plans were. He wanted to be with you, to feel your skin, linger in your existence. It wasn't until JJ had explained to him that that feeling he felt was love that he began to understand that you were in no place for him to admit his feelings.

Spencer never meant to profile anyone unless he was working, but he found it hard to not with you. He noticed your lack of dating, how even when you had the chance, you evaded it. He noticed your disdain to the notion of true love, or love at first sight, or even soulmates. It didn't take him long to piece together that it wasn't a hatred of love, no, it was a fear of it. However, he could never understand the why of the fear.

Now, you and Spencer had met five years ago. You'd both physically changed in looks over the time, but your friendship only remained and grew passionately stronger.

After the death of Emily, and finding out she didn't really die, Spencer had you as his rock. You grieved together, to the point that for three weeks, you lived with Spencer in his apartment. After you'd left, Spencer realized that he couldn't live without you anymore.

Spencer and you sat on his couch, the cold September month made you crave an early Halloween movie. So, Spencer put on his own copy of Beetlejuice he bought a few years back. The soft glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across the room, and the faint scent of popcorn lingered in the air. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, blending with the soft rustling of the movie’s soundtrack.

"I like Adam and Barbara," Spencer hummed as he watched the screen. "They make a really good couple."

You nodded, "I guess they do,"

Spencer's brows furrowed at your words. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know," You shrugged, sitting up and crossing your legs. "He's sort of controlling over her. It's just too much, she's a strong woman."

"You mean he's protective over her in the afterlife filled with dead people they didn't even knew existed?" Spencer raised a brow, turning to you. "I'm pretty sure that's relatively normal."

Turning your attention back to the screen, you replied, "I guess so,"

Spencer sighed, finally deciding to ask you the question he'd been avoiding for too many years now. "Why are you so scared of love?"

His question made you turn back to him, a confused look on your face. "What?"

"You're so pessimistic about it. You always avoid dating, talking about it, anything to even do with love." Spencer explained. "I'm just curious, why?"

"Because, there is no way love that strong exists." You concluded, folding your arms over your chest. "That's why it's all in the movies. It's fake for a reason."

Spencer nearly chuckled at your words, finding himself in disbelief. Sure, he didn't really believe in soulmates, but he definitely believed in love. "Sure love exists," Spencer said. "True love has to come from somewhere to be spoken about. It's why its so deeply rooted into art and literature. Plus, with the psychological evidence of--"

"Okay, okay," You put your hands up in mock surrender. "I believe you, Spence." You'd never cut off one of his rants before.

"This bothers you," Spencer noted, his arms mocking your previous stance as they folded over his chest. "Why does this bother you so much, what aren't you telling me?"

You let out a huff of air in reply, your defences kicking into full gear. "Why do you care so much?"

Spencer stuttered over his words, “Uh- because it clearly affects you! It’s not hard to notice your dislike of it, and I want to know.” Spencer defended. He could see it in your eyes, though. You were too good of a profiler to not know he was lying through his teeth.

“The real reason?” You sharply replied, hating that Spencer was lying.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Spencer’s voice was filled with desperation. “Here you are, constantly belittling the idea of love when that’s all I want to give to you, and I don’t understand why.”

His words cut you like a knife. You hadn’t expected him to say that, let alone feel it. It almost made you feel guilty. “No one has ever understood me, Spencer. I don’t want to settle for just anyone who will pretend for their whole life that they know me when deep down they will never be able to understand who I am, what I need.”

“You think I don’t?” Spencer challenged. He tried not to feel offended at your words, truly. Yet they hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like he understood you.

“Okay, prove it then.”

Spencer was ready for this, “Your least favorite cases involve those with divorced parents. Not because of the affect on their children, but the affect it takes on them. You hate to see when it hurts one of them, or both.” Spencer’s first claim was true, and it caught you off guard. “You hate anything with a pumpkin scent, however, you enjoy real pumpkins because of their look rather than their scent. You bite your lip, tap your foot, shake your leg, all when you feel negatively.”

“Anyone could profile that,” You weakly replied, feeling thrown off at Spencer’s careful acknowledgment of your little tells.

“Are you afraid of love because no one will ever understand you, or because you’re scared you’ll never find someone who will.” Spencer finished. He watched as your mouth opened and closed, the words not quite making it out. “I see you, I hear you. My favorite thing is when you tell me things about yourself, your day, your feelings. Any day without you is a bad day and any day with you is a good one.”

Spencer’s words left your heart beating faster in your chest as you began to realize this is what you were looking for all along, but your own fear that you would never find it blind sighted you to the truth. The truth that Spencer Walter Reid was in love with you.

Spencer often recalled his own struggles with relationships, remembering the long hours he spent studying while his peers socialized. With him being so much younger, he had no way to truly connect with them. The sense of isolation he felt growing up made him cherish the connections he built later in life, driving him to seek genuine understanding and affection. On the other hand, your own problems with family and bad relationships drove you to hold a near-resentful feeling to love. It made you feel like it was something you could never have. That was something Spencer was beginning to see from your perspective.

"Please," Spencer's voice was softer, more vulnerable as his eyes pleaded with you. "say something."

"I'm sorry," you breathed. For a moment, Spencer thought you were about to reject him, until he saw the glistening tears form in your eyes. "I-I should've known sooner."

Spencer nearly chuckled, "I didn't want to make it too obvious."

"Spencer?" you asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Why do you love me?"

Your question made his heart nearly crack at the raw fragility your tone held. All he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and sing you sweet nothings until you believed him, but right now that wasn't an option. "I love you because you're unapologetically you," Spencer's reply made you finally lock eyes with him. "You're so sweet and kind, you never try to hide the things you like and dislike. You're so bold and brave. You make me feel so alive, so wanted. Every moment with you is a reminder of how extraordinary it is to be around someone who radiates such genuine warmth and enthusiasm."

"You really love me?" Your voice felt meek in comparison to how your normal assertiveness and bravato sounded. Your heart felt three times bigger in your chest as a tear dared to slip down your cheek.

Before it could even leave your eye, Spencer brought his sleeve over his hand and soaked it up gently with the cuff. "I love you with every part of me."

"I think I want to love you, too." you admitted. It felt hard to say those words, to finally give into your darkest, most vulnerable desire of unwavering love.

"Even with your fears, you're beautiful." Spencer softly reached to graze your cheek. "This, your fears, nothing could ever scare me. I'll teach you to let me love you if I need to."

"That better be a promise," you slightly chuckled, holding your pinky out to the man.

Spencer smiled, locking his pinky with your own, "It's a promise."

As you held Spencer’s pinky in your own, a sense of peace settled over you. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a tentative hope. "Maybe love isn’t as impossible for me as I thought," You whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. Spencer’s smile was both a promise and a comfort, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

#spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort

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ohimsummer · 11 months

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ANYTHING YOU CAN DO...

— minors dni, suguru x fem! reader (+ implied satoru x reader), virgin! reader, gojo and geto are fighting over you lol, suggestive/smut?, biting, hickeys, some dryhumping, reader is a sensitive little virgin and came in their panties, everyone is around 21-ish

the sequel: …i can do better

Having the attention of the Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto is both a blessing and a curse.

It’s overwhelming sometimes the way they tag-team making you increasingly flustered; Suguru dropping blatant hints with that silky smooth voice of his, cascading through your ears like warm, melted caramel. And then Satoru, who can never keep his hands to himself and leaves frisky, fleeting touches on any unprotected part of your body. You’ve since realized it’s such a bad (albeit tantalizing) idea to wear those cute little camis that hug your figure so nice or, God forbid, those fuzzy, blue, cotton shorts just asking for him to pinch at the exposed skin of your thighs and ass hanging out the bottom.

The way they’d compete for your affections (even though you had more than enough to go around) was both humorous and also troublesome for your willpower. How many times would they trap you between their bodies, wandering hands creeping beneath your clothes to pinch and rub at anything they could reach because they were just so, so fucking obsessed with the way you squeal and whine when they do. And the way you can’t contain all your low, desperate moans but continue to pray that their continuous spat will drown it out. They both tug at you from either side, until sometimes Satoru will just yank you by the waist into his lap and now Suguru has to gently spread your legs and scoot closer, hooking one around his waist and caressing the other laid upon his lap. And now you’re stuttering an excuse to escape inside your room with extraordinarily soaked panties and an agonizing ache between your thighs. The two were idiots but they’re far from dumb, and you mentally curse both Geto and Gojo for playing games with your pussy the way they were.

So, yeah, though they’re both terribly awful in their own way, you think Suguru is worse than his best friend. Satoru would pin you to the wall with your wrists above your head, pull you into his embrace and kiss your temples, all because he was so blatantly obsessed with you, yes, but also just to spite Geto who would always be sitting nearby. But Suguru, Suguru was far worse. It was like he made a mission out of toying with Gojo through you. Geto gets to amuse himself with a pissed off Satoru, and he gets to privately indulge in you. Like right now.

“Sug–uru..!”, you cry into his hair, arching into his chest and pussy throbbing against the thigh tucked between your legs. It's embarrassing how just the slow drags of his tongue over your neck and collar is enough to get you riled up like this.

He hums in response but never halts his movements. Teeth graze along your skin as Geto searches for that perfect spot to leave his claim on you, all the while peppering soft kisses in his wake. One hand pulls you harder against his tense thigh, slowly massaging your sobbing cunt against his leg, while the other has a solid grip on the back of your neck. It’s taking everything in him not to fuck you right then and there, especially when you sigh so prettily and whimper Suguru’s name into his ear like it’s the only thing you know. So stunning and so needy when he gives you the slightest touch and your pussy leaves a growing stain on his dark sweats.

"Mmph, g-god-! Su- Suguru-, ah—!"

Your voice comes out a jumble of moans and whines as teeth finally sink into your skin, followed by a harsh suck along your neck. Your grip will be sure to leave those crescent marks in Geto’s shoulder blades, even through his shirt. Quivering legs squeeze around Suguru's thigh, and you feel like such a dumb dog humping his leg so hopelessly the way you are. You've only ever been touched like this in your dreams, and it feels a million times better when it's by someone like Suguru. His steady movements don’t reveal the way he’s almost falling apart at the seams. You can’t tell in your drunken haze, but if you paid the slightest bit more attention, you’d feel the solid outline of his weeping cock against your leg.

His motions remain soothing and calm, like Geto had this all planned out for ages and knows exactly what he's doing. He’d like to chalk it up to just being a pro, but really it’s because all these lewd gestures are so new to your body. You're obviously inexperienced and his touch is like a gradual, warm fire trailing over your skin; it leaves you so excited and craving for something, anything more from him.

Suguru pulls back to admire his handywork: a nice dark blemish on the sweet spot of your neck that would surely be a prominent display (unless you planned on rousing Gojo's suspicion further and wearing winter clothes in the blistering summer heat), the shivering of your limp limbs because no doubt you just came in your panties, and that adorable, blissful look on your face. He can see the faintest of perspiration forming on your skin. Eyes squeezed shut, nipples erect beneath your top, and panting like you’ve just been fucked senseless.

Suguru chuckles at the sight. Aren’t you cute? He can't wait to have his way with you, really give you something to lose your breath over.

#suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut

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feyhunter78 · 5 months

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Chapter Three - Your father has taken notice of your blossoming interest in a certain dark-haired northerner.

Ch 4

“The boy is looking at you again.” Your father drawls, moving his elephant across the cyvasse board with disinterest.

You take a sip of your wine and hum in response, moving one of your trebuchets forward.

He clicks his tongue. “Bad move, little lion, that leaves me free to attack your king.”

You glance at the board and curse internally; you have been far too distracted by Jon’s barely subtle stares to properly play the game. “Perhaps I am simply letting you win, you are getting older, Father, it is only the kind thing to do.”

Your father raises an eyebrow and delivers his final move. “Ah yes, it is kindness that distracts you, not the strapping lad who seems he will burst into flames if he does not look at you every three seconds.”

You glance over at Jon, who swiftly turns his attention back to Arya, correcting her stance out in the training yard, the ground freshly cleared of snow.

You and your father have taken a seat on one of the benches within one of the entrances to the guest chambers that spills out into the yard. It’s the perfect mixture between the warmth inside and the crisp morning air outside.

“I have not the faintest idea what you speak of.” You say, popping a grape into your mouth and chewing slowly, trying to hide your smile from your father.

He sighs and shakes his head. “All those years spent teaching you to mask your emotions, to have the perfect expression that never reveals anything, gone with the simple presence of a dark-haired northern boy who does naught by train and brood.”

“He reads as well.” You say, unable to stop yourself from defending Jon.

“Oh, does he now? Someone send word to the Grand Maester, we have found his newest acolyte.” He snorts, taking a drink from his glass.

You wrinkle your nose in response. “You are quite humorous, Father, truly you could put the court fool out of a job.”

He sets his wine down and heaves a heavy sigh. “You know I only ever wish for your happiness.”

“Yes, it is why you are my favorite father in the whole continent.” You smile teasingly, pulling your cloak closer around you as the wind picks up.

“But he is a bastard—”

“You said all dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes, and yet you are still a man worth respect and titles.” You cut in, surprising even yourself with your outburst.

“Y/N.” Your father says sternly, laying his hands flat on the table.

You duck your head. “Sorry, Father.”

“He is a bastard, he cannot be your husband. A lover, or a guard, yes, but not a husband. If we were not Lannisters, if our house was not as it was, then perhaps it would be allowed. Gods know I do not wish to force you into a marriage you despise, but you are still a lady, still have the potential to win over great victories for our family.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning his words over in your mind. “Are you suggesting I proposition him, like Queen Rhaenyra did Ser Criston Cole?”

“I am not suggesting anything, I do not wish to think of my only daughter as a lady grown, but if you must follow Queen Rhaenyra’s footsteps…perhaps it is a Lord Harwin Strong you should seek instead.” His tone is careful, teetering the line between fatherly advice and the words of a Lannister.

You toy with the edges of your cloak. “Jon cares much for his honor, it would be shameful to even ask him such a thing.”

Your father’s hand covers your own. “That bleeding heart of yours, it comes straight from your mother.”

You smile. “And you, as well, do not downplay your kindness. An unkind father would have shipped me off to the richest man who asked for my hand the moment I first bled.”

He shivers in disgust at the thought.

Your eyes drift over to Jon and Arya, the latter who has been distracted by the appearance of Sansa and Joffrey.

“Perhaps a guard then, you could do worse than a guard you have grown alongside, it breeds loyalty.” Your father muses, watching how Jon shifts to put himself between Arya and Joffrey.

You cringe when Joffrey challenges Jon to a playful duel, ignoring your father’s words. “This will not go well.”

“Perhaps it will be good for your cousin’s ego to be beaten into the ground by someone he deems below him.”

You meet your father’s eyes and you both burst into laughter.

“Y/N, Uncle, stop laughing and come, all must witness this display of skill.” Joffrey calls, beckoning you both over.

“I cannot, Nephew, I must meet with your Uncle Jaime.” Your father calls back, hopping down from the bench.

“Father.” You hiss, silently begging him not to leave you with Joffrey.

He pats your hand. “You will be fine, stiff upper lip, little lion, remember?”

You groan and pout at him, but he shoos you forward.

Sansa crushes your hand as you watch Jon and Jeffrey spar, it’s clear Jon is holding back, you’ve seen him training, he puts more effort into hitting the dummies than he does attempt to hit Joffrey.

“Should you not cheer for your cousin?” Sansa asks.

The thought has never crossed your mind, and now it makes your stomach turn. “I would not want to break his concentration.” You say gracefully, trying to keep your eyes on the clashing swords and not Jon.

“Who cares?” Arya cheers, “Go Jon, knock him flat.”

Jon flashes her a smile, one born of confidence and the rush of near victory, and your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can imagine him competing in a tourney. His polished armor flashing in the sun, ripping his helmet off and letting it fall to the ground, his curls set free as he directs that smile towards you, the crown of roses in his hand naming you his Queen of Love and Beauty.

“Good work, My Prince, hit him hard.” Sansa cheers in direct opposition of her sister.

Joffrey turns towards Sansa, basking in her praise. A fatal mistake, his distraction allows Jon to knock him to the ground.

The action rips a gasp from you, not many aside from your Uncle Jaime would dare to knock Joffrey off his feet.

Your cousin lies there stunned, then he darts up, sputtering, his face turning red as he hurls insults at Jon, before storming off, Sansa jumping up to follow after him.

You catch her arm. “Lady Sansa, I would leave him to his solitude, my cousin is not fond of sharing in his embarrassment.”

Sansa looks as if she wishes to argue, but relents and turns to scold Arya for her cheering.

Jon’s gaze falls upon you, he hasn’t even broken a sweat, his eyes the color of a winter storm in the sunlight.

Perhaps a guard then. Your father’s words echo in your mind. You didn’t need to follow in Queen Rhaenyra’s footsteps, you could follow in Queen Alicent’s. Your maester had spoken of the pure and courtly bond between her and Ser Criston Cole when you were young, and you had been enraptured by the devotion Ser Cole had to his queen.

“Well done, Lord Jon.” You say, giving him a smile and a slight nod of your head as you take a step forward, then another until you are standing before him. Then you lean in, “though I would not have protested if you bruised his jaw when you knocked him flat.”

A slight smile tugs at Jon’s lips, and your eyes dart down to them.

He sucks in a breath, then takes a step back, putting more space between you, an overly appropriate amount of space. “Thank you, Lady Lannister.”

“Y/N, or if we must use titles, Lady y/n.”

Jon swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his pale throat. He has a nice throat, well-formed, pale with a smattering of dark stubble where it meets his chin. He must be freshly shaved, there’s a slight nick near his right ear.

You must get a hold of yourself, a nice throat? Y/N, you are shameful. You chastise yourself internally, tearing your eyes from him.

“As you wish, Lady y/n.” He whispers, his voice nearly stolen by the wind.

Jon TL: @mostclevermiss

#meg's writing #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x oc #jon snow imagines #jon snow imagine #jon snow #lannister!reader #tyrion lannister #tyrion is such a good dad #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf #asoif fanfic

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thegnomelord · 10 months

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Got an idea for prompt #20. Ghost, Price and male reader for monster au with reader wanting to try giving up control for once

Sure thing mate! I kinda got ahead of myself lol. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Trusting enough to give up control

CW: NSFW, Dom dragon Price, Switch wraith Ghost, Sub male mage Reader, Monster au, collars, blowjobs, Dom/Sub, praise kink.

You don't have a right to feel apprehensive; you suggested this after all, but your fingers tremble as you trace the leather inscribed with anti-magic runes. The collar should feel comfortable around your neck, you know because you touched the leather a thousand times before even humoring the idea of putting it on... but the idea of being without magic — completely defenseless — arouses and scares the shit out of you.

A blackened hand grips your jaw almost too tenderly, tilting your head up so you meet Simon's gaze. "Havin' second thoughts?" He presses closer to you until he's bullied his way between your legs with his knees spreading your own, boxers retaining all of your modesties for now.

You give a small sound, neither confirming nor denying. It earns you a weak slap to the inner thigh from Price's tail, his chest and your back fitting together like puzzle pieces. "There's no shame in backing out." He purrs, sharp talons gently massaging the sting out of your thigh while his tail curls around your shin. "But we need you to be vocal lad-" He takes the collar from your hand, "-do you want this?"

"Get on with it." You snap before you can chicken out, breathing in to calm your nerves. "...please."

The last word has Price rewarding you by groping your cock. "Good boy," Simon looks at him for permission, his lips sealing over yours to swallow your groan as soon as it's given. Your teeth click together, his kisses always so aggressive and demanding that you almost forget about the collar until you feel the cold buckle against your skin.

The effect is immediate; an unpleasant jolt rushes down your spine to flood every vertebrae with a bone gnawing cold, a heavy fog settling over a portion of your mind. The leather puts resistance on your throat as you breathe as if to mock you for your choice, reminding of how weak you are, how useless-

Price places a gentle kiss on your cheek, his beard tickling your skin and claws carding through your hair. "Color?"

Simon's hands grope your sides, the collar turning even the wraith's freezing hands blessedly warm. "Go on, use that pretty mind for us." He orders in a gruffer voice, his lips still close to yours.

"Green," You suck in a small breathe, goosebumps spreading across your skin. "Just cold."

Simon presses even closer to you, burning lips taking your breath away so he can nibble on your lip. "Can't have that, can we Captain?" He smirks, ignoring you to look at Price. "'specially when our boy's being so docile."

"'s that so?" You notice how Price keeps a possessive hand over your throat, one finger hooked underneath the collar. "D'you think you've earned a reward?" He asks, his other hand tracing down your front to play with the band of your boxers.

"Please." The word escapes your throat before your mind can even finish processing the question.

"Good boy," Prices loves the way you shiver, loves the sight of you so open and vulnerable just for them; he catches Simon licking his lips. "Go on then Simon," His hand slides beneath your boxers to push the band down until your cock springs out. "'m sure you're hungry." Just seeing your rock hard cock throb when he swipes his roughly scared thumb across the head has Price's own dick go hard.

"I'm not the only one." Simon rumbles and bites your collarbone, leaving a trail of dark hickeys and teeth imprints across your front until he's face to face with your aching cock. "Fuck, such an adorable thing." He growls against the meat of your thigh, biting you there just so he can see a drop of pre-cum bead atop your cock head. "Should keep a collar 'round your neck all the time so you can be pretty and pliant for us."

"Simon-" The width of his shoulders and Price's tail around your shin keeps you from closing your legs, embarrassment making your cheeks burn hot. "-you fucker," You growl and attempt to grab his hair so you can get his mouth where you need it.

You yelp when Price slaps your cock with his tail, pain and pleasure flaring up your spine. "None of that." Price growls, keeping a hand on your collar and pinning your hands to your stomach with the other. "Play nice-" His eyes shift to Simon's. "-both of you."

"Yes sir." Simon relents, grabbing a hold of your cock your eyes close as he licks from your base to the tip of your cock. A little squeeze of Price's hand has your eyes snapping open just in time to see Simon's monstrously long tongue loll out of his mouth, wrapping and stroking your shaft as he suckles your head, drool and your pre-cum staining his chin.

"Good boys." Price rumbles as your head falls back on his shoulder, barely able to keep your eyes open as Simon sucks you like a trained whore, leaving fingerprint bruises while he holds your hips down from bucking. "Simon feels good, doesn't he?" You nod your head, hissing when Simon suddenly swallows you down to the base; Wraiths don't need to breathe and Simon takes full advantage of that fact by swallowing around you, hot throat spasming and long tongue stroking the sensitive veins along your cock.

"Go on sweetheart." Price nibbles on your ear as you shake and try not to cum quickly like a teenager but it's a loosing battle, Simon's hot mouth and the dark look he gives as he stares at you has you tumbling towards orgasm faster than anything else. "No need to hold on." He lets go off your hands to push Simon's head even further down on your cock, until your tip's pocking the back of his throat.

Price's permission is all it takes, the building heat in your stomach spilling over the sides as you cum, your hips uselessly bucking against Simon's hold as you cum down his throat. Simon doesn't even choke, throat constricting and milking you for all you have, continuing to suckle until you grow soft in his mouth.

You're barely lucid when Simon finally pulls off, cum and drool bridging his lips with the tip of your cock, your body completely boneless but still able to twitch as Simon licks the residual cum from your oversensitive dick.

"Good boy." Price praises and you can feel his own hard cock poke into your ass. "I think he can go again, don't you, Simon?"

Simon smirks and raises to give you a sloppy kiss, your brain too melted into mush to care about the taste of your cum on his tongue. "Oh-" Simon's hand sneaks down to stroke your soft cock back to harness, ignoring your pitiful whining. "-I think he can."

#Gnome's prompt game #gnome correspondence #captain john price #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #top male reader #male reader #sub reader #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x reader #monster 141 au #monster au #monster cod au

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berylcups · 3 months

Text

La Squadra x Reader: What makes them laugh

CW: suggestive behavior (Melone being Melone), getting scared, food, spicy food, annoyed pets( no pets real or imaginary were harmed in this post), gamer rage, language barriers, minor DNI

Notes: some of the videos suggest may or may not be offensive to you or your morals (mostly referring to cart narcs and some Gi Joe PSAs) so please view at your own discretion and mental health in mind! This is a post made for funsies and not meant to harm in anyway. Humor is subjective and as someone with privilege but also is AuDHD there maybe somethings I overlooked. Just know that Beryl loves you all and cares about you all 💜 Also regarding Prosciutto…he might be a little OOC. The only real humor I could see him having is like boomer humor or political humor but that is such a gross yucky subject and I want to keep this post as positive as possible. I hope I did him justice! I hope you enjoy either way! 💜 Beryl

Risotto

What type of humor do they have?: dark humor/ jump scare reactions

How do they laugh?: he has a low deep rumble of a chuckle when he does laugh it almost sounds like an evil villain’s laughter. It’s a little intimidating! But don’t tell him that we want him to laugh more! 🖤

Anything you do make them laugh?: anytime something makes you jump he can’t help but let out a chuckle. Whether someone shows up in your line of sight suddenly and it startles you, or a loud noise makes you scream like a crack of lightning.

You were in the kitchen of the base sneaking a piece of a cake, you knew nobody else was home so you could easily steal the last piece of strawberry cake. You felt so evil, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself!

As soon as you took a forkful and put it near your mouth, a flash of lightning struck and you felt a massive hand on your shoulder with hot breath on your neck.

“…that’s the last piece…I hope you plan on sharing it Y/N…” you heard a deep voice rumble.

The pure rush of adrenaline jolted through you like the lightning outside and you jumped up, dropping the plate and letting out the most high pitched pathetic screech. The plate shattered all over the kitchen floor completely ruining the cake.

“Damn it Risotto! Don’t scare me like that!” You whined. “Stop being invisible and show yourself!”

He chuckled as he revealed himself, he had a rare shit eating grin on his face.

“Sorry… I really couldn’t help myself. It was the perfect opportunity to get you like that.” He snickered as rubbed your head.

“Sigh…I’m happy that you are enjoying yourself. But I almost peed myself and I dropped a perfectly good piece of cake.” You whined.

“Well I hate to say it but karma is a bitch. That’s what happens when you try to sneak off with the last piece.” He smirked as he got out the broom and dust pan.

“And I would have gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for you being a creeper.” You huffed.

What types of videos make them laugh?: jumpscare reactions- especially if it’s older people playing the scary maze. He thinks it’s hilarious! But he feels bad when he sees little kids get scared, that’s not funny to him 😞 any kid age 12+ though is fine with him- it’s time for them to grow up 😈

Any examples?: nothing specific- look for videos of people getting tricked into getting jump scared 😅 like scary maze, the video of the car driving down through the hills, FNAF, etc.

Formaggio

What type of humor do they have?: funny memes/ voice over parodies

How do they laugh?: he starts off with a goofy low deep chuckle then as it progresses it turns into a roaring laughter where he’s gasping and holding his stomach. Very infectious 🤭

Anything you do make them laugh?: This guy is all giggles! It’s never hard to make him laugh. But his favorite thing is when you reference his favorite videos.

“Hey hey hey~! Get off the counter Asiago!” You scolded the cat. The grey furball turned its butt at you and continued to prance across the counter. “Oh? We’re playing this game huh? Don’t make me give you a body massage~…”

“Who wants a body massage?”you asked in a deep voice, picking up the cat off the counter before she could escape.

“Mister body massage machine GO” you aggressively rubbed the cats belly.

“Pfft hey~! Where’s my body massage?” He laughed watching you playfully manhandle the cat.

“Make me some pork chop sandwiches and maybe zaddy will give ya a body massage!” You struggled to say through your giggling.

The cat was fed up with both of your guys bullshit and jumped out of your arms and ran off hissing.

What types of videos make them laugh?: GI Joe PSAs, Jaboody Dubs- he loves silly voice overs of his favorite American cartoons. Taking them out of context and rewriting the dialogue makes him want to piss himself from laughter.

Any examples?: Pork Chop Sandwiches! I’m a computer, stop all the downloading!

Illuso

What type of humor do they have?: “nailed it “ humor

How do they laugh?: He laughs just as obnoxiously as he does in the dub. Its very unflattering and he sounds like a hyena. Despite that, it’s very contagious!

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you tried to make cute rainbow cupcakes and all the colors bled together making it look like an absolute disaster. The icing melted and the rainbow candy wouldn’t retain its rainbow shape...Its just a sugary sticky mess.

“Ha-Nice job. Very well done.” Illuso snickered. “It looks like a leprechaun vomited all over your cake pan!” he howled.

“It looks so fucking miserable! Did you even try???” he cackled. “Next time, leave the baking to me!”

“Oh fuck off Lulu.”you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration. “Anytime I pintrest anything, it always-ALWAYS goes wrong.”

He wiped the tears from his face as he tried to calm himself down from his high.

“Hey, hey… Calm down Y/N. Baking is very fickle. I’ll help you out next time. You did the best you could. Trial and error is unfortunately part of the baking process” he said rubbing your back.

“I just really wanted some cute tasty cupcakes…”you pouted.

“I could tell. You didn’t let the cupcakes cool long enough before you put the icing on them. That's why it melted right off.” he stuck a finger in one of the cakes and tasted the frosting. “Mmm…still tastes good though. Lets just eat them anyway. Ugly cake is still good cake.”

What types of videos make them laugh?: “Nailed it” show, parkour/stunt fails, live tv bloopers/ fails, makeup fails

Any examples?: grape lady falls

Pesci

What type of humor do they have?: cute animal humor

How do they laugh?: he tries to hold back his laughs but fails with an adorable snort. He has a giggle that sounds like pure joy from an angel. 😇 It’s a big belly laugh and it’s hard not to laugh along with him. Hearing his laugh is always going to put you in a good mood! 😁

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you panic and freak out holding an upset octopus that you accidentally caught while fishing.

“lil guppy~! Put down the camera and help me~! Ow ow ow!” You squealed trying to pry to the angry octopuses suction cups off of you.

“My poor precious pearl! Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” He quickly took a few more pictures of your scuffle with the cephalopod and walked over to gently but firmly pull the tentacles off your face and chest.

He wrangled the fuming octopus and gently but swiftly removed the hook from it. He then he quickly dropped it back into its home in the sea.

“Oh thank god… Thank you Pesci. You’re my hero!” You sighed in relief and rubbed the sore spots the suction cups left.

. “You’re very welcome Y/N. I’m just thankful you’re okay. You weren’t in any real danger. Octopus encounters are just really uncomfortable.” Pesci looks at you and your red splotches, making a gentle giggle.

“What’s so funny??” You whined, putting hands on your hips. You were annoyed he was laughing after a moment like this but knowing how kind he was you’d give him a moment to explain himself.

“The octopus gave you a bunch of welts making it look like you have polka dots!” He laughed light-heartedly. “ you poor thing, I’ll have to give you some cream to help your irritated skin.”

“Sigh… I’m so accident prone. Maybe it was a bad idea to join you on your fishing trips.” You pouted.

“No! Not at all!” He said, giving you a big reassuring hug . “ I love having you with me! I want you to come with me all the time!…only if you want to of course.”

“I’d love too.” You smiled. “As long as I don’t catch anymore angry octopi.” You softly giggled.

What types of videos make them laugh?: he loves watching cat and dog videos of them being silly and doing goofy things! He has a wholesome sense of humor.

Any examples?: Today I groomed a new species | the weirdest cat ever. Cat barking like dog. Dog of wisdom

Prosciutto

What type of humor do they have?: instant karma

How do they laugh?: he has a deep, rich laughter. It sounds very indulgent. It starts out with a mild wheeze then a chuckle that rumbles out of his chest. He has a habit to put a hand to his forehead and shake his head before he really starts laughing. If you have a voice kink his laughter might make you start acting unwise 😳

Anything you do make them laugh?: it has nothing to do with his type of humor but you underestimate something. You were weak to heat but you thought you could handle some of Prosciuttos pasta arrabiata. You… couldn’t handle it at all.

You were having lunch with your beloved partner. You were eating Gnocchi Sorrentina and he had Pasta Arrabiata. It looked so good and smelled good too. You wanted a taste.

“Hey Prosci, let me have a bite of your pasta pretty please? It looks sooo good!” You said trying not to drool.

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m more than happy to share amore, but it’s very spicy. I know you don’t do well with spicy foods… are you sure you want to try it?” He asked.

“I know I’m weak to spice but it can’t be THAT spicy. Your nose isn’t even running and you're not sweating! I can handle it!” You reassured him. “May I have just a bite please?”

He seemed a little wary but he took a forkful and guided it towards your mouth.

“Okay amore. Here you go. Open up.” He said bring the fork closer to your lips.

You opened your mouth happily inviting the food into your mouth. You chewed as you felt your senses overcome you. Perfectly al dente pasta and a delicious tomato sauce tantalizing your taste buds.

“Oh my~! Prosci it’s so goo-“an unsettling sensation overcame your mouth. You felt your nose get runny and the sweat begin to form on your skin. The heat in your mouth has made itself known. You could feel it in all your soft tissues, your throat, and even your teeth!

“So..so hot!” You panicked. You jump up from your chair and scramble to the sink to drink water directly from the tap.

Prosciutto wheezed and let a hearty laugh out of his chest.

“I told you it was going to be spicy Y/N!” He wheezed.

“I didn’t think it was going to be THAT spicy!” You gargled. “Ahh~ the pain won’t stop!”

“Drink milk amore. Fats neutralize the capsaicin.” He chucked as watched.

You slammed open the fridge and grabbed the milk and drank straight from it, not caring it was for Pesci. You’d buy him a new one. You drank the rest of the leftover milk panting hard.

“Feel better?” He asked.

“ Yeah… the pain is gone. But now I’m going to have to worry about my lactose intolerance later…” you panted. “I owe Pesci a new milk jug.”

“We’ll worry about that when we come to it.” He said kissing your forehead.

What types of videos make them laugh?: anything to do with instant karma or people getting what they deserve… he looks like he’d enjoy public freakouts/karens getting what they deserve 😂

Any examples?: nothing specific, maybe CartNarcs? He’d like watching people messing with others and then they end up failing at their pranks or they end up getting served 😅

Melone

What type of humor do they have?: “That’s what she said “/ dirty minded humor & video game humor

How do they laugh?: he starts with a giggle and has a somewhat feminine light laugh. It’s very attractive

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you get frustrated playing video games and falling at them. 😅

You were sitting in front of the tv frustrated. You KNOW if you did enough backwards long jumps in rapid succession you could get through the endless stairs and to the final fight with bowser.

“Ugh… come on! It’s soooo hard!” You moaned in frustration.

“That’s what she said.” Melone snickered as he watched you helplessly try to glitch your way up the stairs.

“Ugh shut it Mel.” You hissed.

You kept trying and trying… no success. Your hands were beginning to cramp up.

“Aaah~! My hands! They’re cramping! Finish already!” You bitched.

“That’s what she said~.” He giggled louder.

“Melone! Not right now!” You barked.

“Now now Y/N… it’s just a game ~” he waved his finger at you.

You got so close, but your hands cramped up and spasmed. You had enough and threw your controller to the side.

“WELL FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!” You screeched. “ I give up!”

“That can be arranged ~” he purred while rubbing your shoulders. “ Calm down Y/N, it’s just a game… if you want you can take frustration out on me if you know what I mean ~.” He said kissing the shell of your ear.

“Sigh. ok, fine.” You giggled. “ You always know how to put me in a better mood.”

What types of videos make them laugh?: video game glitches, bad video game hacks

Any examples?: streamers or lets-players: ex: Vargskelethor, Vinesauce, Jerma, (my top 3 personally!) or overly popular YTubers like Pewdiepie, Markiplier, etc…

Ghiaccio

What type of humor do they have?: typos/ illiteracy/ misheard words

How do they laugh?: he always tries to hold his laughs in a “Pffft” if it’s really funny he wheezes before he laughs hard holding his ribs. It’s rare but he does laugh!

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you struggle to roll your R’s and say an Italian word but in the wrong way.

“Ghia~ can you bring me the pene for the pasta salad?” You asked, chopping the vegetables.

“Pffft what did you say?” He asked holding back a chuckle.

“You know! The pene pasta! The tube shaped pasta with the tip at the ends!” You said trying to be more specific.

“I have a pene but not pene PASTA.” He wheezed. “We have PENNE pasta.”

“Uh duh! That’s what I just said! What’s gotten into you today?” You huffed grabbing the bowl of pasta out of his hands.

“Y/N… Pene and Penne are two ENTIRELY DIFFERENT things.” He chuckled while wiping a tear from his eye.

“They sound the same! You just say the N a microsecond longer. It can’t be THAT funny! So tell me what I’ve been saying!” You whined

“Cock pasta. You said you were making cock pasta. Not very appetizing if you ask me. Penne is what you want to say- that means pen. Hence the pen shape of the pasta.” He snickered.

“So that’s why all the guys were laughing at me when I was raving about pasta arrabiata with penne?! And you didn’t fucking tell me???” You screeched.

The blue haired man crumpled into a laughing mess gripping his sides. “You can’t blame me for that fuck up! It was a perfect Language barrier!”

What types of videos make them laugh?: misheard lyrics and song parodies, Bone-app-the-teeth type compilations

Any examples?: how is prangent formed? Curse of the weggy board

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onepiecestarry · 2 months

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A Different Kind of Pirate - Part 2

Hi all, I recently did a poll to see what most people prefer to read and I will be switching the story to second pov :) hope this doesn’t mess anyone up. Thank you for the support!

Zoro X Reader

Masterlist

Part 2: A Routine

You wake up to see no one in the room. Thinking to yourself how odd it is Zoro can stay up so late and yet get up so early. You slip out of bed and go to the bathroom to change back into your regular clothes, leaving Zoro’s shirt folded on the table.

You begin descending the stairs from the crow’s nest observing everyone doing their own tasks. You then spot the broody man working out in the tangerine grove, away from the rest of the crew. You smile to yourself thinking how silly he is to be so closed off and dark, but someone on the crew must you guessed.

You enter the kitchen to the amazing smell of waffles. Sanji sees you and quickly sets a plate down with fresh fruit and hand-squeezed orange juice. You take your place next to Nami and say,

“Sanji, you really didn’t need to do all this for me. I’m okay with just a bit of cereal.” You smile.

“A lady like you? Cereal? God no, over my cold dead body y/n-swan.” He says shocked you even suggested it.

“Is he always like this?” You whisper to Nami.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” She says flatly back.

You both sit and enjoy your meals, chatting about random things and getting to know each other better. Eventually, Nami points out that Zoro hasn’t eaten yet and that Sanji should fix a plate up for him. He rolls his eyes and remarks,

“Fine, but I’m not bringing it to him.”

“That’s alright, I can. I don’t mind.” You giggle.

Weaving through the tangerine trees looking for the green-haired man, smelling the fresh air. It was almost like a maze with how many trees there were. As you’re about to give up and go out and back in again to start over, you back into something tall, but it isn’t a tree.

You slowly turn around to the intimidatingly tall man in front of you. Sure, you were intimidated by him, but by no means were you scared. You found him cute and liked the reactions you got from teasing him yesterday.

“I brought you some breakfast!” You say with a big smile.

“I don’t eat breakfast.” He says with a bite.

“Well, pretty boys don’t stay pretty if they don’t eat. I’ll leave this here, but you should really eat.” You say moving the plate over to a bench.

As you walk away you can feel Zoro’s eyes on you the whole time, as if you are a wild animal capable of doing any random movement at any time.

For the rest of the day, you sit with the other members playing games, telling stories, or reading. You found to quite like Robin’s company specifically. You and her have a very similar sense of humor, and it feels comforting to be around her.

-----

As the days go on you can’t help but believe Nami truly listened to their captain by setting sail for the farthest island possible. You weren’t complaining though. You had come up with a routine for yourself and quite enjoyed being on the Sunny.

Each morning you wake up and have breakfast with Nami and Robin, you then bring a plate to Zoro. He may say he doesn’t trust you but he always eats what you bring him. After that, you play some card games and such with Chopper and Luffy. You then help Frankie with repairs or his next project. After all that activity, you go back to the bench swing. This happens to be where Zoro naps in the afternoons. As he rests you read and enjoy the sun. Each night you all gather around a fire and enjoy the night. As everyone goes to bed you once again make tea for you and Zoro and ascend to the crow’s nest.

After the past week and a half of this Zoro hadn’t warmed up to you like the other crew had, but that’s okay, you know he's different and he takes his time to trust people. But he never once rejected your presence, which you count as a win, especially with how much you tease and flirt with him. It was just too easy! You say something as simple as “Hey hot stuff” and he’s a red mess. It's quite cute you think, and it's not as if you're lying, you truly think he's attractive so why not tell him?

---

You make your and Zoro’s tea, now knowing how he likes it after days of prodding him about it. You bring it up to him and hand him the cup, choosing to this time sit on the crow’s nest balcony with him.

You both sit in silence watching the waves and stars while sipping your tea.

“Zoro,” You say. He hums in response. “I forgot my pajamas in the wash.”

“For god’s sake woman.” He says exasperated.

He moves to his closet once again and throws a shirt at you. He walks to sit back down where he used to be. You laugh at his reaction, and he looks at you a bit puzzled.

“Why do you always stay up?” You ask curiosity getting the better of you.

“Someone’s gotta make sure no one attacks us while all these idiots are sleeping.” He states with a bit of a smirk on his face. It was faint but you could see the corners of his mouth fighting a smile. You hum in response.

“It must get lonely huh, do you ever get tired?” You ask.

“No not really.” he blandly says.

“Liar.” you say with a smile.

“Excuse me?” He looks at you with bewilderment and a smile on his face.

“I see you in the middle of the night on the balcony asleep, why do you think you always wake up with a blanket in the morning?” You laugh.

“That was you?!” He exclaims. “I thought I was tripping out or forgetting I had gotten a blanket the night before.” He says with surprise. You laugh at his response.

“How about this, I’ll stay up now and you can get some sleep and then when you wake up, I’ll get some sleep?” You say with a smile now looking away back towards the waves crashing against the boat.

He hums while thinking.

“And that way we can both sleep in the bed, and you won’t have back problems.” You try to say while stifling a laugh.

“I do NOT have back problems!” he says. “But it would be nice to sleep in a bed again. Alright, you’ve got a deal. But if I find you sleeping on the job, I’ll throw you overboard.” he smiles.

“You would never” You feign hurt, “Who would be here to compliment you all the time pretty boy?”

He turns away and walks inside before you can see his reaction, but you know he was trying to stop a smile. He quickly returns with a blanket and says to wake him up if you get tired.

You stay up for a while, quietly finding constellations or humming to yourself. Eventually, you start to get sleepy but fight it off so Zoro can get some much-needed rest. But alas you couldn’t fight it off forever.

The next day you wake up in the bed wondering how you got there. You sit up and look at the side table seeing a plate of breakfast and a note.

The note read:

Thanks for taking the graveyard shift last night, I’ll think about not throwing you overboard since you helped me out

You smile as you read it and bring the plate to the table. You sit quietly eating, looking out at the beautiful sky.

Later, when you joined the crew, they all asked what caused you to sleep in so late. You told them you started helping Zoro with the night watches so he could get some sleep too. They all nod at your sacrifice.

Suddenly their faces look serious and you ask what's wrong.

“We need to go to Dressrosa y/n.” Nami says.

“Oh, why is that?” You question.

“We just got word from our ally Trafalgar Law to meet up before going there to form an attack on Doflamingo.” Robin states.

“Oh wow, I see, okay. And what do you need me to do? Do you need to drop me off at a nearby island or something?” You say hoping that it won’t come to that.

“No! We want you to help us!” Luffy yells.

You smile at his request and nod. Frankie leaves to retrieve Zoro before you all start to plan everything. As Zoro walks back you smile at him, receiving the regular small nod.

The plan was to meet up with the heart pirates and proceed to Dressrosa to plan the attack. We all wanted to take down Doflamingo. You especially, he has always been on your ‘hit’ list but you never thought you could take him alone. You are grateful that you are now with two crews that can.

You smile to yourself thinking about how different life is now. Hoping not to go back to how it was before.

Part.3

I hope you enjoyed part 2! I am trying to write longer parts because I hate it when stories have short parts, turns out it's hard to do! But the next part should be up tomorrow if I stick to my schedule! Thank you for your support as a new writer! :)

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece fanfic #one piece zoro #one piece #one piece x you #zoro x reader #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro #opla zoro #zoro one piece #zoro x you #fanfiction #zoro fanfic #zoro fanfiction #zoro imagine

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ghosty-writes-23 · 1 year

Text

Incorrect COD Quotes Part. 2

!WARNING!: Suggestive (Slightly spicy) & dark humored content.

Ghosty's Notes: Some of these might be a little suggestive or contain dark humor, so you have been warned, V is my own female OC but can be read as x reader if you prefer that, also thank you so much for the recent support, I was a little hesitant to post these, but seeing how people have been liking them, I promise to make more in the future :)

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

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V: *is watching Ghost workout with König* “They are so big and so dumb, and one day I'm gonna top them.”

Soap: “you and me both Lass.”

*both V and Soap highfive*

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Gaz: “I pull women”

Soap: “I pull men.”

V: “i’m gonna pull the fucking trigger in a second.”

Price: *is looking at V horrified*

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*V is in Price’s office after a successful mission*

Price: *pats V on the shoulder* “I'm proud of you kid.”

*Alexia play daddy issues by the neighbourhood*

V: *holds back tears and voices cracks slightly* “T-Thanks sir.”

Price: *processed to give her a papa bear hug gently patting her back*

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Task Force 141 men: *sees V covered in blood, laughing with an almost psychotic grin on her face*

Ghost: *looks at V with almost hearts in his eyes* “I'm gonna marry that woman one day.

Soap: *chuckles* “Not if I do it first.”

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V: *is being help captive by Valeria*

Valeria: *is standing inches away from her face* "tell me everything you know."

V: *giggles like a school girl and would be twirling her fingers in her hair, if her hands weren't tied to the chair* "your eyes are really pretty."

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*Task force 141 + V are at their local pub after a mission well done*

Soap + V: *are sitting at the bar slightly intoxicated*

Ghost + Price: *are playing a game of pool, but are keeping an eye on the two at the bar*

Soap: *finishes his drink* “I bet you can’t do a wheelie on your motorbike right now.”

V: *gasps and looked at him offended* “I will have you know sergeant, I bet I can, watch me.”

Gaz: *who is the most sober out of the three* “Guys, I don’t think that is a good idea.”

V: *is already pulling out her keys and is slightly stumbling to the door* “Oh please Kyle, what could go wrong.”

Gaz: *is slightly worried she is going to try and actually do it* “maybe you killing yourself for one.”

*Before she makes it out the front door V’s keys are suddenly pulled out of her hand*

Price: “I'm taking these until you are sober.”

V: *pouts but nods*

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*Both V and König are in his room, V has her legs resting comfortably on his broad shoulders as she brushes her fingers through his hair and König is cleaning his knife from his previous mission*

V: “How is your hair so soft?” *keeps running her fingers through it, pouting slightly*

König: *is thankful she can’t see his face at the moment as it would be the same colour as a tomato* “I don’t know.”

V: *smirks slightly to herself, deciding to tease him slightly and gives his hair a soft tug*

König: *lets out a groan like moan before looking up at her his eyes wide*

V: *is smirking widely before placing a kiss on his forehead* “Cute.”

König:

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Price: *takes the task force 141 men + V out on a camping trip*

Gaz: “how much further.” *is close behind Price*

Price: “not that far.” *steps over a fallen log*

V: *rests her head on Ghost shoulder as she is getting a piggyback, because she sprained her ankle standing in a rabbit hole, not even 20 minutes into the camping trip*

Soap: *decides to tease Ghost* “Do you want to switch there L.T, your looking a little tired.”

Ghost: *scoffs quietly under his mask before tightening his grip on V’s thighs slightly* “I’m fine.”

V: *starting humming a tune* “Toss a coin to your witcher, oh valley of plenty”

Ghost: “You watched that TV show with Johnny didn’t you.”

V: *smiles wide and nods* “The song is catchy.”

*By the time they got to the campsite, the whole group was sing toss a coin to your witcher*

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 2 years

Text

We're Shit Out of Luck, Munson

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Masterlist Part Two

Summary: You're excited to take a trip north to Steve's cabin with all your friends. That is, until you're snowed in alone with Eddie.

Word Count: ~10.5k (I'm sorry)

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Improper knowledge of how a fire stove works. Sort of strangers to lovers? One Bed Trope!!!

A/n: This took way longer than I'd like to admit. I just couldn't get it work, but I hope it's good enough now :) Please let me know your thoughts! Love hearing from you all, and thank you for reading <3

The wheels of Nancy’s car churned up snowy roads under drifting clouds and floating snowflakes from above. In the rumbling backseat of her car sat you in the back, your head leaning toward the window. She drove, her bracelets jingling whenever she turned the wheel, while Jonathan sat in the passenger seat.

Some Fleetwood Mac song played through the old speakers, your head bobbing along as your eyes danced along the white landscape leading your way north – away from Hawkins and away from regular day-to-day life for just a few days. The three of you were planning to meet Steve, Robin, and Eddie there for an extended weekend away at a rarely used cabin Steve’s family owned.

A knit hat hugged against your head, a heavy coat weighing along your body as you thought toward spending time with some you knew well – missing the days of standing doubled over again in laughter together every other day – and others you were excited to get to know better.

Like Robin, who Steve had talked endlessly about how great the two of you would get along – though he seemed to especially say it after you teased or annoyed him. Or maybe like Eddie, your face quirking just a little at the thought.

You didn’t have anything against him, though you had only met him once. But it was just that you weren’t someone who would climb on cafeteria tables like he did back in high school or speak the way he did. You weren’t sure just yet whether his unashamed self put you off or impressed you.

Once your body had begun to ache from sitting for so long, you leaned forward, pushing yourself past the supplies containing clothes, food, movie, board games to rest a hand along Nancy’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re almost there, right?” you asked, peering at the map stretched across Jonathan’s lap.

He cleared his throat, stretching his legs before muttering, “Yeah, we should be there soon. It’s at the end of the road after we turn onto Lake Street.”

“Oh, is there a lake? Maybe we’ll do some ice fishing,” you suggested, humor in your voice as you leaned back into your seat.

Nancy let out a soft laugh, raising her eyebrows in a “maybe” sort of gesture and glancing to Jonathan.

He merely put his hands up. “You two feel free, but I think I’ll stick inside with all of my fingers warm and still connected to my body.”

With a smile, you returned to the view outside, watching it slowly change from straight county roads to winding dirt ones with trees growing thicker on each side. Swaying branches dusted off snow with each passing breeze.

Old brakes squeaked as Nancy pulled the car next to the cabin. Just as you thought about where the others were, Nancy muttered, “They’re probably not getting here until dark, if it’s those three trying to leave on time.”

You put down “chronically late” into your mental descriptions of Eddie and Robin, imagining Steve standing next to the car and waiting for them like the mom he often acted as. Spending time with the kids sometimes required a small escape like this, or at least it certainly seemed from Nancy’s urging to get away from Mike.

She huffed while getting out, but you just took it as a chance to get first pick at the cabin rooms. Grabbing your bag and hauling along food, you walked to the door as Jonathan asked, “Are we sure this is the right place?”

Glancing down, you saw a snowy welcome mat that said, “Live, Laugh, Love” – you turned around and shouted a giggly “Oh yeah.” Though all laughing died down as you tried turning the knob to open it… but nothing. Of course.

“Hey Nancy,” you called back to her at the car’s trunk, “Did Steve happen to give you a key to getting into this thing?”

You pressed your coat closer against your chest, trying to shield yourself from the wind, though the noisy breeze did nothing to hide Nancy’s sigh. “No, he didn’t. He said they’d be here in time, so it’d be okay.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded at the solemn information. Your breaths out made swirling white in the air in front of you as your boots creaked down the wooden steps. You searched around for a window that could be propped open and crawled through, but most seemed too high off the ground. The others refused to budge, even with all three of you trying to pull. Either they were locked or frozen shut out here.

A thud sounded out when your head rested against the cabin, slowly coming to terms with the rocky start to the getaway. Instead, you all were left inside the car, intermittently turning the car on to get enough heat going without wasting all of the gas.

“Go fish,” Jonathan told you for what seemed like the hundredth time, making you mutter under your breath.

Your cursing only increased when Nancy asked you, “Got any eights?” You shoved your eight into her hands, ignoring her smug smile and ready to give up on this game. It’d been a couple rounds of her winning every single one.

All of your heads popped up at the same time as rumbling came from behind, eyes catching a large van pulling up on the other side of the front of the cabin. You breathed a sigh of relief at the unmistakable flowing hair of Steve through the passenger seat window after what felt like an hour. “Thank the lord,” you whispered before the three of you clambered out.

Nancy was the first to speak, her nose red like yours. “Steve, if you don’t open this cabin right now, we’re stealing it from you and locking you out.”

You guessed he would’ve had wide eyes and a surprised response, but he looked tired, nodding with a straight mouth. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, tossing the keys to her.

The wave and smile Steve your way had you returning them as you went to hug him quick. “You’re so lucky that’s all you’re getting from Nancy. Another half an hour, and you’d be getting much worse threats from me,” you laughed.

As you turned to grab your things and finally find a warm blanket or bed or shower – something – he sighed out, “Hey, don’t blame me. Eddie here woke up late and was supposed to be the one picking us up. But I appreciate your kindness.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s good to see you though.”

“Good to see you too,” you said, patting his shoulder. And you meant it. That contagious smile and corny jokes were well-missed by you.

Making your way inside with your things, you wrapped your arms around yourself and grumbled under your breath things about Eddie that certainly didn’t help in his favor toward impressing you.

Stomping off the snow from your boots and slipping them off, you rushed through toward the rooms. You found three, which it didn’t take much mental math to figure out it’d have to be two people per room. Jonathan and Nancy would take one of them, leaving you with Steve, Robin, or Eddie. In the moment, though, you didn’t care too much as you picked a room at random and muttered your way into the bathroom with fresh clothes for a hot shower.

The steaming water dripped along your body, slowly warming your frigid fingers and toes. A long breath emptied from your lungs toward the smooth shower tiles, sending a warm shiver through your body. You weren’t sure how long had passed before you eventually turned the shower off, the leaky shower head dripping water droplets over and over again as you stepped out and dressed.

You exited the bathroom expecting your bags to be right on the bed where you had set them. You had no reason to expect otherwise, until you were met with the chaotic sight in front of you.

Technically, your things were still where you had set them, but they – along with the rest of the bed, most of the floor, the wooden dresser – were covered in clothes, candy wrappers, toiletries, and… were those mini figurines? You only took one step into the room, making the floor creak below you, before a wild wave of hair popped up from the other side of the bed.

Wide eyes stared into yours, big brown ones that nearly made you forget about the mess. That is until Eddie spoke up. “I uh, lost my Walkman. Tryin’ to find it before I go insane listening to their music.” He motioned his head toward the door with an unamused look on his face.

Listening for a beat, you heard music coming from the living room – which seemed to be “Material Girl” playing. Nodding, you looked around while asking, “Are you sleeping here?”

Eddie still rummaged through his bag as he muttered, “By the time I got in this woodsy cabin, everywhere else had been picked, and Robin was already nearly started the place on fire trying to start the wood stove before Nancy stepped in. So I guess?” He turned to you then. “Are we roomies?”

Between his lateness that caused you to sit in the car and freeze your ass off and having to now dig your things out from his mess, you pressed your mouth tight while thinking of your options. “I’ll be right back,” you told him, flashing a flat smile.

You didn’t give him time to answer before you left, seeking out Steve. You found him in the kitchen unpacking some of the refrigerated food. Walking right next to him, giving him a sweet look, you helped him put away some things.

His sigh filled the quiet space between you two. “What is it?”

“Have I ever told you how good your hair looks, Steve?” you asked.

“Of course. Now, what do you want?”

Groaning, you whispered, “I did not sign up for having Eddie Munson as my ‘snowy getaway’ roommate. Please switch with him. Or with me, I’m sure Robin is better.” You looked at her laughing in the living room while watching Nancy try to teach Jonathan to dance, unsuccessfully.

Steve let out a breathy laugh. “If you find uncontrollable snoring and sleep talking better, then maybe. But I already promised Robin I’d room with her. And you have those freezing fingers that I don’t want to wake up with on my back.”

“I promise I won’t do that, even if you are the greatest furnace I’ve ever known,” you begged.

He looked at you, stopping his unpacking and tilted his head. “What’s wrong with Eddie as your roommate? He’s not all that bad.”

You glanced back to your room to make sure he wasn’t listening. “I’m sure he’s not, but he’s been in there for two minutes and already trashed it. And I’m not exactly the type to share a bed with a stranger.”

“Well you could just talk to him. Or get to know him so you’re not strangers,” he offered, glancing toward the room. Your eyes followed, seeing that Eddie was walking out. You had meant what you said, that he wasn’t terrible – maybe you’d even like his sense of humor or laidback personality. But you already liked the rings wrapped around his fingers and the crinkles around his eyes – and all of that mixed with having to lay mere inches from him all night had you hesitating.

You quickly gritted out, “He could just sleep on the couch though” while bringing a smile to your face as Eddie approached.

Steve looked the same, leaning over to whisper, “Or you could.”

You’d seen the couch, a fancy one that looked as if it hadn’t ever been sat on. Your back hurt from just thinking about using it as a bed. There were no other quiet protests you could give before Eddie made it to you two, the chain on his jeans jingling with each step.

“Harrington, you seen a Walkman around here or in the van?”

Steve shook his head, sending his hair swishing along his face. “I’m sure you just missed it when shoving nearly everything you own into a single bag, Munson.”

“Except for extra underwear. I did forget those,” Eddie said with a sad sort of grin, though it turned happy at seeing your twisted face. “Just messing with you, roomie. Though I did forget toothpaste.” He pretended to bat his eyelashes, silently begging for you to share yours and only stopping once you gave in.

His hand patted Steve’s shoulder before walking away to ask the others whether they’d seen his Walkman. With a tight mouth, you just looked at Steve with pleading eyes.

“He can borrow some of mine,” he offered.

You leaned your head against his shoulder in a silent “thank you” before making your way back to the room, planning to unearth your bag to settle in. To your surprise, most of Eddie’s things were cleaned up – or at least shoved to one side of the bed, which you appreciated as you opened up your bag, putting away your things into the drawers.

This was okay. You’d only spend the nights in here, and that was only part of the day. You’d be having fun elsewhere the rest of this time out in the snow or sitting among friends in a nice cabin. This was still going to be a great getaway, no matter what came.

“Oh shit.”

Your head jerked up at the sound, your heart sinking for a moment at hearing Steve say those words. The music quieted down a little, sure someone had turned it down at the outburst. Making your way back, you found everyone else staring at Steve as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Anyone seen the packs of beer?” he asked, his voice low like he already knew the answer.

At everyone shaking their heads, Robin spoke up. “I thought you were bringing them.”

He nodded, putting his other hand on his hip – his classic mom pose. “Yeah, yeah I was. Except they’re back at my house, just sitting on the counter,” he sighed out. “I forgot them when running out of the house when Eddie pulled up.”

Groans echoed out in the space, a quiet “Way to go, Steve” from Robin joining them.

“Well, how about a trip into town? That could be nice,” Nancy offered, clasping her hands together. “Grab some beer, check out the stores too.”

Jonathan peered out the window, pulling open the blinds. “It’s stopped snowing for a bit. Is it supposed to pick back up?”

You shrugged your shoulders like the others, none of you having bothered to check the forecast. “I’m sure it’s fine. Let’s get this road trip going,” Robin said with a toothy grin.

“We already had a road trip,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, a mini road trip then. Maybe there’s a Family Video there, Steve. We could use our double employee discount to get The Apartment for basically free.”

“Robin, you’ve already seen that literally a hundred times,” he responded.

“But not a hundred and one times.”

You smiled at the sigh he gave as opened up his hand to Nancy. “I can drive.”

Nancy nodded, digging out her car keys before throwing them to him. Most of the others started making their way to the door. Though it wasn’t snowing, you weren’t yet ready to weather the cold so soon again.

“I might stick back here, if that’s okay. Stay warm for a little longer,” you told them, giving a small smile.

“Want us to pick you up anything?” Robin asked as she shoved a winter hat on her head.

You waved them off, happy enough to just have the place to yourself for a bit of quiet before everything got going. But your body stilled when Robin turned to look past you, asking, “What about you, Eddie?”

“Besides beer? Nah, I’m good,” his voice sounded. You began to chew on the inside of your cheek, suddenly debating on joining the group after all. Your chances of relaxing went down to zero, instead launching in the other direction of keeping you on edge.

But Steve gave you a pointed look, as if telling you to stay and get along with Eddie. Between his flared nostrils and a breeze pushing through as the front door opened, a fresh wave of frigid air coming through, you just swallowed hard and nodded. You gave them a wave and locked the door after they left, soon watching it pull away.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you slowly turned around, preparing yourself to say something to the near-stranger you shared this cabin (and bed) with. But all you saw was the tail-end of the towel sticking out of Eddie’s back pocket as he walked into the shared room, calling back, “Taking a shower” right before the door shut.

Standing in the middle of the cabin, staring at the space where Eddie had just been, your stomach twisted. This wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. Leaving you with the empty rooms of the rest of the place, you grabbed a snack from the kitchen and the book you’d left on the counter. Taking a blanket thrown over the back of the uncomfortable-looking couch, you sat in a La-Z-Boy next to it, tucking your feet under yourself. You weren’t sure how many pages you made it through before leaning your head back and slowly drifting off into sleep, the crackling of the fire and winds gusting outside weighing on your eyelids.

–

The second Eddie shut that door to shower, his mouth opened in a silent scream as his palms came up to his face. Only once he started the shower did he release a groan, fingers coming up to wind through his hair. He trashed the room of one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen? God, he must’ve looked so dumb and selfish looking for his Walkman.

Where did he put that damn thing anyway?

And he saw the way you talked with Steve right after, probably begging him to switch rooms. A sharp pang ran through his chest thinking of you running to mother hen Steve to tattle on Eddie – all spiraling because he’d forgotten to set his alarm last night. He deserved a little slack, right?

He would’ve tried to make a better introduction if he knew he’d be meeting you. He was sure someone had mentioned it earlier, but after hours of listening to whatever Steve and Robin deemed “music” in his van before being unable to escape it even here, his mind wasn’t altogether there.

He’d stayed back from the beer run to shelter from more musical soundtracks, but he hadn’t expected you to stay too. So here he was, standing in the bathroom, head resting against the tiled wall as he thought of the least annoying way to share this room – or at least not make you hate him during this weekend.

Eddie’s shower burned against his skin, scalding water dripping down him and washing away the bad start. The curls of his hair grew heavier as he washed it. At least this place had hot water.

As he dried off and dressed, his lungs filled deep with breaths and emptied them fully, preparing himself to face you again. Silently opening the door, squeezing his dripping hair with a towel, he padded across the floor back and forth for a while. He wasn’t sure how long he’d spent arguing with himself on how maybe hash this out, occasionally taking breaks to tidy his things further – maybe that’d help? As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, he threw down his towel he’d somehow picked up again to find you and fix this. And find you he did.

His breaths grew much shallower, quieter, at seeing you curled up in that plush chair, blanket and book resting against your body. Though he knew if you woke up to see him staring at you, there was no way you’d stop hating him. But your chest rose and fell in even waves, your eyelids twitching once in a while, your fingers intertwined with one another. And as he was about to turn around and go back into the room to leave you asleep and content – without him – his eyes returned to yours one last time to find them already staring at him.

–

The scream you let out rang through the air, echoed by expletives from Eddie. Hand clutched to your chest, you gritted out, “Why were you staring at me? You scared the shit out of me!”

His teeth clenched together, eyes wide, as he nearly yelled, “You? You scared the shit out of me. Jesus… just came out to check on you, got a fucking heart attack instead.”

Eyebrows screwed downward, you replied, “Is that how you check on people? By staring at them until they wake up?”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, though not quite as menacing as it could have been. “I’ll leave you out here to die next time, sweetheart.”

“Die? From what? The only thing that’s made me fear for my life was finding a mysterious man standing over me,” you scoffed, a hint of an incredulous smile across your face.

That made his face change, a growing smirk replacing his grimace. “Ah, so you think I’m mysterious,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and your eyes flicked down to his forearms more than once. And maybe at the way his damp hair curled against his shoulders.

“Mysterious like a man wearing a trenchcoat at the end of an alleyway, maybe,” you told him with a hint of laughter in your voice, your gaze rising up to see his face screwed tight.

“Yeah, well at least–”

Whatever retort Eddie had fell flat as the phone rang right next to you. Your gaze went between it and Eddie’s for a brief moment before you threw off the blanket and your book just as he scrambled to it as well. But your hand reached it first, your other pushing him away from getting it.

Your fingers grasped the handle, rasping into it, “Hello?”

“He- hello? Can you hear us?” The voice crackled through the receiver, though it sounded familiar. But Eddie by your side whispered, “Who is it?”

“Robin?” you asked, ignoring him.

“Hey!”

“Where are you all? You’ve been gone awhile,” you said, though only guessing from how much darker it seemed outside.

“Oh yeah, about that. We’re in the middle of butt-fuc– Hey!” The sound of rustling and distant voices talking over one another on the other end erupted into your ear before Nancy’s voice came into focus.

“Still there?” she asked, a bit out of breath.

“Still here, Nance,” a smile evident in your voice.

She huffed out a breath before speaking up again. “We’re stuck here in town. Snow blocked my car in while we were shopping – we can’t get it unstuck no matter what we try–” More noise comes from behind before Nancy’s voice comes from farther away as she says, “We are not using Steve for traction.”

You assumed she said that to Robin, and you’d laugh if you weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nancy let out a long sigh. “No one can come get out to us today… or even a few days if the storm stays this bad.”

Your eyebrows lowered into a deep valley. “Storm?” you asked. You craned your neck toward the nearest window, unable to see much outside with the sun far down now. As you did, you caught Eddie’s face in the reflection looking stern, making you turn to him.

He waved a hand at you, mouthing something that you only caught every other word of. You mouthed back “What?” but held up a finger as Nancy began speaking again – leaving Eddie with his arms crossed and jaw tightening.

“Yeah. Ugh, I was stupid not to check beforehand. But we’re not making it back tonight.”

“Not at all?” You knew the question didn’t quite make sense, but your eyes flicked to Eddie for a moment, your heart crawling up your throat. All it did was make him whisper-yell at you to tell him what was happening. “What about all of your things here?” you asked, your voice much quieter. There was no way they’d be able to walk all the way back, especially if this snowstorm was as bad as she was saying.

You could practically hear the frustration laced through Nancy’s words. “After we walk to the one motel this town has, we’re going to buy toiletries and things. We’ll try again tomorrow and call you, but in the meantime, are you two okay by yourselves? I know you and Eddie don’t know each other too well.”

Glancing at Eddie again brought his patience to an end, his legs bringing him to your side and holding the receiver between both of your heads to listen. The proximity of his body so close to you all of a sudden had you stepping back, eyes merely blinking at him as you tried to answer, but the way he looked at you didn’t make words come any easier. Eventually, you let out, “Uh, yeah, we should be okay. We brought enough food to last us.”

His gaze held yours, his eyebrows raising high at your words. He mouthed, “Why?” but Nancy responded first.

“Good, good. Okay,” she breathed out, “Sorry about all this, but we’ll hopefully see you tomorrow then.”

You didn’t think Eddie’s face could’ve twisted further in confusion, but you were mistaken. “Yeah, see you, Nance,” you said, your own voice feeling distant from where your mind was at. The line clicked to an end after saying goodbye, the receiver falling limply with your hand.

Before you could even collect your thoughts, Eddie spat out, “Can you finally tell me what the hell is going on?”

Your head jerked back just an inch before your eyes rolled. This was going to be a longer weekend than you ever thought. Instead of answering him, you walked to the cabin’s front door, pulling it open carefully so the wind didn’t fling it off its hinges. Standing there, gazing out into the world, you felt Eddie’s feet walk across the floor until they stopped next to you.

With the front porch lights illuminating the way, you could see heavy flakes pelting down onto growing piles of snow. It wasn’t nearly as much of a surprise as to how their car had gotten buried so fast after seeing how much snow blanketed the world.

“They’re stuck – staying in town tonight,” you finally muttered. “They’re shit out of luck.”

He rubbed a hand down his face, fingers tangling in his hair as a groan rumbled up his throat. “No, we’re shit out of luck. Jesus.”

Despite the view of endless stars littering the sky, goosebumps started littering your skin. Your hands grasped the door handle and pushed it shut and locked before resting your head against the thick wood.

“Well,” Eddie said from behind, making you turn and watch him shift from one foot to the other, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “At least we don’t have to share a bed anymore.”

You let out a mostly unamused snort, lifting your head to shake it back and forth. “That’s the least of your problems. They had all the beer.”

“Shit…”

–

The two of you had nearly started a fire and a fistfight in the kitchen while trying to make a late-night dinner. This cabin felt ancient, none of the appliances working how either of you thought they would. Eddie tried to come in to help, hoping it’d mend some sort of relationship between the two of you, but he ended up pulling off one of the dials. Instead, while he piled up logs high into the wood stove for the night, not knowing if any of what he was doing was right, you rummaged through food to make a couple sandwiches.

In silence, you two sat at a creaky dining table and ate a meal that wouldn’t fill you up and that would have you searching for snacks in the middle of the night. But he was having dinner with you, trying to not stare at you too much – though, part of him thought “How could he not?” There was a way you spoke, lived, breathed that had him strangely captivated and wanting to know more.

“So…” he started saying in between bites of his surprisingly delicious sandwich, “do you forgive me yet for scaring you?” He tried to sound sincere, but a wry smile rose along his cheeks.

Tilting your head, you told him, “Might be my memory, but I don’t quite remember you apologizing for it, Eddie.”

As his name rolled off your tongue, he couldn’t stop his face from flushing for a second. But his grin came back almost immediately. “Think it’s your memory then.”

“While how about you refresh it for me,” you said, looking at him expectantly. The crackling of the fire filled the air between you, its heat wrapping around his body while you waited.

A few emotions crossed his face, determining the right way to do this, before he finally said, “Sorry about it.” He shrugged. “Not sure you could blame me for staring me for staring at you, though I didn’t realize you were so jumpy.”

Eddie’s throat felt tighter as he swallowed down the risk he took to say that, but he’d say it a million more times if it meant to see the way you paused, your face turning shy as you looked away.

“See…” you said, your voice returning to you as you pointed at him with your sandwich, “I don’t think that’s a very good apology. Not sure why it’d make me forgive you.”

“It came from my heart.” His hand came to rest on his chest, right above his heart with a solid thump. His fingertips felt the way it beat just a bit too fast for his liking. His apology wasn’t good, but it got you to talk to him some more, and that felt like enough.

Flat-toned, you told him, “Sounds like you should go to a cardiologist, cause your heart gives shit apologies.”

Dramatically, he pretended to stab a stake through his chest. “Great, now you’ve wounded me.”

“Clean up dinner and I’ll forgive you, okay?” You stood up with a smile you tried to hold back, only moving to the living room once he wordlessly nodded. “Thanks.”

He felt glad you weren’t watching at how fast he put the few ingredients away and tidied up the table. He glanced at you while you gathered up your things, your face a bit shyer as you approached him.

“Gonna get ready and head to bed. See you in the morning, yeah?” you said, making a pang hit his chest in a way that left him confused and nearly breathless.

“Yeah, sleep well,” he muttered, hands back in his pockets and playing with the coins left in there.

Standing in the cabin alone as your door shut, only accompanied by the hot fire and chilling winds outside, had Eddie walking to bed with too-loud thoughts. Had he won you over? The way his body seemed to care so much about the answer to that question didn’t help his tiredness as he climbed into bed.

–

Despite the constantly creaking house under the harsh force of the storm’s wind, the night passed quietly at first, only accompanied by your occasional tossing and turning. You went to Steve and Robin’s bed that night, leaving Eddie in the one you were supposed to share with him. You thought of your friends and hopefully what plans they had in store for all of you once they made it back tomorrow.

Robin had a million movie recommendations for the group to watch. Nancy brought games for you all to play. Mostly, you just wanted to catch up with everyone that you hadn’t seen in awhile, happy to finally find a time to be together, but look where you were…

Sleep came and went, and came and went again until you woke up a few hours later with a chill climbing up your spine. Your weary blinks barely did anything, the room soaked in dark. Though if you had been able to see, you would’ve expected to see your breath billow out into the air.

How did it get so cold? Squeezing your eyes shut, you willed yourself to curl tighter against yourself and fall back asleep. But it evaded you, slipping away through chilled fingers and goosebump flesh.

No part of your body agreed, but you slid out of the bed with a blanket wrapped around you. Your feet curled against the cold floor as you made your way to the fire stove, doing your best to not run into anything.

In the dark, you could spot the last embers in the fire stove still dying out. Shit, you hadn’t been paying attention to where Steve’s family kept the logs. While searching in the dark for a light switch or the logs, pain erupted through your toe as you stubbed it against something.

A subdued groan stuck in your throat, one hand over your mouth while the other went to your toe as you bent down. Breaths came from your nose in rough bursts, the cold air only making the pain worse.

Feeling around, you vaguely recognized what you ran into as Eddie’s bag he’d brought out at some point last night. You silently cursed him before making your way to his room, exhaustion fueled by the cold weighing on your eyelids and shoulders, slowing you down.

Fingers wrapped tight around the blanket still, you knocked on his door once, twice, three times… you lost count when he didn’t answer. Fed up, you creaked the door open and whispered, “Eddie?”

Only once you repeated his name louder did he stir, his mouth releasing a groan from beneath the sheets.

“Hey, Munson. Where’s the firewood?” you asked, walking closer to him.

His hand came up to rub at his eyes. “Jesus,” he mumbled, “it’s freezing in here.”

He couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. The wood stove burned out, where’s more firewood?”

“I used the last of it when I filled it. Thought it’d last us awhile.”

You didn’t want to absolutely lose it on Eddie, but the heat of your frustration felt welcome in your cold body. “You used the last of the firewood in a winter storm? Are you trying to get us killed?”

He sighed out, “I’m sure there’s more somewhere.”

“Where?”

“How should I know?” he asked, sleep still laced through all of his words. You envied him and wanted to strangle him. “We can look in the morning or call Harrington, okay?”

“And what, do we freeze until then?” you asked, pulling your arms in closer to your body. You weren’t sure you had enough layers to last you that long.

Shifting himself over, Eddie offered, “You could join me to share body heat or whatever, or you could leave. Either way, I’m falling asleep in the next 60 seconds.”

Your face twisted, nails digging into the softness of your blanket. Part of you wondered whether freezing during the night would’ve been better than sharing a bed with Eddie, the first thing you tried to avoid after getting here.

But his hand flopped over near you, and you could feel the warmth of him washing onto your thigh. With a final shiver through your spine that you blamed on the cold and nothing else, you grumbled, “Let me in. And watch your hands.”

He held up his hands as if to show you he wouldn’t dare, not that you really expected him to. Climbing into the bed, your body relished in being near him. Your tired muscles loosened with the heat as you curled against him while he laid on his back.

“Shit!” Eddie nearly yelped as your cold feet accidentally brushed against the skin of his legs.

“Oh suck it up and warm me, Munson.” You pressed closer to him still despite his protests, and despite the nerves firing inside you. Your blanket stayed wrapped around you like a burrito, acting as a barrier between your bodies at least a little bit. Maybe it’d be enough to let you fall asleep without overthinking all of this.

But the blanket constricted your upper half, so as you wiggled against Eddie to get comfortable, you brought your arm across his chest. Hoping that didn’t go too far, you began to ask him, “Is this oka– are you not wearing a shirt?”

Pulling back a bit, you tried to look him in the eye… and maybe lower. But the darkness obscured any glimpse.

“Got warm when going to bed. Shirt’s somewhere on the floor. S’that okay?” For once, his voice sounded void of teasing. Instead, you could tell he angled his head to try and get a look at you as well.

Settling back against him, laying your head against his shoulder and pressing your body to his, you nodded. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Was it okay? Your fingers rested along his ribs and unable to get the feeling of his bare chest out of your body’s memory.

The weight of his hand resting against your back and the slight tickle of his wild hair brushing along your face warmed more than just your skin. All of this breathed intimate, made you close in more than a physical way.

“Good night, Eddie,” you whispered. Your body began to relax as the chill left in favor of the blooming warmth he provided you.

Against your head, he whispered back, “Good night, sweetheart.”

You thought sleep would be impossible while wrapped together with him, and while calling you those pet names, but the comfort of your breath falling in line with his had you tipping toward exhaustion. And though you seemed to be bursting with thoughts and questions, Eddie had vowed to go back to bed soon, so you shut your eyes to let him sleep, falling into unconsciousness within moments.

–

Eddie did not fall asleep soon, not even close to the 60 seconds that he had told you. Not with you snuggled this close to him, your soft breath sliding against his skin with each exhale. He was sure you’d fallen asleep then, little noises sounding from the back of your throat kept his mind racing and his body all too aware of yours.

When your thumb had rubbed back and forth along his skin, his brain went blank then burst back online when his stomach tingled. Did he really have god damn butterflies from that? At least it seemed he’d won you back over from pure annoyance to mild tolerance.

He hadn’t told you, but he’d been cold too. Eddie absolutely wouldn’t have told you about the way his heart lept into his mouth when asking you to stay in the bed together. Or how wide his smile had gotten when you actually said yes. Each time you twitched, he feared you had gotten cold again or had some bad dream. But there you stayed, in his arms.

No part of him could tell what time it was by the time his tingling nerves finally settled and warmed. Dipping toward unconsciousness, he knew he’d sleep better than he had in a long time. And he did, with you pulled tight against him and refusing to let go.

–

The sun peeked its body up above the horizon. Light streaming in painted the frosting swirls adorning the window in a rainbow of shades. The absolute silence out here in the winter felt welcome against your ears. Through everything this trip had brought, at least you had time to sleep in.

And Eddie took full advantage of that. As your eyes blinked open, you found him out cold – but he certainly didn’t feel cold. The first thing touching your awareness was the feeling of Eddie pressed against your back, the rising of his chest and pounding of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped across your ribs and came to rest his hand on top of yours.

Silently, a soft smile rose on your face as his nose nuzzled against the back of your neck. Who knew he loved to cuddle so much? As each quiet minute passed, you seemed to care less and less about the minor ways he had annoyed you through this trip so far. Well, not completely – but at least this was nicer than bickering with him or being stuck outside.

Despite the chill still in the air, your body ached to stand and stretch. As you slipped from Eddie’s grasp, you glanced back at him. In the morning light drifting past the curtains, you could get a better look at him. But only a short one, not wanting a repeat of what he’d done to you yesterday. Facing you, your gaze took longer than you’d like to escape from staring at his arms and chest or how his hair cascaded across his face and onto the skin of his shoulders.

He had nice shoulders.

Shaking your head, you opened the door to let him continue resting, which apparently he really needed. While he slept in through most of the morning, you’d managed to make breakfast, get washed up and ready for the day (and covered in many, many layers) and actually read this time – with the record player on its lowest volume. Through the busyness of work and college, you found it hard to capture (let alone appreciate) moments like these anymore.

You’d checked outside again and again to see whether the snow had miraculously melted since you last looked. But each time you pulled back the curtains, the blanket across the land still sat there – though snow continued to fall, it drifted slower now. Its quiet and undisturbed body looked peaceful, comforting in a way despite everything.

Though not unwelcome, the soft air broke once the phone rang. With quick footsteps, you went to it and picked up, rushing out, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Nancy again,” the voice on the other side breathed through the receiver.

Maybe you should’ve asked how she was or how she slept, you skipped past any pleasantries. “Any good news?” you asked.

The sigh Nance let out told you the answer before her words did. “Wish I had some. Everywhere within a hundred miles is facing exactly what we are. No one’s getting anywhere for a bit, barely even plows.”

You swallowed down a deep groan, your fingers tightening around the phone. “There’s no way you’re getting here today?”

“Maybe, if we’re lucky. I’m sorry.” And she did sound sorry, but she was the one stuck in a motel room in a tiny town buried in snow.

“Don’t worry… I’m sorry you’re roomin’ it in that motel for the time being. And with those two children,” you laughed out, breathing easier when hearing Nancy’s laugh too. You vaguely heard her say something else, but you turned to look at Eddie’s room to see the door open.

Your eyes roamed across his sleepy state as he walked toward you, the back of his hand coming up to rub against his eye as he yawned. His hair laid at odd angles, the curls raining down on a faded Judas Priest shirt he now wore, which hung down onto a pair of black sweatpants. You couldn’t quite look away, a warmth in your chest at seeing him in such a state. Only hearing your name through the phone brings you back.

“Sorry Nance, what was that?” you ask, shaking your head and keeping your gaze elsewhere.

“Just wishing you luck on your extended vacation with Eddie,” she said, a slight humor in her voice, almost as if she knew what just went through your head.

You nodded even though she couldn’t see – maybe she could apparently, or you were just that obvious – but you followed up with, “Yeah, good luck too. Keep us updated?”

“Of course,” she said, and your mouth pressed tight. Perhaps from missing out on this time with her or perhaps from the impending conversation with Eddie in a second.

“Oh wait!” you said louder, “Please ask Steve where the extra firewood is. We’ve burnt through it.”

Nancy mused out loud, “We should’ve had one of you there when he explained all this. One second, I’ll ask.” You imagined her whispering to Steve while Robin was still asleep.

While sounds of shifting and moving went through the background, you watched as Eddie grabbed the blanket you’d been using on the couch and wrapped himself in a burrito. You turned away to hide your smile, thankful Nancy came back.

“Hey, he says it’s out back in a log rack. And that you only need to put some in the stove at a time, not too many or it’ll burn out faster,” she explained to you.

You thanked her, and the click of putting the receiver back echoed through the room. A silence settled before Eddie finally asked, “They on their way back yet?”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you angled toward him as you answered, “Uh, no. Quite the opposite, actually. There’s a small chance they get back today.” Gesturing to the window with the head, you followed with, “Snow’s probably not stopping soon.”

You allowed yourself to glance back at him while he looked past the curtains, knocking his head against the glass with a groan. “This storm has a vengeance against my quest for beer.”

Letting a laugh out through your nose caused him to stare at you, eyebrows furrowing in a way to ask you what was so funny. Shrugging, you told him, “You certainly have a flair for dramatics.”

He crossed his arms as he stood tall. “Maybe you’re not being dramatic enough. We’re stuck here for a whole weekend.”

With wide eyes, you asked, “Oh, having to stay here with me calls for melodrama and agony?” Eddie’s face looked hesitant, even speechless for a second, until you were unable to hold back your smile anymore.

His eyes roll back, his usual demeanor coming back quickly. “You’re the one that didn’t want to share a bed with me, sweetheart.”

Your fingers came to pick at the hem of your shirt, eyes drifting downward. Your grin fell, throat tight as you struggled to explain yourself. “I, uh…”

His shrug followed with, “S’alright. We made up for it last night.” He let out a small laugh, one that didn’t quite ease your embarrassment. “Where’s this firewood though? Freezing my tits off here.”

That did get a giggle from you and let your shoulders ease a little. If Steve were here, he’d give you an “I told you so” about communication or whatever, but you were just glad Eddie wasn’t too upset.

Still, you couldn’t stop your sigh as you told him, “Firewood’s out back in some log rack apparently.”

Raising his eyebrows and pulling his blanket tighter, all he offered was, “Well, good luck. Have fun with that. I’ll be here to warm you up again when you get back.”

“Ahh… no. You’re the reason it burned out in the middle of the night. So if anyone is going out by themselves, it’s you, Munson.” You crossed your arms, letting the silence grow louder as you two stared each other down.

“Fine! We’ll both go,” Eddie gritted out, shuffling back to his room. You slipped on boots, a hat (or two), gloves, and your coat. You were plenty tired of the all too familiar chill aching through your body.

But as Eddie came back out, you barely contained an explosive laugh at seeing him covered up. A ratty sweatshirt bulged against him, clear that he wore many layers beneath it. And he at least had on two pairs of pants.

“Not one word,” he muttered, about to grab his shoes when you convinced him to wear Steve’s boots he’d left here. You also spent too long forcing him to put on a hat – it would “ruin this perfect hairdo” he told you, but you won out.

You were sure the two of you resembled young children bundled up and unable to move well by the time you opened up the front door. The porch allowed you to open it at all, unlike the back door that had a growing wall of snow barricading it.

Both of your boots crunched as you walked around the cabin. Despite trying to shield your face from the wind that seemed to come from every direction, the view you had certainly didn’t get old. Thick trees weighed down with fresh snow all spanning for miles, looking like a scene out of an old Christmas movie.

Nearing the other side, you spotted a rack with a tarp over it, sure to be piled high with logs. Your freezing fingers clenched at the promise of warmth soon. Just as you were about to look for the logs, you felt a thud against your back along with muffled laughter. Eyes narrowed and jaw tight, you turned around to see Eddie very obviously looking away from you, pretending nothing happened – like he didn’t just pelt you with a snowball.

But in his act, he didn’t see you bend down to form your own snowball between your gloved hands. Packing it tight, you pulled back your arm and let it fly, hitting him square in the chest as he turned toward you at the last second.

There was no stopping the shit-eating grin on your face at his mouth dropping open or the way his gaze steeled. The look pierced past all the ridiculous layers, making you feel a little less cold out there. The way his head tilted to the side, awaiting him to make some cocky comment that’d have you internally stuttering – it kept you still, even as he bent down.

“Oh, you are so fucked,” he told you, packing another snowball.

He had no idea how right he was.

The second he stood back up with his ammo, your legs took off in the other direction, feet slipping through the snow as you ran from him. Though the icy air sharpened against your face, your grin stayed, now accompanied by uncontrollable laughter as Eddie chased you.

Rounding the next side of the house, you slipped around the corner to press against the wall, hiding from his view. His own laughter grew louder as he followed, making your teeth sink into your lip to stop from letting out any noise.

As he ran full speed around the corner, which wasn’t that fast in knee deep snow that wormed its way into your boots, you jumped out at him. Your hands landed on his shoulders with a slap, forcing a scream from his throat and his hand to release the snowball.

But he flew back in surprise, his legs tangling with yours and bringing you both down into the sea of snow. White powder billowed up and around your bodies, some of it wiggling into your exposed neck and wrists.

And yet, you weren’t complaining as you landed with your body pressed against Eddie’s, half of your chest on top of his – your faces only a breath apart.

Perhaps you should’ve scrambled back, apologized, or even laughed at him for screaming, but you admired the snowflakes littering his dark hair like constellations against a night sky. Then you glanced to the soft red covering his cheeks and nose, sure that it came from the cold but hoped it grew from something more.

Eddie’s breathing rose and fell beneath you, pressing close and then all too far a second later. You thought you might’ve caught his doe eyes glancing toward your mouth, yours doing just the same, but as he shifted closer, more snow dipped on the back of his neck and down his coat.

“Shit!” he yelled, flying up to try and shake it out, breaking whatever had held you two together for that all too brief moment.

You sat there with a smile, watching him scramble to rid himself of the quickly melting snow. Letting out a long sigh, you stood up and waited until he calmed before nodding your head back toward the logs.

Moment broken indeed as you began to sweat trying to grab as many logs in your arms as possible – no part of you wanting to trudge back out here. Between the two of you, there stood (balanced precariously, really) a sizable amount of logs to fuel the wood stove for a while.

Your body felt a little lighter as the layers of clothes dropped to the floor, your cold cheeks beginning to warm up back inside and out of the wind. This time, you loaded the logs and set the stove ablaze, declaring the spot directly in front as yours for the next half hour.

Eddie, of course, had none of that. He plopped himself next to you, pressed against your side – claiming “it had the most heat, stop hogging it.”

You didn’t stop, not when the still-warming skin of your arm goosebumped as it touched his. The veins running along his forearm occupied most of your thoughts while you two sat there in silence, only interrupted by occasional complaining of a different body part being cold and cursing of this storm.

“You warmed up?” Eddie asked, turning his head to look at you.

If you turned to him, you’d get caught up in the deep brown of his eyes or how soft his lips looked, so continued staring at the flames in front of you. You’d been plenty warm for some time now, but if you told him that, then you’d have to leave his side.

But before you could speak, he brought a hand up to scratch at his neck as he continued, “Cause I was thinking we could watch one of those movies Robin brought.”

Oh, that you could do. “Yeah. You can pick, I’ll go search for that popcorn Nancy put somewhere,” you said, getting up and finding it before he noticed how scattered your brain was becoming.

The TV came to life as kernels popped in the pan you shook on the stove. As you watched each one burst, the nerves of being with Eddie settled back in your body, sleeping against your spine. This weekend hadn’t gone as any of you expected, especially not with seeing this near stranger as cute, charming even – not that you’d tell him that.

And rather than watch The Apartment as planned, you realized you didn’t want Eddie to be a stranger anymore. So you pestered him with questions, not that he seemed bothered. You loved hearing about Uncle Wayne and the auto shop Eddie worked at, or his D&D campaign he was planning at the moment. Not with that smile when you told him about your family, friends, and how work was going. He even vowed to fight your annoying coworker if he ever saw him in public – like you had promised to check out Corroded Coffin when you made it back.

“Like, I know we fight literal demons in our game, but are you sure Tanner isn’t one of them? I mean, who falls asleep in the only bathroom? And locks it!” Eddie said, shaking his head as he filled his mouth with more popcorn.

“Right?” you said in between salty bites, “But as long he doesn’t show up at The Hideout, I’m coming for your show next month.”

And you’d give him a million more promises if it meant making that look spread across his face again – excited grin, cheeks squishing up to make his shining eyes shut. Wow. Maybe you’d put too many logs in, the air feeling much warmer now.

But it was easy, so surprisingly simple to spend the day with Eddie. He played you some of his favorite songs while you both laid on the ground, heads next to each other but feet pointing opposite directions. Every time he bopped his head to the beats, his hair brushed against you. The way his hands shot up to play an imaginary guitar and softly mouth the lyrics had you holding back giggles.

This time, he tried making you dinner. And he did make a surprisingly good plate of pasta – without burning the whole place down. While eating, he nodded along to what you said as if every word quenched some sort of thirst he had for listening to you, for learning everything there was about you. He had this air about him of confidence, but past that, in those soft moments, you saw him settle into a quieter form of himself – one that calmed you too.

And reaching the end of the night, you awaited his question. Whether you’d be staying in his bed again. The fire was fixed; it’d stay lit throughout the night. But the two of you threw on another movie, maybe just so you didn’t have to confront that just yet in case you would separate ways. Your eyelids drooped and you yawned so hard it shook through your body. And that tiredness made your decision just a little easier.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered, resting his hand on your arm and shaking it gently. “Let’s get to bed, alright?”

Your head had drifted down until it rested against his shoulder, so it ruffled his shirt as you gave him a few sleepy nods. Shutting the TV off, he grabbed your hand and led you toward the bedrooms. As he slowed at the split between the two doorways, you kept shuffling your feet, pulling him into his room. Not bothering with getting ready, afraid it would break the unspoken moment between you two, you climbed into the bed and took the leap, holding out your arm as he had the night before.

–

God, he took the space next to you so quick. But he kept his movements gentle, not wanting to rock you out of your sleepy state in case it woke you from this dream you’d created. Eddie settled in, wrapping himself around you and under the covers. Jesus, he spent all night working up a way to ask you for this.

A deep sigh loosened from his lungs that you had done it instead. Maybe it’d been the way your eyes lit up whenever he made you laugh before they shut as you turned breathless, clutching your stomach. Or how excited you got talking about your favorite show at the time, your hands flying through the air.

It’s not that you were intimidating, but you sure made him feel intimidated – nervous that he’d say the wrong thing and make that beautiful smile drop. But it didn’t. He could still see it in the faint light coming from the hallway, and it only grew as he pressed his body against yours.

Eddie really wanted to stay awake, on purpose this time. To enjoy this time as he stroked a thumb along the soft skin of your hip peeking out from under your shirt. But your heartbeat pumped against him, your breath made his fall in line to yours like a steady conductor – leading him right into sleep along with you. And he followed you without question.

–

It was in the late morning that you it happened, it finally came together. Half-awake, you laid your arm on the one wrapped along your stomach. It pulled against you, bringing you closer to the chest behind you. You weren’t yet aware enough to recognize that you weren’t dreaming, that it was Eddie also on the cusp of sleep holding you.

Not until did his lips connect to the point where your neck slopes into your shoulder did your eyes shoot open, any bit of tiredness inside you disappearing in a moment. Your head turned back to look at him, seeing his own eyes shut before also blinking open at your sudden movement.

He glanced between where he’d just kissed and your face, a blush rising to his cheeks as his mouth opened and closed wordlessly. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, um…” he stammered out before pulling his arm and scooting back until no part of him touched you anymore.

You’d done it – you’d broken the tension in the ugliest way, and you felt cold without him there. Turning to fully face him, you rambled to try to fix this in some way. “No, no, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry, really I should be the one sorry for taking your bed and forcing you to sleep next to me–”

“You didn’t force me–”

“But it’s really okay because it was cold that first night and so it made sense. And we both weren’t really awake just now, and–” You’d gotten up now to pace, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. You didn’t want that extra space between you, but he’d done it first and maybe that’s what he actually wanted.

–

Shit. Shit. Shit. How could he kiss you in his sleep? What a god damn idiot. Though he understood why he did it, watching you pace and float through the room like some angel he felt undeserved to kiss.

–

As you glanced at him for just a second, you saw the way his fists squeezed the blanket between his fingers. Oh, how could you have been so stupid to misinterpret things, and now you’ve made him uncomfortable.

Taking a long breath, you finished with, “I’m sorry, Eddie.” Your hand clasped onto your other one as you shifted from foot to foot.

With a hand rubbing down his face, he shook his head. “I’m the one that kissed you, and you’re apologizing,” he laughed out. “I didn’t mean to do that, especially without asking or something first, Jesus.”

You barely heard his next words that he spoke to himself, but your ears held on to every word. “Maybe my subconscious had gotten into my thoughts…”

Your teeth dug into the inside of your cheek as you contemplated your next sentence, the rabid butterflies ravaging your stomach. Pursing your lips, you quietly asked, “So… you would have wanted to do that if we were both awake?”

And his face shot up, those eyes the color of melting chocolate meeting yours. He climbed from his side of the bed, shuffling toward you – one of his steps for every three of your racing heartbeats. “Yeah, of course. But I didn’t even ask if you wanted that…” he said, leaving his unspoken question hang in the air.

Fighting the smile trying to rise up, you said, “So, you should probably ask then, Munson.” And the kind light shining from his eyes turned brighter into a tall flame threatening to burn you both. There it was, that cocky way he had.

His hand reached to grab yours, giving it a squeeze before he finally said it. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, gaze unsure of where to stay, definitely your mouth it seemed.

You tried to come up with a million different ways to say yes, to tell him that you couldn’t stand another second without him being pressed against you again. As your mouth opened, a creaking noise came from the front of the cabin, followed by voices.

“We’re alive!” Steve shouted as the group walked through the door and stomped off snow from their shoes. Other words shot through the air, destroying the haven the two of you had made. Dropping your forehead against Eddie’s, you sighed out a breathless “Yes” that fell flat against his cheek.

–

Fuckin’ Harrington.

A/n: Thank you so much for reading. Reblogging and commenting make my day (and make me love you), so I’d love to hear what you thought! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things

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sirenium · 18 days

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Warning: some parts of this may come off as insensitive, dark, and/or concerning on my end. I do not give a fuck about that; I've read through this multiple times, made sure to tweak things, but I'm not going to walk on eggshells anymore for the comfort of someone else right now I am so fucking tired. So if you're offended by something cold or brass that I said, leave me alone about it. Go do your self care routine and take care of yourself, but don't make it my problem. I'm autistic. I likely have ASPD and almost certainly NPD. I am going to say things sometimes that are way more mask off than what you'd expect, because neurotypicals love playing games and hiding what they fucking mean or are too scared to say what they mean in fear of harming someone's feelings. I've developed this, to an extent, because it is necessary to survive. But no, this is my blog, my feelings and thoughts, and I deserve a space to be honest for fuck's sake! Don't like that I'm not playing games? I'd suggest clicking off or scrolling by now. That said:

neurotypicals are so annoying about empathy and compassion. No Sarah, my ability to not be scarred and shaking from a gore video or a distressing audio does not make me an edgelord or a sociopath. I think it's dramatic and theatrical to put so much effort into caring about strangers, it's a weakness. But you know what I don't do? I don't go 'lol you're just soft haha' to their faces (which I've seen other people do) because that's fucking cringe. I know people react to certain things differently even if it seems fake and overemotional to me. But these people go out of their way to whine about an insensitive joke on the INTERNET or someone not being phased by something. Also, you don't know if the people making jokes are really unphased or just coping with humor, you can't just fucking psychoanalyze and armchair diagnose a random person on the internet!

(school shooting, human and animal death mention under the cut):

You don't need to piss your pants every time someone dies in order to register that the death shouldn't have happened. It's like with the latest school shooting, I don't react all that much to school shootings because wow, another one? how many useless deaths happened this time (note: useless as in it could have been easily prevented)? You know how I feel about lack of gun control? I think it's dumb! I think children shouldn't have to go to school with the fear of not coming home due to some fucker with a gun! If that makes me a sociopath to *checks notes* react logically and not emotionally to tragedies, then so be it.

The truth is that I'm just autistic. It's true that I have antisocial traits, but I'm not a 'sociopath' in the sense that people mean it. People think I'm manipulating them when it couldn't be farther from the fuckin truth, and I grew out of hurting living things so I'm not going to kick your dog to death or dismember someone's grandma. By the way, can we stop equating that word with cold blooded killer? I've been told I behave like a serial killer by a counselor for things such as separation anxiety, even compared to JEFFREY DAHMER as a teenager by a stranger online for viewing gore as a beautiful thing (I'm now painfully aware how bizarre that view is to 'normal' people, but it doesn't make me a serial killer to be fascinated by gore in such a way). Joke's on both of those people, I haven't killed anyone yet like they clearly thought I would.

I'm used to 'sociopath' being used as a word to dehumanize and demonize me and people like me. But hell is it annoying for pop psychology girlies to think everyone is sociopathic for not extending their emotions to yet another death. Death happens every day, how are you not used to it? You'd think everyone would be used to it by now, and this does not mean to lack the drive to want to change the world. But of course, the 'empath' phenomenon has done massive damage to the collective human psyche. You know the type of person I'm talking about: the 'narc/antisocial/borderline/histrionic abuse' pedaling, 'hyper empathetic' girlie who makes it their whole personality to be so kind! So caring! So empathetic and compassionate!

I hate these people. They're so all of the above until someone has a cluster B disorder or general lack of empathy. Then suddenly they aren't very caring and kind, nor compassionate with an abundance of empathy! But yes, the autist who doesn't distinguish between a human being and a Gmod NPC unless given reason is the problem, not somebody shitting on an entire group of people with personality disorders (sarcasm).

It's just irritating, and I felt like talking about it.

#npd #aspd #autism #low empathy #actually cluster b #actually autistic #school shooting tw #animal violence tw

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aquariius-rising · 10 months

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Cozy

18+ MDNI, Sasuke Uchiha x fem!reader // established relationship, fluff, smut, fingering, mention of body worship, modern au

You sighed, leaning into your boyfriend’s chest as you balanced the bowl of popcorn on your lap. An old movie played in the background while you were both draped in a knit blanket.

You were both stuck inside due to an unexpected snowstorm that covered the city in a thick layer of snow. The street outside your home was empty since no one dared to drive. Since there was no warning, the sidewalks were frozen over, posing a hazard for the most sturdy pedestrians.

Since moving into your current apartment together, Sasuke embraced seasonal festivities. He could barely remember holidays before dating you, but now he decorates weeks early.

You bring clarity to his life that he could have imagined for himself. He wondered what he did to get so lucky as you smiled at him, your eyes filled with adoration.

Even Sasuke’s closest friends were surprised when he told them he wanted to pursue you. You were always so upbeat and sweet, and he was extremely reserved and irritable. You made an odd couple, but your dynamic was a loving one.

So far, you’ve done nothing productive for the day; instead, you played games and binged holiday movies. After showering earlier that morning, neither of you felt like getting dressed in real clothes, so you suggested wearing the matching pajama set you conveniently purchased for such an occasion.

You gripped your boyfriend’s hand before his talented fingers could sneak beneath your waistband, earning a quiet ‘tch’ from him. You pretended you couldn’t feel his hardening length poking your lower back as you concentrated on the movie.

After all, the main character was about to confess her love for the small-town lumberjack. You intertwined your fingers with his and lightly kissed in between his knuckles.

Sasuke knew you were being coy. He loved your humor and how comfortable you were with him. He was used to people throwing themselves at him and catering to him because of his last name.

He smirked. He could also play coy. He intercepted your hand as you tried to eat another handful of popcorn and forced you to feed him. His tongue darted out to suck your index and middle fingers before he released your wrist.

You turned to face him, indignant. Sasuke’s face didn’t betray what he was feeling, but you knew your boyfriend well enough to know he was teasing you right back.

“Do you need something, darling?” you asked, fluttering your eyelashes. Sasuke smirked but did not answer. You leaned closer to him.

“If not, I’d love to continue watching this movie,” you drawled, turning around to watch the screen.

Moments later, Sasuke wordlessly took the bowl of popcorn from you and placed it on the coffee table. His hands moved you until you were facing him again, your legs on either side of his. You could feel him more in this position, and without even realizing it, you were grinding your clothed pussy against him. Sasuke shivered, reveling in the feeling of your warmth.

“I know how it ends,” he says as he pulls your arms toward him and forces you closer. You peered into his beautiful dark eyes, curious about what he would say next.

“The uptight executive from the city realizes that she’s been letting life pass her by, so she moves to the small town to appreciate the little things,” he continues, holding your gaze with his.

Sasuke’s hips rolled languidly against yours, eliciting a mewl from you. He smiled and placed open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“I don’t understand why the lumberjack won’t encourage her to stay in the city,” he continued, lifting your crewneck and running his hands up and down your sides.

“She has a good life there. And Wi-Fi. And she can’t pursue any of her passions outside of the city. They could be a long-distance couple, don’t you think?” Your mind was hazy, and you could only respond with a wanton moan.

Sasuke pulled your sweatshirt over your head, bearing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

“Wanna watch…” you murmured. Sasuke’s mouth found your chest and he pulled one of your nipples into his mouth while he reached for the remote.

“We can pause the movie and take an intermission. It’s not like we have anywhere to be,” Sasuke said, voice muffled by your soft skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair.

“D’you want me to stop?” he asked. His hand finally made its way between your thighs. His fingers teased your already wet entrance. You rolled your hips once more in a vain attempt at feeling more of him.

“N-no, need you so bad Sasuke,” you whimpered. Sasuke pushed you gently so that you were now on your back. He hovered over you and drank in the sight of you all flustered and needy for his touch.

He’d take his time with you tonight. He’d worship every inch of you in phases between each stupid movie. He’d make sure to make you feel as blissful as he’s felt since being with you.

The snow continued to chill the air outside, but the two of you remained cozy and warm.

#sasuke x reader #sasuke x y/n #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x you #sasuke #smut #sasuke smut

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anonymousromanticpoet · 3 months

Text

Candelight Confessions (Miguel x Robby)

This is Kiaz. It's gay, it's funny, I wrote this instead of watching TV. They also are technically stepbrothers-ish, so if that weirds you out, leave. They're not blood relatives so I feel like it's ok, but that's just one man's opinion. Warning: Sexual Humor.

______________________________________________________________

The rain fell in sheets outside the dirt encrusted window, the plastic panes rattling with the wind. It was a summer, it was a Saturday, and Miguel and Robby were sitting alone in the apartment watching The Office. Carmen and Johnny had left for a long weekend at the beach (just out of reach of the storm), and the two boys were climbing the walls with nobody but each other for company. Sam was doing a European tour with Daniel (her last trip with him before college), Tory was working, and Hawk and Demetri were away at Comic Con. About two hours into the torrential downpour, a bolt of lightning struck outside.

“Wow, that felt close,” Robby shivered, the temperature in the apartment having dropped significantly.

“Yeah, it…ah, man, come on,” Miguel groaned when the lights flickered before going out completely.

“I’ll get the candles,” Robby sighed.

“Ok, sounds good. Wait, why do you have candles?” Miguel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“This happened all the time at my mom’s place. They’re cheaper than battery powered lanterns and they were all I could afford while still paying the rent,” The older boy murmured, avoiding the dark haired boy’s gaze as he lit the wicks.

Miguel watched as the small flames cast a warm glow over the beige walls, illuminating Johnny’s new lighthouse painting and the newer pictures of their blended family. There was also a new smell in the air, something soothing and sweet.

“What is that smell?” He asked, moving closer to the candles.

Robby blushed. “It’s…vanilla. I got scented candles because, well, I thought they were kinda nice. Plus they covered the smell of the weed. Back when I smoked it.”

Miguel chuckled. Typical Robby. Can’t be sweet without an edge. This is nice. Almost…romantic. Wait, what?

“Miguel? Did you hear me?” The other teen waved his hand in front of his friend’s face.

“Huh?”

“I said, do you want to play a game? “ Robby repeated.

“Sure, what kind of game?” Miguel asked, standing to move the candles to the table.

Robby smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about, ‘Truth or Dare?’”

Miguel swallowed. He knows…crap, he knows…what am I gonna do? What am I gonna tell Sensei?

Robby bent over to relight a candle. “This one just doesn’t want to stay lit.”

Oh no…no, no, he’s bending over. Don’t look at his butt…don’t look…oh crap I’m looking.

“Um, yeah..yeah, sure. Can I ask you first?” Miguel managed. “Truth or dare?”

Robby paused, considering. “Dare.”

“I dare you to…eat that banana in under a minute,” Miguel blurted out.

Robby stared. Crap. Why did he pick a banana? Of all fruits, that has to be the most suggestive thing you could possibly…

Miguel realized what he had asked the moment the words were out of his mouth. Oh, dang. Why DID I pick a banana?

“Oh, right? Yeah, I can do that. Totally, no problem…” Robby picked up the banana. “Time me.”

Miguel started the stopwatch, staring as the shorter boy deep-throated half the fruit in under a minute, finishing the entire banana in a mere 5 bites. That is anatomically impossible…I think he just unhinged his jaw. The boy is a literal cobra…

Robby tossed the peel in the trash. Great. Now I’m hard. Come on, Robby, think of something not sexy. Miguel’s YaYa in a bikini. Yikes, that did it.

“Alright, my turn. Truth or Dare, Mr. Fruit of the Loom?” Robby narrowed his eyes at his friend.

Miguel gulped. “Truth?”

“Who was your first crush?”

The taller boy nearly spat his soda. “Um…Uh, I changed my mind. Dare, dare! Make me do something crazy, just don’t ask me…”

“Too late. You already picked. You have to answer, rules are rules,” Robby smiled, a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Okay, okay…just promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“That’s in the rules too. Nobody else gets to know what we tell each other here. Strict secrecy, I promise," Robby extended his hand in solidarity.

"It was in kindergarten. This other b– I mean, this other kid. He–I mean, er, she was blonde with green eyes and sat in front of me. We played soccer together a lot at recess?" Miguel spluttered.

Robby stared. His first crush was a boy?! Okay, okay, that doesn’t mean anything, but that means there’s a chance?

"Your first crush was a boy?" The older teen asked.

"What? No, I just misspoke," Miguel lied.

Robby folded his arms.

"Okay, fine, yeah you got me. I'm bi," Miguel whispered. "Go ahead and make fun of me, that's what everyone does."

"No, of course I'm not gonna make fun of you," Robby placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'd be a hypocrite if I did."

"Truth or dare?" Miguel asked, eager to change the subject.

"Truth."

"What did you mean by 'I'd be a hypocrite' if you made fun of me?" Miguel asked, whispering.

"I'm actually...Miguel I'm gay," Robby murmured.

"Wow."

"Yeah, wow..."

There was silence. The two boys staring at each other.

Robby's brain continued to ramble, and Miguel's was much the same. Oh no, prolonged eye contact…is that a longing stare? Maybe it’s a longing stare, nope. Nope. That’s an awkward stare. It’s been too long, nobody’s talking. Yep, now it’s awkward.

"Right, ok. Truth or dare?" Robby coughed, extinguishing the candle. Crap.

"Dare," Miguel chose.

"I dare you to put on Sam's Barbie shirt, and run around outside screaming, 'I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.' for two minutes. No umbrella," Robby rubbed his hands together conspiratorially. "Oh, and, I'm gonna film it."

"Okay. Wait, what? Come on, I thought we just had a moment there," Miguel whined.

"Nope, moment over," Robby laughed.

The video was shaky, but the sound quality was perfect. Miguel played up the melodrama, shaking his fists at the sky. When it was over, Miguel walked back inside, the T shirt now soaked with rainwater.

Robby groaned inwardly. Oh no. The shirt is transparent now? And…he’s taking it off.

"No, no, don't take it off!" Robby blurted.

"What? I'm cold," Miguel pouted.

"That's what I'm saying, you'll get pneumonia. Go in our room and dry off first, then change," the older boy managed weakly.

A couple minutes later, and the two of them were back on the couch.

"Truth or dare?" Miguel asked.

"Truth," Robby replied.

"Are you in love with anyone right now?" Miguel asked.

"Yes. Yes I am," Robby nodded. "But, I don't think he'll ever like me back, so. I guess I'll have to forget about it."

Miguel sighed. His heart is already taken.

"Truth or dare, Miguel?"

"Dare."

"Okay...I dare you to kiss me," Robby whispered. "For ten whole seconds."

Miguel leaned in, slowly planting his lips on Robby's. The kiss was lingering, but chaste. The taste was cherry cola, and salt from the pretzels, and something else that was so distinctly, him.

"Truth or dare, Robby?"

"Truth. Before you ask, yes, I'm in love with you," Robby whispered. "And I dare you to be my boyfriend."

Miguel's eyes widened. "I...I would love that. And I dare you to kiss me again..."

#kiaz #miguel/robby #robby x miguel #robby keene #miguel diaz #gay mlm #crack fic #comedy #getting together

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abitohoney · 1 year

Text

Hustle - CH3: Preparations

AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Ran & Reader, Established Relationship, assassin reader, Fluff, Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, horny idiots in love, Dom/sub, Dom Sevika, sub Reader, Humor, Banter, Choking, Spanking, Teasing, Light Sadism, Begging, Strap-Ons, Lesbian Sex, Aftercare, Gambling, Smoking, lack of understanding card games, totally winging this shit, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Semi-Public Sex, Rough Sex, Hair-pulling, reader is not the most graceful creature, but Sevika adores reader all the more for it, Jealousy, Marking, Orgasm Delay, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Hurt/Comfort, a Yordle OC that we will likely never see again but I had entirely too much fun writing, 69 (Sex Position)

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: Looking to make your nights with Sevika a bit more… exciting, you suggest making use of your shared talent for playing cards. Together, the two of you take the Undercity, and even Topside, by storm. And what’s more exciting than the thrill of winning, or watching your opponents whine and gripe in defeat, or earning far more coin than the two of you could possibly spend? The release of pent-up sexual desire that seems to come with each and every win, that’s what.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3.

It was barely morning when you trudged towards the kitchen behind the bar of the Last Drop. Though it was far earlier than your usual time to rise, you slowly pushed open the door to reveal your long-running table mate.

Ran.

They sat at the small table in the center of the room, their chair facing the door. Their usual bowl of bland– you honestly still weren’t what exactly it was– Cereal without milk? Whatever it was it looked tasteless, but Ran seemed content with it, so who were you to say anything?

Ran lifted their head and nodded towards you in a silent greeting.

You nodded back, a bit too tired yet to say anything yourself. Dragging yourself to the refrigerator, you rummaged through the rather sad selection until you came across something that looked mostly palatable.

After grabbing a glass of an equally palatable drink, you made your way to the seat across from Ran. “So, do you have a plan to get us into the tournament topside?”

Last you two had spoken, Ran had told you they’d handle the logistics of getting you and Sevika in, but you weren’t entirely sure what that would involve. Not just anyone was allowed in.

Stirring the food in their bowl, Ran gave a small nod. “Fake identities already entered in the match. Meet at the Promenade tonight for new clothes.”

Well, that was a mouthful for Ran.

Eyes wide in excitement, you replied, “This is going to be wild.” You took a large bite of your breakfast, mind roaming over the possibilities this tournament could open. You might actually be able to pull this off with Sevika. Get yourselves enough coin to buy her an improved arm. Your thoughts came to a halt as Ran’s nonchalant words reached your ears.

“Can’t fuck on those tables though.”

You nearly spat your mouthful of food, choking and sputtering while heat spread up your neck and through your cheeks like wildfire.

Clearing your throat and taking a long sip of your drink, you hesitantly met Ran’s eyes- or rather eye- their fringed black hair obscuring the other.

Their dark lips curled into the tiniest smirk, amused by your antics as always. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Ran and Sevika both colluded in how to make you blush profusely. That or they had a bet to see who could do it the best.

“I- I know that,” you stammered. “How did- how did you know we-?” You couldn’t quite say it, but judging by how Ran’s dark brow raised, they weren’t going to let you off that easily.

Great.

“How did you know we fucked on the table?” you forced out, cheeks somehow burning even hotter.

The corner of their mouth tugged higher. “Didn’t. Just assumed.”

Of course.

“You know we do things other than just fuck,” you pointed out before taking another sip of your drink.

Their brow raised higher.

“Sometimes we just sit together and drink, work on our weapons, play cards, banter…” You trailed off, not willing to admit how all of that almost always inevitably led to fucking. “We also cuddle,” you blurted out.

Oh boy did that send their brow soaring high. You could have sworn you even heard Ran release a little snort of a laugh.

“What?!” you asked incredulously. “Just cause we fuck nasty doesn’t mean we don’t take care of each other afterward! Besides, aren’t you the one who slipped the aftercare book into Sevika’s room way back when?”

Busying themselves with a bite of their… ‘breakfast’, Ran said nothing, but you could only imagine the things running through their head. Nothing good, no doubt.

Sevika would NOT be happy if she ever found out what you’d said.

Your mind wandered to some of her recent punishments. Her pinning your hands behind your back while she smacked your bottom side repeatedly, following each one with the sweetest, most tender, soothing touch that made the space between your legs heat and grow wet.

“She takes good care of me after every wonderful, wild…” you trailed off, searching for a proper description in the memory banks.

“Mind-blowing?” Ran quipped.

You sighed. “Yes. Mind-blowing. After every mind-blowing romp, she is so incredibly caring and tender, even when we continue the banter. She cleans me up, kisses me softly, holds me close, caresses me…” You trailed off, your mind wandering again and allowing you to say far too much.

Sevika would definitely make you pay if she ever found out you’d blurted all that out.

“Do NOT tell her I told you that,” you demanded, leaning across the table with narrowed eyes honed in on Ran’s less than innocent smirking face.

Although Ran lifted both metal and flesh hands in defense, you doubted you could fully trust them to keep their mouth shut. For as little as they spoke, they loved to take every opportunity they could to tease and torment you. And you’d just laid a rather lovely opportunity on a silver platter just for them.

You sat back in your chair with a huff. You needed to change the subject before you said more shit you’d regret.

“Have you seen Sevika this morning? She was gone before I got up.”

“Basement. Working out,” Ran replied, a knowing smirk on their face.

Damnit.

Your nerves were alight as you descended the dark stairs that led to the basement of the Last Drop. Per Ran’s claim Sevika was down there, working out, and likely dressed in her typical training clothing. That was exactly why you dreaded walking through that door.

Sure enough, as you pushed open the heavy door, you found Sevika in just what you expected. Her top half was dressed in a white wrap that technically only covered her chest- just barely at that- leaving that impossibly fit tummy and abs of hers exposed even more than usual. Her bottom half donned only a pair of tight black shorts that accentuated the tops of her muscular thighs and ass. And good god the amount of beautiful, rich brown skin glistening with sweat after spending Janna knows how much time punching the bag hanging from the ceiling beam.

She had her fists drawn up, the side with her human arm facing you, and that bulging bicep right in your line of sight.

Fuck.

You’d come down there to tell her of the upcoming plans to prepare for taking on the fools topside, but clearly this was going to head in an entirely different direction. Unless you could somehow distract yourself.

Then Sevika turned to find you standing just past the threshold, blatantly staring at her. And sure as shit, those lips of hers curled into an annoyingly cocky, sexy smirk.

Damn her.

“Come down for a sparring session?” she taunted while grabbing a towel to wipe her face off.

“No. I-”

“Afraid to get your ass handed to you?” she interrupted. She tossed the towel over her shoulder and turned to face you, mischievous eyes following your movement as you headed for the mat in the middle of the room.

Don’t take the bait.

“No. I came here to work out and talk to you,” you said, taking a seat on the mat and pulling your knees up. Before she could make another attempt to goad you, you added, “Mind holding my feet for me?”

Lying on your back, you crossed your arms across your chest. You were about to start doing sit-ups, presumably without assistance despite your request, when you caught a pair of large boots entering your periphery.

Sevika stopped beside your head, towering over you while you lay flat and peered up at her in anticipation of some biting remark.

“Well?” she asked impatiently, watching you from down her pronounced nose.

“Well what?” You furrowed your brows, legitimately not sure what she was getting at.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Oh.

“I realize this is asking a lot of you,” you started sarcastically, “but could you hold my feet for me while we talk?”

“Can’t even do sit-ups by yourself?” she snorted, “Pathetic.”

Don’t take the bait.

You were going to have to repeat that mantra several times to make it through the conversation. She was definitely trying to get you riled up. But you needed to focus. You had important matters to discuss. Banter and the subsequent mind-blowing sex that would surely follow would have to wait.

So you gave her your best puppy-dog eyes and pleaded, “Please Sevika, just while we talk.”

She huffed a derisive laugh, but moved to kneel at your feet. Of course she wouldn’t let you get off that easily though. The moment she placed her hands on your feet, she pressed down much harder than necessary.

“Thank. You,” you ground out through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the urge to scold her for practically smashing your poor feet.

You sat up, taking the exercise slow at first so you could speak. Your view switched from the dimly lit bulb hanging from the ceiling to the stoic face of Sevika, then back again.

“So, I was talking to Ran about what we could do now that we’ve cleaned out most of the Undercity.”

As you sat back up, Sevika’s expression had changed- a single brow quirked in intrigue.

“I actually know of a fancy place topside that holds a big tournament every month. My father used to play there when I was little.”

That time, when you sat up, her lips had tugged upward at one corner.

Here we go.

“Have you ever not been little?” she sneered.

Don’t take the bait.

Ignoring the insult, you continued, “And this tournament has more than just the fancy pants of Piltover playing. It draws in wealthy tourists from all over Runeterra. Just a treasure trove of filthy rich idiots with nothing better to do than gamble their money away.”

Her brow raised even higher, clearly very interested in where this was going.

“Ran already got us some fake identities and entered us in the tournament. Wants us both to meet up with them tonight to get some clothes from a shop on the Promenade level to help fit in I guess.”

You sat back up to find a nasty grimace on Sevika’s face. You paused for a second. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not wearing a fucking dress,” she growled, baring her teeth.

Oh.

You made absolutely no attempt to hold back your roaring laughter.

“What’s so fucking funny, princess?”

Lying back down against the mat, you took a moment to catch your breath. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Ran will get you a suit instead,” you assured her as you sat back up.

She eyed you suspiciously, but you brushed it off.

“Besides, would it really be that bad? To wear a dress?” you asked, closing your eyes as you tried to picture what that might look like. In all honesty, you thought she’d be beautiful in literally anything. She had the handsome sharp edges that make a suit look good, but also the lovely curves that a dress could accentuate beautifully.

“So you’re going to wear a dress?” she sneered.

You stopped mid sit up.

Fuck.

You had not even considered that to be a possibility. And you didn’t need to open your eyes to see the smirk on her face.

“Ran could get you a pretty little pink one just like the one you wore in the picture when you were little,” she taunted.

That picture. That fucking picture. The bane of your existence and yet it was Sevika’s most prized possession. The picture of you, as a child, wearing a pink, frilly, princess dress for Halloween when you had wanted the black assassin costume instead. The picture Ran had stolen from your place to tease you with. That then Sevika stole to tease you with. That now sat on the bedside table on Sevika’s side of the bed. That you suspected she liked for more than just taunting you with.

“What’s the matter, baby? Don’t you wanna relive your Piltie Princess dreams?” she jeered.

Eyes open, you sat fully upright and glared at her.

Don’t. Take. The. Bait.

You smiled at her– a shit-eating sort of grin. “Maybe we can get you your own pink dress.” You looked up towards the ceiling as if envisioning something. “I can just picture it now. Pretty, pink, Piltie Sevy.”

Shit.

You took the bait.

Smile wiped clean from your face, your eyes dropped to meet Sevika’s. You knew your worry was ever present on your face. You expected her to eat that up, but to your surprise, she let out a hearty chuckle.

Wait. What’s happening?

“Real cute, baby,” she chuckled.

Then, without warning, her expression took an extreme turn– from what you thought was genuine good-natured amusement to full-on evil sneer. “I’m going to make you eat those words.”

And here we go.

But oh! You had an idea. A distraction. With a coy smile, you replied, “I’d rather eat you.”

Now that worked wonders. Her brow raised, smirk faltering for just a moment.

Still grinning, you leaned forward between your knees and gave her nose a quick kiss before lying back down. And when you sat back up, she still wore the same expression. So, you gave her a quick peck on the lips before doing another rep.

You repeated those motions several times. Placing a chaste kiss to a different part of her face each time. And each time you came back up, you found her looking more and more annoyed. At least until your smile started to grow dopier and dopier. Until finally, her lips twitched at the corner, and you knew you’d won.

Or at least you thought you had.

The next time you leaned in, she met you halfway. The startled gasp that left your throat was muffled by the soft press of her lips. Lips that you could feel curl into a smug smile against your own.

Without breaking the kiss, she started to slowly lean over you, forcing you to lean back. All the heat in your body seemed to flood between your thighs as she crawled over you and forced you to spread your legs wider to allow her hips between them. Your upper body dropped lower and lower until your head hit the mat.

Her large, solid body pressed on top of yours, pinning you beneath her and sending your mind reeling. Her tongue teased along the crease of your lips and you immediately parted them, granting her access. She chose to tease instead, gently sucking on your bottom lip while she slipped her human hand beneath your shirt to run across your abs.

You wrapped your arms around her neck in an attempt to pull her mouth closer. The only thing you got in return was teeth nipping at your lip before she pulled her mouth away from yours. Your startled protest died in your throat the moment you felt her fingers dip lower to tease along your waistband.

Breath already coming out hot and heavy, your impatience got the better of you. Though she made it clear you were to let her decide where this was going, you attempted to chase those luscious lips, only to be denied once again.

“Hands above your head,” she growled.

Despite your whimper, you obeyed, raising your arms to rest along the mat. Cool metal pressed firmly against your wrists, rendering your upper half immobile.

“Sev-” you whined when the hand at your waist left to slip beneath your shirt.

Ignoring your pleading eyes, she roughly pulled your top and sports bra up over your chest, the band pressing uncomfortably into the tops of your breasts.

“Sevika, that- that’s kinda uncomf-”

Your retort was cut short by Sevika’s threatening gaze on you. Her metal hand moved to the base of your throat, fingers wrapping around and applying just enough pressure to hush you.

“Be a good girl for me and I’ll make it worth it.”

There was no arguing with that. Not when those dangerous fingers held your neck so possessively. Not when you could see the lust in her eyes and hear it in her husky voice. And you trusted her. With everything. Mind, heart, and body. So you gave her a small nod and watched her lips curl into a tiny smirk before she brought them to your exposed chest.

With her large fingers firmly gripping one breast, Sevika wrapped her lips around the supple flesh and sucked, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips.

Instinctively, your hips bucked towards her.

“So needy,” she rasped, her breath cool as it drifted over your wet skin.

You shivered beneath her, a chill running down your spine.

“You’re not cold are you, baby?” she husked against your other breast before sucking another mark to match the first.

You were anything but cold pinned beneath her warm, sweaty body, subjected to her heated touch. Every fiber in your body felt as if it could combust at any moment. You were already starting to break a sweat, but it had nothing to do with your workout.

“No- I-” your words halted, brain emptying the moment you peered down past her augmented arm to meet her fiery gaze.

And then you realized your mistake. Far too late. At some point, your hands had wandered from their designated place above your head and found purchase in her silky dark hair.

Stormy gray eyes trained on you, there was no way to break away as you watched her slowly trail the tip of her tongue just outside your hardening peak. She paused for an agonizing moment, her parted lips a mere hairsbreadth away from the sensitive nub.

Unsure of her intentions, you held your breath in anticipation.

Without warning, she bit down. Hard.

A short, sharp intake of breath further filled your lungs, pushing your chest towards those deliciously cruel teeth of hers. And then all that breath left your body in a shuddering moan as she soothed the sore flesh with soft lips and a wet tongue.

You moved your hands to the mat at your sides, nails digging into the forgiving material while her human hand started to descend down your stomach again.

Thankfully, this time she skipped the teasing and immediately slipped her fingers beneath the waistbands of your pants and underwear. The tip of her middle finger slid ever so slowly through your wet slit and your eyes fluttered shut, a soft moan escaping your parted lips.

"Always so wet for me," she hummed in appreciation, dragging that finger through once more before circling your clit.

Pleasure radiated from that tiny bundle of nerves. Yet every muscle in your body ached for more. You released a shaky breath, her name a pleading whisper.

"Do you ever get this wet without me?" She asked curiously as she spread more of your arousal around your entrance.

Even with your eyes shut, you could feel the heat of her gaze on your face, watching how it contorted with every little touch. Enjoying every little hitch of breath, lick of lips, and pinch of brows.

"On- Only when I- when I think about- you," you stammered, each word more difficult than the last as she started to slowly sink her finger inside you.

“Yea?” she purred, running the side of her nose along yours while curling her finger and dragging it slowly back out.

You nodded, careful not to move too much. Warm breath fanned across your dry lips. Your tongue instinctively slipped out to wet them, barely ghosting over her own. Anticipating a reprimand for touching without permission, you swallowed hard, throat bobbing against the firm press of her metal hand.

“How often do you think about me?” She pulled her finger completely out, only to hush your whine of protest by slipping two fingers inside.

All the fucking time.

“I-” whatever words you had ready faded away as she started pumping those thick digits in and out at a torturously slow pace. But you knew she’d stop if you didn’t answer. So you said the only thing you could come up with. The truth.

“All the time,” you mewled.

She chuckled softly, her lips still hovering tauntingly close to yours. “Down so bad, huh?”

She had no idea.

“Do you touch yourself when you do?”

You nodded, a breathy, “Yes,” escaping as she pushed in deeper, knuckles bottoming out.

“Like this?” she breathed and curled her fingers.

You swallowed hard again, struggling to remain composed as she worked you up. Metal fingers tightened at the base of your throat, a silent warning to give her an answer. “Yes,” you managed to whimper.

“Hmm,” she hummed, brushing her lips along yours.

Your nails dug deeper into the mat.

“How many?”

What?

Each metal digit pressed tighter into your skin, one after the next as she ground out the words, “How. Many. Fingers?”

“Three.”

“Greedy little cunt,” she chuckled darkly, but when she drew her fingers back, she slipped another in. “Like this?”

“Oh fuck,” you groaned, pleasure causing your vision to blur for a moment. “No. Yours- yours are so much bigger,” you whined as she slowly sank deeper, stretching you close to your limit.

“But you can take it, can’t you?”

You’d done it before, yet every single time feels as if you’re walking that fine line between pleasure and pain. But that’s exactly how you both like it. So, through the haze of your pleasure, you gave her a strained, “Yes,” just as she bottomed out those three thick digits.

“That’s my girl,” she husked. She finally pressed her lips to yours, swallowing your subsequent moan.

Your hands almost flew up instinctually to pull her closer, but you caught yourself just in time, allowing them to collapse back against the mat.

Her kiss likened the passion of her fucking. Tongue and fingers delved with the same rhythm and intensity– straight and fast in, curled and slow out. You tried at first to match her motions, bucking your hips towards her hand and swiping your tongue along hers each time she entered.

It didn’t take long though for her pace to increase to the point you found yourself too overcome with pleasure to keep up.

When she abruptly broke the kiss, strands of saliva clung between your open mouths before breaking and falling against your chin.

Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, head spinning and reeling from the lack of oxygen and the rush of pleasure. With your body burning so hot, you barely felt the sweat that had gathered along your hairline drip down along the side of your face. Every inch of your lower half ached, the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter. Any attempt to bite back the moans quickly began to fade.

She worked you quicker- harder- the palm of her hand pressing and dragging along your swollen clit with each thrust. Her face hovered just over yours, stormy gray eyes reveling in how your face contorted in bliss.

You let yourself go completely, all restraint gone as you let your body take over. Nothing but a flurry of moans, gasps, mewls, and her name spilling past your open mouth.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear all those pretty sounds you make,” she huffed before pressing her face into the crook of your neck to kiss, bite, and suck it.

Just a few more blissful strokes of those fingers, palm dragging over your clit, and you felt time suddenly slow. Pleasure rushed over your body in waves. A series of curse words pouring from your slack mouth.

But even as you felt the waves settle into a pleasant dull ache Sevika didn’t stop. She only sped up, the overstimulation abruptly ripping you from your high.

“Sev, wait,” you pleaded, so short of breath you could hardly speak the words.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another one,” she panted against your neck.

You were about to tell her it was too much when you realized her body was rocking against yours. Rolling your head to the side you peered down to find her grinding against the palm of her metal hand. You hadn’t even realized she’d moved it from your neck.

Oh fuck that’s hot.

But you wanted to help her. You wanted to get her off. She’d already done you so well, how could you not want to return the favor?

“Sevika, please,” you begged, “I want to touch you. Please let me help you.”

She ignored your plea, only sped up the pace of her thrusting, both hips and fingers.

"I just- I just want to make you feel good. Please," you nearly cried out, attempting to squirm away from her relentless fingers. You could see her body tremble, struggling to maintain all the motions as her body became overwhelmed with pleasure. The fingers inside you slowed, but she continued to grind against her hand.

Sev, please,” you whispered one last time. When she didn’t reply, you decided to chance it. Slowly- deliberately- you drug your blunt nails down the length of her abs, relishing in how her muscles quaked and a deep, satisfied groan pulled from her chest. Her breath was hot and uneven against your neck where her kisses dwindled to just a press of wet lips.

Excitement and the haze of your orgasm still clouding your mind, you fumbled in your attempt to slip your fingers beneath her tight training shorts. And she was no help, her thrusts getting wilder, more erratic. She was close. But you had to be the one to finish her off. You all but ripped the waist of her shorts with how hard you pulled it back to allow your other hand inside.

“Let me,” you huffed, pushing her metal hand aside before immediately slipping your fingers beneath her underwear.

“Fuck,” you moaned as your fingers slipped through the thick patch of hair and between her wet folds. “You’re so wet.”

She sank her teeth into the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder, hard enough it would surely leave yet another mark.

You released a soft whimper and wasted no time toying with her as she did with you. You immediately slipped two fingers knuckle deep in her warm, wet cunt. The feeling of her clenching around your fingers- her own faltering their assault on you- nearly sent you over the edge again right then and there. And then came the long, deep groan from her parted lips.

Gods was it heavenly to make her feel so good.

She moved her metal hand to grip your hip, sharp talons sinking deep enough to puncture skin. Warm droplets of blood dripped down your side, but it only drove you closer to your peak.

With each thrust of your fingers, she bucked her hips, but they quickly became more erratic as you worked her up.

Each grunt, puff of hot air, and curse that fell from Sevika’s mouth made your body tense further and further. You were already so close again, but you wanted her to finish first. You wanted to be as aware as possible to watch- to feel - her fall apart from your touch.

Her hips faltered, no longer meeting your pace.

“I- fuck,” she huffed. “Baby I’m gonna…” her groan turned into a sharp intake of breath.

Fuck.

She clenched around your fingers and her body froze, tensing entirely. Then all at once, she released her breath and all that tension rushed from her body as her muscles spasmed.

The feeling of her walls pressing against your fingers and the warm wetness that spilled onto your hand was enough to bring you to your second release. Your body trembled and quaked beneath hers even as she collapsed onto you, completely spent.

Somehow, the both of you managed to ride through your highs despite neither of you being able to move your hands. You didn’t care how fucking heavy her body was on yours as the two of you attempted to catch your breath. Nor did you care that your arm was sandwiched between your bodies. Nor how the smell of sweat and sex permeated the already damp air of the basement. You were feeling too good, and you knew Sevika was too.

After your breaths returned to a steady rate, Sevika propped herself up on her augmented arm. She peered down at you with hazy gray eyes, lips curling into a small smirk when she caught your fucked-out smile.

Strands of hair that had fallen from her half ponytail clung to her sweaty face. And good god even her cheeks looked flushed.

Beautiful.

You reached your free hand up to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Feeling good?” you asked softly.

She merely smirked at you, which you took as a yes but not willing to give you the ego stroke. You, however, had no problem stroking hers.

“I’m feeling great,” you sighed. “Although my hand is kinda cramping,” you laughed softly and wiggled your fingers inside her.

“Fuck,” she cursed, eyes screwing shut tight.

“Sorry,” you lied with a failed attempt to disguise your laugh. Serves her right. She was always the one to overstimulate you.

Her eyes narrowed at you, but you knew she wasn’t mad.

“Pull out on three?” you asked.

You took her lack of reply as a yes.

“One.”

God, you hated this part.

“Two.”

Always so stimulating yet disappointing at the loss.

“Thr–aahh!!”

Sevika pulled her fingers out before you could finish, pulling with them a startled cry from you.

“Fuckng hell Sevika!” you snapped.

Then she was the one to chuckle, body shaking against yours.

So you pulled your fingers out without warning, being sure to drag them over her clit as you did.

She hissed, face contorting again at the overstimulation.

“So sorry-” you barely managed to finish your tauntingly fake apology when she stuffed her fingers into your mouth. You moaned, obligingly lapping your own wetness from her fingers.

Her smirk returned as she pulled her fingers back out and watched you slip your own in to lick off her wetness as well.

“If I wasn’t so fucking spent I’d give you more than just a taste,” she said huskily.

You shuddered beneath her, arousal blooming at the thought of that. “Maybe tonight?” you suggested.

“If you’re a good girl,” she replied before bringing her lips to yours.

As you returned the kiss, you were pretty sure she’d give you more than a taste even if you were bad.

That night, you nervously followed Ran- with Sevika not too far behind you- to the rickety elevator that would take the three of you to the Promenade level. Admittedly, you had no idea what Ran would pick out for either of you, but knowing their history of other things they’d selected for you in the past, it was not going to at all be something within your typical style. And very revealing. At least for you. The only positive to those thoughts was that they may do the same for Sevika. And good god would you love to see Sevika in something even more delicious to the eyes than her current attire.

The ride up was quiet, save for the occasional rattling and clanging of the elevator. You shifted from foot to foot, eyes darting from the iron door to Ran’s chill and suspiciously smug expression, to Sevika’s scowl, and back to the door again. It dawned on you, just how odd you three must look, with your contrasting expressions and clothing style. Ran with their goth/emo, Sevika with her– you weren’t even sure what to call her style. Badass. Mean. Is mean a style? Teasing. That damn strip of tummy exposed just asking- no, begging- to be touched and tasted. Whatever her style was, it wasn’t like Ran’s, or yours. Yours was plain, dark, all black. Meant to blend in because, well, assassin. You weren’t looking to draw attention.

But something told you that would change with whatever Ran picked out for you tonight.

The lift came to a jolting stop, knocking you from your thoughts but ratcheting up your anxiety. And as the three of you approached the shop, that gut-wrenching feeling only continued to grow. The shop was larger than you expected. Almost the entirety of the front was nothing but windows displaying all manner of suits and dresses. Anything from tiny, skimpy, sorry excuses for clothing, to dresses with skirts so large you were certain sitting down would be an impossibility. And in just as wide an array of colors and fabrics. From dark black leather to frilly light pinks. The latter made you visibly cringe.

You were about to follow Ran through the large glass door when they stopped and turned to you.

“Her first,” they nodded to Sevika behind you.

“We can’t both go in?” you asked incredulously.

“Can’t see until the tournament.”

Was Ran fucking nuts? This was supposed to be for a card tournament, not a damn wedding.

That last thought caused a different disturbance in your stomach. One you’d rather not address.

“Okay,” you replied, less than thrilled with the idea of having to wait and stew even longer. With a dramatic sigh, you found a small spot without a window and leaned against it, watching as Sevika reluctantly followed Ran inside. At least you weren’t alone in this torture. Sevika looked far beyond displeased.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’re not sure how long you were standing there, attempting to preoccupy yourself with the dagger Sevika had gifted you some months ago. You were running your thumb absentmindedly over the initials carved into it- your initials- when you heard the door open. Sevika stepped out carrying a large bag and appearing even more annoyed than when she had entered.

Great.

And then she just strode past you without so much as a glance.

“Aren’t you going to wait for me?” you asked.

“No. I have more important things to do,” she replied and kept walking, at least until Ran opened their big mouth.

“Prepare for mind-blowing sex and cuddling?”

For as little as Ran spoke, they sure seemed to pick the most awkward things to say and at the worst times. Not only that, they said the most blasphemous things with the cool, calm composure of someone speaking of the weather.

Wide-eyed, you watched Sevika stop dead in her tracks and slowly turn to Ran’s smirking face. Then, as her gaze drifted to your suspiciously nervous expression, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Shit.

You gave her an awkward, apologetic smile and shrugged your shoulders. Judging by the way she was clearly clenching her teeth behind her closed mouth, it was not very well received.

You were going to pay dearly for your slip.

With one more threatening glance between you and Ran, Sevika silently turned and stomped off towards the lift.

Then it was your turn to get mad. You spun on your heels, brows downturned as you all but threw the dagger in your clenched fist at Ran.

Ran simply grinned, waving their metal fingers at you teasingly. “Your turn, princess.”

You decided to just ignore the pet name, despite that only further fueling your suspicions that Ran and Sevika were colluding in your destruction. And by destruction, you meant getting you as flustered as possible.

Pushing off the wall you followed Ran into the store.

It was, as you expected, beyond anything you’d been exposed to in your time in the Undercity. In your younger years in Piltover, you had been dragged along by your mother to several stores similar to this, and unfortunately, it was something you would have rather left in the past.

Dresses of all manner lined the walls and center of the store. Gaudy colors and flashy sequins damn near blinded you, even though the lighting was only slightly better than in the depths of the Undercity. And each rack and mannequin you passed made your insides drop lower and lower in your stomach.

Good god please at least pick something black.

Ran stopped at a rack holding several variations of dresses, each and every one in various shades of pink. You were about to protest, mouth open and brows furrowed, when you spotted the curl of dark lips painting Ran’s face.

They were fucking with you.

Your mouth snapped shut and you blew a huff of breath from your nose.

Ass.

Ran continued on, slowly perusing every rack, trailing their flesh fingers along the various materials. Occasionally, they’d stop at a rack with something they knew damn well you’d hate, but it didn’t take long for you to become numb to their game and brush it off.

Then, thank the gods, they stopped at a display full of black dresses. While they thumbed through several, you moved to the opposite side, deciding to join in the search now that you were at least in your color choice. Most of them were not to your taste. Too flashy, revealing, or frilly. But when you came across one made of a simple material, similar to your typical attire and with decent coverage, you finally felt your hopes rise.

“What about this one?” you asked, holding the dress up for Ran to see.

Their gaze drifted between your hopeful smile and the plain dress in your hand.

Ran slowly shook their head.

Damnit.

“Why not?” you whined. “It’s a decent dress!”

“Not for this place,” Ran murmured and returned to their search.

As much as you hated to admit it, you knew they were right. You remember how your mother and father dressed when attending these types of events. They were anything but plain. So you shoved the dress back on the rack and decided to go check out other parts of the store to keep your mind off the inevitable destruction of your comfort.

While browsing the less flashy suits, your mind began to wander.

What would Sevika be wearing?

You know for a fact she’d never agree to a dress. It would have to be a suit. But what kind? What color? Would she wear a tie? A jacket? Anything revealing? As you ran your hands along the silky fabric of a white button-up blouse, your eyes drifted close. You could picture her in it, beautiful rich brown skin contrasting against the crisp white. Maybe a few buttons undone, leaving you with a tease of her cleavage. Sleeves rolled up to reveal her bicep. Probably not the latter. She’d likely be hiding that prosthetic. What about her hair? Would it be worn down, those silky dark strands framing her beautiful face?

The sudden hair-raising feeling of being watched had your eyes flying open. You damn near jumped out of your skin when you found yourself face-to-face with Ran.

“Fuck Ran. Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you chided.

All you received in return was a teasing smirk. And then your eyes fell to the item in their hand.

There was no way it was a dress.

It looked like a pile of black silk, no straps.

Reluctantly, you took it from Ran and held it out in front of you. A few gold pieces with dark red gems stood out against the black material, which you assumed were what actually held the bits of material together.

You met Ran’s gaze again with a worried expression, eyes pleading with them that this was not truly what they’d selected. But a nod towards the dressing room confirmed what you dreaded.

With slumped shoulders, you headed to the dressing room, Ran following in tow and likely entirely too amused by your lack of enthusiasm.

Once inside a booth, you took your time stripping down before removing the ‘dress’ from its hanger and inspecting it for how to put it on.

There was no way you were figuring it out alone.

You glanced down at your body, clad only in a bra and panties.

Fucking hell.

“Ran,” you whispered, poking your head out from behind the curtain, “I have no fucking clue how to put this on!”

You hid further behind the curtain, nervously watching as Ran stepped inside with you wearing a knowing smirk. Heat rose up your neck and flooded your cheeks when their gaze raked over your near-nude body. Thank god they weren’t much for talking, as they said nothing, only let the corner of their mouth tug higher.

Ran helped you into the dress without any issue, to the point it made you wonder how many times they’d done something like this. But what plagued your mind more than that was how they let their fingertips, both flesh and metal, ghost along your exposed skin, leaving behind an obvious trail of goosebumps. The touches could have arguably been accidental considering how they needed to adjust, smooth, and clasp certain sections. However, the amused upward pull of lips you saw reflecting back at you in the mirror pointed to more than just pure accident.

When they patted your shoulder, indicating they were done, you finally let your attention move to your own reflection.

As it turned out, the gold pieces were actually the bones of the dress so to speak. One wrapped around the base of your neck like a choker, a dark red gem in the center where two pieces of black fabric attached on either side. The other ends of the fabric connected to the top of another gold piece, adorned with matching red gems and crisscrossed around the top of your waist and at the lowest part of your hips. It left the center of your chest very exposed, and cut real low around the back to reveal even more skin. More black fabric fell from the bottom half of that gold crisscross, cascading all the way to the floor. It had two slits- if you could even call them that considering how they were just entirely separate pieces, one for the front and one for the back- that left almost the entirety of your legs exposed. There was no way you were going to be able to pull off such a dress while wearing a bra OR panties.

Holy fucking shit.

You may have worn skimpier things for Sevika, but those were in the privacy of the bedroom. This was going to be in public, in front of gobs of strangers.

Your eyes drifted back up to Ran’s reflection. They looked more than happy with their selection. Oddly enough, that gave you quite the confidence boost, but…

What will Sevika think?

You slowly turned, glancing over your shoulder to admire your backside in the mirror. The back of the dress was longer than the front, trailing several inches along the floor behind you. The fabric had to be silk given how it cascaded so softly along your curves. It screamed luxury. Something you weren’t accustomed to. Silco paid you well, but not that well. And you grew up with fairly wealthy parents in Piltover, but thankfully were left out of a majority of those fancy events. This was so… different. You felt so…

Pretty.

A smile graced your face, startling you from your own reverie. You spun around completely to face Ran. “What is this going to set me back?”

“Still need to get you accessories and shoes, princess.”

Great.

After helping you out of the dress, Ran found matching gold and red gemmed bracelets and bands for your arm, just above your bicep, as well as a set of earrings.

Then came the shoes.

Ran almost immediately found a pair of matching stilettos, heels high enough that you were certain you’d be as tall as Sevika. You’d also likely suffer a concussion from such a high fall, which would assuredly happen if you tried to walk in them.

“What about these?” you asked, holding up a pair of tall, leather black boots with wide, flat heels. You should have known better to even ask, but you had to try something. When Ran shook their head, you attempted to plead with them, “Can’t we at least compromise? Find me something that doesn’t force me to walk on my damn tip-toes?”

They seemed to take pity on you, setting the stilettos back and returning to the selection. When they came back with a less hazardous-looking pair of black heels with matching gold and dark red accents, you released a heavy sigh.

“Fine.”

You were going to regret that.

The purchase of all the items ended up costing you a hefty amount of the Undercity tournament earnings you had split with Sevika. But if things went as planned Topside, it wouldn’t matter. You two would be swimming in money. Or at least have enough to do something really nice. And you wanted more than anything to get something special for Sevika.

As you and Ran exited, they pulled several items from their pocket and handed them to you. The first; a small piece of paper folded in half. You flipped it open to find Ran had written a name along the top that you did not recognize, as well as a list of facts. A summarized history of what you presumed to be your fake identity’s background. Folding it back up, you stuffed it into your bag to fully read later.

“Did Sevika get one too?”

Ran nodded and handed you the second item; a gold ring with what you assumed to be a signet for your fake identity.

Wow, Ran had really gone all out.

“My place. Saturday night,” Ran instructed.

You sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. This was really going to happen.

“Got it.”

CH4>>

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes #ran #arcane ran

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koffeesfancy · 3 months

Text

Rapture Ch. 1 | Koffee x Reader

Summary: After relocating to Spanish Town, you find yourself being ostracized in university as the frog-obsessed weird girl with no friends. Your educational experience is less than rewarding until you become entangled in the beguiling world of a girl from the basketball team, whose cruel and teasing nature captivates and confounds you. This unexpected connection draws you into a whirlwind of emotions and self-discovery, transforming your path in ways you never imagined.

Genre: Dark-ish romance, fluff, angst, college!au

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2907

A/N: Ah yes, another chapter fic. I worked very hard on this one, dedicating a lot of focus and skill into it. I plan on this story having more conflict, general moodiness, and sexual tension even so it has a different rating from my other stories which are intended to be more humorous and light reads. Also, this time I experimented with all dialogue (minus the reader's) being in Jamaican patois with some American spellings and vocab. Although my family and community are Caribbean, I am not, so what I've written may be rusty. Feel free to correct me. I tried to find a balance between authentic conversation and accessibility. I may come back and make changes as the story progresses. Feedback is appreciated always. Enjoy <3

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright

The science department at the University of Spanish Town was where the word “academia” went to die a slow, painful death. It was lovingly referred to as a social club among the other offices and anyone who knew it would laugh at its facade of molding young minds or pioneering research. The course load was light, deadlines were suggestions at best, and professors often skipped lectures altogether. Most students were either pre-med kids with rich parents or athletes looking for easy grades.

And then there was you, the starry-eyed idealist who thought the university’s environmental science degree would be your ticket to saving the rainforests. At seventeen, you had to move to your grandparents' house in a new city and chose the nearest, cheapest college with an e-sci program. If you’d had friends in your last year of school, they might have warned you about the university’s laid-back reputation. But your social awkwardness kept you in the dark, so here you were, blissfully ignorant and full of naivety.

Orientation felt like a bad sequel to secondary school. You hoped it would be your chance to finally break out of your shell, but nope. Everyone already had their cliques, and no one was interested in befriending the weird girl obsessed with frogs and trees. Professors (though friendly) lacked enthusiasm, lectures turned into casual chats, and your burning questions about conservation were met with bored shrugs. The syllabus promised exciting research and fieldwork, but instead, you were met with worksheets and outdated textbooks. Disillusionment set in fast as you realized you were being robbed of your dream.

“W-what’s the point of all this?” you once blurted out during another wasted lecture. Your voice was louder than you intended, cutting through the quiet chatter of the room. All eyes turned towards you, and you immediately felt the heat of a few dozen stares. Your cheeks burned as you realized what you had done. Professor Thomas looked up from his game of Candy Crush, raising an eyebrow with a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Di point?” he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Mi nuh know- fi mek sure yuh stay outta trouble fi three years?"

The class snickered in unison, the professor’s nonchalant tone adding to your discomfort. You fidgeted in your seat, wishing you could sink into the floor and disappear. The feeling of being exposed and out of place washed over you in waves.

"Trouble? I just want to save the planet," you said, your voice coming out more defensive than you had intended. You could feel the tension in the room change as your classmates looked on with curious amusement.

"Save di planet?" Professor Thomas chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Yuh fi start wid di school first. Yuh ever see di state a di atrium?"

The class erupted in laughter, and your heart sank. You couldn’t help but feel immense regret for your outburst. The momentary courage you had felt evaporated, leaving behind a deep sense of embarrassment. You stared down at your notebook, the lines blurring as tears of frustration welled up in your eyes.

Why did you have to say anything? You berated yourself silently. The professor’s mocking tone and your classmates' laughter played on repeat in your mind. You felt small, insignificant, and utterly alone in a room full of people. The dream of making a difference seemed so far away now, buried under the weight of ridicule and self-doubt.

As the laughter died down, the professor returned to his game, and the class resumed its usual dull rhythm. But for you, the sting of embarrassment lingered. You scribbled aimlessly in your notebook, trying to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of failure. At that moment, the idea of saving the planet seemed not only daunting but almost impossible. How could you make a difference in the world when you couldn’t even stand up for yourself in a classroom?

From then on, you spent your breaks, like today, alone in the atrium while other students hung out in the canteen or on the lawn. The atrium was a small, gloomy courtyard with a wild assortment of shrubs, flowers, and a few young trees. No one had thought to maintain it in years, so vines covered virtually every surface and few of the light fixtures worked. The little jungle had become a place of solace for you amidst the alienating environment of the rest of the school.

You sat on one of the vine-covered stone benches, knees drawn to your chest as you concentrated on sketching a scientific illustration of a Panamanian golden frog. The little frog waved her four toes, a common strategy to distract predators. You admired her bravery, wishing you had the same confidence to scare off your own bullies.

Even in college, you were still the target of ridicule. Classmates snickered at your cozy fashion choices, making snide comments about their grandmas owning similar shoes or skirts. Your books had been hidden more than once, and your ideas were almost always shot down as doing too much during group projects.

You became utterly lost in illustrating the world of the little frog, your pencil dancing across the page as you brought her delicate form to life. Each stroke was a whisper of your own soul, etched in graphite and paper. Maybe in some ways, she was like you- a tiny creature fighting against a world that didn't understand her. She and her family were critically endangered, their vibrant green world shrinking day by day due to loss of habitat. You, too, had lost your home, forced to move in with your grandparents in Spanish Town for your final year of secondary school.

By now, you had named the frog Bertha. The name felt right, a sturdy, old-fashioned one for such a resilient little being. Bertha had been uprooted from her home, just like you, and moved to a foreign terrarium in a desperate bid for preservation. You imagined she felt as lost and alone as you did, staring out at a world that seemed strange and unwelcoming.

As you added the final touches to the picture, the jarring creak of the heavy iron door and voices shattered the tranquility of your sanctuary. Your head jerked up, heart pounding painfully in your chest. Your eyes darted to the entrance, partially obscured by the overgrown foliage that draped like a tattered curtain. Two figures stumbled into view, their shadows stretching long and distorted across the stone path as the bright light from the hall spilled into the atrium, casting an eerie glow.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the shifting light, but soon you recognized the intruders. Mikayla, a sophomore on the basketball team, and Gabriella, a senior biology major, were locked in a heated argument. Their voices were low, yet their words carried a weight that hung heavy in the air, each one dripping with frustration and tension. Mikayla's lean, athletic frame was rigid with barely contained anger, while Gabriella's hands gestured wildly, her usually composed demeanor fraying at the edges.

"Wah deh wrong wid you?" Gabriella demanded, her voice a mix of anger and desperation. Her dark curls framed a face etched with worry, eyes wide and searching. Even across the path, you could see the lines of stress and fatigue on her face.

Mikayla shrugged, her posture nonchalant, almost dismissive. "Nothing de wrong wid me. Yu eva deh overreacting," she said, her tone dripping with disdain. She folded her arms across her chest, her stance defensive and closed off.

Gabriella's face contorted with hurt, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Overreacting? Mi overreacting? Mi cyaa manage dis—mi cyaa manage wid yuh! Mi ave grad school applications, exams—"

"Yeh, and mi ave basketball," Mikayla shot back, her tone turning sharp and icy. "Mi cyaa manage wid yuh drama all di time."

Gabriella took a step back, her expression crumbling. "Mi? Mikayla, yuh know seh dis important fi mi," she said, her voice breaking. The desperation in her tone was clear, each word laced with pain.

Mikayla's eyes flashed with irritation, her jaw clenched tight. "And mi tired a be somebody secret. Duh yu even know o dat feels? Fi act like everything good all di time wen mi a go crazy?" Her voice was rising, anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

Gabriella’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head, unable to form a response. She turned abruptly and hurried back into the building, her sobs echoing in the stillness left behind. The sound tugged at your heart, and you realized with a shock that you hadn’t known they were dating.

For a moment, Mikayla stood there, staring after Gabriella, her short frame silhouetted against the dusty windows. Shadows danced across her face, emphasizing the tension settling into her features. She clenched her fists at her sides, then, with a frustrated curse that echoed through the corridor, she kicked a rock lying on the stone tiles. The small stone skittered across the ground and rolled to a slow stop right by your foot, disrupting the fragile peace of your hidden sanctuary.

You held your breath, heart pounding in your chest, praying she wouldn’t notice you. But it was too late. Her sharp eyes, glinting with a mix of anger and surprise, locked onto yours. Time seemed to freeze, tension thick in the air. The silence was a heavy blanket, smothering and suffocating, as Mikayla's gaze bore into you.

She walked over, each step deliberate and measured, the sound of her sneakers echoing on the ground like a drumbeat in the quiet space. When she stopped in front of you, her gaze dropped to your sketchbook. For a long, excruciating moment, she just stood there, staring intently at the detailed drawing. Her expression softened, the harsh lines of anger and frustration melting away, replaced by something almost like curiosity, or perhaps some form of disbelief.

The silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable, as if the very air was holding its breath. You could feel the weight of her presence, the heat of her barely contained emotions radiating off her in waves. Finally, Mikayla straightened, her cat-like brown eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps, or maybe just a hint of understanding—in her gaze. It sent a wave of heat through your body that settled into the pit of your stomach.

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, the metal of her braces catching the dim light and glinting menacingly. It was a smile that held no warmth, only a cold amusement. She said nothing, her silence louder than any words could have been. Instead, she casually turned on her heel in a relaxed motion and left the atrium, her footsteps fading into the distance, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and your sketches.

As her footsteps faded, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The atrium seemed to return to its quiet self, but something had shifted. You glanced down at Bertha, her tiny feet perfectly drawn on the page. Maybe, like her, you could have found a way to stand up for yourself just now.

Why didn’t I say anything? Why did I just sit there like a scared rabbit? you thought, frustration bubbling up inside you. The encounter left you rattled, but also strangely intrigued. You also thought about what could have driven Mikayla to such cruelty and why had Gabriela been keeping their relationship a secret. Furthermore, you wondered why Mikayla looked at your sketchbook with such intensity.

The questions swirled in your mind, mingling with the lingering echoes of their argument. You gathered your belongings and stood, brushing off your corduroy skirt. I should have done something. Said something you berated yourself. The atrium felt different now, as if the air itself had absorbed the tension of the confrontation. You took one last look around before heading to your next class, your mind still buzzing with the unexpected drama you had witnessed. In a place where you often felt invisible, today you had been a silent observer to a moment of raw human emotion, and it pathetically left you feeling more disconnected and confused than ever.

It had been days since the encounter in the atrium. Today, the sky was blanketed by gray rain that drizzled steadily outside. You sat in the corner next to a window, your tray of lunch untouched beside you, engrossed in sketching a white-lipped tree frog. The rhythmic patter of rain against the glass provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts, lulling you into a comfortable daze.

The canteen buzzed with the low hum of conversations, but you were lost in your own world, the frog's delicate form taking shape under your pencil. You meticulously added the tiny ridges along its back, the subtle curve of its legs. The drawing was almost complete when your peace was abruptly shattered.

Three trays clattered down on the table, and you jerked your head up in surprise. Mikayla, along with two other girls from the basketball team, had joined you. Lila, a cool senior who always seemed to be the center of attention, and Jaz, a junior who was perpetually giggly, were already deep in conversation as they approached. The three girls brought a whirlwind of energy with them, disrupting the tranquil bubble you had created.

"Eh, de sumady here?" Lila asked rhetorically, plopping down without waiting for an answer. Her auburn ‘fro was pulled into a puff, and her cheeks were still splashed with rain from outside. She glanced at your sketchbook with mild curiosity before dismissing it entirely.

Jaz slid into the seat next to you, her tray clinking with a loud metallic scrape. Mikayla, her dark locs parted into two French braids, sat across from you. She gave you a brief nod, her expression unreadable. You hadn’t seen her since the strange encounter in the atrium and felt antsy being so close now.

They continued chatting and eating as if you weren't there, their laughter and banter filling the space between you. Lila was recounting a particularly amusing incident from practice, her hands animated as she spoke. Jaz laughed heartily, her voice ringing out above the din of the cafeteria. Mikayla smiled a bit but seemed more reserved, her eyes occasionally drifting towards you.

You felt a pang of anxiety, your mind scrambling for a way to escape the situation. Just as you were about to gather your things, Lila turned to you.

"Yu waan that?" she asked, picking up an apple from your tray with a mischievous grin. The green fruit was polished to a shine, and its crisp, tangy scent wafted over the table.

Before you could respond, Mikayla scowled at Lila. "Lila, yuh too rude! Yu cyaan jus thief from di gyal!" Her voice had a sharp edge to it, and her eyes flashed with a warning. Then, with a dramatic flourish, Mikayla snatched the apple from Lila's hand and took a bite herself. The crisp crunch echoed in the brief silence before the whole table erupted in laughter, the sound ringing in your ears.

You forced a smile, your heart pounding. The conversation shifted again, leaving you feeling even more out of place. Lila and Jaz resumed their animated discussion about the upcoming basketball game, their voices blending into the background noise of the cafeteria. Just as you were about to retreat back into your sketchbook, Jaz turned to you.

"Yaah a come tuh si wi tonight?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and she leaned in closer, her braids falling in loose waves around her face.

You hesitated, glancing nervously between the three girls. "Um, I wasn't planning to," you mumbled, your fingers tightening around your pencil. Your sketchbook suddenly felt like a flimsy shield against the social whirlwind.

"Nuh, yuh a guh ave fun- mi swear yuh a guh fulljoy it!" Jaz encouraged, her smile genuine. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope.

Mikayla chuckled, the sound making you flinch. "Yeah, yu haffi come. Yu shud try mek friend dem fi once," she said, her tone teasing. Her eyes met yours briefly, and you saw a flicker of something—was it amusement or something else entirely?

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The rest of the lunch break passed in a blur of awkwardness and forced conversation. The girls gossiped about their teammates, shared inside jokes, and included you in their banter a few times, though you mostly nodded and smiled, feeling like an outsider looking in.

Eventually, Lila and Jaz stood to leave, tossing casual goodbyes over their shoulders. Mikayla lingered behind, her eyes fixed on you. The cafeteria seemed to fade into the background, the noise dulling as she looked at you with a seriousness that caught you off guard.

"Mi expec tuh si yu tonight, Miss" she said directly, her voice holding a note of challenge. "Mi waan fi si yu deh.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving you with a swirling mix of emotions. You sat there for a moment, staring at the half-eaten apple on the table. Why had she invited you? What did she want? The questions gnawed at you, making it hard to concentrate as you gathered your things and left the canteen.

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