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ukulele-mixtape · 4 months ago

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Maple Scraps: The Siren's Call Chapters 12 + 13 (i don't feel like posting them separately lol)

context: angst scenes. tune got outed as the siren when eggman attacks restoration hq and basically destroys all of tune's hard work by making metal sonic install a vocal distortion collar on her, forcing the voices she's taken to retreat back to their owners and her own going to metal sonic, rendering her completely mute. silver and sonic confront her.

this was the last set of chapters i worked on bc then i realized i actually had to finish the fic properly, and even then the chapter's unfinished and ends completely abruptly (i have no desire to actually finish it) LMAO

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

CHAPTER 12:

“Twili…o quis,

..shu ento…vi.

Abed…so…on,

Qwe…olda..e...”

A song. A voice, no, multiple voices chimed in like a prayer floating in the wind, faint and pure.

It was beautiful. It was quiet. It was eerie. It was haunting.

…Where…was this…?

The voices continued, but they were no longer beautiful. They were destructive. They were blinding. They were painful. It was agony. Static rang, filling the fabric of reality and mercilessly breaking it at the seams. The broken choir sounded as if they were being signaled off from a dying record player. There was nothing left in their wake. Nothing could stop them. Nothing at all. He felt the world shake around him, every corner of this endless void of nothingness was out to get him.

It was just pure noise! Noise filled the air! It wouldn’t shut up, it wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried to scream, to yell anything! He wanted to scream, please, let him scream! Let him do anything!!

“Mu…as on…se,

Aln…ov…luuv...

tWli vO eqUiS,

aln nIv wO OLDANCE–”

STATIC FILLED EVERYTHING. EVERY THOUGHT, EVERY BREATH. MORE AND MORE, UNTIL HE COULD NO LONGER HEAR THE CHOIRS HAUNTING MELODY. UNTIL THE STATIC WAS ALL THAT WAS LEFT.

IT WAS TORTURE! OVERSTIMULATING!! HE COULDN’T TAKE IT!!!

WHY WAS IT SO LOUD?!

W H A T W A S T H A T M E L O D Y–?!

Sonic woke up with a heaving gasp. He struggled for oxygen. For anything he could grab onto as he jolted forward from his bed, head beaded with sweat. His breath was shallow, harsh, like if he had just gotten out of the deepest, darkest trenches of the ocean after struggling to surface for weeks. But just like he’d been dealing with for the past month and a half, his mouth uttered no sound. The echoes of his dream rang in his ears, clinging to his brain and bashing itself into his psyche. His head was pounding, the worst migraine he’d ever experienced in his life mangled his skull, and he couldn't think clearly at all. The warm light of the room was too much for him to bear, piercing into his eyes and causing him to squint harshly. He could see specks of color from the corners of his vision, floating around as if to mock his current suffering.

What the hell was this?

He couldn’t hear a thing. The ringing in his head became louder. And this time, he’d finally understand that he couldn’t ignore it, he couldn’t just think it’d eventually go away. Not this time.

Everything seemed to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes and plugged his ears, trying to get any sensory input to be as muffled as possible. But no matter what, it’d still hurt; the pain dreadfully persisted. He wouldn’t notice the periodic yelling of his name was getting more frantic, but he did feel every vibration it had to offer even from far away. He was sensitive to everything around him, and he hated it. He was completely, totally, debilitated. Just like in that void of endless harmony.

Finally, for what felt like an eternity, he felt firm grips on both his wrists that he clung close to his face as he clenched his hands into tight fists, and he had to forcefully pry his eyes open to take in Silver's overly distressed expression staring back widely at him.

“I’m right here,” Silver repeated over and over breathlessly. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I’m right here.”

But as soon as Sonic took notice, suddenly, like if it never happened, the noise just…completely stopped. The pain evaporated, the ringing silenced and he was finally able to take in his surroundings clearly, his body relaxing after a good long while of unconsciously being tense, a deep inaudible sigh exiting his mouth before he even had the ability to even process it.

“Hey, are you okay?” Silver brought Sonic back to reality, releasing the blue hedgehog’s wrists and cupping his face gently with his hands. Sonic felt Silver’s warmth even under his gloves, a soothing feeling washed over him. He closed his eyes, sleepily smiling and gave a small nod in response. He placed one of his hands atop one of Silver’s at his face, taking another deep breath and sighing, feeling the way Silver would rub his thumb against his soft muzzle.

“Y-you sure?” Silver questioned again, his tone quivering a bit. “You…you looked like you were in a lot of pain.”

Sonic took his hand off Silver’s, signaled for him to look down and began signing.

“I’m fine. It’s gone now.” his nimble hands spoke for him.

Silver, ever the worrier, shook his head with an elongated breathy sigh. “You really scared me. If I hadn’t come, I feel like you would have been like that for a lot longer.”

“I’m sorry, I promise, it’s over. I’m good.”

“Promise?”

Sonic warmly looked back at his partner, leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. Once Silver had that predictable blush festering on his cheeks, that soft grin he’d love to watch for eternity, he signed once more pointing one finger to his lips, before setting it down on his opposite hand balled into a fist.

“I promise.”

Reluctant, but deciding to trust him, Silver tightly embraced Sonic quietly, feeling the way Sonic’s body reflected his once frantically beating heart now starting to slow down into a soft, comfortable rhythm.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” Silver softly uttered. “That weird dream.”

Sonic gave him a small nod in return.

“That’s the first I've seen you get this bad before. I got up earlier than you did, so I just wanted to take a walk and get some air.” Silver rambled off, shuttering. “And when I came back you were holding your chest like you were having a heart attack! I tried nudging you at least a million times to wake you up, but nothing was working. You weren’t responding this time. And when you did wake up, you started convulsing and I didn’t know what to do, Sonic. I didn’t know, and you…” He trailed off.

Sonic rubbed against Silver’s back quietly, patting him gently to urge him to finish his thought.

“...You looked like hell. You didn’t register anything. We’ve been here at least a few minutes now.”

Had it really been that long this time? Sonic grimaced at the thought, choosing to tighten his grip on Silver and feeling the edges of his tuft tickle his nose, sinking deeper. Years ago, he’d probably never be this touchy feely with anyone. But now, he’d make any excuse to cling onto Silver like he was the last man on earth when they were alone. Silver reciprocated in kind.

“You shouldn’t have to go through this.” he mourned. “And I know you’re tough, I get it. We’ll get through this like we do everything else. But…I still can’t help but feel like I'm failing you right now because I don’t know what to do to help you. I should have been there with you the day you got your voice taken. I should have been there to protect you both.”

Sonic shook his head, rubbing soothing circles on Silver’s back, causing him to pull Sonic closer.

“I know…” Silver muttered affectionately. “What’s done is done. And I know we’ve got this. We’ve got this, and will fix this and we’ll do it together. Just like we always do.”

Sonic nodded once more, a smile gracing his features that Silver couldn’t see just yet. Silver could feel Sonic’s breathing become slower, more relaxed. But…he still couldn’t hear it. It made Silver’s heart ache. Sonic’s voice was truly gone. Silver couldn’t help but at least try to imagine what he remembered of it, goofy and cocky and full of life. His laughter was chirpy and quick, his tone lower in recent years yet still full of that same energy Silver knew and loved. Even if it had only been a short time, Silver felt like not hearing Sonic’s precious way of speaking was crushing him. Like he lost a part of what made him him.

And every time he’d turn the corner, Silver could see Sonic reflexively try to sound anything he could while he mingled with his friends. And when Silver noticed how inevitably disappointed he’d be when nothing came out, taking out his phone and tapping away his desires to show whomever it was, when he had to start reteaching himself and reusing sign language, something he hadn’t wanted to use since he was little, it bore into Silver’s chest, reminding him of how much he’d scorn the person who had robbed Sonic of that freedom he so desperately wanted back.

Eventually, Silver was shifting forward for Sonic to lay back on the bed, resting his ear against Sonic’s chest and taking in the way his heartbeat thumped against his ribs, the closest he was ever going to get to any noise coming from his partner. He sighed, Sonic swiping a hand against Silver’s quills. And they just laid there for a while, just basking in each other's warmth. Sonic patted Silver’s head gently to get his attention soon, and slowly the psychic obliged, raising his head and placing his chin comfortably on Sonic’s chest, their noses just barely touching, sharing a loving gaze with each other, their minds confident and resolute.

They’d been through the worst of the worst in the past, fighting off time manipulating monsters and killer robots, doppelgangers and zombie hordes alike. There was nothing these two couldn’t handle; not just together, but with every ally they'd ever known, every friend they’d ever made. Regardless of the circumstances, Sonic knew they were in good hands and with a toothy grin and his playful tongue out, he would remind Silver of the same. Sonic may have lost his voice, but that alone wasn’t what made him who he was. He was everything, he was the world that Silver was desperate to protect.

The two leaned in for another good morning kiss, routine as usual…

And that’s when they heard the firing of something loud from above them, so loud the sound echoed for a few seconds into the atmosphere. Then, a deep booming crash, and the sound of yelling coming from just outside their room, the vibrations causing small pebbles from the ceiling to fall, startling the two out of their shared bed.

“What the heck was that?!” Silver’s beading golden eyes flared, head jolting in every direction.

Sonic wasted no time, rising to his feet and throwing on his sneakers, snatching the door open and taking off, a powerful gust of wind trailing behind him as he sped past the hallways. Silver was right on his tail, flying to follow Sonic down to the main hall. People were scrambling to gather their bearings, yelling and running towards the closest emergency exits they could find, some of which were blocked off by heavy metal panels torn from the roof. There was a gaping circular hole in the center of the upper wall in the main hall, smashed and crawling with badniks making their way inside. Small fires were erupting, stone and metal paneled debris littered the floor, causing a few people to stumble.

Sonic waved in Silver’s face from above, signing quickly at him.

“Get that debris cleared from the exits, I'll help take out those badniks!”

“On it!” And with that, Silver was off, charging up a boost of energy to send him skyrocketing across the clamor, starting with the most crowded area of the headquarters, the main entrance. A large, looming boulder stood in the way, glass shards everywhere, most likely it was chucked at the window and landed square at the door. With a strong clench of his fingers, Silver took a deep breath and clawed his hands, performing a raising motion of his arms, a blue aura forming around the boulder. Slowly but surely, it was moving upward, rising from the sky almost like magic. The scrambling civilians would take off, some thanking Silver in scattered chirps as he held onto the boulder as best he could. Once a good amount of people were out of the way, Silver lowered the boulder to face right next to the entrance, unable to do anything more than that for the time being: there were still blockages to free up.

–

The robots may have not been all that tough, but they came in droves and were quick as can be, circling around the blue hedgehog in waves. Sonic blazed into the hordes of the badniks littering the floors. Flying Spina’s came from above, slicing into the air, but Sonic quickly dodged and attacked, utilizing an already destroyed Motobug as a weapon, sending at least a few Spinas into the nearest wall with a hard metallic SLAM! Then came the Buzzbomers and Egg Pawns. A cocky smile etched into his muzzle as Sonic quickly disposed of the trash, revving up a spin dash into the crowd of Egg Pawns, the robots barely having a moment to even swing at him with their pointed swords.

Once they were taken care of, he’d homing attack into the Buzzbomers charging straight for him, bashing in their heads, small explosions raging behind him. And just as Sonic thought it was over, giving a flick to his nose in satisfaction and wiping his hands clean as he landed swiftly on the ground, a swing from a very familiar hammer came just beyond his peripheral vision, taking out a leftover Egg Pawn he’d neglected, leaving a large, heavy imprinted dent on the robot’s head. He watched as it fell motionless, and Amy casually swept in to meet his gaze, his posture showcasing how taken aback he was as she casually leaned her body against the weight of her Piko Piko Hammer. Nevertheless, he was thrilled to see her, giving her a big thumbs up.

“You missed one,” she mocked teasingly. Sonic sucked in his teeth playfully, crossing his arms mouthing a quick “Thanks, Ames”.

“The Diamond Cutters are with Silver; they’re helping out with the hordes invading just outside the main entrance, but there’s apparently still commotion coming from the shopping center. Let’s get down there!”

Sonic nodded in understanding, scooping up Amy in his arms bridal style, speeding towards the shopping center's direction. From the distance, they could see more badniks, larger and covered in tough armor, but strangely enough, entering the fray of the nearby shopping center were three mechanical Mobian-like beings, haunting distorted noises echoing from their caged mouths. They had smooth paneled heads with embedded over-ear headphones on the side and a faceplate with a colorful equalizer where their eyes should have been. They sported arms with mechanical drum hands, and their torsos were devoid of legs, a large disco ball-like base in place of them spinning around and allowing them to float.

The two didn’t hesitate, Amy taking a direct assault at any robot dumb enough to get close, effortlessly slamming her hammer against their hard metal frames. Sonic confidently allowed her to work her magic, zipping past and making sure to keep her protected, dodging all obstacles. The badniks were taken care of swiftly, but now it was time for the Robo-Mobian creatures. Determined, Amy called out to Sonic:

“Sonic! Croquette Bomber!” Oh yeah, this was so happening.

Sonic gently placed Amy down, excitedly getting into a ready position before revving up another spin dash, this time much faster, the speed taking off tiny bits of the floor as he rolled. Amy steadied her aim with a focused tongue to the side of her mouth, widening her stance and bending her knees, before swinging her hammer with the force of a thousand suns. Sonic went flying, but before he was able to even make a connection, the Robo-Mobians screeched a loud, high pitched noise, a sonar-like wavelength warping the area causing Sonic and Amy to groan out in pain. Sonic lost his balance, tumbling forward and reflexively covered his ears to muffle out the noise, but as soon as he did, he was viciously tackled by the neck to the wall of the clothing boutique by another one of the Robo-Mobians. Amy ran towards the blue hedgehog, readying another swing, but another screech from the other two Robo-Mobians decidedly ended her attempt to save Sonic, making her collapse in distress, her hammer falling close behind as she covered her ears.

“Amy!” Sonic mouthed out in alarm. Squirming in place, he managed to get a harsh kick to the chest on the Robo-Mobian in front of him, forcing it to crash into the other robot, freeing himself. He was on his feet in a flash, rushing towards Amy’s trembling side, placing a hand on her shoulder. Amy gave a quivering nod of assurance, looking shakily at the enemies before them.

“W-what are those things?” she whimpered. “They don’t look anything like the usual Eggman robots.”

Sonic shook his head in response. The Robo-Mobians quickly recovered, speeding towards their opponents and readying their drum hands, flying into the air preparing to go in for a smash. Sonic acted fast, snatching Amy away and hopping to the top of the boutiques shop, the latter grabbing her hammer as quickly as she could, before the robots broke through the tile, the floor violently crumbling away.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Amy called out. “We can’t take these things alone, they’ll just keep using that awful noise to down us again.”

She was interrupted by the Robo-Mobians charging their flight once more, ready to take off against the hedgehog duo, when suddenly…

“...You better step off!” A ear piercing roar followed by a massive energy blast came from just beyond, knocking the Robo-Mobians into the glass of the clothing store. Tune clumsily stepped into the limelight, heaving breaths as her eyes glowed a vicious yellow hue, her fashion glasses placed firmly on her head. Her demeanor said everything: she was overwhelmingly pissed.

“Yo, any day today y’all!” She annoyingly called out. “Get your butts in gear and help me take care of these goons!”

It took a second, but Sonic recovered leaping into action, Amy following close behind and running up to a rising Robo-Mobian, giving a hearty punch in its direction, finishing the job Tune started. The robot was sent packing, exploding from out far, bits of its body scattering. As they did, colorful red, blue and green auras emanated from their cores, Tune’s eyes widened in horror as they scattered into the distance.

Amy lept in for the other robot ready to ambush Tune from behind, slamming its head into the tile with her hammer hard, the mechanical pieces dripping when she lifted up the mallet, another purple aura materializing and floating away. The three were breathing hard, Tune much more so than the others, having a moment to finally recuperate. Once they were able to catch their breaths fully, Amy and Sonic both gave bright smiles to Tune, walking towards her carefully. But Tune was solely focused on the machine just in front of her, its body twitching weakly as a teal colored vapor seeped out of the wires of its chest cavity.

It couldn’t have been…

“Tune!” Amy cried, raising her arms in an attempt to give Tune a hug. “We didn’t know you could do something like that! Thanks for the save–”

“...This is...a Melodian.” Tune whimpered, halting them in their tracks, the duo taking note of her clawed hands balling into tight fists, so tight in fact they swore they could see her piercing herself. “I thought...what's with the robots? It's only supposed to be Alto's influence stretched out...”

The teal colored vapor circled around the robot's carcass weakly, Tune collapsing onto the floor in an attempt to cup it in her hands. A tiny voice was heard from its light, a song echoing into the wind faintly, as if it was slowly dying in Tune’s trembling hands.

“No! P-please don’t go!” the girl pleaded. “I just need more time! Please just give me more time to fix things!”

Despite her wishes, the materialized voice was fading, and fast. Tune cried out in horror, trying anything in her power to keep the tiny voice to herself, protecting it like a tortured mother. “I’m begging you! l can't fail you too!”

The hedgehog duo could only watch as the magical vapor slowly but surely drifted away into the atmosphere, and the world around them became morbidly quiet. Whatever had just happened, it wasn’t good, emphasized by Tune’s wailing exclamation, reaching into the air for nothing.

“Tune?” Amy worriedly stepped forward, reaching out her hand, but before she could she was stopped by Tune’s strikingly widened glare, her eyes still glowing that dangerous purple aura.

“Get away from me.” she spat, her body shuddering in her hysteria. “Do yourself a favor and leave me out of…whatever this is.”

“W-what?” Amy said exasperated. “But we could really use your help! Restoration HQ still has areas that need clearing out of Eggman’s robots. People need us to get them out–”

“Y’all should be thinking of a way to get yourselves out of here, not wasting your time helping people perfectly capable of handling themselves! Your friends already got most of the people evacuated anyway.” Tune gestured to the twitching robots on the ground with a sneer. “What, you think more of those things ain’t coming? They’re based on Melodist tech. There has to be at least hundreds, maybe even thousands of them wrecking havoc all over the place! That crazy doctor must’ve had a hand on this. He's obviously working with Alto to sabotage everything. They’ll destroy your ears before you even have the chance to look the other way.” The hedgehog duo tilted their heads in confusion.

“Wait, ‘Melodist’ tech? 'Alto'?” Amy chirped. “What are you talking about?”

“T-that’s–” Tune’s heart stopped in her chest, her big mouth opening against her better judgment. “...Not important. Look, just get the rest of your posse and get out of here, unless you want to end up like her.” She pointed towards the now still, lifeless carcass of the robot in front of her. “This place is done for. So much for that security you promised. ” Her last words seeped out like venom.

“Tune wait, we’re not leaving you like this after all that!” Amy pleaded, reaching out her hand.

“...Goodbye, Amy.” Tune muttered out, activating her skates and readying herself to take off. Her view of the exit was suddenly blocked off by Sonic’s body, who had been silently watching the whole conversation take place, taking the initiative to speed in front of her with his hands stretched out. He glared at her with those same knowing eyes she couldn’t stand to face. It was disapproving, he was staring right through her once again, almost as if to say “I thought you were better than this”. It was well deserved, and Tune soon found that pit in her stomach growing once more. Turning her head, she quietly uttered a tiny sound. “I promise to fix this…but I need to do it alone. I’m not allowing you to get involved in my mistakes anymore than you already are.”

Tune pushed Sonic aside roughly, causing him to stumble back a little. But before she could even take a step to skate off, there was a blue blur. Tune was tackled from the side right as she went to take her leave, familiar metal claws grabbed at her shoulders and sent her speeding off into the air with a scream, causing her to drop the blaster and her glasses falling off her head.

“W-what the hell?!” Tune cried out angrily, frantic eyes darting. “Get off me, you creep!”

Amy gasped as she pointed towards the two flying figures. “Sonic, that’s…!”

They recognized it immediately: Metal Sonic, exiting the gaping hole in the window and heading outside, Tune frantically thrashing against him, kicking and screaming the whole way. Eggman had to be there. They needed to catch up fast. With a shared nod of understanding, Sonic once more grabbed Amy and sped off, his pace allowing him to effortlessly climb the window and jump out of the hole, just in time to see Metal Sonic slam Tune down onto the ground mercilessly.

From across the battlefield, Silver and the Diamond Cutters were locked and loaded in the fray against Eggman himself, in a gigantic towering battle mech. They had no time to react to Tune’s predicament, Silver launching Tangle, who in turn held a wispon welding Whisper wrapped around her stretchy tail, right atop the mech’s arm. Whisper went in for a disarming blow, utilizing her purple wisp in an attempt to saw off the forearm. Tangle whipped around the body, going straight for Eggman’s cockpit. Silver threw her a large rock, Tangle grabbing it by the tail before immediately smashing it into the glass.

“You pesky rodents just don’t know when to call it quits!” Eggman growled, his voice projected through an audio receiver on his mech. “My beautiful creations are too good for you; Now, get off my mech!” With a push of a button and a crank of a lever, the mech’s body started wildly spinning in place, Tangle and Whisper trying desperately to hold on, but ultimately were flung off, Silver just managing to grab a hold of the two and gently settling them down on the ground once more.

“Eggman, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Tune glared at the man piloting the mech, snarling. “I should have taken you down when I had the chance back in Melodia-!” Metal Sonic only tightened his grip as if in response to her threat, making her groan out in pain.

Eggman’s cackle echoed into the atmosphere, wicked and cocky. “My dear, you seem to have strayed a bit too far from home and caused quite the stir. Tell me, what was your plan here? To rid the entire world of voice in a pathetic attempt to spare people from Alto? How absolutely absurd. But no matter. So as long as you behave yourself, your pathetic life will be spared. After all, you have the highest honor of letting your voice be used for something greater than yourself, and I'd hate for you to miss it.” He grabbed onto his mic, calling out to his favorite creation from beyond. “Metal Sonic, get the Harmonic Distortion collar on the girl and get back to base. As much as I’d love to toy with these fools, we’ve no need to stick around.”

Everyone’s blood went cold, turning to face the chaos ensuing beyond. It felt like every bone on Tune’s body was breaking, her frame completely surrounded by larger badniks, tall and looming. Her hands interlaced with Metal Sonic’s harshly, her body struggling to hold on, Sonic and Amy fast approaching trying to burst through and help, Amy calling out her name in desperation as she and Sonic fought the onslaught of robots, Silver and the Diamond Cutters hot on their tails, rushing to their defense.

“ORDERS ACKNOWLEDGED: SUBJECT ‘FORMER MELODIST MAESTRO’ IDENTIFIED.” Metal Sonic’s low, threatening voice rumbled. “INITIATING VOCAL SUPPRESSION PROTOCOL.”

Tune was losing consciousness and fast. She whimpered against Metal Sonic’s restraint, mentally forcing her arms to try and fight against his overwhelming strength. She could see the chaos ensuing around her from the corner of her eye, how everyone was desperately struggling to reach her, how Sonic and Silver raced against the clock, trashing every single robot in their wake just to attempt to get Metal Sonic off her, but were constantly being swarmed by more and more badniks. Silver would use his power to sweep them away, but more would just come, seemingly out of thin air. This was getting nowhere, they were losing. They were losing hard. She had no choice.

I need a way out, she thought to herself. I need this to end. For them.

Breathing in as deep as she could, she tried to attack, focusing all her energy into another sonar wave, much more powerful than her usual ones. Everyone’s eyes widened in shock as a faint glowing aura formed around her body, her eyes glowing in similar fashion. Her hair raised to the sky and a choir screamed out from Tune’s vocal chords, a lower register male voice added to the mix echoing a guttural, angered sound.

But even with all the voices combined, it wasn’t enough. Metal Sonic was fast, too fast for Tune to even manage to yell out for more than a millisecond, engaging Tune with a violent sucker punch to her cheek, her head shooting to the side with a yelp from the impact. She swore she could see one of her sharp canines being involuntarily spit out through her already blurry vision. Even despite everything, she struggled to try again, determined.

Another punch, more ferocious than the last, Tune saw stars. But she kept going, her aura quickly weakening, eyes glazed over.

Her aura melted away, Tune’s voice thoroughly silenced with another punch, this time directly onto her skull. The world was spinning. Metal Sonic’s chest cavity opened revealing a wired storage compartment with a thin collar embedded with a strange looking speaker, forcing it upon Tune’s neck, electricity zapping every nerve and muscle in her body. Her entire being was on fire, her muscles violently shook and contorted. Her eyes and mouth glowed sickly yellow as hundreds of lights aggressively materialized and scattered out, like she was vomiting a morbid rainbow of sound, screams heard throughout every corner.

Finally, when the mesh of colors floated into the air, a single, solitary yellow aura slithered softly from Tune’s body. She desperately tried to reach for it aimlessly, her eyes widened in agony and fear. To her horror, it was placed directly into Metal Sonic’s chest cavity, morphing as a small, pulsing energy ball, a familiar melody singing in its hue, caged into a small capsule. The world was slowly going black.

“N-no…Al…to….” Tune gave one last gurgle before her body finally gave out on her abruptly, rendering her completely unconscious in the middle of the field.

As the auras of screams scattered into the wind, a blue aura shot directly beyond the crowd of robots and straight to Sonic at inhuman speed, his body contorting as it entered his being. He grabbed at his throat instinctively, and for the first time in months, he could hear himself breath, gasping for air and falling to the ground, Amy barely managing to keep him from completely collapsing.

“Sonic!” Amy yelped, setting her hammer aside to grab onto his shoulders.

“Amy…” Sonic finally managed to get the words out raspily, hearing his own tone felt foreign to him.

“TARGET NEUTRALIZED.”

Eggman once more laughed maniacally, watching as Metal Sonic grabbed Tune’s limp body from the ground by her newly attached collar, throwing her to the side like if she was nothing more than garbage ready to be disposed of.

“Great work,” Eggman toothy grinned. “Let’s see this pesky little Melodist try to gather more voices now that Metal Sonic has claimed her power. The Dominion Hymn will be mine once I find the key to making Alto submit to me entirely. I'll come back for the rest of those voices soon enough. Now, all units: get back to the ship!”

Eggman began to take his exit, taking one last conniving look at Tune’s body, grinning devilishly. “Congratulations, my dear. You've just granted me the key to control much more than just Melodia.”

And with that, just as soon as they arrived, Eggman’s robots scattered, any who were being attacked would quickly evade and march onward. Soon enough, they would all clamor to Eggman’s humongous battleship above, ascending from multiple floating platforms awaiting their arrival. Eggman followed suit, and even when the Restoration members all tried their very best to knock him back down, it didn’t matter. He escaped confidently, his mocking laughter echoing in their faces, stretching across the atmosphere, a product of their failure…

It was eerily somber, a light wind all that sounded off as the battleship flew away. The fires had been dealt with, the citizen’s properly looked after, but the damage to Restoration HQ was massive. It would take several months for them to fix the ramifications of Eggman’s swift invasion. No one had any excuses, no explanation.

But Sonic? He could only stare back at Tune’s softly breathing frame as medics would arrive on the scene to drag her tarnished and unconscious body away to the nearest medical station. The world stood still around him, even as reinforcements and medic squads came to access the damage. He could only take in Eggman’s words. It was all that etched into his brain:

“Let’s see this pesky little Melodist try to gather more voices now.”

That’s what he said. But it couldn’t be…It just couldn’t. But his fragmented memories, the ones laid at his feet for months since his voice was taken, flickered in his brain, painfully playing out like racing film. The fight in Casinopolis, the electrifying kiss, 'Rhythm’s' mournful expression as she bowed to him as if he was her only audience member, and most importantly…that haunting, choir-like voice, echoing inside the dark walls of the venue; the same voice from Sonic’s nightmarish visions, the same one heard coming from her mouth. It all came back to him. Her attempt to stop Metal Sonic’s assault proved everything. He could no longer deny it.

Tune was the Siren they’d been searching for. She’d been hiding right under their noses the whole time just waiting for her opportunity to strike. And Sonic had unknowingly welcomed her into their lives with open arms.

When Tune was safely placed on the emergency stretcher, Sonic turned to the rest of his friends with a dazed shake of his head, trotting in their direction. His heart skipped a whole few beats when he noticed Silver’s contemplative, dark expression staring daggers at Tune being dragged away. It was almost like he was debating charging towards her and doing something Sonic knew he’d be more than capable of. He’d seen that look before, he had been on the other end of that look before in the past. And he knew exactly what it meant.

So with a swift movement, before Silver could even take that first step, Sonic grabbed onto his shoulder, squeezing it tight. Silver couldn’t help but glare at him, his tunnel vision shifting only slightly by the blue hedgehog.

“She’s the one who did it: She’s the Siren.” Silver all but growled. “She’s been stealing people’s voices away like they were tools.” His frustrated voice was getting louder with every passing sentence. “She’s been using us this whole time and we never questioned it for a second! She could have been plotting this whole time to steal the entire Restoration’s voices and we would have submitted to it immediately without ever even realizing it!”

“Calm down, Silver.” Amy’s voice chirped from behind. “We can’t just start assuming things we don’t know the full details of.”

“Amy’s right,” Tangle’s voice broke through. “I mean, she could have done it when she first arrived, but she didn’t. That’s gotta count for something, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t trust that she won’t try to, now that she’s been fully outed.” Whisper softly refuted. “We don’t know the full scope of her power. We don’t know her motive. But she’s a threat nonetheless. She needs to be put down.”

“We can’t do that to her!” Amy frustratedly argued. “If nothing else, we need to know the why before we can come up with a plan going forward.”

“Does it even matter at this point?!” Silver angrily retorted. “She stole the voices of countless other people who could potentially be suffering through the same thing, and she’s been lying to our faces about it the whole time. How can you defend that?!”

“I’m not,” Amy calmly stated, her palm raised to try and put an end to Silver’s line of thinking. “What I’m saying is that if we want to have any chance of fixing it, we need to get her to talk. And she can’t do that if she’s being beaten to a pulp while she’s still down.”

Silver went to argue once more, but Sonic’s firm grip brought him back to reality, his eyes darting towards his partner, who’s stern yet determined look made Silver stop in his tracks. Releasing Silver’s shoulders, Sonic spoke up:

“Silver...” He raspily said, noticing how Silver’s eyes widened at the sound of his voice. Silver latched onto Sonic’s cheeks, emotions layered in every corner of the psychic's expression.

“Y-you’re…” he trailed off.

“I’m here.” Sonic grinned, if only to try and ease the overwhelming tension. “I’m back.”

Silver grabbed onto Sonic like a lifeline, tightly embracing him as if he’d never see him again for as long as he lived.

When Tune was physically capable, when she would finally wake, they’d have much to discuss.

CHAPTER 13:

Silver was stationed firmly outside Tune’s room in the infirmary. He was never allowed in, and was told countless times by multiple staff members and friends alike to give it a rest. But he refused. For days while Tune recovered, still unconscious, he sat there just outside her door for hours at a time, only leaving when he needed to help out rebuilding and to check on his miraculously undamaged garden.

He was awaiting her return. For anything. He was unbelievably angry, conflicted. He felt mournful and betrayed all at the same time. His mind went back to all the times he’d put himself out for Tune, how he’d chosen to make friends with the same person who’d stolen his beloved’s identity away. How she fought tooth and nail to retain that identity, only to be forcefully restrained and revoked of that privilege.

Whatever Tune was plotting, Silver wanted to be the first to know. For all the fighting, the attempts to make her as comfortable as possible around the members of the Restoration, his overwhelming patience to watch her float around the bushes whenever they’d attempt to get her to talk about anything regarding herself that didn’t involve the bare minimum factoids, Silver wouldn’t allow her to escape from this. Because at this moment, the consequences of what she did now became a matter of personal vendetta. His future was once again at stake for the first time in years, and she was solely the one to blame. He’d get to the bottom of it, he’d enact justice for the people she’d taken the liberties from.

And if she refuted at any point, he was ready to do whatever it took to get her to confess.

Despite his anger, Silver couldn’t help going back to the night on top of the greenhouse. Her foul attitude since that day had mended slightly, but her demeanor and insight about herself still lingered on in his brain:

“Don’t you think you should give this to someone who’d actually deserve it?”

“I don’t deserve y'all's kindness.”

“Y’all need to learn to put that energy towards people who need it more. People who deserve it.”

But the last conversation Silver would have with her, the day Sonic and him joined her on the sands on their trip to the beach, right before she planned to leave for New Mobotropolis, watching the waves go by and the world drift away, stuck to his angry, breaking heart.

“I can’t promise to spill my secrets right away. Frankly, I’m still of the mindset that y’all would hate me forever once I did. But I want to get better. It’ll be slow, but I’m willing to put in the work.”

And the daunting question still floating in the air, an unconscious plea for help.

“Can you guys be patient with me a little longer while I work my way towards that?”

Without Silver knowing, Tune had basically laid out the facts of her apparent turmoil with each conversation they’d have. And she had warned them directly: they’d hate her if she spoke about her past. He was reluctant to admit it, but there was a lot of truth to that statement. If not hatred, resentment felt more appropriate. Resentment and frustration for her selfish actions, even if she couldn’t have known how this would have affected him personally.

When the door to Tune’s medical room opened up for the third time that day, after about a week of empty updates on her condition, a nurse in a white lab coat was the first to acknowledge his presence.

“She’s awake.”

Silver suddenly felt his blood go cold. Would he have the heart to do it alone? To step inside and confront her dead on? Should he?

…He gave a small nod to the nurse, pulled out his phone, and gave a quick text to Sonic. It was quick, direct and to the point.

“Come down to the ward.”

It didn’t take long for Sonic to get the message, decidedly leaving Silver on ‘read’ before dashing towards the medical ward. When he got there, it was dim, the atmosphere stifling. The looming energy that Silver was exuding was so out of place for him, it was dreadfully painful watching him contemplate everything right then and there. Sonic joined him by the front door, taking his hand and giving it a tight squeeze. The nurse awaiting the speedster, opened her mouth to speak.

“Before you go in, there’s something you should know.” she began. The two hedgehogs looked at the nurse as she spoke, listening intently. “She’s stable, but she’s…she lacks focus. And whatever that collar that Metal Sonic put on her won’t come off no matter how hard we’ve tried. He took a direct assault towards her brain, and, well, due to the impacts and slight fractures she suffered through, she seems unwilling to speak a word since she’s woken up.”

Of course. It could never be that easy.

“Due to how fragile the situation is, it’s best not to stress her out too much.” the nurse continued, clasping her fingers together. “I know this is hard for the both of you, but if I can ask, please: Try to remain as calm as you can while you speak to her.”

Despite the nurse's insistence, the duo pressed on. With another firm squeeze of each other's hand and a nod to the nurse, from both of them this time, Sonic and Silver pushed the door open and entered the room.

There, lying in a hospital bed with a full tray of food she was aimlessly pushing around, was the Siren. The two walked up to her quietly, Silver’s stoney expression hardened on his face. They both took the double seat farthest from her bed, unable (or rather, unwilling) to really get much closer. She barely acknowledged them, choosing to stare blankly at her tray. Frustrated, Silver used his power to steal away her spork and tray, placing it atop a nearby table next to the window. When she still didn’t bother raising her head, hands loosely placed atop her lap, he forced her to face them head on, using his power to gently lift it up. Her eyes still barely looked at the two, glazed over and undetermined. Her posture was limp, lifeless.

In essence, her very soul had given up. It was like she was barely hanging on, existing only because her body demanded it. But she herself was absent.

“I’ll get right to the point:” Sonic was the first to speak. “Why’d you do it?”

The Siren stood quiet, unbothered by his interrogation.

“It doesn’t help you any if you keep quiet.” Sonic continued, annoyed. “I think you at least owe us an explanation as to why I had to go months on end with my voice in your throat.”

Still nothing. It was like nothing was registering, or rather she chose to ignore it. Unrelenting, Sonic pressed on, trying a slightly different approach. “You’ve got nowhere else to go, y’know. The entire Restoration’s got your face down. Even if you try to run, we’ll catch you. So why not just fess up now? It’s not like you’ve got anything else to lose.”

Silver glared at the Siren’s glazed over expression, he felt his quills standing up with every passing second.

“You know, just for the sake of it, I decided it best to check on my timeline using a pair of Chaos Emeralds we have hidden away at headquarters. And do you know what I found?” Silver spat out harshly. “A freaking ghost town. People are aimlessly wandering around, and those freaky robots are marching the streets.”

His hands balled into fists, trying to keep calm like the nurse told him, but his emotions were quickly getting the better of him. Surprisingly, his words seemed to have struck…something in the Siren’s core. Her ears twitched at his words, eyelids raising if only ever so slightly.

“You ruined it,” he could barely stop himself. “Because of you, I have to start back from square one. I’m back where I started, like if all the hard work I put into protecting my timeline didn’t matter in the end. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

He saw the Siren gulp involuntarily, her expression softening and eyes glistening slightly as she watched Sonic place a hand on Silver’s back, rubbing circles, but choosing not to take his eyes off of her.

“Why won’t you answer me, damnit?!” Silver yelled out desperately, his eyes shooting out small tears he couldn’t feel himself cry out, a bit of saliva spitting out from his mouth. “Why can’t you just talk to us?!”

The walls of the room reverberated and echoed back at him tauntingly and empty, the Siren wincing slightly. A moment passed as the three locked eyes with each other silently. And then, after an agonizingly long beat, the Siren finally moved without a sound, raising a fist to her chest and circling it around. Sonic and Silver recognized it immediately.

“I’m sorry.” she signed, breathing harshly yet mutedly as she lowered her head once more. She repeatedly circled her fist over and over again as she sobbed, tears falling into her blanket soundlessly. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” The duo sat dumbfounded. There was no way…

“You…can’t be serious.” Sonic muttered out, words escaping him.

The Siren just kept signing over and over, before grasping at her disheveled hair, the green she once wore was now faded almost entirely, revealing its natural black color. Her body mutedly heaved, shuddering as she continued to cry. She was like a child, rocking back and forth as she tried desperately to soothe herself and regain composure, to no avail. She tried signing as much as she could, her hands clumsily voicing what she could not speak.

“I didn’t wanted to hurt you.” she shivered, her errors in sign quite noticeable and movements expressly inexperienced. “I wanted my go home. I wanted to go my home. But my home is wrong. I can’t go home.”

The two hedgehogs didn’t know what to make of it. They had never seen this side of her before. Once she was a confident and brash loudmouth, now a mute, sobbing shell of her former self. It was like she was a completely different person. And it for some reason ached at the two deeply, watching her grovel atop her lone hospital bed, without any outlet but her hands to vocalize her pain, which were now once again occupied, grasping at her head.

Despite every part of himself telling him not to, Silver stood up and took a seat across from the girl. Despite his frustrations and every single part of him telling him it was wrong, there was still some tinge of sympathy watching the Siren pathetically mourn. He couldn’t understand it, but he felt deeply inclined, reaching his arms out to pluck the Siren’s clawed hands from out of her hair and onto his waist, placing both hands on her shoulders. She tried to resist his help instinctively, but he refused to let her. Once she understood, she aimlessly grasped at Silver’s body as she wailed uncontrollably. She kept mouthing out her apologies, despite no one able to hear. Sonic followed shortly afterward, taking a seat right next to the girl opposite of Silver and placing a hand on her back. He was unsure what to do for the first time, watching as her body heaved into his partner's stomach. He took a glance at Silver, who in turn worriedly stared back at him, his mouth thinning into a line. The two were on the same page: they were genuinely at a loss.

It took a while for the girl to recover. But once she was calmed somewhat, she released herself from Silver’s gentle grasp, Sonic removing his hand and resting it behind him, watching as the girl quietly signed off as best as she could.

“My home is in–dangered.” she hesitantly spelled out. “A-l-t-o took it from me. I do voice stealing because it…makes me strong. Makes me strong to chase away A-l-t-o.”

“How does it make you strong?” Sonic asked.

“My voice…” The Siren, unsure of how to sign it, tapped the two hedgehog's chest with dual pointed fingers and gestured openly with her arms, clawing her hands like she was grasping at something on them before pretending to eat something massive. She gulped down, and then stretched an arm out into the distance, the other hand going for her chest like she was an opera singer. Then, she flexed her arms like she was proving something.

“I don’t get it…” Sonic scratched the inside of his ear. “You eat them or something?”

The Siren groaned out mutedly. She scanned the area for something to write on, eyes focused on a lone notepad and a small pen left behind by the nurse. She gestured to it, Silver using a single finger to bring it to her with his power. She scribbled quickly.

“THE MORE VOICES I STEAL, THE MORE POWERFUL MINE BECOMES. IT’S LIKE THEY BECOME PART OF ME. MY INCANTATIONS ARE STRONGER THAT WAY. THEY REACH FURTHER.”

“But that still doesn’t explain the why, Tune.” Silver spoke up. “Why are you doing this? What’s your end goal here?”

She hesitated at first, unsure of how to explain. Silver tried again, desperate for anything she could muster.

"Please, just let us help you. Talk to us, Tune."

There was no turning back. She was already in deep trouble, and it was pointless to try and lie anymore. The words she wrote next were simple and direct, full of the most honesty she forced herself to muster that day.

“I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU.”

‘Protect’? What did that mean? She continued swiftly.

“ALTO CAN STRETCH HIS VOICE TO OTHER PEOPLE AND CONTROL THEIR MINDS. HE LITERALLY FORCES HIMSELF ONTO YOU WITH HIS VOICE. BUT HE CAN’T DO IT TO PEOPLE WHO ARE WITHOUT A VOICE TO MANIPULATE.”

“So you steal other people’s voices so that Alto can’t get to them first?” Sonic asked, grasping at his throat instinctively. “So that day in Casinopolis…”

“I STOLE YOUR VOICE IN AN ATTEMPT TO MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T FALL VICTIM TO HIS SPELL." The Siren scrawled out. "I WANTED TO DO IT FOR EVERYONE AT THAT VENUE. EVEN IF YOU CAN’T SPEAK, YOU CAN STILL LIVE YOUR LIVES. YOU STILL HAVE OTHER WAYS TO COMMUNICATE. BUT ALTO STRIPS THAT FREE WILL THE MOMENT HE GETS HIS HANDS ON YOU. I HAD TO MAKE THE HARD DECISION. EVEN IF IT MEANT BECOMING THE ENEMY, I CHOSE TO PROTECT.”

“But why not just say something, Tune?” Silver frustratedly reprimanded. “We could have helped you. We would have understood—” A harsh slap on his thigh with her two fingers was all he needed to shut up. She quickly flipped to the next page, already taken nearly half the notepad up in her writing and continued, her annoyance at Silver's comment proved by how her handwriting worsened.

“DO YOU HONESTLY THINK PEOPLE WOULD BE OKAY WITH ME JUST STEALING THEIR VOICE AWAY IF I JUST UP AND ASKED? EVEN IF I HAD THE TIME AND OPPORTUNITY TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING? DO YOU HONESTLY THINK THEY’D BELIEVE ME? BE SO FOR REAL RIGHT NOW.”

“I hate to admit it, but she has a point, Silv.” Sonic sighed.

YADA YADA PLOT DETAILS WRITING IS HARD I LIKE CAMP BETTER OKAY THAT'S THE END YEYYYYY

#maple talking shit #sonic the hedgehog #maple's writing adventures #maple scraps #i'm wholeheartedly not expecting anyone to read this so i am once again imploring ppl to mute that tag bc no i will not stop #i still have a few more i wanna share but one is more lighthearted and the other is a little heavy on the cw #i'll def make sure to label them accordingly but still #had to kinda stop w this bc tune was becoming too broody and i wanted her to end her arc w her being a comedic shithead #which to be fair #the brooding was the initial intent bc she has really bad insecurities and a savior complex #but like it was getting a bit excessive at times LMAO #also i think if i ever write for silver in a more serious context #i really do have to take a step back and make sure he's not how he's written here #something about it just kinda feels off #i did something good in a previous chapter and then i kinda got carried away as i continued #it's a good learning experience but one i wish didn't have to come at the expense of my fav being a bit too ooc for my tastes LMAO #we are learning tho!!! hopefully the campy one i'm working on turns out better #even though silver is completely absent from tune's perspective for a majority of it gdfgjkdflk #sonic oc

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imaginedisish · 4 months ago

Text

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts

It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life.

The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.

You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind.

“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway.

He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”

You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”

“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you’re lying.

You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”

“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”

His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down.

“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle.

Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”

Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.”

The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.

“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh.

You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back.

Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway.

Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—

“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs.

“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance.

Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering.

“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”

You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself.

He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you.

“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin.

Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—

“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”

“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it.

“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.”

Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.”

Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something.

“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile.

He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell.

“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall.

“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies.

You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest.

He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”

Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!”

Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.

God. You are so lovesick.

Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth.

You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine.

“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you.

“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist.

Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest.

You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.

“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.

“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him.

He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter.

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.

Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say.

“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes.

Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—”

Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.”

“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"

“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.”

Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.”

“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down.

You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum.

It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise.

Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks. You, you think.

“Me?” What?

“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours.

The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing.

Everything is him. Logan.

“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you.

His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him.

“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.

“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him.

He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.”

He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way.

He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other.

“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest.

He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower.

He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass.

Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes.

He's starving for you.

He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core.

His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.”

He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”

Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”

“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life.

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”

You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit.

“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely.

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement.

You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance.

He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”

“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”

And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt.

“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out.

Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again.

He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly.

He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you.

“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.”

You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good.

Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper.

You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”

“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you.

He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air.

Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.

“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence.

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but—”

It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”

Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.

#Logan Howlett x reader #Wolverine x reader #James Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine x reader smut #James Logan Howlett x reader smut #Logan Howlett smut #Wolverine smut #James Logan Howlett smut #Logan Howlett imagine #Wolverine imagine #James Logan Howlett imagine #Logan Howlett x you #Wolverine x you #James Logan Howlett x you #Logan Howlett x you smut #Wolverine x you smut #James Logan Howlett x you smut

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januaryembrs · 6 months ago

Note

hot chocolate!

(last one i promise)

reader & spencer who aren’t exactly enemies but they’re def not friends but reader always double checks if spencer’s fbi vest is secured correctly which in return makes spencer check her over as well and they’re always like ‘stop checking up on me and worry about your own safety’ and it just happens every single time and they swear up and down that they dislike eachother deeply (they need to make out)

BANE OF MY EXISTENCE | Spencer Reid x reader

description: Spencer hates you, and you hate him, until it comes to protecting each other in the field

length: 0.7k

His fingers wound through the back of your vest as you made a move to dart past him, trailing after Hotch as you loaded your glock.

You felt a yank at your neck, his obnoxiously long arms giving you a firm tug back with little to no effort, all but making you stumble backwards as he forced you to stop, and his fingers were at your hip, adjusting the strap before you could ask him just exactly what he was doing.

“Wha- Reid, let go, my vest is fine,” You snapped, huffing when he ignored you, in the interest of fixing your belt, his brow turned down into a frown.

“Don’t come crying to me when you get shot in abdomen and suddenly you’re bleeding out, and you lay there and thinking, dang if only the smart FBI would have told me to adjust my kevlar, and I’ll be right there to point and laugh and say I told you so,” He huffed, his fingers making light work of the fiddly strap, tightening it until he couldn’t see a single inch of your shirt to the point he heard your breathing constrict, but he thought he’d rather you be a little uncomfortable than shot.

“I mean, if I’m laying bleeding out I won’t really have much to say other than, Reid, get medical, I think they hit something serious, please don’t come to my funeral, you were insufferable enough when I was living,” You said, allowing your body to be tugged back as he started on the other side, because there was no use fighting it when he got in those moods when he always needed to be right.

He paused, his brain catching up to your words and he drew in a silent breath, wondering if the other side of your jacket needed tightening even more, or better yet, if there was any way Hotch would make you stay in the car as back up.

Spencer yanked the strap with a vendetta, ignoring the way you whined it was too tight, and his lips pursed together.

“Would you relax, I was clearly kidding,” You said, thinking his mood had come from your teasing, because you seemed to know exactly what to say to push every one of his buttons, “What I would probably be thinking however is if you’ll be able to flag down a medic with your shoelaces untied,”

His gaze snapped to his converse, and sure enough the double knot he relied on seemed to have failed him, and his strings were hazard material as they dragged along the pavement, already mucky where they’d probably been undone for hours.

“Make sure you do them before we move in, I’m not carrying your bone head out of there if we start taking hits and you trip over your own feet,” You snipped, and he finally released you, immediately leaning down to fix his own issues, completely missing the way your eyes trailed down to make sure he did the loops tight enough because you were being serious when you said it would loathe you to be the one to carry him away from the danger, though probably not in the way he thought.

He huffed, standing back to his full height and giving his feet a wiggle in their shoes to make sure they were comfortable, and he looked back at you where you were watching him carefully, catching the split second where something close to worry pooled in your eyes.

It snapped back into your usual cold demeanour when you realised he was looking straight at you, and you whirled you keep your back to him, inspecting your loaded gun some more as a way to busy yourself.

“Try not to miss, it doesn’t look good on the reports when I have to save your ass twice,” Spencer snarked, and he practically heard the scoff before you even gave it.

“That was one time, Reid, and it was only cause I couldn’t see past your stupid fluffy hair. You’re a cop, Reid, not a poodle, you don't need that much volume,” You snapped back, the two of you squabbling the entire walk to the building, until Hotch separated you for the sake of his growing headache.

He just wished you two would talk things out before he seriously considered Emily’s proposition of locking you in the broom closet together.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader

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mooooonnnzz · 4 months ago

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I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol

You Know I Love You Still

Stanford x daughter!reader

💗 stanford dad hc!!

💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense

💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)

💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!

💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan

💗 a big happy family 😭

💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader

💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!

💗2k words

💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance

Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!

The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.

“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.

“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.

Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.

“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”

He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.

“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.

The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.

Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.

The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.

“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”

The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.

Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.

After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.

His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.

You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.

A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.

He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.

“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.

HEADCANON TIME!!

• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, ��Is there room for one more?”

• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.

• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.

• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!

• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”

• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.

• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.

• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.

• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”

• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”

#stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x daughter #stanford pines x child #stanford pines #stanford pines x daughter! reader #stanford pines x child! reader #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x daughter! reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #dipper pines x sibling!reader #mable pines x sibling!reader #dipper pines x reader #mable pines x reader

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beanghostprincess · 9 months ago

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... I was writing all of this on the tags but I realized it was getting a tiny bit too long so:

I've always liked the idea of Sanuso being established when WCI happens because. Angst. Like. Sanji actively breaking up with Usopp. Sanji's ass is not leaving to get married without AT LEAST breaking up with Usopp first so idk there's a little note for him or something like that. You can imagine how it goes. The letter has tears and everything and shaky messy handwriting. It's a whole mess. So Usopp HAS to go save his boyfriend.

And honestly. Like. Sanji has tried breaking up with Usopp before. Shit doesn't work. Self-sabotaging the relationship is something he can try but never succeeds at. Because Usopp always goes back to him somehow like I am 100% sure Usopp is used to this but-- This time is REAL like wtfffvjdf. Going a bit insane. Literally. The way you draw their facial expressions makes me want to throw up. In like. A good way. Great way.

So Luffy's speech still happens obviously but like. BEFORE that when Luffy's really messed up and Usopp's holding him and Nami is SOBBING. Usopp has this moment of (and this is the thing I needed to write in here bc the tags weren't enough to capture the energy I wanted it to have):

"The only reason you're pushing us away is to keep us safe, but do you really think we'd be better off without you?! I don't even know what I would've done if you hadn't been there for me when I needed it the most! I probably wouldn't even be here right now! You say i shouldn't run away but you're the one acting like a coward right now! You're running away because you don't want to hurt us but we're all getting hurt because you're letting fear win instead of fighting back the way you always tell me to do! And believe me! I know about fear! You said you'd do what I can't and I'd do what you can't! Was that a lie too?! And don't say it was because I know a liar when I see one and you've always been awful at that! You might try to fool yourself but you could never make us see you this way! You're not letting me carry your burden because you also insist on carrying everyone else's, but that's the most cowardly move of all! And I'm supposed to be the coward out of the two, Sanji! If you really think my heart could replace you then you're dumber than I thought! Maybe you can get married to somebody else but I will not give you up only for a few stupid lies you can't even believe yourself! I don't know who that Vinsmoke Sanji is but he is not the Sanji I love! And you might not believe a word I say right now but I do! I do love you! And don't give a damn if you push us away because we will keep pulling you back with us! I've always been brave for you, so now you need to be brave for me!"

Or something like that, okay? I didn't think this through and it's just a quick thing and it's like 1 am and I gotta go to sleep soon-- But this sounds kind of like something he could say--

Had this in my drafts for a monthhh

lookit my belovds.....

Auauauau goes feral i would die for them

#USOPP SHOULD HAVE BEEN AT WCI I AM SO MAD I AM SO ANGRY #orion you get me if nobody got me i know orion got me #when in my fics i say sanji makes heart eyes i hope you all know i mean THOSE heart eyes. sanji's pupils literally turn into hearts #OKAY BUT USOPP'S OUTFIT???????? SIR?????? GOOD SIR PLEASE OH LORD????????? going fucking insane here #'had this in my drafts for a month' why would u hide this from me bestie i am literally vibrating in my fucking seat right now why would yo #i wish i could tattoo this inside my damn eyelids but i sadly can't but i wish i could #ALSO I JUST REALIZED SANJI'S BROKEN HEARTS IN HIS HAIR SHUT UP SHUT UP I CAN'T DO THIS #i started writing the speech here and then i realized it was too much for the tags lmfao #absolutely loving usopp carrying sanji like a princess as he should #also-- sanji coming back to them when they're making the whole plan and nami still being angry but usopp being oh so happy to have him back #i mean i guess usopp would def get angry too but how long does that even last lmfao he wants his bf back and he is suffering so much #ALSO CAN WE PLEASE FUCKING GET USOPP ABOUT TO FIGHT JUDGE LIKE I VISCERALY NEED NAMI HAVING TO HOLD HIM BACK #i need somebody holding usopp back from killing that man and then settling for idk just punching niji or something #okay but seriously this art changed my life's perspective orion ilysm idk what sanuso nation would do without you fr fr #the way usopp is holding sanji-- sanji trying to push him away but OBVIOUSLY wanting him close #i am 100% sure usopp won't stop telling him that he loves him and sanji is having a whole breakdown over it #i hope you know if i could i'd buy every little sanuso art you've made and hang them in my room and and and stare at them all day #i will shut up now god i apologize hahahaha <- a not insane and super mentally well person #one piece #sanuso #black leg sanji #usopp #whole cake island

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hyunjiisa · 3 days ago

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hey pretty boy !

skz ! members and what type of loner they’d be

incl. ot8 !

chan as the stoner! loner

shows up to school smelling like weed but no one cares because he does all his work and never causes trouble

you make eye contact with him for the first time in the parking lot while he’s smoking, he falls in love when you smile and wave

turns down everyone that hits on him after that

when he finally musters up the courage to talk to you all he can do is tap your shoulder in the same parking lot he first saw you and ask if you smoke

no matter your answer, he asks to get to know you better

“ come on , give me a chance ? ”

follows you around like a bodyguard after that

never ever lets you carry your own bag and always makes sure you have something to eat for lunch whether he has to pay for you or not

pretty smart in most subjects so you have study dates often because he just likes your presence

won’t smoke around you if you don’t like it

never posts anything besides you and aesthetic pictures he takes

isn’t the type to fight but he will if someone disrespects you, but they back off because of his size before it gets to that point

hyunjin as the artsy! loner

has one black pen and one red pen that he abuses every day

pays attention for the most part but occasionally gets distracted doodling in his notebooks

def has drawings all over his hands

the first time he noticed you was in art class and he thought you were so pretty he started drawing you

you glance over and he’s mortified when he realizes he probably looks like a creep

too nervous to go up to you and explain so he leaves you a note with little drawings all over (plus the drawing of you) and a replacement of the pink gel pen he notices you using all the time

gets super nervous when he sees you walking up to him the next day

you ask him to partner up for a project and thank him for the drawing

“ i couldn’t help it , you’re just so pretty . ”

ends up kissing you at your last project session

asks you out with the most thoughtful basket filled with things you like and a letter with another drawing of you and almost cries when you don’t answer right away

does everything for you after you get together

the art teacher is yalls biggest fan

has no one else to cling to so he’s all over you 24/7

gives nasty glares to men who simply look at you

felix as the fashion design! loner

like hyunjin, spends most of his time sketching out designs in his scrap book where he keeps all his miniature fabric samples in

sulks because there’s no fashion club for him to join

is initially drawn to you because of an outfit you wore that he loves

eventually asks where you got your top when you wear it again and his heartstrings pull at the way you answer so sweetly and compliment his hair

after that the two of you gradually got closer and closer

you help him learn to sew and he starts planning marriage then and there (he wants to help design your wedding dress)

sews matching patches on your backpacks

you catch him texting his best friend that lives abroad about you

gets so nervous he cries

you tell him you feel the same way and he cries even harder

“ be mine ? please ? ”

just gets even clingier once you end up together

loves kissing you and laying together while he sketches

takes you out whenever you want and spoils you rotten because he has rich parents

matching outfits = fire insta pics

jeongin as the sour patch! loner

never talks to anyone so everyone thinks he’s mean but he’s really an angel

your elective teacher makes your class do a secret santa and he gets you

he gives you oddly specific gifts (he has a massive crush on you and overhears you telling your friends your wishlist) and includes a note sweet talking you

you go up to him and thank him with a kiss on the cheek and he turns red

he asks you to hang out and pays for brunch and the cutest pottery painting date

“ will you go out with me ? n-not like that ! ”

gets the teacher to move you two to sit next to each other

everyone’s a little surprised when they see how he’s so gentle with you

decides he needs to get over himself and ask you out and gets you a pandora charm bracelet and a pretty bouquet of flowers

pampers you with your favorite snacks or meals randomly, refills of makeup you use, randomly does your homework for you

flips off ur exes and flexes on them when you aren’t looking then turns around to kiss you

is at your house 24/7 because he can’t breathe without you but is supportive when you go out with your friends or need a solo day

loves going to the beach with you and carrying you so your feet don’t get sandy

jisung as the nerdy! loner

has good grades and the teachers remember his name because his work is always on time

eats alone in the library because he has no one to sit with

you walk in on him while picking up a book you need and he’s super embarrassed (he’s had a crush on you since middle school)

you ask to sit with him because you think he’s cute and he trips over his words answering you

you spend lunch with him every day after that and he starts packing a lunch for you too

accidentally confesses he has a fat crush on you when you ask if he has a girlfriend

he starts rambling after and shuts up when he notices you’re giggling at him

you kiss him and he swears his lifelong dream has come true

“ i like , really like you . ”

is the sweetest boyfriend ever

does all your homework for you and insists it’s really no problem

drives you to and from school every day because “that’s what boyfriends are for”

never looks at anyone but you and writes down threats and shoves them in guys lockers when they hit on you

minho as the gym! loner

purposefully gets his free period after his weightlifting class so he can spend two periods working out

isn’t really shy, just doesn’t like anyone enough to have friends

girls check him out occasionally but he always ignores them

catches you freaking out when you have no clothes to change in and offers you his shirt because he thinks you’re cute

uses that as an excuse to mess with you

“ if i can bench you , you owe me a date ”

spoiler, he can.

makes sure to tell you you don’t really owe him anything and he’s just messing with you

you agree to the date and he picks you up and takes you on a surprisingly thoughtful date

drive around town, food and watching the sunset, takes your pictures next to pretty flowers and keeps his arm around you the whole time

asks you if you really have to go when he’s dropping you off

walks you to your door and gives you a hug (he’s never dated anyone and too scared to kiss you)

texts you that he had a really good time and he would “work to make you his”

it doesn’t take much work and he kisses you right after he asks you to be his

is way too proud of his build and wears sleeveless shirts just to scare anyone that looks at you

carries you around any chance he gets

seungmin as the music lover! loner

walks around with his headphones in 24/7

hums to himself quietly while he studies

you ask him about a song he was humming and he’s surprised you were talking to him

you think he hates you till he smiles at you when you walk into class

makes you a playlist to make his move on you

doesn’t know how to tell you he likes you at all so he just kinda teases you to flirt with you

takes you to a record store at lunch because he wanted to show you the spot

stares at you a little too hard so you ask him if he wants a kiss as a joke

says yes and moves your hair out of your face, you guys have a make out sesh and only stop when the owner clears his throat awkwardly at the both of you

“ so , if i ask you to be mine what are the chances of you saying yes ? ”

you make him go back inside alone and buy you the vinyl you want

he comes back out with it and 5 more that you didn’t wanna ask for but knows you wanted anyway

you skip the rest of the day and go to his house and use his record player

you fall asleep on him and he takes 0.5s of you

shares his headphones with you, but doesn’t share his food (until you make a sad face at him and he gives in instantly. works every time.)

changbin as the sweetheart! loner

all of his professors adore him, all the school staff does at this point

has the maximum hours of community service that he can have but won’t stop helping around where he can

notices you from the start because he thinks you’re pretty, but really starts liking you when he sees you volunteer at an elementary school

accidentally scares you coming up behind you when you’re hanging a banner

you guys start helping at the same places and make a tradition of hanging up banners together

after a while he figures he might as well just tell you how he feels, is elated when you hug him and tell him the feelings mutual

“ oh thank god . ”

confesses that he was actually really nervous and gets flustered when you tease him about it because he thinks you’re the prettiest

when you ask why he never hangs out with anyone he says he doesn’t like people with unpure hearts and that’s why he loves you so much

definitely takes you out and buys you guys matching stuff

married couple

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

a/n: i’m not pushing any of these narratives onto them, it’s just dif scenarios i wanted to write them in ᡣ𐭩

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anniebeemine · 2 months ago

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spoiled- s.r. x fem!reader

warnings: Spencer spoiling his kids def comes back to bite him in the ass

Spencer wanted nothing but the best for his children. Since finding out he had one on the way, he spent weeks hunched over online articles, debating the best car seats, the safest family cars, and the most comfortable strollers. He read everything—from parenting blogs to consumer reports—until his eyes burned and his back ached from sitting for so long. No detail was too small. The color of the car seat, the weight of the stroller—everything mattered because this was his child.

As Melanie grew, so did his tendency to spoil her. He carried a mini fan around for her in the summer to make sure she was cool enough. In the winter, he always had a stash of hand warmers to stuff in her pockets. He didn’t care if people thought it was excessive; he’d do anything to keep her comfortable and happy.

But now, standing in the middle of the mall with his daughter screaming at the top of her lungs, Spencer realized some of that spoiling had been a mistake.

It had started innocently enough. Melanie needed a few long-sleeve shirts for school, and with the temperatures dropping, Spencer thought it would be a nice afternoon outing. They’d stopped in the store she loved, all girly pink and frills, the kind of place that lit up her eyes. He’d let her pick out earrings, scarves, and other trinkets he wasn’t sure she’d need, but the way her face lit up made it worth it.

Then, she saw the tiara. It was glittering under the store lights, solid gold with delicate rhinestones, sitting in a glass case as if it were meant for a real princess. Melanie’s eyes had widened, and she reached out for it like it was the most important thing in the world.

"No, Mel. Not today," Spencer had said gently, kneeling down to her level. "It’s too expensive, and you don’t need another tiara."

But she wasn’t having it. Her lip trembled, and before Spencer could even blink, she dropped to the floor, her light-up sneakers kicking out as she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Every head in the store turned toward them, eyes wide. Spencer’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to calm her down, but Melanie wasn’t listening. She was kicking, screaming, and pounding her fists against the floor.

“Melanie, stop it,” he said firmly, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck. Other parents passed by, some averting their eyes awkwardly while others gave him knowing, sympathetic looks.

Spencer picked her up, her little body thrashing in his arms as her cries echoed through the mall. He carried her to the parking lot, feeling every pair of eyes on him as he walked, his face flushed with embarrassment. When they reached the car, she fought him again, pushing his hands away when he tried to buckle her into the car seat. Her face was red, tear-streaked, and contorted with anger.

He sighed, stepping back and waiting. He couldn’t force her. He had to wait until she calmed down.

After what felt like an eternity, Melanie finally stopped thrashing, her sobs quieting down to soft hiccups. She allowed him to buckle her in, but as he drove home, she kicked at the back of the seat, whining and crying about how they hadn’t even gotten the pretzels they always got when they went to the mall.

By the time they got home, Spencer was exhausted. Melanie, far too old to be throwing tantrums like this, stomped into the house, her little fists balled up at her sides.

"Melanie," Spencer said, his voice stern, but not angry. He pulled her little pink chair from her tea set and placed it in the corner of the living room. "Sit here."

Her face dropped, and she looked at him with wide, apologetic eyes, as if she suddenly realized she had gone too far. Normally, he would’ve caved, let her go about her day with a warning or a talk. But not today. Today, he needed to set a boundary.

Melanie sat down slowly, her tiny toes barely touching the floor. She sniffled, her lip quivering, but she didn’t argue. Soft cries escaped her, and Spencer’s heart ached, but he stood firm.

You had heard it all from the other room. When you walked into the living room and saw Melanie sitting in the corner, her head bowed and her small shoulders shaking, you knew something had happened. But instead of going to her first, you went to find Spencer.

He was in your shared bedroom, sitting in the chair near the corner that was often inhabited by a pile of unfolded laundry. His head was in his hands, and his whole body looked tense, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You knelt in front of him, gently running your hands over his forearms until he looked at you.

“Shouldn’t you be talking to Melanie?” he asked, his voice quiet and tired.

You chuckled softly and smiled. “I came to talk to my husband, to find out what she did. And why he put himself in time-out.”

A small, exhausted laugh escaped Spencer, and he shook his head, sitting back in the chair. “She threw the biggest tantrum I’ve seen in years... over a tiara,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I tried to reason with her, but she just... lost it. I had to put her in the corner." His voice lowered. "I’ve never had to do that before.”

You squeezed his hand. “You did the right thing.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with guilt and frustration. “I don’t know... I feel like I’ve spoiled her so much that this is partly my fault. She’s never acted like that before.”

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “Parenting isn’t easy, and she’s growing up. But setting boundaries is important. You’re doing great, Spencer.”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little as he finally let go of some of the tension. “I just hate seeing her like that.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But she’ll be okay. And so will you.”

After a few minutes of quiet, Spencer stood up from the chair, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion but his mind clearer. He walked back into the living room, where Melanie still sat in the little pink chair, her face flushed and tear-streaked. Her legs swung idly as she sniffled, her fingers picking at the hem of her shirt. When she saw him coming, she straightened up slightly, her big eyes watching him closely.

He knelt down next to her, making sure they were at eye level. Spencer wasn’t one to raise his voice or discipline in anger, and he wanted her to know this was about more than just the tantrum. He needed to help her understand.

"Mel, do you know why I asked you to sit here?" he asked gently, his voice soft but steady.

She hesitated, her bottom lip wobbling. "Because... I was bad," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Spencer shook his head slowly, reaching out to take one of her tiny hands in his. "No, you weren’t bad. But the way you acted at the mall—screaming and kicking like that—it wasn’t okay. It’s not how we handle things when we don’t get what we want."

Melanie looked down at her shoes, her face flushed with embarrassment. "But I really wanted the tiara," she muttered, a little tremble in her voice.

"I know you did," Spencer said, squeezing her hand gently. "And it’s okay to want things. But sometimes, we can’t always have everything we want, especially if it’s something that’s too expensive or something we don’t need right now. I told you no, not because I didn’t want you to be happy, but because I thought it was the best decision. That doesn’t mean you throw a tantrum when you don’t get your way. We can talk about it, but you have to stay calm."

Melanie sniffled again, her fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Spencer smiled softly and brushed a few strands of hair from her face. "I know you are. And I’m not mad at you, okay? I love you more than anything in this world. But I need you to understand that acting like that isn’t the right way to get what you want."

She nodded, her eyes watery as she looked up at him. "I understand," she whispered. "I won’t do it again."

Spencer nodded, feeling a bit of relief wash over him. "That’s all I ask," he said, pulling her into a gentle hug. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she was afraid he’d still be upset. He held her tightly, letting her know that everything was okay now.

When they finally pulled apart, Melanie glanced up at him with wide eyes. "Maybe... we can look at tiaras tomorrow?" she asked hesitantly, her voice small but hopeful.

Spencer chuckled softly, the tension in his chest finally easing. "Maybe," he said, smiling down at her. "We’ll see if we can find something more reasonable, okay?"

Melanie nodded eagerly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Then, with a seriousness far beyond her years, she patted his leg. "But you need some time to calm down first, Daddy," she said, her voice filled with that innocent wisdom only children possess.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and full of affection. "I think you might be right," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to her. "How about we both calm down together, maybe with some ice cream?"

Melanie grinned, taking his hand as she jumped up from her chair. "I like that idea."

As they walked toward the kitchen, you appeared in the doorway, watching the two of them with a soft smile. You’d been listening from the hallway, and the tenderness in their exchange made your heart swell. Spencer caught your eye and gave you a small, knowing smile. The storm had passed, and you knew that, together, you’d figure out the rest.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reidx reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #fanfic

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abcjxyzyeo · 9 months ago

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Mr Brightside.

summary; Ever since you joined the gaang, Zuko had kept his eye on you. Even tho he hasn't officially joined your team, he thought you were kind, sweet, and good looking. But unfortunately for him, his mind tormented him with thoughts of you and Sokka, assuming you two were a couple. When he finally joined, he tried to make a move but yet it only confirmed his fears. Until...

Pairing; Zuko x afab!Reader(romantic) , Sokka x afab!Reader(platonic)

AN; !!!!! first post !!!!! Kinda nervy writing this cuz it's my first time writing something but I been on my avatar shiiii so yk I gotta do what I gotta do !! Anyways yea this is like kinda sorta based on Mr. Brightside by The Killers but it's also like not ?? And again it's my first time writing so the plot and dialogue and everything abt it is def messy and possibly rushed but pshh enjoy !! And also not to be a lil spoiler but ofc Zuko and y/n get together in the end 😘😘😘

Warning; Angst(???), F!reader(mentioned !!), sex and sexual implications(???) idfk 😭😭😭

Zuko paced back and forth, unsure what to do. You were the only thing on his mind, it bothered him and he had to do something about it. But yet ever since that day when you two first met, Zuko couldn't let go of the fact you were probably Sokka's girl. But he couldn't let go of your kindness, you sat and cried next to his uncle that had just been struck with lightning. But obviously, his emotions getting the better of him, he shot fire at you and Katara. He watched as Sokka grabbed your hand and waist pulling you up and running away. But eventually when he had gathered all his courage(which took a while) and his strength he walked up to you.

Comin' out of my cage and I been doin' just fine Gotta, gotta be down because I want it all

"Hey y/n." he grimly uttered

"Zuko! Hey! Why so down? Did someone die?" you chuckled to yourself

"Uh n-no. I was just wond-"

Just when he was about to admit his feelings, here came the killer of all his courage. Strutting with intensifying ego. Sokka. With widened eyes, Zuko stared as Sokka scooped you up and twirled you around. Wrapping your beautiful arms around his neck and burying your head with them. Zuko looked down and saw his hands firmly carry you while holding your ass. A twinge of pain and jealousy struck his intestines hard and fierce.

"What's on your mind?" You said with immense joy in your voice, but yet not looking Zuko in the eyes. Your attention now only focused on Sokka staring into his dazzling eyes.

"Uh, can I talk to you.. alone." Staring dejectedly at Sokka, and he simply shrugs, setting y/n down and walking away.

Zuko can tell you are obviously annoyed, and it worries him. Maybe he isn't wrong and you and Sokka are a thing, his palms start to become slick with sweat and he lets out an exasperated sigh with a low flame following.

It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

You watch as Zuko walks intensely closer, invading all your personal space. It wasn't a problem with you but it was definitely confusing. Zuko opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Letting out a groan of frustration, he made a quick fast move. Grabbing the back of your neck and the small of your back, pulling you in and landing his lips on yours. At first for one mere second you found yourself kissing him back for a second, but when you came to your senses you pushed him off. Zuko falling flat on his butt and looking up at you with hurt in his eyes.

"Zuko what the hell?" You yell trying to shake off the weird feeling in your gut

"Y/n I'm sorry!" He tries to yell while you turn and run towards Sokka, great, you just kissed some guys girlfriend, he thought. "Ugh, I can't believe how stupid I am!" pitiful tears welled up in his eyes before he violently wiped them before they could even think of spilling out of his delicate eyes, god that was embarrassing. He got up and threw himself in his tent to try and take a nap to even forget what he did.

Now I'm fallin' asleep and she's callin' a cab While he's havin' a smoke and she's takin' a drag Now they're goin' to bed and my stomach is sick And it's all in my head

Zuko throws the sheets off of him, sitting up in a cold sweat. He wipes the sweat off the back of his neck.

"Shit," he utters

He kept having weird dreams about you and Sokka, as if he was looking right at you two, having to watch a repeating nightmare of the girl of his dreams get taken by another guy. He lays his head back down and closes his eyes. Clutching his stomach that's tied in all forms of tight painful knots making his throat slick with spit. Maybe if he just thought of anything else he would have some form of nice sleep.

But she's touchin' his chest now He takes off her dress now Let me go And I just can't look, it's killin' me And takin' control

Zuko was having yet another horrid nightmare, but it felt all too real. He had left his tent and made his way to yours to apologize for stepping over lines. Weird noises, smells, and heats emitted from your tent though. He grabbed the curtain and pulled it up, horrified at the scene in front of him. A topless Sokka laid over you on the ground, he was carefully stripping you of all your clothes. You looking over and making straight eye contact with Zuko as Sokka slides himself in.

Zuko shoots his upper body up covering his eyes and yelling. Softly opening up his eyes he realizes it was all a bad dream. But oh God what if that's actually happening? He wipes the sweat off his forehead and swiftly got up and out of his tent in one motion.

Jealousy, turnin' saints into the sea Swimmin' through sick lullabies Chokin' on your alibis

Zukos eyes landed on Sokka watching you practice your earth bending. He slipped down into a spot next to Sokka and blissfully watched a girl he can never have. He looked at Sokka through his peripheral vision, that very familiar pinch of jealousy hitting close to home.

"You're a lucky guy," he uttered

That caught Sokka by surprise and he laughed

"What?"

"Y/n, look how talented she is! And she's kind and pretty, and she's yours."

This caused Sokka to laugh even harder

"Lighten up Zuko! Y/n isn't my girlfriend, she's just a close friend of mine being Suki's sister and all. I see Suki a lot in Y/n and according to Azula with Suki in prison it's nice to still have a piece of her somewhere."

But it's just the price I pay Destiny is callin' me

This caused Zukos eyes to widen fiercely. Everything he had worried about simply drifted away, even if you had rejected him he still felt worlds better. A giant boulder sized relief fell of his shoulders.

Y/n saw Zuko and Sokka sitting together and waved to both the boys with a happy smile, walking up to them and nodding Sokka off. Leaving the earth bender and the fire bender alone. Before you could say anything Zuko shot up from the floor.

"Y/n I'm so sorry, I never meant to overstep any boundaries I just thought-"

He was cut off by the feeling of lips on his own

"You talk too much," you giggled "I'm sorry for brushing you off earlier I was just caught by surprise and I was nervous. But I do like you Zuko."

Zuko smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into yet another kiss.

"I like you too."

Open up my eager eyes 'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

#zuko #prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko x reader #sokka #atla sokka #sokka/zuko

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kiwi-bitchez · 2 years ago

Text

Like Magic

Eddie Munson x Reader, 18+ mdni

Summary: Incredibly troupey enemies to lovers smut. The gang takes a trip together and a game of never-have-I-ever creates a new tension between you and Eddie. The classic "no one has ever made me come'' situation. A bit overused, but it still gets me every time. Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, drinking (all characters are 21+), kind of Asshole!Eddie but not really, fingering, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), Eddie has a dick piercing because I said so, piv sex, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl this is just fanfiction, Eddie has big dick energy in this one, I said what I said, rough-ish sex but Eddie's def more of a soft dom here, a few pet names (princess, mostly), spelling/grammar mistakes, corny ending

Word count: 14k (oof… got a little carried away with this one besties)

Steve said it would be a getaway. A trip dedicated equal parts to celebrating Nancy's first big article getting published and to cheer Steve up after having been dumped by his most recent situationship. The former was the initial reason to take the trip but after finding out about Jessica or Jamie or whatever her name was you had a feeling the latter was the true motivator. Either way, Steve had found a cheap cabin up by a lake and had pitched the trip as a fun way to "get in touch with wilderness." You had a feeling it was going to be more drinking and board games than hiking and fishing, but that was fine by you.

It was nice to put in for the time off from work and have something to look forward to. A week away with your friends. And Eddie. It's not that you didn't consider him a friend... well, you didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying on your end. You'd use the term friendly acquaintance. A person with whom you share several close friends but for some reason refuses to be friendly to you- that kind of friendly acquaintance. Okay, maybe the word friendly was a bit of a stretch.

There was an odd tension between the two of you that you couldn't quite figure out. When Robin had introduced you to her friends from high school, all staying very close over the years, you immediately hit it off with them, easily integrating yourself into their quirky dynamic. Even though Eddie sort of stuck out like a sore thumb among them, you never treated him any differently than you did Steve or Nancy. You liked that their group was so mismashed. You had made it a point to not to turn your nose up at him for any reason, expecting he typically got that reaction from those who didn't know him. At first you actually found him to be quite charming.

There was just a certain coldness he had towards you that you found off putting. Knowing what little you did about him, entirely through Robin's introductory ramblings, you could understand why he might be wary of new people. It was that you had put in an effort to get to know him and be friendly that had upset you when he didn't return the sentiment. Not only did he treat you with a certain dry curtness, but he seemed so warm and loving to everyone else. He'd ruffle Robin's hair, bear hug Steve, share a cigarette with Nancy when she was especially stressed and tell some long winded story that had her cracking up and forgetting why she was ever tense in the first place. You didn't expect immediate closeness, but a little bit of that warmth from him would have been nice.

The awkward tension between the two of you manifested as joking jabs that hit a little too close, sarcastic remarks and rolled eyes. If he was going to go out of his way to push your buttons, you had no problem doing the same. It never ruined the energy when you'd all hang out as a group, but it was an underlying feeling you could't ever seem to ignore, as much as you'd tried. So this trip was going to be a celebration for Nancy, a distraction for Steve, and a challenge for you.

The cabin really was a great find to credit Steve. You had all pitched in a little money to cover the expenses and were pleasantly surprised when you found out there were actually enough beds for all of you, a half decent kitchen, hot water, nothing special but certainly nothing to complain about either. You had access to a small dock and a beat up canoe, a little fire pit out back, the basic necessities for a half decent vacation. That, supplemented with the box of booze Steve had lugged up from the car and all of your excitement to let loose was sure to make for a good trip, if not at least a memorable one.

You had all scoped out the digs, poking around the shed outside and unloading all your stuff from the cars. You felt somewhat settled in and ready to slip into vacation mode right as the sun began to set. Steve and Nancy had taken care of bringing groceries for the week, unpacking a week's worth of dry pasta and snacks into the dusty pantry. Steve took it upon himself to cook a small meal for everyone in the kitchen, nothing fancy but still appreciated given the minimal kitchen setup, always the mom of the group. Eddie messily makes himself a rum and coke, offering Robin one as well and blatantly ignoring your presence. Not that you wanted a stupid rum and coke from him anyways. He hands her the drink and you avoid eye contact and push past him to fix a drink for yourself, quickly shuffling off to check if Steve needed any help in the kitchen.

"Too many cooks in the kitchen, y/n," Steve places his hands on your shoulders and backs you out of the small space, "go relax, I think I can handle boiling pasta by myself."

You were mostly trying to avoid the living room where Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were all settled, but Steve was right, the kitchen was far too small for you to be taking up space while he tries to cook for five. With a sigh you make the short journey over to the couch, wedging yourself next to Robin and quietly sipping on your drink, making a mental note to make the next one stronger. You easily fall into conversation, listening to Robin tell some story about when she and Steve used to work at an ice cream shop years ago, some exaggerated memory she kept referring to as "mint-chocolate-chip-gate," easily pulling laughs from all of you.

Hours later, empty plates scattered around the small makeshift dining area, a few more drinks in your system, you had hardly thought about Eddie at all. You'd managed to avoid his snippy remarks for the majority of the evening, both relishing in the good feeling of the start of a week off. It was always when you felt the tension slip away that it came back harsher than ever. The five of you crowded around the small table, playing cards shuffled into a messy deck. Robin had started a never-have-I-ever game, although childish, still fun and silly as none of you took things too seriously.

"Never have I ever," she searches her brain for something riveting, "faked an orgasm."

You and Nancy give her a fake-annoyed glance and take sips from your cups, not a huge surprise on anyone's part.

"Not fair Rob," you say, looking up from your cup, "just because you only have sex with women doesn't mean you have to target those of us unfortunate enough to be attracted to men." You and Nancy laugh.

"Sounds like the unfortunate ones are the guys you're sleeping with," Eddie mumbles. You shoot daggers from your eyes at him, "I'm just saying, how can you expect it to be any good if you're not being honest."

"Fuck off," you roll your eyes, "I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of more than one faked orgasm, Munson, it's kind of a universal truth for all women."

"Well I don't know if I'd say that-" Nancy interjects, "universal truth is kind of a big claim."

"Never have I ever," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to change the conversation, "accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into my coffee while on a first date and was too embarrassed to say anything so I just drank the salty coffee and suffered in silence."

"Oh my god," you burst out, everyone giggling, "that was such a pointed attack! I'm never telling you anything ever again!" You take a sip from your drink, being the only person in the group who has experienced that oddly specific situation.

"If you all are going to target me with the knowledge of friendship then I'm coming for all of your asses," you set down your drink and try to think of something that will surely get them to all drink, "Aha! I know, never have I ever had an orgasm during sex with a partner." Your mind was sort of still in the gutter from Robin's statement, and you knew for sure you'd get them all with this one, you knew that you were in a slim minority with that fact. It wasn't that you choose bad partners, well, that was sometimes part of it, but you just couldn't get to that place when someone else was doing it to you, only ever by yourself. You just figured it was a slight abnormality, and had resigned to a life of solo play and half decent but never truly fulfilling sexual encounters.

Steve groans, annoyed you brought the conversation back to the sexual topics he had previously steered the group away from, taking a drink alongside everyone else.

"Ha!" you gloat while everyone takes their long sips, "knew I'd get you all there. Keep trying to come for me with my oddly specific embarrassing stories and you'll all be sorry in the morning."

"I don't really think having a shit sex life is anything to brag about, y/n," Eddie snips at you.

"I'm not bragging, it's the whole point of the game to get people to drink, stupid," you shoot back, starting to regret revealing that level of personal information to him.

"Well maybe if you weren't so busy faking your orgasms you'd actually chill out for long enough to actually have one," he hurls back, the thick tension settling between the two of you.

"Jesus, Eddie, mind your own fucking business," you feel blood rushing to your face and your jaw tenses up.

"You were the one who brought it up, sweetheart," you hated how calm his voice still was, raising his hands up in fake defense, "never have I ever NOT made my partner come."

"Oh fuck off," your voice was seething, "you can't say that. There's, like, no definitive way to prove that's even true!"

"No, I'm pretty sure I know it's true," he was so fucking smug and it annoyed you to no end.

"OKAY," Steve breaks the awkward silence that had settled around the rest of the group, "I want to play cards, what do we think? Cards? Anyone?"

'Yeah, whatever,'' you felt bad if you had accidentally ruined the fun everyone was having, but it wasn't your fault Eddie decided to be such a dick about it. You help Steve shuffle the cards and start dealing, letting the heated energy dissipate around you as you wiggled your way back into normal conversation with everyone.

Several rounds of cards and a few drinks later the night took hold of the group and sent Nancy off to bed, Robin off to search for some advil that she knew she'd be grateful for in the morning, and Steve mostly asleep slumped in his chair at the table. You gently shook him awake and he grumbled a thank you and a goodnight as he dragged his body down the hall to his bed. This left you and Eddie with a half decent mess between the drinks, the aftermath of dinner, and the cards. He had started to gather the cards back into their deck while you debated on taking care of the dishes or putting it off until morning, ultimately deciding that tomorrow-you would be very thankful if tonight-you sucked it up and just cleaned up now.

"I got the rest," you start picking up everyones mostly empty cups and moving into the kitchen to tackle the mountain of dishes. Jeez Steve, how many pots does it take to boil pasta for five people? "Night, see you tomorrow," you say without turning back to look at Eddie.

He came up next to you and grabbed the dry towel off the counter, taking the soapy cup from your hand and wiping it away before stacking it on a clear part of the countertop.

"You wash, I'll dry, yeah?" he's already moved onto the next plate you had sponged down.

"It's really fine Eddie, I've got it," you appreciate the sentiment, but didn't like feeling so cramped standing with him in the small kitchen.

"I have manners, you know," he makes a harsh gesture to the dishes, urging you to get on with washing, which you do, "plus I'm not gonna let you take all the credit for cleaning up after everyone, you aren't anyone's mother or maid here."

You weren't really sure how to take that, but decided to ignore it as you continued to scrub away, silently handing him the dripping dishes as you finished cleaning them.

"I know you don't really care for me," you start, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between you, "but can we please not make Steve and them regret inviting us both? Like, I know you're capable of being civil. I just really don't want to spend this whole trip walking on eggshells worrying that we're ruining the fun. So, this is me apologizing for anything I do this upcoming week that pisses you off for whatever reason, just know I didn't do it on purpose, and it's not worth freaking out over. I'm just trying to have a good time here, that's all."

You really couldn't tell if you felt relieved or more anxious after saying all that to him. You meant it. You really didn't want to drag any unnecessarily tense baggage around with you while everyone was just trying to enjoy their trip. You wanted him to know this, at least to feel like the blame was off your back if he was a dick to you, at least you tried to clear the air on night one.

"What? Still got your panties in a bunch over that game?" you didn't have to look over at him to hear the smirk in his voice, "Because I remember you were the one getting all in a huff about it."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," you turn over sharply to look at him, "please just stop being such an asshole to me."

"Learn to take a joke, sweetheart," he had been drying the same mug for a little too long now, "that stick up your ass is probably the reason you can't reach the big O."

"Please, for the love of god, fuck off," you tried to not raise your voice too much given everyone's sleeping state, "What do you want me to say? Hmmm? 'Oh Eddie, I'm so jealous of all those girls you make come with your magical guitar fingers, oooooooooh, please pick me'." You roll your eyes and prepare to storm off to bed when his whole posture shifts in front of you.

"Magical guitar fingers? Hmmm?" he's really making you regret saying that, even sarcastically, you start putting the rags away, wanting to just finish up the dishes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. "You said it babe, not me."

"You're so insufferable," you bring your fingers to your temple, Eddie Muson manifesting as a special form of personal headache.

"This is exactly what I'm saying," he mockingly gestures to you, "you're the one always getting so worked up over nothing, I'm as cool as a cucumber, I think the problem might be you."

"Is everything a fucking joke to you? Can you really not be serious for three fucking seconds while I try to be straight with you about us getting along on this trip?" Your grip on the dish towel tightening.

"Me? Joking? About something so serious and romantic as having precious y/n her first orgasm with my 'magical guitar fingers' that she so obviously fantasizes about? I would never." He clasps his hands across his chest, always the fucking jester.

In a moment of white hot rage, and wanting to put him in his place, and only a tiny fraction fueled by your physical attraction to him, as much as you've tried to fight that off, you march the three steps in between the two of you and grab his wrist in your hand, holding his hand up in between the two of you.

'Fine, do it then," you maintain harsh eye contact with him, your faces only a few inches apart, "you won't. Better yet, I don't even think you could."

For the first time, you felt as if you had the upper hand, you had never rendered him speechless before. He always had some snippy comeback to everything you said, at a rapid fire pace that was honestly impressive given how subtly clever his remarks were.

"You wanna bet?" He cocks his head at you, trailing behind just a beat slower than he normally would.

You just raise your eyebrows and glance down at his hand, still in your grasp, lips pursed and voice secretly caught in your throat.

"You just say the word," he starts, voice slightly softening, "and I bet you that I can make you come using just this hand- scratch that, just these three fingers," he lowers his pointer and pinky, leaving his middle two and thumb sticking up, "in less than five minutes right here in this goddamn kitchen."

"Yeah, for what?" were you seriously considering this? Why were your thighs clenching together?

"I make you come, and not only do I get to live in your memory forever as the first idiot who had the sense to make you finish, but you're gonna be so sweet to me the rest of the trip. Make my drinks, fetch my lighter, roll all my joints with those cute little dexterous fingers of yours, be nothing but pleasant and lovely without the slightest hint of attitude." His words made you fume, but you were also inexplicably turned on, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke sending tingles down your spine.

"And when you can't, what then?" you tried to match his level of composure, but the gleam in his eye told you that he saw straight through your facade.

"If-" he starts, "you manage to hold out on me and I can't get that pretty pussy of yours to gush all over my super magical talented guitar fingers, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip. We never bring it up again, or you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives, totally up to you. But I'll be so civil and polite you'll hardly recognize me the rest of this trip."

You let your grasp fall from his wrist, holding your unsteady hand out to him to shake, "Deal."

He truly thought you were bluffing up until this point. When you had first met he had been impressed with how sharp you were, how you managed to meet his level of sarcasm so easily. At least he thought you had been sarcastic, after a few fumbled interactions he got the vibe that you weren't joking around with him in the jabby-playful way he was. If he was honest wit himself, he knew he sort of used this as a defense mechanism when meeting new people. Put up the walls and if they didn't like him, that was just fine.

The tension in the air was as thick as it had ever been between the two of you. You refused to break eye contact, refused to let him win. As much as you'd like to think this would be an easy way to put an end to his snarky attitude, there was no denying that a large part of you was excited, if not intrigued at the prospect of him touching you like that. Eddie was hot, you had never denied that. But the butterflies in your stomach and slight buckle of your knees indicated a little bit more than surface level attraction.

Breaking the handshake he takes a few purposeful steps forward, backing you against the nearest counter. He places a hand on either side of your body, caging you in, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear, voice low and raspy.

"We doing this, babe? You say the word and I'll let it go now, but otherwise I'm gonna need you to unbutton those cute jeans for me."

There was no way in hell you were turning back at this point. You try to give him your best 'fuck you' expression and say, "Can't even unbutton my pants, how the hell are you gonna make me come?" Regardless, you follow his request and unbutton your pants, and better yet, slip them down your legs to let them pool at your feet.

You were still locked in between his arms against the counter, closer than you had ever been to him. As your pants hit the floor, you notice his gaze flicker down to get a look at you, then quickly back up to your face. All the while he had shifted over slightly, arm now fiddling with a dial on the stovetop. He was setting a timer, cocky bastard. He adjusts the stovetop cook timer to five minutes and casually hits the enter button, as if he had nothing to prove, as if the few extra seconds meant nothing to him.

He brings his attention back to you, knowing you were fully aware of the timer he had just set. Rather than plunging his hand straight into your already dampening underwear, his first move was surprisingly to bend down slightly and cup the backside of your knee, lifting one foot out of the pant leg that was scrunched around your ankles. From the crook of your knee, his hand slowly moved up your thigh, giving it a squeeze, acting as if he wasn't on any sort of time constraint. As promised, once he reaches your underwear he only uses one of the three promised fingers, running the tip of his middle digit along the top elastic of your panties, quirking an eyebrow, looking at you for one last assurance of consent before the two of you crossed the line. You give him a curt nod, knowing what his questioning glance meant, and with that he dips his hand into your simple cotton underwear.

Once again, you almost expected him to just shove his fingers inside of you and get on with it, but he took several long moments to run his middle two fingers up and down your slit, never entering your hole, but collecting some of your wetness and dragging it up to massage the hood of your clit gently. You wouldn't have been surprised if the oven timer went off at any given moment. It felt like he had been touching you for far longer than five minutes, despite only forty seconds having been passed. He continued to gently roll your clit between his fingers, placing one on either side of your bud and just letting them slowly massage it back and forth.

You were slowly losing control of your composure. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction, but a shallow gasp that you were sure he noticed escaped you. You mentally prepared yourself for a comment from him, a chuckle or signature smirk. Eddie never shut the fuck up, you wouldn't have been surprised if that was true in the bedroom too, or in this case, the kitchen. What did surprise you was the breathy "Good girl, that's it" he mumbled into the side of your face as he increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, "just like that, relax for me, doing so well."

Fuck.

Your body responded to his words before your mind could make the conscious decision to, and you melted back into the countertop slightly with an exhale. His foot wedged in between your legs slowly slid them open a bit more, letting his ripped denim clad leg settle in between yours, his hand sinking a bit lower and slowly entering you with just his middle finger. The hand that wasn't occupied with your pussy gently came down to toy with the band of your still-on underwear, gently tugging them down as he managed to slip his second finger into you.

"That's it," he began to curl them ever so slightly, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him, "your pussy's so pretty, so good, sucking my fingers right in."

His two middle fingers were sunk all the way into you, and he was moving them in a way that had you involuntarily drop your jaw and let shallow whimpers out with every roll and thrust. This was entirely different than anything you had ever experienced before. Up until now, 'getting fingered' for you was an annoyingly uncomfortably forplay where your partner would shove a hand in and out too fast just to make sure you were wet enough to proceed with the act. Eddie wasn't even bringing his fingers out of you, he settled them in and wiggled them around until he noticed your breath catch, and just let them push into this spot that you didn't know you had. Your own fingers never could reach that deep and his were filling you perfectly, thumb toying with your clit, not too hard, but just enough to add to the sensation. Damn, he was good at this.

When his fingers finally hit that new spot inside you your body reacted with a subtle roll forward of your hips and your head fell back to rest against the cabinets, eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. "Mmm, there it is," his voice was still gentle against your ear as he continued to make you gasp and squirm, "anyone ever find this pretty little spot inside you before?" He let his fingers slide all the way out of you, spreading some wetness from your hole up to your clit with a few circular motions before sinking back down inside you.

You were biting the inside of your lip, no longer trying to hide your reactions from him, but trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake anyone in the cabin up. You wouldn't dare answer his questions out loud in your state, but you give him a quick shake of your head to indicate that, no, no one had ever touched you quite like this before.

"Such a fucking shame," he increased the pressure on your clit, not increasing speed at all, but just curling his fingers a little harder, swirling his thumb a bit more deliberately, "bet you'd make such gorgeous noises for me too, can't have anyone wake up and find us like this though, yeah? Those pretty little whimpers are for me only."

Why were his words doing more to you than his hands? Not that you had any complaints about the care and attention he was giving your center, but his face pressed so close to you, letting out sweeter words than you had ever heard from him, that was what was making your walls tighten around his two fingers. Your mind had completely slipped away from the timer, no longer questioning whether you had three seconds or three minutes left, all you could do was feel.

There was a soft squelching coming from where his hand made contact with your pussy, wetness coating his fingers and spreading to your thighs with each of his shallow thrusts. While you would typically feel a little embarassed, hearing your own arousal only turned you on more, that along with Eddie's soft "mmmm, that's it" and "good fucking girl."

You were starting to feel it, that familiar tightening. Familiar, but so different from when you got yourself there. It was the difference of jumping into water versus being pushed in. When you jump in yourself, you have time to build up the courage and the cold water is less of a surprise and more of an inevitability. This was as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder and could fling you in at any moment, entirely out of your control. You feel your head start to spin, your walls start to tighten.

Before you could let the tightening band in your lower half snap, any thought of purposely holding back and trying to not come for the sake of the bet was far gone, he takes his unoccupied hand and harshly tugs on your chin. Your head had started to roll back, pressing against the cabinets for support, eyes fluttering shut as you almost reached your peak. You were jolted back to reality as he cups your jaw and forces your head to stay upright.

"Eyes open," your impending orgasm teetering right on the edge, you would do anything he said in this moment, "you're going to keep your eyes open and look at me while I make you come." His words with a few more expert swipes of his thumb against your throbbing clit had you gasping for air. It was truly unlike any orgasm you had ever experienced.

You tried your best to follow his directions, keeping your eyes as open as you could, maintaining eye contact with him through your high as your mouth dropped open and your moans caught in your throat, silently shaking and thriving as the tension in your body eased out in waves of pleasure. His gaze burned into you, fingers keeping such a steady and consistent pace as you rode out your peak. Mumbled phrases escaped him and only made your orgasm last that much longer. Why the fuck was Eddie Munson calling you "pretty girl" making your legs shake? This shouldn't be happening. That had never been a turn on before, none the less coming from a man you typically found insufferable.

With the last pulse of your walls you found yourself acting on pure adrenaline, you completely blame the endorphins for your next action. His hand was still firmly planted on the side of your head and your thoughts were spinning so fast, you had to ground yourself, and your body decided that lurching forward and kissing Eddie was how you were going to do that. Fingers still slowly rolling inside of you, thumb now coming to rest on your overstimulated clit, he was taken aback by your action, but leaned into the kiss and swiped his wet tongue through your bitten swollen lips as you melted into him. As soon as you felt fully entangled in him, completely consumed by his hands, mouth, scraggly hair, all of him. You jerked back, quickly apologizing, "Fuck, uh, sorry, I-"

He slowly drags his hand out of your drenched thighs as you try to find words, bringing his two fingers up between his lips to suck them clean. You wanted to moan out at the sight but were still scrambling to figure out what the fuck just happened. He casually leans over and pauses the oven timer with a beep.

"Hey, 4:20, nice!" you roll your eyes at his immature comment, "we have forty more seconds on the clock, wanna go again?" he jokes.

You were so far beyond caring about this bet, you had way bigger issues to tackle than having to wait hand and foot on Eddie for the rest of this trip. You awkwardly pull up your wet panties and readjust your pants around your legs, not sure what to do or say.

"Was that good? Better than when you do it yourself?" he asks, sarcasm indetectable in his voice but you were sure it had to be there.

"Do you actually care to know or do you just want to hear me say it? Fine Eddie, you win. You have magical sex fingers and made me come in like three minutes, congratulations. It was great, the best orgasm of my life. You were right, you told me so."

"Well that's great to hear and all but I wasn't looking for an ego boost or anything, babe," his tone was lighthearted and you weren't expecting it, "I just know it's like wayyyy different for me when its my hand versus another person, not to mention the difference between all the holes and whatnot."

"Gross!" you laugh and scrunch up your nose, not noticing how he was pouring you a glass of water.

"I'm just saying!" He holds his hands up defensively as he silently hands the cup to you, "I've never experienced a female orgasm so I just wanted to know if it was any different than when you use the showerhead."

"Oh my god I-" you start, in between gulps of water.

"Oh, don't even start," he cuts you off, "we both know that all girls do that, don't try and be all shy with me now babe, I know what your 'oh' face looks like."

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and you bury your gaze down into your almost empty glass of water. "Yeah Eddie, it was different and it was better. Your fingers rank higher than the jet setting of my shower head, do you want a trophy?" This sort of banter usually had a sharper edge to it between you, but there was a new softness and humor to the way you communicated. Maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for you, because you were so desperate that you came from three fingers on a kitchen counter in less time than most top forty radio hits.

"I'm glad it was good for you," he says, almost sincerely, "night sweetheart." With that he turned around and exited the kitchen, keeping his composure all the way down the hall until he could burst into his room, rid himself of his clothes, and pull his cock at the thought of how you felt wrapped around his fingers, the little whimpers and noises you made, how you looked right at him as you came, how you kissed him afterwards.

You were left somewhat dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty cup in your hands, looking around as if something else was going to happen. You weren’t expecting him to invite you back to his bed for a cuddle or anything like that, but you had just experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life followed up by some joking conversation and a friendly cup of water? It just didn't feel right. Then again, who the fuck has their first orgasm from someone else while being timed.

You didn't regret it though. You actually felt a sense of relief. While you were pretty aware that your past sexual partners had been a bit selfish or underwhelming, a part of you had always wondered if that part of you was broken. If there was a part of your brain that would never let you reach that vulnerable state at the hands of someone else. That you would only ever trust yourself to let go and feel that kind of pleasure. Nope. Not broken. Definitely not broken.

You feel like you're in a trance as you walk back to your room, shower, slip into pajamas and drift off to sleep. You started to wonder how the energy would be between you and Eddie in the morning, but as soon as you gave it any thought your brain decided it was time to shut down. You'd deal with it when it happened.

Your head still felt cloudy the next morning, processing the sexual high and confusing social situation you now found yourself in. You knew one thing for sure, you'd never be able to look at Eddie again without thinking about last night. Suddenly the thought of him playing guitar, shuffling a deck of cards, smoking a joint, all felt inherently sexual to you despite never having that connotation before. You were fucked.

What's even worse is when you tried to rub one out in the shower to ease some of your nerves before going downstairs for coffee all you could think of was comparing how your hand felt to Eddie's. It's like he put a stupid curse on you, that all your orgasms would now feel half hearted. It's like you were hungry and were served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when you could smell a chef preparing a five star meal in the room over. Sure, a PB&J is fine, but now that you've had fine dining it just didn't quite cut it. On top of that your newly corrupted brain couldn't help but theorize about what else Eddie was capable of. He made you come in basically four minutes with three fingers. As soon as you let your mind wander you pull yourself out of it, make the shower as cold as your body can stand, and gear up to face the music, or at least put on an awkward front in front of all of your friends.

You were the first person in the kitchen, but you heard a fair amount of shuffling going on around the creaky cabin so you suspect your friends will be down soon. You take it upon yourself to put on a full pot of coffee and survey the pantry for breakfast options.

"Morning, y/n," Steve greets you passively, eyes clearly set on the coffee that's almost done brewing.

"Oh wow, did you do the dishes last night?" Nancy inquires, her and Robin taking their places at the table while everyone waits for the coffee to finish.

"Oh yeah, it was nothing. Eddie and I did it, only took like five minutes," you wince at yourself.

"Were the two of you up real late?" Steve questions, "I tried to get him up a minute ago but he was knocked out."

"Oh," you start, relying on pouring coffee to everyone as an excuse to not make any eye contact, "I'm not really sure, we were only really up for like ten, twenty minutes after you all went to bed. Maybe he stayed up late in his room." None of it was a lie.

"Whatever, let him sleep this beautiful day away," Steve's whole demeanor changed after a single sip of caffeine, "I say we go down to the dock and check out that canoe, maybe have lunch on the dock? Could be nice."

A murmur of agreement among the group settled the plans for the day, relaxing by the lake, doing exactly what you had intended this trip to be about. You all scarfed down quick breakfast and coffee and separated to change into swimwear. You hated that you thought of Eddie as you picked out your swimsuit. Did he even see you like that? When he called you pretty last night, was that all part of an act to win some stupid bet? You'd be better off assuming so, you decide, you don't want to get wrapped up in your own thoughts about how he thinks of you only to be totally wrong. But you secretly did hope that he'd check you out at least once.

You sprawled out on a big towel on the rickety dock, letting Robin, Nance, and Steve figure out the canoe. It didn't look like it could comfortably for more than two, and three was pushing it, so you decided to sit this one out considering the lake water looked a little murky. You set yourself up comfortably with a glass of lemonade and a book you were halfway through, letting the sun sink into your skin and illuminate the pages as you squinted at the words through the sunshine. You could hear their friendly bickering off in the distance, their canoe now a tiny speck off on the horizon of the lake. You could occasionally hear Robin shriek as Steve threatened to tip them all over.

You felt the dock creek behind you before he said anything, not bothering to turn around from your comfortable position, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Eddie. He made his way down to your towel, inviting himself to plop down next to you and dip his toes into the lake below. He was only in his boxers and a ratty tshirt, a mostly full cup of black coffee sloshing around in the mug he held.

He made you nervous, not sure what the energy would be like between the two of you now. You almost felt worried that nothing would have changed at all. You ignored the buzzing in your abdomen and kept your eyes on your book as he kicked up the lakewater and sipped his coffee next to you, seeming comfortable in your mutual silence.

“Reading anything good?” you knew he’d be the one to break the silence, ever the chatty Cathy. You were surprised at the genuine question rather than a smart remark or joke at your expense.

You told him what you thought of your current read, filling him in a bit on the general plot. Part of you decided that you no longer had the right to give him the edge you usually did. He had won the upper hand fair and square and you were willing to accept that. You could play nice, play by his rules.

You felt like your conversation was going well, or well enough. He asked to see your book, which you willfully handed over. You’d regret doing that. He dog-eared the page you were on and quickly set your book off to the back of the deck before moving at lightning speed and scooping you up and hurling you through the air and into the lake water. What the actual fuck was his problem.

Before you could even register the cold lake water you emerge from your splash and gasp for air. You don’t even have a moment to find where the dock is to cuss him out before you see his cannonballed form fly above you and crash into the lake next to you. His shirt and coffee were abandoned with your book and he emerged from the water with that stupid goofy smile.

That stupid goofy smile that made you less mad that he had thrown you in the lake. What was wrong with you? You should be pissed. Why did his annoying antics suddenly make you feel giggly? You knew exactly why, but wouldn't allow yourself to think about it for longer than a moment.

“Eddie you bitch!” you splash him as soon as you can locate him and that stupid smile. You couldn’t help but smile too. He knew you wouldn’t stay mad. The two of you play-wrestle for a moment, splashing each other and taking turns pushing the other under the lake’s surface.

“I was reading,” you continue to protest.

“And now you’re swimming!” He splashes you again, “We’re on a lake trip, y/n, not a library trip.”

You debated swimming out to where the canoe was, but mutually decided that sounded like too much work. Instead you took turns jumping off the dock and diving down to the bottom of the lake for rocks and other random junk. Eddie even found an old boat anchor.

Once the other three came in from their canoe adventure you all ate packed sandwiches for lunch in the sunshine on the dock. You couldn’t help but take in the moment, knowing you'd be nostalgic for it in the future. You were surrounded by some of your best friends without a care in the world, only focused on pb&j sandwiches and who was going to make the fire later.

After a backyard bonfire and several failed attempts at roasting hot dogs on sticks you all started to slow down and let the day in the sun take you to bed. You showered the feeling of lakewater off your skin and out of your hair with lots of soap and as hot of water as the cabin would allow. You thought you’d cozy up in bed and read some more of your book, or even crash right to sleep, but a nagging feeling kept pulling at you.

As sleepy as you wanted to be, and as interesting as your book was, your mind couldn’t pull itself away from the idea of what Eddie was doing down the hall. It was late enough that the others were probably asleep, you probably should be too. After rereading the same sentence four times you decided to abandon your book and just follow your curiosities.

Before your better judgment could stop you, you lightly knocked at Eddie’s door and cracked it open. You peek around the sturdy wooden door to see him propped up on the headboard, shirtless with a giant book in his lap. His lean chest and arms were littered with random tattoos, nothing you hadn't seen before swimming or when he wore those unbuttoned and ripped up shirts that he often did, but this time you couldn't help but stare at them.

“Sure just come right in,” he comments with a joking tone as you peek around the corner of his door.

“Sorry, sorry,” you half whisper through gritted teeth, “I just-”

You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You just what? Were curious about what he was doing? Wanted to see him? Wanted to know what he would say if you came to his room?

To your surprise he shifts to the side of his bed and opens a space next to him, lifting the sheet that covers his lower half and patting the space next to him. Your eyes widened in surprise a bit before you moved a bit too enthusiastically across the room and settled onto the mattress next to him.

“Hope I’m not bothering you,” you start, genuinely feeling bad if you were intruding.

“You? Not at all. I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings eighty times or so,” he turns over the enormous book in his lap.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could read,” you immediately felt bad, but knew your tone was joking enough to be permissible.

“Very funny,” he sets the book on his nightside table, turning his attention to you. You suddenly felt a spotlight on you, a sudden stage to explain the reason you showed up in his room. Truthfully you didn’t have one. Or, you didn’t have the words to tell him why.

“I-” you start, noticing how small your voice sounded, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Is that so?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, I just-” you still don’t know where you’re going with this, “I just wanted to apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t like you. I know we kind of go back and forth a lot, but I never really meant to make you feel like I dislike being around you. I just want to start over with you, if that’s okay?”

“Is this because you know all the rumors about my magic guitar fingers are true,” he smirked and leaned his head into yours, an action that would typically make your blood boil that you now found endearing.

“No- well yes- but no,” you couldn’t help but be flustered, finding yourself fidgeting with the hem of his sheet that you had tucked your feet under, knees pushed up against your chest, “I just thought that things were going to be really awkward between us today, or that you were going to be a huge asshole to me. But I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been fair to you, and maybe you weren’t fair to me either, so it would be nice to start over?”

“Do you want to start over right now, or do you want to start over, including last night?” He already knew that even if the two of you ‘started over’ neither of you could forget, or even pretend to forget what had transpired in the kitchen. You let out a sigh. You were thinking the same thing.

“Up to yout,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ll leave and never bring it up again, but I can't pretend like I haven’t been thinking about it since it happened.”

“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Shut up, you know it is,” you bump his shoulder with yours.

“Is it because you touched yourself and realized it didn’t feel the same?” his voice grew deeper, and you could feel his gaze pressing into the side of your face, “or because you imagined it was my fingers between those pretty legs of yours.”

You couldn’t help your head from falling back against his headboard and eyes to find solace in the ceiling before gathering the courage to answer him. His face was already inches from your neck, all you needed to do was close the gap, but a part of you was still worried.

You look tentatively into his eyes, big and brown and drawing you in, but you don't let yourself lean in all the way. You had initiated the first kiss between you two last night in the kitchen and had been shaken with worry that you had crossed a line. You didn't want to embarrass yourself again, so you held back. What if he thought that was too intimate? You hoped he didn't. Even though it had left you tense and anxious, kissing him was just as memorable as the orgasm he had given you. You remembered how his mouth tasted, how he slipped his tongue past your lips immediately, how you didn't have to think about anything other than how he was making you feel.

Eddie, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that he'd left you a bit high and dry last night. If he was being honest, he wanted to stay in that kitchen and kiss you over and over, offering to take you to bed, his bed. He left for two reasons: he wanted to maintain whatever aura of mystery and intrigue he had garnered by making you feel so good, the tensions were high and it felt right to keep the game up, Eddie enjoyed the cat and mouse, back and forth that the two of you had, and this had taken it to an incredibly fun and elevated state, and he had to leave to release his cock from the confines of his pants. If he was going to fuck you, he was going to fuck you right, and if you had stayed in that kitchen any longer he would have either busted in his pants or promptly three seconds after you made any sort of move on him.

He knew you were nervous. That you found him hard to read and unpredictable. That's probably why the two of you never really got along, and he knew it. He knew that the orgasm he gave you was the most pleasure you had ever felt, and that you hadn't stopped thinking about it for a moment since. It was written all over your face. He couldn't blame you. If he had never had the pleasure of climaxing during sex or at the hands of another person he surely would be in a spell over it too. He knew you needed to be taken care of, and that he had proved himself to be trustworthy of doing so.

While you were caught in your own head debating whether Eddie would kiss you or not, it only takes him a split second to crane his neck around to meet your face and catch your lips in a kiss backed by purpose and intent. He knew how to read your body language. Eddie grew up worrying what everyone around him was thinking of him, or what they were planning to do to him/ He knew how to tell when someone was angry or upset or disgusted. An arch of an eyebrow or a twitch of a hand could mean the smallest things, things that always came back to bite Eddie. He also could tell that your breath was caught in your throat and you were overthinking still, he knew to let the kiss linger for a moment and let you find your footing before deepening it.

The moment he feels your shoulders relax a bit and your head lean ever so slightly into his, he cups the sides of your neck with his hands. Those hands. Littered with tiny stick and poke tattoos and those clunky metal rings. Who the fuck wears jewelry to bed? You had taken note of how his rings had felt shoved down the front of your underwear the night prior, and now you relished in how the distinct metal felt against the soft skin under your jaw.

Last night you kissed him in the heat of the moment. Now he was kissing you. Really kissing you. Tugging on your bottom lip and running his tongue across yours until your stomach felt like you were on the dip of a roller coaster. Kissing you until you were breathless and your cheeks began to run hot, until you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, or could hardly remember where you were or what time it was. You would have traded every sexual experience you'd had for what he did to you in the kitchen last night, and you'd trade every kiss up until now for the one you found yourself in.

His hands were in your hair, and his lips moved from yours, now wet and pouty, down to your neck. He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked against your skin, gently tugging your hair in the direction he wanted to open your neck up for him. When his bottom teeth dragged across a particular spot in between your jaw and ear a soft moan escaped your lips. You immediately sucked in a sharp breath.

"MmmHmmm," he mumbles into you, still attacking that spot that had elicited the noise, "let me hear you."

You let out a groan and moved to straighten your neck, wanting his mouth on yours again. The hand in your hair kapt you exactly where he wanted though, now using a touch more force.

"You wanna know a secret?" the hand not in your hair ran up and down your rib cage underneath your shirt, trailing from the band of your pants up to the underside of your breast and then gently back down, "Do you know what you do to me?"

"Mmmm, no what?" you could hardly recognize your own voice, now pitched up and airy.

"Those pretty noises you made for me, and the thought of you wrapped around my fingers has been driving me crazy all day, y/n. Do you know what I thought about while I jerked off last night? Those moans, and that pretty cunt you have, and the gorgeous face you made when I got you there. It's all I can see when I look at you now. It made me come so fucking hard last night and it's gonna take a lot of time and illegal substances to make me forget it."

You wiggled your hips up into his touch, wanting him to move faster but knowing he was going to take everything at his pace whether you liked it or not. "Fuck Eddie," he sucked on your earlobe and continued to bite against your soft skin, "you think I'm pretty?" You sounded fucking pathetic, you wouldn't have caught yourself dead asking any boy that, let alone Eddie before tonight.

"Pretty? I think those little moans you make are pretty. And that cunt you have, prettiest I've ever seen. That little bikini you had on today, that was pretty too. You wear that for me?"

"Maybe," you gasp out as his hand dared to venture lower, still over your pajama pants but dipping up and down where he knew your wet slit was.

"Sure, lots of things about you are plenty pretty, but fuck," he loved how responsive you were, already rolling your hips against his hand despite the layers of fabric preventing you from getting what you really wanted, "You? you really are somethin' else."

He could tell you were tired of his teasing, so in between kisses he tugs your shirt up and lets you pull it over your head. He presses your warm skin against his, using all his strength to stay in the moment and feel how nice your tits feel squished up against him, rather than immediately ravish you. He'll get to that, he knows you deserve his patience.

“Just-” you gathered your thoughts, “tell me you want me too, that this isn’t some sort of power trip or pity fuck. I don’t want it if this is some game to you.”

His heart sank a bit at your inquiry, worried that you thought of last night as some sort of power trip for him, although that was what the two of you had framed it as, a power play. He knew there was something deeper and hoped you had felt that too.

“Of course I want you. As much as it was nice to put you in your place, you brat, I didn't make you come to prove anything. I made you come because I wanted to.”

“Will you do it again?” your voice was barely a wiper, your neck craning around to meet his intense gaze.

“Again with my fingers,” he shifted so you were now slumped beneath him, his leg slotting comfortably between yours and his hands coming to cup your cheeks, shoulders angled above yours and hair creating a perfect curtain around your faces, “and my tongue, and my cock,” he leaned down to kiss you, “and all the other ways you’ll let me show you.”

You were a mess. A puddle of arousal and swarming thoughts of nothing but Eddie. Your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his beautiful curls, massaging the nape of his strong neck. The most passionate and enthusiastic kiss you had ever participated in. You were on fire for him. Any former doubt or worry that the actions of last night had on you dissipated into the air along with the breathy moans you couldn’t help but let out in between kisses and touches.

His knee pushed your thighs apart and you willingly splayed yourself out like a ragdoll for him to move and manipulate under him however he pleased. Before you could focus on his hands dipping into your underwear, he bit at your lower lip and pulled back, causing you to crane your neck and chase after his lips as he moved away. You were about to pout about the loss of contact, but his fingers dipping through your wet folds were plenty distracting. He sits back a bit to focus on pulling down your pants and underwear while still stroking you with his opposite hand.

You were too busy squirming under him, both from his slow methodical fingers against your cunt and a half hearted attempt to kick off your garments that were now pushed around your knees to notice his unwavering gaze that raked over your newly exposed body. His resolve was about to break, along with the dam that held back his desire and excitement to feel every inch of you, to make you feel good, to be the first person to make you feel good. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but picking fights is a lot easier than trying to flirt so he settled for riling you up the only way he thought he could.

He swats backwards to assist you in removing your final articles of clothing which are caught on your ankles, and as he leans back forward into you he sinks two thick fingers into you with a smirk on his face. It was a sudden stretch, but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance. Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but you can't help but keep your sight locked on the shit eating grin that spreads across Eddie's face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He had made you fall apart in just over four minutes last night, and now he was going to take his time and have his fun with you. How could he not? You were so responsive to him, whimpering and writhing with every small movement, muscles tensing and your perfect lips parting open every time he curled his fingers upwards or brushed your clit with his palm.

He swoops down to give your tits some attention, and you let yourself tangle your fingers into his unruly curls. Between licks and nips he mumbles into your skin, "so fuckin' perfect" and "doing so good for me." He can feel your walls squeezing his fingers, soaking his palm, so he slows his roll a bit, wanting to draw you out a bit longer. You wanted to pull him up for a kiss, but he was deeply concentrating on sucking the perfect purple hickey to the underside of your breast. You could have sworn you heard "mine" come out of his mouth in between sucks and heavy breathing, but you couldn't be sure.

Once he released your skin with a wet pop, you tugged at his hair to beg for a kiss. Eddie liked you all whiney and desperate for him though, so he just lets you tug on his hair as hard a you want as he continues moving down your body, teeth dragging across your ribcage, his hot flat tongue licking a stripe across your hip bone just before blowing a stream of cool air across the new wet trail. All the while his fingers slowly rolled inside of you, making this delicious wiggling motion that had you feeling full and seeing stars.

He pulls his fingers out of you, taking a mental picture of how hot it was that your slick had soaked him down to his rings. Before you can sit up with any sort of protest, he cups his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushes forward to effectively fold you in half. Your head perks up, about to inform him that he is wildly overestimating your flexibility, he cuts you off.

"Just lay back," his hands run up and down from your inner knees down to your ass and back up, "lay back and let me make you feel good, you can do that for me, yeah?"

"Yeah okay," you breathe out as he places a tender kiss to the part of your thigh just under your bent knee, a part of you that had never had any sexual connotation before, and now the feeling of his lips were permanently seared into the skin there.

The last thing you caught sight of before your eyes rolled into the back of your head was Eddie spitting straight onto your pussy, not that it wasn't wet enough already, and immediately going in to lick a fat stripe up the middle of your center. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he repeated the action, his grip on the meat of your thighs tightening and leaving fingerprint sized indents. He attached his lips to your clit and rolled it against his tongue in a way that you had never experienced.

Sure, you'd been on the receiving end of head before, but not like this. It had always been a 'hey, I just need to make sure your pussy is wet enough for my dick' sort of situation and never a 'it would be my pleasure to die here in between your thighs' situation. The moans that escaped you were shaky and broken, unlike the noises coming from between your legs, a sinful combination of wet slurping and Eddie deeply moaning and humming approval into you as he ate you out.

Your legs began to shake, partially from your growing orgasm, and partly from this advanced yoga position Eddie had you in. He slid a hand down from the juncture of your leg to toy with the pooling wetness at your hole. You let your wobbly hand replace his holding your knee back for him, keeping you spread open and on display as he stuffed two fingers into you, continuing to suck on your clit.

"Ohmyfuckinggod," your words slurred together in a high pitched moan, "Eddie- Eddie, fuck." You were no longer in control of the noises coming out of your mouth, a barely coherent slew of Eddie's name, 'fuck's' and 'please.'

He groaned into your cunt, picking up the pace and curling his fingers into you just like he had the night before, this time with the added pleasure of his mouth devouring you. You were not long for this world.

'You're gonna make me come," you warned him, your voice sounding on the verge of a sob, "feels so fucking good, Eddie, please."

Your eyes screwed shut and legs fell from their pushed back position to clamp around his head as your orgasm took over you. Crashing waves of pleasure that were pulling you out like a riptide. All you can feel is the release, hardly noticing your shaking legs or broken moans. Eddie moves up to catch your lips in a deep, wet kiss, slowing his hand as you ride out the end of your orgasm, still quivering around him.

You were severely out of breath, but refused to break the kiss. His slick, swollen lips swallowed your moans and anchored you, bringing you back down to earth.

"Mmmmm," he hums into the kiss, "you need to quiet down, unless you're tryina get me in trouble," he whispers into your lips, dipping down for another soft kiss as you regain your composure.

"Fuck, sorry," you pant out.

"Don't apologize to me," he slowly pulls his hand from your center and you wince slightly, "if it were just the two of us in this cabin I'd insist you let those pretty moans out to your heart's content."

"I'll be quiet," you reach down to palm him through his low hanging pajama pants, "will you please fuck me? Need to feel your cock in me so badly Eddie, I know you're gonna make me feel so good again."

A feral groan rumbles in his chest, head tilting back towards the ceiling as you stroke what felt to be an incredibly well endowed cock.

"You sure you're up for it?" Now it was his turn to show the hint of neediness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" You question back, getting a better grip through the material of his pants.

"You know I wanna fuck you," he ruts into your hand ever so slightly, "but I need to hear you say it."

"I already did Eddie," you mumble into his neck, "Want your cock so bad, I want to make you feel good too."

He rolls over onto his back, and slips off his pants and boxers. You shift onto your knees next to him, unsure of what position he'd want you in. As his hard cock springs out of his elastic waistband and onto his stomach you lose control over your facial muscles and let your slack jaw hang open, eyes bulging slightly.

"Wh-" a look of concern on his face grows as he notices your expression, looking from you, down to his cock, then back to you, "Oh! The piercing?"

You were completely frozen, because the only thing more shocking than the two little metal balls sticking out of his cockhead was the fact that Eddie Munson had a pornstar dick. Thick, long, girthy, perfectly curved, the most glorious shade of blushed pink. No wonder he had decided to bedazzle it, it was gorgeous. Not only was it the largest and most aesthetically pleasing dick you'd ever seen, in real life or photos, you sure as hell had never had one that big inside you.

"Yeah, the piercing-" your voice trailed off, still gawking at it.

"Shit, I'm sorry if you're like, super freaked out," the worry in his voice snapped you out of your trance, "I guess I maybe should have warned you-"

"No no," you were quick to correct his concern, reaching down to wrap your hand, which hardly fit, around it and give a few experimental strokes, "it's fucking perfect." You were visibly salivating, wanting to feel how the metal balls felt against your hot tongue.

"I mean, it's okay I guess," you say, sitting up, "I wouldn't want to give you an ego or anything," joking sarcasm rolled off your tongue, "but fuck..." the way he twitched in your hand drew you back in, not thinking twice before leaning forward and letting your tongue run from the underside of his shaft up across the metal balls that decorated the head, all the way up to his leaking slit. Your tongue gathered his precum and went back to explore how the piercing felt against your lips, rolling it across your tongue, placing open mouthed kisses to the head.

"Shit-" he hisses out, Eddie knew his dick was fine, maybe a little bigger than average or something, but no one had ever stopped to admire it, compliment it. Then again, most of Eddie's sexual escapades were just that, escapades. Random girls in bar bathrooms, quickies in the back of his van, a few weed customers who he didn't mind exchanging a good quick fuck for a discount. Sure, he'd heard the 'oh you're so big' line mid thrust, but everyone said that about the person they're fucking, right?

After feeling his hips twitch a bit underneath you, you release his cock with a soft pop and climb on top of his torso. Grinding down on his hard length with a few slow forward rolls of your hips, you can't help but lurch forward and capture his lips in a kiss. You let out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock catch your clit as you drag your wet folds up and down his shaft. Your foreheads stay pressed together as your mouth opens in a silent gasp, his hands coming down to guide your hips and dig his fingertips into your ass.

"Fuck, princess," his voice was low and sexy, and the new nickname had you bucking your hips a little harder, "lay back and let me make you feel good again. This is all about me giving it to you right, yeah? So let me do all the work."

You know his intentions were sweet, but you kept his hips pinned under yours. "Eddie I-" you pull back a bit to meet his eyes, "you can fuck me however you want in a bit, but... I've never had anything that big inside me before and..."

"Shhhh," his hands ran up and down your sides, "we can take it slow, promise. You can sit on my cock and take it at your own pace, let it fill you up right, don't wanna hurt you."

With that you nudged his tip into your entrance ever so slightly, taking a moment to feel how his piercing dragged across your cunt and left a cool metal trail that sent a shiver down your spine. Once you slipped the head inside you, it really wasn't any different from an unpierced dick, other than the sheer girth of it. Your teeth caught your lower lip, sinking down to take the first two inches or so, letting your opening adjust to its size.

It was taking everything in Eddie's willpower not to thrust up into you, or grab your hips and roll them down onto his aching cock. But he knew better than that, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he stayed still, holding in a deep and shaky breath as you started to take him. Part of him wanted to look away from the gorgeous faces you were making, because if you were going to bat your eyelashes and tuck that perfect lip in between your teeth he was going to come a lot sooner than either of you would like. But he can't bring himself to do it, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost like when you were angry.

You were fully seated on his cock now, breathing slowly and leaning back to sit up straight on it, somehow pushing it even deeper into you.

"That's it," Eddie's hands still gripped at your hips, making sure you were steady on him, "that's my girl, taking me so well."

You experimentally shifted your weight front to back, rocking your hips shallowly against his. You felt Eddie move underneath you, reaching his hand from its place on your hip to your back. He adjusted his position, and pushed up against the headboard to sit upright, now holding your torso against his. He smoothed your hair across the back of your head.

"It's okay if you need a minute," he took your chin in his hands, clenching his jaw as you continued to rock your hips into his, "don't want you to hurt yourself.

"Just feel so fucking full," you whispered into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage, "need you to fuck me, fuck me deep and hard, please Eddie, need it."

He arches his hips up slightly to meet your hips as they come down, and your eyes practically spin into the back of your head. He takes it slow, his first few thrusts from under you are careful and gentile. You continue to mumble "please" and "more" into his lips, so he scoops you up from your back and flips you over, not removing his cock from deep within you as you settle down into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his hips and he pushes his dick all the way into you, reaching a new spot that knocks the wind out of you.

"Fuck just like that," your words are hardly there, "so fucking good, Eddie, Eddie..."

"Beautiful," he fucks into you a little harder, "your pussy was fucking made for me." His hands were settled on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread nice and open for him to pound his cock into you. He lets one hand press into your lower stomach, pushing his cock down while inside you, causing you to let out a gasp. He lets his palm spread your on your lower abdomen, letting his thumb creep closer and closer to your clit, catching it every so often as your hips rolled back and forth with his thrusts.

"You gonna be good and let me make you come again?" he asks, the cocky edge in his voice has you losing all coherence, "so pretty wrapped around my cock."

The movements of his thumb are much more deliberate now, rubbing your clit in tandem with the movement of his hips. He wasn't fucking you particularly fast, but he was making sure his cock was buried all the way inside you with every thrust, rolling his hips forward and punctuating each thrust with extra pressure.

"Oh my god, I-" your head was thrown back into the flannel pillowcases, body starting to tense up again. You were still so wet and turned on from your last orgasm, but coming while his massive cock was in you was going to be entirely different, you could feel it.

"That's it, come on my cock," he could feel the muscles in your thighs start to tighten, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him as he drew methodical figure eights on your clit. You felt so fucking good around him, so warm and wet and tight, swallowing his cock up with every thrust. That plus those damn sounds you were making. But Eddie had a goal, and couldn't be distracted by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body, his one and only focus was to push you over the edge, to take care of you and do it right.

The choked sobs leaving your heaving chest were the first indicator that you were about come, that and your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice. You weren't able to form words as you fell apart for him, just letting broken moans escape you as your body shook and released all that tension. Part of you could hear a string of praises coming from him, but all you could focus on was the ripple of your orgasm tearing through your body.

You start to come down for it, catching your breath, until you feel him pull out of you entirely and push you legs back as he had before, and dip his head down to lick down your quivering center. He lapped up your wetness and sent a few aftershocks buzzing into your core. His tongue slowed down and he let you settle down, before pushing his tongue entirely into you and letting out the most sensual groan right into your cunt.

"Holy shit," you let out, looking down at him and realized that next to seeing his dick for the first time, Eddie lapping up your orgasm was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

He sat up and let his cock rest in between your puffy pussy lips, his pierced head sitting right on your sensitive clit. He lets the weight of it fall into his hand and gives your pussy a few taps with his cock, sending your hips jerking from the sensitivity.

"Eddie," you start, eyes glassy and voice hoarse, "please keep fucking me, don't want you to stop."

"You want more?" a comment half cocky and half serious.

"Mhmm, want you to fuck me hard," your hands came up to play with your tits, "want you to come in me, use me, give it to me hard how I know you like it."

"'S'that right," he quickly grabs your hips and flips you over, angling your ass up in the air for him, "you wanna take all my come like the good girl you are?"

"Please," your muffled voice comes up from the sheets, "I'm on the pill, it's okay, it's safe."

"Mmm fuck," he slips his cock back into your soaking wet hole, guiding your hips back and forth with his big hands, "thank you, so fucking perfect for me, you can tell me if I go to hard, yeah?"

"Yeah Eddie," you try your best to bounce back on his cock, but know he's doing most of the work moving your ass to slap against his hips, "I want it hard."

With that he takes the initiative to snap his hips forward with every thrust, pulling your gorgeous ass back against him and twitching inside you every time it comes flush with his lower stomach. He can't help but bring a flat palm down to smack it, loving the big red handprint he leaves behind, and loving even more the muffled moan that leaves you when he does so.

"Y'like that?" he already knows you do, but just wants to hear you say it.

"Yes, again, please," each word comes out as a short gasping breath. He smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle against his palm has him thinking he's died and gone to heaven, you his personal angel.

Although he can feel the end in sight, he wants to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock again, so he snakes his hand under your arched hips and toys with your clit. You're beyond fucked out at this point, but can't help but prop yourself up on straightened arms to give him more room to rub against you. He leans down to press his chest against your back, one arm coming down by your side to support his weight as he fucks down into you.

"One more time," he lets out into the skin of your shoulder, "can you come for me one more time, princess?"

“I-” you start, about to tell him you’re unsure, but then he starts rubbing fast strokes against your clit and you’re already seeing stars.

He’s fucking into you fast and hard, just like you’d asked him to. The feeling of you clenching down on him has him biting your shoulder to hold back his grunts and moans. As soon as he feels your pussy start to gush around him, your arms collapsing and legs shaking under him, he lets go with a soft grunt and spills his come deep inside you.

He lets his cock stay there for a moment, pulsing inside you, relishing in the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. He pulls out slowly and you let out a small yelp, letting your hips fully sink down to the mattress without his hands to heep you propped up.

He runs a hand across your thigh, and you acknowledge your attention with a hum.

“M’gonna go get something to clean you up,” his voice is soft and you nod into the pillows, making a half hearted attempt to roll your body over. He uses his discarded sweatpants to wipe off his forehead and chest, suddenly aware of how sweaty he is, you both are.

He slips on his boxers and creeps down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a big glass of water and a clean hand towel run under the sink. He slips back into the room to find you paid out on the bed, all sweaty and fucked out, it’s the best you’ve ever looked to him.

He lifts you up by the shoulders and helps you sit up while you take a few sips of water and let out a “thank you” in between sips. He runs the warm cloth in between your legs a few times to catch anything sticky, before tossing it into the pile with his dirty clothes.

You were already mostly knocked out, all the energy completely drained from your body. Typically you’d awkwardly dance around the notion of spending the night or not, but your eyes felt too heavy to care, and your body was already molded into his sheets. He flicked off the bedside light and got settled into bed next to you, thinking you were already completely asleep.

“Thank you Eddie,” your voice was sleepy and almost didn't cut through the air.

“No problem, good sex is dehydrating,” he responds, assuming you meant the thanks for the water and towel.

“No thank you for taking care of me,” you roll into his arms, snuggling up against him, “I didn’t know sex could be like that.”

“Like what?” he partially knew what you meant, given that the three times you’ve ever come during sex all happened in the past hour.

“Like magic,” you’d have been embarrassed to say it in other circumstances. But the post sex bliss and intense sleep that was washing over you made you sort of hazy and elated.

“Yeah I think you’re pretty magic too,” he wrapped you up in his arms, feeling the same tiredness, “good night y/n.”

The next morning he felt a sort of sore stiffness in his body, wiping the crust from his eyes and suddenly remembering the events of the night prior. There was an empty warm spot in the bed next to him, indicating you must have slipped out recently. He shook out his messy bedhead and threw on some sweatpants.

A short trip down the hall brought him into the kitchen, where you were making a pot of coffee. You heard him come in from the hallway, and you suddenly tensed up at the thought of facing him. How did he look so damn good mid yawn, rubbing his face and his hair a wild mess.

You turn towards the coffee machine on the counter, frantically trying to think of what to say or how to act towards him. Before you could give it too much thought, you feel his presence directly behind you, his arms caging you in and his back pressed against you.

“Are you pouring me a cup?” he asks, hunching down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you elongate the word, taking in his scent and feeling his hair tickle your neck, “this is how you take it right? No cream, no sugar.”

“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a quick peck on the side of your neck before moving to grab the cup.

“Wow okay early bird Eddie,” Robin’s voice cuts through the air of the kitchen and he immediately grabs his coffee and moves away from you. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice and the two of you cringe at the somewhat compromising position.

“Okay I don’t think I want to know what the hell that was about,” she points between the two of you. Ahh Robin, master of the art of subtlety.

Steve comes into the kitchen, immediately sensing the awkward air between everyone in the small space.

“Oh god,” he looks from Robin’s pointing finger to the two of you with somewhat guilty expressions, “was THAT all that noise I heard last night? Jesus Christ you two.” He turns out of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Robin with a bewildered expression and the two of you cringing.

“At least they’re fucking instead of fighting now!” she calls to him as he continues to walk down the hall away from you.

Amongst Robin yelling and Steve leaving in a huff, Eddie manages to sneak his hand behind you and pinch your ass, making you jump a bit and the coffee in your cup to slosh around. He gives you a wink and starts to head out of the kitchen.

“I’m gonna have my coffee by the lake, you joining me?”

Maybe this trip was going to be something special after all.

All Eddie Fics Taglist: @eddielives1986

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