#which is make her and myself miserable. apparently. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

surielstea · 9 months ago

Text

Ballroom Secrets (pt. 11)

Based on this request.

Read pt.I here.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Cassian finds out about readers secret relationship with the High Lord of Autumn.

Warning: Angst | Slight description of depression | hurt/comfort | happy ending

5.6k words

A/N: Sorry this is so long 😭😭 I just really wanted to get the angst right so it got long quick, hope you enjoy! :)

I sat in the sitting room of the river house cuddled up next to Morrigan who was splitting a bottle of wine with me.

"Where'd you get this?" Mor asks, pinching the silk of my new dress between her hands. "Oh I'm not sure, it was a gift." I smile, remembering the way Eris handed it to me for no particular reason other than the fact that he wanted to take it off of me. "From who?" Feyre asks in her own chair, Rhysand standing beside her, leaning against the arm rest. My mouth goes dry.

"It's a male, look at the way she's blushing." Azriel hummed, leaning back against the wall. I cast him a glare but he only returns it with a soft smile. "The same male that gave you this?" Mor points to my neck. "Gave her what?" Cassian perks up from his sprawled out position on the couch, Nesta's feet in his lap. "Yeah, what?" I look to Mor confused. "A hickey." A smirk curves her lips and I slap my hand over where the mark lies.

"By who?" Nesta sits up, gods even she was interested. "No one, I don't know— just some guy." I stumble over my words, cursing myself for my horrible lie. Azriel nearly laughs and rightfully so, his shadows were probably picking up on every nerve that tensed in my body.

"Is that why you've been missing training?" Cassian raised a brow and I can't will the words to leave my mouth. I've always been a horrible liar, Eris has tried to teach me his ways of deceit but it was no use when every time I tried to be quick witted or malevolent it failed miserably and I made a fool of myself. "I've been missing training because you schedule it for the asscrack of dawn." I grumble, half truths however were my forte. Cassian narrows his eyes on me and I swallow thickly. "Oh leave her alone already, let the girl have her fun." Amren speaks up and I silently thank every god I can think of. "Cauldron knows she's had the three of you Illyrians hovering over her shoulder since she was born." The eldest of us finalizes and the conversation thankfully ends there.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I was in the middle of reading a novel in my bedroom of the river house when a note fluttered down onto my chest, appearing from thin air. A soft smile comes to my lips as I close the book and pick up the note, recognizing the handwriting immediately.

Will you be home soon?

I twist my lips to the side and dwell over the question before flipping on my side to grab a pen from my nightstand. I quickly write back and watch the note disappear from my hands.

I'm waiting for everyone to fall asleep, we're all night owls evidently.

It takes only a minute for him to reply and the words on the paper make me audibly giggle.

Drug them. I miss you, and I'm tired.

Can't sleep without me?

Apparently not. I smile widely at the sentiment. I'll leave soon, just for you.

Soon isn't soon enough

I roll my eyes at his childish impatience but a smile forms over my face as I write out my retort.

Shut your whining up, I'm trying to read

You're so mean to me (I like it)

I don't write back, deciding that if I say anything else he might winnow here himself just to take me back, which wouldn't be good. I opened my book back up but as soon as I was getting back into the story there was a knock at my door. I sigh and use Eris' note as a bookmark before shutting it. "Come in." I call, sitting up.

Cassian enters, taking up the whole entry way as he shuts the door behind him. I smile at my brother as he looks to me with his warm hazel eyes. "I thought you were going to bed?" He creases his brows skeptically and I roll my eyes. "I say that, and then I read my romance novels." I lift up my book and it was his turn to roll his eyes, taking a seat on my bed.

Cassian isn't my brother by blood, but he might as well be. I can't remember a time when he wasn't taking care of me. When he was only seven years old he offered me shelter in his tent. I was six and lost, my parents deserting me, or so I presumed. He tucked me under his wing and shielded me from the rain until arriving back to the tent. He snuck me food from Windhaven and even stole maids clothes off of laundry lines. If it weren't for him I most likely wouldn't be alive today, ever since then he's been particularly protective of me, even towards friends from other courts. I wasn't Illyrian either, but he always said I acted like one. Perhaps that was an insult, but I took it as a compliment.

"What's up?" I shift in my bed so my legs dangle over the side and he's right beside me. "We haven't talked in awhile, I miss you." It was true. It feels like it's been months since it's been just him and I. Realization dawns upon me that all of my free time has gone to Eris, he's my mate sure, but that doesn't mean I want to leave the rest of my family in the past.

"I know. I'm sorry." I lean my head on his shoulder. "I've been busy." I murmur, fiddling with my hands.

"Alright, Who's the lucky guy— or gal, I don't discriminate." He hums and my heart drops. Gods I did not want to expose my relationship with Eris right now. Not ever. "Can we not talk about this right now?" I say, my voice gentle and pleading. "C'mon, you used to tell me everything." He groans and I lift my head from his shoulder, my hands coming to my knees to stop from fidgeting. "This is different." I shrug.

"How so?"

His question is met with silence, I was weighing whether or not I should just kick him out and tell him I'm tired. He'd leave if I asked. But I didn't want him to, just didn't want to talk about this.

"I'd like to meet who's got my sister glowing like this." He bumps my side with his. "Doubt it." I grumble, then curse myself for letting that slip. "What's that supposed to mean?" He snorts a laugh and I look at him nervously, gripping my knees tighter as his smile slowly drops. "I've met him?" He arches a brow and all I can do is slowly nod. Is this it? All that sneaking around summing up to this very moment? "Do I like this guy?" He guesses like this is a game and the health of our friendship isn't in my hands. "Not really, no." I answer honestly, lying is impossible and staying silent will only cause his thoughts to drive him mad.

"Well if he's got you this happy, I'm willing to reevaluate." He shrugs, carefree. He clearly doesn't understand the situation. "It's not that simple." I shake my head, looking away from him and back to my lap. "Talk to me, I won't judge." He reaches over, placing his calloused hand on my clenched ones. "Promise." He gives them a reassuring squeeze. A pit forms in my stomach. My nails dig into the skin of my knees and he understands, pulling his hand away. My eyes widen and I can only pray he doesn't hate me for this.

"Before I tell you, try not to be too mad okay?" I crease my brows, swallowing thickly and looking to him. "Uh, okay?" He looks at me foolishly. "I'm serious." I stress with wide eyes. "Okay, okay, I won't be mad." He promises and I force myself to take a deep breath. This truth that I've been hiding for nearly a year now about to be exposed. All because I forgot to glamour a fucking hickey on my neck. Gods how could I have been so stupid?

I realize the quiet has been dragging on for far too long and that if I don't tell him now I never will.

"Eris."

Silence. He doesn't make a sound and he doesn't move. A weight lifts from my shoulders and for a second it's bliss. "What?" His voice lacks emotion and a new weight envelopes me. Fuck. "Eris is the male I've been secretly seeing." It comes out in a pitiful whisper. "Are you mad?" I was quick to ask, but he doesn't reply for a long moment. Allowing me to think of everything I've done. All that I've risked just to be with my mate, to be happy.

"Please tell me you're talking about another Eris." He tries to remain calm but I can hear it, the quiver of his voice, the clenching of his fists. I shake my head no and I swore I could feel the heat radiating off of him, pure anger. "You promised you wouldn't be mad!" I stand to look at him, a fire in his eyes that is pure rage.

"Well that was before you let that bastard into your bed." He stands and my neck cranes up to keep eye contact, the power dynamics making my legs wobble. Gods I felt useless.

"It's not like that—" I try to defend but he doesn't let me finish. "What? Don't tell me you think he's in love with you?" He scoffs like it's the most improbable thing on the continent. Tears well in my eyes at the idea. "You don't know him." I defend. "I don't want to, for all I know he's probably using you for a good fuck—" He starts. "Stop it." I demand and he clamps his mouth shut. "He's better than you think." I will my voice not to break. "Has he brainwashed you? You can't be serious." He nearly laughed at the idea. I don't say anything, allowing him to get his anger out before I plead my case.

"Or have you forgotten what he's done to Morrigan?" A shutter racks through me and I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes. "That story isn't true." I rasped but I doubt he hears me. I must sound insane to him. "Do you know who his parents are? How you'll be treated if you ever married him?" He goes on but it's not true, none of what he says is true. "You'll be a fucking brood mare, forced to give sons over and over again. Do you understand that?" His hand comes to my shoulders, squeezing tightly. "He's not Beron. We've talked about it, he doesn't even want kids unless I'm willing to give that to him." My words are just above a whisper and he lets go of my shoulders like he's repulsed, as if I hold a virus and he doesn't want to get infected.

"It doesn't matter. Eventually you become parents." He whispered. "You really believe that? Tell that to Rhys. To Morrigan, or Azriel. Tell that to fucking Nesta." I grit out, whipping my head up to look at him and his hypocritical statements. I allow him to see the fury in my eyes, the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Leave her out of this." He narrows his eyes on me.

The first argument to this level we ever had was over his mate. I hated her, loathed every part of her and what she made my brother go through— and now she's one of my most trusted friends and one of my favorite people. A laugh escapes from my body. I must've looked crazy finding amusement at a time like this. "It's the same thing." I bring my hands up to wipe my tears. "Gods were so fucking predictable." I sigh out. He looks at me confused, eyes analyzing my body language. "Nesta is just like him, and you know it." I narrow my brows at him. "This is different." He clenches his fists at his sides. "How so? Give me one good reason as to how this is different?" I will him. "Eris hurt Mor." He says the crime like it's dirt in his mouth. "Nesta hurt Feyre." I reason with him. He grits his teeth. "He hates Illyrians. He hates you and I because of where we come from, do you understand how fucked that is?" His hands come to my wrists, as if pleading me to listen.

"His father hates Illyrians." I correct. "And stop saying I'm an Illyrian I'm not." I pull at his grip but it's iron. "Fine. But he hates me, are you picking sides right now?" His brows crease like I've betrayed him. "No! I—" My breath gets caught halfway up my throat. "I don't want to pick sides, I want both." Tears continue falling and I don't bother wiping them away anymore. "And Nesta hated the Fae entirely, don't be so certain that makes them different." I seethe out at him and he narrows his eyes at me. "We're mates. Nesta and I are cauldron willed, you can't ignore something like that." He says and I stare at him unwavering, not bothering to say anything but rather dropping my glamour around the mating bond connected straight to the high lord of Autumn.

His eyes widen and his grip on my wrists loosens but I don't pull away. "No," His voice is a whisper. I nod. "Reject the bond, you deserve better than him I don't care if you love him." He rules. "I already accepted it, nearly half a year ago." I expose. If I was going to be honest I might as well lay it all out. "Half a year?" He rasps and I nod gravely. "You've been lying to me for half of a fucking year?" His tone is louder, more angry. "I don't understand why you care so deeply, I gave you my reasons now leave it alone." I match his lever of voice. "Why I care? I've always cared, you're my family—" He begins and I tear my wrists from his grasp. "You're not even my real brother!" I yell at him and I swore the world stopped spinning. Pain flashes across his eyes and he stumbles back, his mouth falling open before he clamps it shut and swallows thickly.

"Cass I didn't—" I try. "No." He looks at me like he's never seen me before. "You've made your point clear." He walks to the door. Every fiber of my being wants to beg him to stay. But my feet can't move and I stare aimlessly as he leaves, the door clicking shut with a gut wrenching softness. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I use whatever remaining energy I have left to winnow back to my apartment. Where I knew Eris impatiently waited for me to return. I land wobbly on my feet, tears slowly cascading from the wells of my eyes. Eris who was laid on the couch with a book sat up alarmed. I remove the walls around our bond and allow the misery that overwhelmed me to flood into his end of our connection.

He rushes toward me alarmed, fire raging in his eyes but not toward me, toward whoever made me feel this way. "Eris," I murmur, I was sure I was going to collapse. "My love," He brings a hand to my waist, keeping me steady but that didn't stop a choked sob from escaping me. "What's wrong?" His other hand comes to my cheek, wiping away my tears. "Talk to me." His brows crease and this feels so wrong, seeking comfort in the very reason Cassian is mad at me in the first place.

"He knows." I whisper. "Who knows?" His brows crease in confusion, before they relax with realization. I grip his shirt in my fists, looking up at him like a lost animal. "I'm a horrible sister." I confess, my voice breaking on the final word. "No," He shakes his head, pulling me into his chest, holding me close and warming me up. "No love, don't say that." He whispered into my hair, his arms tight around me.

Another sob racks through me but he doesn't shush me, he allows the dam of tears to break and every emotion I've kept bottled up for the past half year comes flowing out.

I tell him everything. From the moment Mor noticed the hickey to the point when Cassian left my bedroom. My voice shook when telling him of what I said to my brother. "And now I'm here and, and I don't know what to do." I sobbed, looking up at him as he ran a hand through the ends of my hair. "I see." His voice is soft, caring. "I was so mad, I wasn't thinking and with all the words he said about you I just— I hated him at that moment." I cup my mouth at the realization. I never wanted to hate anyone, especially not someone I love so much. I never want to feel that uncontrollable emotion ever again.

"It's not your fault." He stresses. "We'll figure this out together alright?" His thumb traces along my cheek and I nod, blinking away my final tears. "But what if he never wants to talk to me again?" I whisper. "What if he hates me?" My lip quivers at the thoughts, I don’t know how I’d live with myself if Cassian ever hated me. "Your brother loves you too much to ever consider that. Alright?" His hands grip my face slightly as if to stress his point and I nod meekly, slipping my hands around his waist again and hugging him tightly.

He releases a deep sigh and hugs me back, his touch warming my skin in a way that comforted me more than he could ever know. In the hug I begin to wonder how he feels about the world knowing. I hoped he knew how much he’s helping me, how much I appreciated that he’s here for me. Then I realized that he might be thinking of leaving for my benefit, so I can return to Cassian and tell him everything he said about Eris was right and I can stay with my family. I didn’t want that. Gods, why can’t I have both? The cauldron must’ve been playing a cruel joke on me. "Please, don't leave." I beg of him. He bends down and places a hard kiss to the temple of my head. "Never." But he would, if I asked.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next few days were long. I barely slept, every time I tried I'd be reminded of the words I spat at Cassian. I couldn't face him, didn't dare go back to the River House, much less the House of Wind. I stayed in bed, staring out the window of my bedroom, watching the sunset shining against the Sidra, the water refracting in rainbows as stars awakened in the sky. Another day passes.

I felt hollow, my limbs heavy and my stomach a pit. I knew I'd have to face Cassian soon, see him and the others. I wonder if he told them, warned them all to no longer speak to me. All because of who I'm in love with. Anger consumed me for a few days, thinking him deserving for what I said. Who was he to pick who I can and cannot love? I spent hours cursing him as a hypocritical bastard, spewing lies to convince myself I was in the right.

I slowly came to, deciding I needed to stop avoiding my own fate and face what truly lies at the root of the problem. The rest of the days of my solitude was spent in grief.

Feeling sorry for myself wasn't any better than the raging nights. It was truly pitiful how I ended up here.

There was a knock at the door frame. I didn't have to look to guess it was my mate. "I'm not hungry Eris." I say plainly, continuing to stare out at the river. "Have you eaten today?" I don’t expect his voice to be behind me as he slithers into the bed beside me, curling an arm around my waist. “I had a bowl of soup not too long ago.” I answer, flipping onto my side to look up at him. His golden eyes that rolled with sadness, he couldn’t help blaming himself for my situation and I hated that he did. “Okay.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I have to return to Autumn later tonight, high lord stuff.” He grumbled and I groaned, tucking closer to him. “I’ll be back in the morning.” He promised. I huff, wrapping an arm around his torso and burrowing into his chest. “Unless, you want to come with me?” He arched a brow and I look up at him, my head propped up on his chest. “To the Autumn court?” I ask. He nods, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I haven’t been to my mates court since Eris’ coronation because it’d raise suspicion if a girl from Rhysand’s inner circle began to roam the markets of the foreign court. But I suppose that didn’t matter now if our secrets out. “You think your people will react well?” I ask anxiously. “After my father ruled over them they’ll take anything they can get, and if a pretty high lady is an option I think they’ll be over the moon.” He offers me a gentle smile. “High lady?” I can’t help but smile at the idea of ruling a court together. He nods. I fantasize about the idea for a moment, until the thought of Cassian finding out about me proudly wearing an autumn court crown settles over me. He’d fall into a fit of pure rage and I’d never forgive myself. “Can we wait?” I ask. “Just until all this is resolved with Cass, and then yes. I’d love to be your high lady.” I nod. He gives me a comforting expression. “Of course my love.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. I him against the action and kiss him back. Wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. His lips slotted perfectly against mine and the feeling that bloomed in my chest when kissing him filled the pit of my stomach and the hollowness of my heart. I felt lighter. A knock sounds at the front door, loud and demanding. My ears perk at the sound and I pull back, he seems to want to chase my mouth back to his but he freezes too when another impatient knock rings through the house.

I sigh and sink down into the bed. "You can answer it." I say, removing my arms from his neck. "Are you sure?" He asks, his own warm arms slipping from my waist and I wished they didn’t. "They all know by now, what's the point of hiding it?" I grumble, and he nods as he stands from the bed, my eyes watching him as he does so. "Alright." He nods. “If it’s not Cassian I’m not interested.” I voice. He glances to me and only nods in reply.

He leaves the room and my eyes go back to the window. I strain my ears to hear for the voices in the living room but I can only hear Eris.

"She doesn't want to see you." He said. A mumble of a voice replied, it was soft, must be female. My hope diminished when I realized it's not my brother. "In the bedroom." Is the next thing I hear from my mate and I mentally prepare for whoever is about to walk into my room.

The door creeks open but I don't move. I stay looking out the window, watching as dusk now takes over the sky. "Gods its dark in here." Nesta.

I don't have the energy to reply, giving her enough of an answer with my silence. "Look, I know I'm not who you want to see, but he's in a similar state as you." She hums and that fact settles deep into my bones. I adjust, sitting up and facing her, leaning back against my headboard.

"He throws up every night too?" I ask with a wry sense of humor. Nesta tossed a glare toward Eris who stood at the doorway like a guard.

"No, much worse. He won't stop training." She hums, crossing her arms and sitting on the edge of the bed beside my thighs. Her eyes go distant as she thinks about her mate. "He's spent more time in the training ring than sleeping as of late, he doesn't joke anymore, and I haven't seen him smile in a week." She confesses, her brows creased in concern.

"Are you telling me this to try and make me feel better?" I murmur, avoiding her gaze.

"You know me better than that." She scoffs. It was true, Nesta is one of my best friends. The three Valkyries all are, but especially the eldest Archeron. I remember all the things I said about her, how I boiled her down to all of her faults. The hollowness returns and another thing I will never forgive myself about forms. "I care about you, but I care about him more." She stands up, Eris growls from the doorway but I wave him off, understanding what she meant. "And I just need the two of you to figure your shit out so he goes back to his usual self, it’s so quiet at the house." She crosses her arms over her chest defensively but her tone is soft. "He misses you." She reveals. "He won't admit it but he wants to see you, stop by the house, please." She finalizes, before turning on her heel and walking towards the door.

"Nesta," I call, she whirls around to look at me. "Thank you." Is all I can get out. She nods, then turns back around and exits the way she came.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The house of wind was emptier than I expected it to be. Eris offered a dozen times to come with me last night, saying that he’d cancel his meetings in the Autumn court so he can offer some sort of support but I told him he had to tend to his own court, that I had to do this on my own. So here I was, about an entire day after Nesta's speech, ready to face my brother. Or at least I hoped I was.

I wandered the halls, stretching ny hearing for any sound but I was met with nothing. I remember Nesta mentioning the training ring so I ascend the steps to the roof.

The clang of metal swords clash loudly as I welcome myself onto the landing, staring at my brother and Azriel who were sparring just to get frustration out. Cassian was sloppy with his moves, not breathing through each step the way he usually did. And Azriel was going easy on him. It was rare for the competitive shadow singer to sympathize but in this instance he was working Cassian like a charity case. The general knew it too and only fueled more of that anger he held in each of his swings.

Azriel and I make eye contact and his movements freeze, shadows pooling at my feet as Cassian struck him down and pinned him with his sword. "Again." My brother demanded, reaching his hand out toward the spymaster. Azriel remained looking at me and with the distraction, Cassian whirled around to look at me with narrowed eyes that quickly turned wide.

His sword clattered down onto the mat as he let it slip from his hand. "Cass." My voice is a rasp. He takes a step out of the training ring until he's right in front of me and I'm looking up at him again.

Tears well in my eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said I just—" I tried to speak but was cut off by his large arms wrapping around me tightly into a warm hug. I melt into it, releasing a soft sigh of relief and hugging him back. "You were right." He confesses. "I was just hurt and wasn't thinking about how you might be feeling." He mutters into my hair. "No you were right to be mad," I shake my head. "I kept it a secret from you for a long time, I should tell you everything." I admit and he backs away from the hug.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me things, I reacted poorly." He sighs. "I did too, the things I said about Nesta were uncalled for. You know I love her." I say with tearful eyes. “I know, it’s okay.” He reassures, squeezing me tighter and lifting me up off the ground slightly with his height. "But, I'm not sorry for being with Eris." I assert as he places me back on the ground and he backs away. His eyes soften and he wipes a stray tear from my face. "I know, it'll take some time for me to get used to but I want you to be happy." He utters and that's all I needed to hear. "I can't promise he'll be invited to all the family dinners." He scratches the side of his neck and I offer him a relaxed smile. "That's okay," I nod my head. "I doubt he'd want to come anyways." I shrug. "The prick should consider himself lucky for even being able to look at you." Cassian grumbles. I give him a reprimanding look and he puts his hands up like he's been caught for a crime. "Sorry, I'll be better." He promises. "Thank you, brother." I pull him closer into another hug. "Means the world to me." I mumble and he presses a kiss to the crown of my head the way he's always done for the past five hundred years.

"You're sweaty." I grimace, breaking away from his hug. I lean to the side of him to see Azriel waiting impatiently for him to return to the training ring. "Do me a favor?" I look up at him. "Anything." He hums without hesitation. "Kick Az's ass for me?" I arch a brow and a menacing smile curves his lips. "I heard that!" Azriel calls from a few yards away, dammed shadows.

I look at the blue siphoned male glaring at me as Cassian retreats back to his sword. I blow the spy master a kiss and he waves me off. I smile contentedly and winnow back home.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Eris leaned against the kitchen counter with a furrow in his brow, waiting impatiently for me to return. I was surprised at his early arrival, he said he’d be home tonight but the sun had barely left the horizon. I suppose he wanted to return as soon as possible. He pushed off the counter and looks at me expectantly. A bright smile curves my lips and I jump into his arms, he catches me without so much as a stumble back, his warm hands coming under my thighs and heating me up like a cozy fire. "Everything's okay?" He asks worriedly, I don't reply and instead bring my hands up to his sharp cheekbones and pull him in for a kiss.

It was soft and lasting, like he was afraid I was going to tell him to leave after this ends. That Cassian somehow convinced me my mate was some maniacal creature who didn't deserve love. He wouldn't blame me, he'd go if I asked him and that fact is tearing at me. So I deepened our kiss, pulling him closer with a hope to reassure him.

"Please tell me everything's okay." He begs against my lips and I nod. "Everything's okay." I whisper with a small smile and he releases a hefty sigh, the weight of a world lifting from his shoulders. "Cass said he'd try his best. But then he followed up by saying you're a prick so?" I scrunch my nose at the way it sounds and he grins widely. "Sounds about right." He nods, placing me atop the countertop.

"Thank you." I say, wrapping my legs around him. "For what my dear?" His brows crease. "You took care of me when I was at my worst, I appreciate it." I softly say, his eyes glaze over for a moment but the sheen quickly disappears after he blinks. "You would've done the same thing for me." He shakes his head, leaning closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my lips. "I think I'll miss sneaking around with you." He admits and I chuckle. "Me too, but think about all the things we can do now that we don't have to be a secret?" I grin wildly at all the possibilities. His eyes light up and a smirk curves his sensual lips.

"What?" I ask him nervously when he doesn't say anything. "How would you like to be crowned high lady now?" He suggests and my cheeks heat. "But you've already been crowned, can we still do that?" I tilt my head. "It's my court love, I can do whatever I want." His arrogant tone makes me roll my eyes. "And what do you want?" I tilt my head, running my hands through the tufts of his deep auburn hair. "I want you on my throne." He purred, pressing a kiss to my jaw. "That can be arranged." I grin, throwing my arms over his shoulders.

"Anything else high lord?" I give him a seductive smile and he gets the hint. "I also want to fuck you by the fireplace." He confessed, pressing light kisses up the side of my face. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi

Comment a “💙” to be added to the tag list!

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #x you #fanfic #sequel fic #suriels tea

215 notes · View notes

shion-yu · 1 month ago

Text

Day 30: Contagion

We made it, folks! I really pushed myself to finish @sicktember and I’m so proud I did. For this last work I decided to just let go and do something different. TW for fictional contagion and some mess. Like, contagion is all it is. Which is not something I usually write, but I was inspired by @poetryandsniffles “Going Around” at 3am. It starts with unnamed characters and ends with you. Hope someone enjoys this. As you guys might know, snz isn't fully my thing but I know I have a lot of followers for whom it is, so this is for you. 1,933 words, TW fictional contagion.

It’s Saturday, and all the new freshmen students are moving into the dorms down the street. The bookseller is ready for them, knowing all the students are eager to exercise their first taste of freedom and want to window shop in their new college town. It's probably his busiest day of the year, which is why he absolutely cannot close the store despite the wretched cold he woke up with. He has a cough that won't let him finish a sentence without interrupting himself, and being surrounded by all the used books is making the sneezes that overtake him every minute even worse. He’s putting an old tome of Shakespeare away when he hears the bell ring, signaling a customer. He closes the book and accidentally inhales a noseful of dust. He tries to say, “Welcome,” but instead all he gets out is “Wehh - heee - ahh hatchoo!”

“Bless you!” It's definitely a freshman, round glasses overtaking half her face and her little homemade clay earrings dangling on either side.

“Tdangks,” the bookseller mumbles, snorting a huge noseful of congestion up into his face in an attempt to clear his voice. Apparently that's the wrong move, because it causes him to erupt into a harsh round of coughing that forces him to sit down behind his desk.

The freshman doesn't seem to mind. She’s too interested in looking around the store, fascinated by the used books. The bookseller nurses his poor nose into the fiftieth tissue of the morning, blowing as hard as he can yet it doesn't seem to clear the congestion. He hasn't been this sick in ages. Why did it have to be today of all days?

“I’ll take this, please.”

The bookseller looks up to find the freshman standing in front of him, holding none other than the thick Shakespeare tome he just put away. The one that he knows he really should have wiped down before shelving.

“Are you sure you want this one?” He asks hesitantly.

“Why?”

Explaining feels like too much work, and bad business. The bookseller shakes his head. “No reason,” he says, coughing into his elbow. “That’ll be $10.80.”

~.~.~.~

It’s well known that a cold isn't uncommon in the beginning of the semester, but the freshman can't believe it took less than a week for her to get hit with this plague. It’s only the end of the first day of classes when she feels a tickle in her throat that makes her cough. By evening she’s feeling the chill of an incoming fever, and by the next morning she feels like she’s been hit by a bus. This feels worse than just a cold, but it's literally the second day of classes in her first year of university. She can't afford to take a sick day so soon.

And so, the freshman drags herself to her English 101 lecture where she continues to cough and shiver, clutching the hoodie she's wearing around her ever tighter. Her bones ache and she feels like she desperately needs to be in bed, but this lecture is three hours long. Three torturous hours, and it's not a huge class. Everybody can hear her coughing away, she's sure of it. She's so embarrassed by her noisiness - the rustle as she plucks out tissue after tissue from the box she's helplessly taken to carrying around. The petite sniffle she's trying to hold back every few seconds, but if she doesn't her nose will be streaming. The stifled sneezes that more than often result in additional chesty coughs. By the end of the lecture she’s so cold and miserable that she's not sure she's going to make it to her next class, which is chemistry 100.

Somehow she does, and before most of the other students too. She figures now is a good time to try and blow her nose as loudly as possible. Maybe if she can empty it out, she won't be so disruptive at this lecture. She blows into a tissue hard, and it makes her nose tickle. She can't hold it back, and she scrambles to grab another tissue - but it's too late. She ducks her head to the side and sneezes, uncovered, spraying the space next to her. Thankfully no one’s sat down yet. She hastily tries to clean the desk with the tissue, but she stupidly didn't bring any hand sanitizer and the desk is still gleaming with germs when a boy comes in and sits right next to her.

He greets her and introduces himself as a football player who’s retaking the class. The freshman can't help but watch in horror as he puts his hands all over the desk, then proceeds to bite his nails. She can't just apologize, but she does so in her head, knowing he’s doomed.

~.~.~.~

The football player is pretty pissed that he’s managed to catch something already. He doesn't have any time for a cold, especially not so early in the season. It doesn't matter that it’s cold for September, or that it's raining, or that he already had chills before practice started. He’s got to push through for the sake of the team, and also his reputation and scholarship. And he still has to finish that chemistry assignment. Who gives such a long homework in the first two weeks of classes? It should be illegal.

He’s drying off in the locker room, a now very wet cough echoing against the metal lockers. He changes into clean clothes, but he still feels sticky with sweat and rain water. He shivers and shleps off to his chemistry professor's office hours. He needs an extension.

The professor doesn't look happy to see him dripping and sniffling when he shows up at his door. “C’mon, professor, I just need a few days. It's the beginning of the season, I can't fall behind already, and I’m - koff koff koff - sick.”

“I can see that,” the professor says in mild disgust. “But I don't make exceptions. Not even for athletes,” she says before he can protest.

“That's not fair,” the football player complains. “I really am s-siii-”

The professor tries to duck, but it's too late. The football player sneezes, only poorly half covering. “Sorry,” he says hoarsely.

“I think you'd better go home and lie down,” the professor says in a clipped tone. There's some spray on the corner of her glasses, much to both of their chagrin. “And skip practice tomorrow.”

“Yes ma'am,” the football player says. He’s too ashamed of himself now to keep begging. The professor sprays lysol all over her office and hopes it’ll be enough.

~.~.~.~

It’s not enough. By the end of the week the professor, too, is full of cold. She has to lecture through it, even though she barely has a voice and nearly spills chemical solutions on herself trying to contain her sneezes into her shoulder while holding glass beakers. The students keep blessing her, and that irritates her more than anything because it's their damn fault she’s sick. She's trying to make tenure though, and isn't about to call out, so she pushes through. Every sneeze hitches in the back of her throat as she tries to hold back, making a girlish noise that kills her inside a little.

She’s already passed the cold along to her husband, your coworker, who has an immune system as good as a preschooler. She can't wait to get home where she can just relax. Her legs are cramping from standing for so long in heels, her makeup is running because of all the congestion, and she keeps making errors while lecturing that she never would otherwise. This cold is so embarrassing and comes with all the visible symptoms: cough, congestion, sneezing, fever. It's impossible to hide.

Her coworkers have even taken notice and mentioned she ought to take it easy, which the professor absolutely will not be doing. So what if she has to cough through her lectures? So what if the students in the front row may or may not be nursing colds of their own in a week? She has to work, that's just how it is. No exceptions, she tells her students. Not even for herself.

~.~.~.~

You can hear your coworker coughing from his cubicle opposite you. Yesterday he said his wife was sick, and today he seems to have brought her cold to share with everyone. How generous of him, you think dryly. You cringe as you hear him blow his nose again, a wet, harsh sound that is the audible equivalent of contagion. And now - oh no. Now he's coming to you.

“I've got the report done,” your coworker says as he approaches. His eyes are red rimmed and watery, nose raw red from blowing and his lips parted in an awkward fashion because he can't breathe properly. And now he's blowing germs all over your desk.

You take the report from him and hope to shoo him away quickly with a thank you, but no such luck. He bends over your desk and starts to explain part of the report that apparently, he finds is not self explanatory enough. You can hear the whistle of blocked sinuses and his voice crackles with congestion. “Does that make sense?” He asks, standing up and sniffling. He runs his temple, clearly also trying to work through a headache.

“Yes, perfect sense,” you tell your coworker. It doesn't matter if it made sense or not, you wish he'd just go away. “You don't look so good. Why don't you go home?” You ask.

“It's not so bad - snrrk!” He says before snorting loudly. “I can deal with it.”

“I see,” you say. And apparently everyone else has to deal with it, too.

~.~.~.~

You hope you'll get lucky. That Emergen-C and hand sanitizer will save you - but it doesn't. Because a few days later you, too, wake up with an ache in your head and chest and a shiver that won't go away despite several fall layers of clothing. You have a cough that snaps and crackles against your sore throat and the sinus pressure behind your eyes throbs. You haven't even made it out of bed before you're overtaken by a round of three loud sneezes in succession. You’re definitely sick.

Unlike your coworker, you're not about to work through this cold. You feel too lousy, and the fever you're running is way too high to ignore. It's everywhere, this fever: deep in your bones, making everything ache from head to toe. You spend the day in bed, shivering and coughing away. The bed becomes a sea of used tissues, the small trashcan long since overflowing. The fever must be making you emotional, because you can't help but tear up a little when your partner finally comes home.

“Aw, baby,” they say sympathetically. They press their cold hands against your hot cheeks and wet washcloths to cool you down. They climb into bed with you and cuddle you, your throbbing head and streaming nose in their lap, and don't complain about how you're getting snot all over their knee. “Poor love,” they say. “You’ll be better soon.”

You close your eyes and just listen to your partner’s soothing voice. In a few days, this will all be over, you tell yourself. Whatever this cold or flu from hell is, you’ll be back at it by next week. For right now though, you decide to just rely on your partner completely. Let them dote on you, take care of you, and hope you don’t get them - and didn't get too many others - sick, too.

#shionwrites #sicktember #sickfic #snz #contagion #sicknario

95 notes · View notes

tortillamastersblog · 4 months ago

Text

♕ No Matter What - Part 16 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries and slight angst

Summary: Lena is still a no-show. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

“Good, you’re doing great. Just one more step,” Dr. Mike encourages, holding my left hand as I walk on unstable legs.

My right hand is wrapped so tightly around the bar mounted to the wall that my knuckles have turned white.

I take the last step before lowering myself into the waiting wheelchair. My hands are shaking and I’m breathing heavily as Doctor Mike crouches down by my side with a beaming smile.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” he says. “If you keep working hard and doing your exercises you’ll be almost as good as new in no time.”

I try my best to smile, but even without the pitiful look on Doctor Mike’s face that follows it I know it wasn’t very convincing.

Ever since we dialed back my pain meds my entire left leg has been tingling and is weak. Sometimes it feels like an electric shock runs through it, all the way from my hip and down to my toes, and Doctor Mike says that even though the weakness will get better, the nerve pain will never truly go away.

Yes, it will also get better, but I won’t ever have physiological sensibility and mobility again.

“Why don’t we get you back to your room, you look tired,” he states rather than asks when I don’t comment on anything that he’s said.

I mumble please and hang my head low when he begins pushing me out of the pt room and back to my own room.

It’s been almost three weeks since what happened and I’ve honestly never felt this empty.

Don’t get me wrong, I was absolutely crushed and numb after Noah was killed, but now there’s just so many things weighing me down that I don’t know if I’ll ever come out on the other side of things again.

To start things off, I’m constantly having nightmares about what happened with Lex. They’re mostly about what actually happened but sometimes they’re also about Lena, Sam, or Ruby getting shot.

Then there’s the whole situation with my dad. He hasn’t visited me since that one time where he tried to apologize, and I’ve been racking my brain ever since if I have it in my heart to forgive him.

There’s also the nerve damage on my lower spine which turned out to be worse than expected. I’m not paralyzed — something I apparently came very close to— but my left leg is basically useless at the moment and the constant physical therapy is painful and exhausting.

And to top it all off, Lena hasn’t visited me even once since I got here. I also can’t get ahold of her on my phone because Lex destroyed it and I have yet to get a new one.

No one’s heard from her. The news outlets are dying for a comment from her about Lex’s and all her friends — Sam obviously included— can’t reach her either.

She’s not at home, apparently, which worries me, but it’s not like I can just walk out of this hospital and go look for her myself.

The only thing that gives me a little peace of mind is the fact that she texted Sam the day I was shot that she had to deal with some stuff and that she wouldn’t be available for some time.

When I first heard about it I was very worried because I know she blames herself for what happened, but then as time went on, I started to hate her for abandoning me.

Now, though, I’m just sad and dejected.

Do I really mean that little to her? I mean, even if she does blame herself, I thought her worry would outweigh her guilt eventually and she’d visit me, but apparently not. . .

Doctor Mike drops me off in my room, making sure I’m comfortable in the bed before leaving with an encouraging smile.

I sigh and close my eyes, only to open them again a couple minutes later when Sam and Ruby stop by.

They’ve been visiting me every day and even though I’m absolutely miserable and can’t wait to get out of here, they’ve been a reliable support system and always managed to cheer me up, even if it’s just a tiny bit.

Sam kisses my cheek in greeting and Ruby hugs me before pulling a deck of UNO cards out of her mom’s purse.

“Can we play?” she asks with a hopeful grin and I pat the space on the bed next to me with a nod.

We’ve been playing this game for a week now and at first ai thought I’d get tired of it, but that has yet to happen. I love playing with the two of them, especially when Ruby giggles after putting down a draw four card.

“Of course, c’mere.”

Sam takes a seat on the chair next to the bed while Ruby settles in next to me. She shuffles the cards and hands them out as Sam tells me about her day at the office.

“. . . and then Marcus has the nerve to burst right into my office,” Sam concludes once Ruby has passed out enough cards. “Can you believe that?!”

I chuckle and shake my head, sorting my cards and fanning them out in my left hand. “I honestly don’t know why you haven’t fired him yet.”

Sam huffs and puts down the first card, a red four. “Yeah, me neither.”

We play a couple of rounds, chatting about God knows what until Ruby decides she’s had enough and that she wants a hot chocolate from the hospital’s cafeteria.

Sam hands her some cash and we both watch her leave before Sam turns back to me with a serious expression.

“Okay, out with it,” she says, moving her chair closer to the bed. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately and I know it’s not just because of Lena.”

Immediately my eyes start stinging with tears and I gulp, trying to force them away. When Sam grabs my hand and squeezes it however, there’s no stopping them anymore and within seconds my cheeks are wet and my chin is wobbling.

“I just— I can’t anymore, Sam,” I admit with a hiccup. “I’m exhausted and-and everything around me reminds me of everything bad that’s ever happened to me.”

I use my free hand to wipe away my tears, but it’s of no use because they just keep coming and there’s nothing I can do about it as everything I’ve been holding back for almost three weeks now bubbles out of me.

“I can’t stand walking past Noah’s favorite coffee shop every morning. I hate seeing my dad’s favorite local beer in bars and I hate all the reporters outside the hospital just waiting for me to talk about Lex,” I whisper, not daring to look at Sam. “It’s too much. . .”

It’s silent for a moment until Sam’s soft touch on my cheek makes my breath hitch. She uses her free hand to wipe away some more of my tears and when I look up to meet her eyes all I can see is sympathy and understanding.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she says quietly. “I understand what you mean and I think it’s high time you got away from all of this for a while.”

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze her hand. “You’re saying I should leave?”

She nods. “Yes. You could travel and explore the world, or you could just move somewhere else for a couple of years, you know?”

I don’t want to travel. I’ve seen enough of the world for now, having been stationed in a couple of countries while I was in the Army.

The thought of moving, however, makes me pause and think for a second.

It would be a great opportunity to start over, start on a blank slate, and if I ever get homesick I can always just move back to National City.

“But what about you and Ruby?“ I ask. I’ve always been there for them and they’ve always been there for me, too. I can’t just leave them behind and start a new life somewhere.

“We’ll be fine,” Sam assures me with a watery smile. “We’ll always stay in touch, but it’s time for you to start living again, Y/N, rather than just existing.”

“Sammy. . .” I trail off, not exactly knowing what to say. I’m overwhelmed by her understanding and her support, but I’m also sad at the prospect of being away from her and Ruby.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You’ll be okay, and Ruby and I will be okay, too.”

I squeeze her hand again and close my eyes for a second, letting what happened just now sink in.

“I love you, Sammy,” I whisper when I open my eyes again.

Sam sniffles and blinks away some of her own tears. “I love you, too.”

I chuckle and press a kiss to her knuckles right as Ruby returns from the cafeteria. She doesn’t notice our tear stained faces and wordlessly joins me on the bed again, sipping hot chocolate from her paper cup.

She starts babbling about her day at school which makes me smile softly. Every so often Sam’s gaze meets mine and the unrelenting understanding in her eyes puts my mind at ease.

I’m going to be okay, I think, but the question of Lena’s whereabouts and what she’s up to still gnaws at the back of my mind.

It’s been a week since I decided to move and an old friend of Sam’s told her about an apartment he’s just finished remodeling in Metropolis that I can move into at any time.

It’s a big step, moving to the other end of the country, but it will give me the space I so desperately need.

I was released from the hospital two days ago and have since been packing most of my stuff and getting my affairs in order.

I have to take it easy because I’m still recovering, which is why I’m only packing light things like clothes. The rest will be taken care of by a moving company that I’ve hired to start tomorrow.

My left leg is still weak and tingles, but the shooting pains have stopped and all my other injuries have healed nicely.

I have to use a crutch for the time being because I’m still a little unstable on my feet, but Doctor Mike told me that I won’t be needing it soon enough if I continue to do the exercises the physical therapist showed me.

So far the only people who know that I’m moving are Sam and Harper. The latter found out because she was there when Sam called me about the apartment, but she swore not to tell my parents about it.

We’re almost back to where we were before Noah’s death since she, not unlike Sam and Ruby, also visited me in the hospital daily, but it will still take some time for our friendship to be fully restored.

Now, as for my parents, I’ve decided not to tell them about moving until I’m already settled in Metropolis. If I told them now they’d try to stop me from going because they’re both trying to make things right with me, but I can’t start healing if I don’t get some space.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be able to forgive either of them for what they did to me, especially not my dad, but I can see myself being civil with them in time.

A knock on the door makes me pause and drop the stack of clothes I was just about to put into a box onto the bed.

It’s almost dinner time and Sam was planning on coming over with some pizza, so I think nothing of it when I open the door with a lazy smile, but then I freeze when my eyes land on the one person I’ve been yearning to see for almost a month now.

“Lena,” I whisper, taking in her red nose and the snowflakes in her dark hair.

“Hi.” Her voice is just as quiet as mine, if not even quieter, and when her green eyes meet mine in silent question, I step aside and let her into the apartment.

________________________________________________

I’m sorry it’s a bit short, but the next part (probably the final part) will definitely be longer.

*Not proofread yet

Tag list: @nerethos @orange15quote @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character @nothisismax @wandatasha @likeornella @rosea-reginae @aca-biitch @jujuu23

#x reader #dc universe #lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #supergirl cw #dcu

96 notes · View notes

alexalessandro · 6 months ago

Text

This is for no one but myself (ignore the tags) so feel free to scroll away, but no actually the rat grinders are not like Ragh and Zayn and Aelwyn.

Here’s my essay

First of all, there’s a clear difference between the rat grinders and all the bad kids “villains” turned allies and it’s the coerced factor

If we want to put Zayn datkshadow, Aelwyn aberrant and Ragh Barkrock on a scale of most to least coerced, we would have Zayn up top.

He was literally made to be socially isolated and financially dependent on the bad guys, had his reputation ruined and actively had eyes on him to keep him miserable and alone (jokes on them the acting miserable part was his emo persona mostly)

Then we have Aelwyn abernant, who’s behind Zayn darkshadow simply because she had a lifeline to not be abused which was to be perfect all the time although that’s abuse in and of itself, she was literally coerced from birth into evil “we’re rich so we care about nobody but ourselves and you better not shame our house” bs

Then ragh, ragh is least in the coerced scale but he still had his identity used against him and was actively bullied and blackmailed by his crush after coming out to him

Now the rat grinders.

They. Weren’t. Coerced. Into shit.

Kipperlily copperkettle? The gravest sin her parents made was be boring and scold her for breaking into their computers to look for conspiracies. Her reasons to be manipulated is because she’s mad she’s boring and thinks that trauma gives other people an “unfair advantage” while she actively chose easy adventures to pass. Like she looks like any other annyoing ass white girl you dread to meet that complains about people being on her ass for getting starbucks while the boycott’s going i’m sorry i’m not gonna pity her JUMPING at the opportunity to be manipulated and also actively getting the only person that gave a shit about her killed (Lucy frostblade had multiple assailants)

Like cleric killer killed people in cold blood bot as self defense or to stop apocalypses but cus the bbeg was like hehehe bitch please

She is obviously racist against riz but that’s just my own personal bias

Oisin? Freaking nepo baby with an evil grandma that apparently was bitchy even before the shatter star and might have been an insidious incel the entire time

Ivy suggested fabian wore mazey like a coat and that’s where the skin alive but came from, check the tape

I have weird thoughts about ruben mary ann and buddy, they’re mostly stooges and i would personally put them in the ragh box but also ruben’s death was objectively funny sorry not sorry

All of this to say there’s a difference between my villainy is inflicted upon me or coerced onto me and HECK YEAH MAKE ME FEEL SPECIAL I’LL ABSOLUTELY KILL MY BEST FRIEND FOR U WHEN SHE DOESNT GO ALONG WITH THE PLAN

anyway these have been my ramblings I won’t take criticism

#fhjy #d20 fhjy #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high #d20 #d20 fantasy high #dimension 20 fhjy #fhjy spoilers #rat grinders #bad kids

130 notes · View notes

marimayscarlett · 7 days ago

Note

Americans are going thru it today, is there any way you could bless us with sweet facts about Rammstein and Richard? Thanks for your help, I know I absolutely live for your detailed posts, they're my favorite ❤️❤️

Hi 👋

First of all, my heart goes out to all American citizens who hoped, voted and fought for a different outcome. We live in very surreal and scary times and I just wish you all lots of strength and calmness for your minds 🍀🤍

Now on to some other, hopefully uplifting/interesting enough things to get your mind of things - maybe not all sweet ones, since I grabbed them from the top of my head so to speak and searched for the sources afterward, yet I hope they provide a little bit of distraction:

tiny little fact I love: Richard is actually a proper country boy. Eventhough he was born in the city of Wittenberge, he lived up until he was 7 in the german countryside in the little village of Weisen, which according to Google has 997 inhabitants. "That was a beautiful childhood with alot of nature, cats and dogs and a big family with two siblings."

as the most memorable (or miserable) jobs he ever worked in, Richard listed the following: window cleaner (since he suffers from vertigo), making shoes and selling them, going through an apprentinceship for becoming a cook and cleaning for an old lady who had stuffed poodles in her apartment.

if he could timetravel, Richard would choose to visit the period of the Knights Templar, 11th century, since he feels rather drawn to this history era.

a little fact about Richard and the gifts he gets from fans to his door step I think about regularly with mixed feelings: "I myself got a rose on my doorstep every day for years. Sure, it's nice - you always have roses at home, but there are so many unpleasant feelings involved. For a while, someone always left cigarettes in my mailbox. My brother always had to smoke the first one!"

Richard took singing lessons with a coach who also worked with Mick Jagger. Said coach scolded Richard a lot due to him smoking right before class - in one interview Richard mentioned he was so intimidated by that coach that he was ready to call his parents to pick him up. But he went through with it and worked a lot on his voice, which became quite beneficial for his singing.

Apparently, the idea of the infamous Flake-stew during "Mein Teil" came from Richard, who then actually was less than enthusiastic for his own idea: "I had the idea of Flake being cooked in the pot, then I realized, the first time we actually did it onstage, that it was too convenient, just stupid or not even funny, whatever. So I said, ‘I hate it’. But by that time, the rest of them had done it and loved it…"

The band actually considered various names before they settled for 'Rammstein': Tempelprayers, Mutter (mother), Milch (milk), Erde (earth).

A well known fact or rather, legend, but I think about it a lot: Richard recorded the whistling for 'Engel' it true chaotic composer fashion, namely while he was taking a bath and was struck by creativity. The band apparently didn't manage to record a better version, so his version was used for the song.

some song recommendations by Richard - these were his favourites back in 2009: 'Hurt' by Nine Inch Nails, 'Baby I'm gonna leave you' by Led Zeppelin, 'Sin City' by AC/DC and 'Personal Jesus' by Depeche Mode 🎶

I hope this helped at least a tiny bit! Sending you all the good and cosy vibes you might need 🤲🏼

Have some cuddly R+ guys for emotional support:

Sources: Rockhard magazine wir.sehen.euch rammwiki Emigrate Kerrang rammwiki Rammstein

#rammstein #richard kruspe #ask #us elections

36 notes · View notes

ambrosiagourmet · 9 months ago

Note

I notice no one has asked yet so for the character thing: laios! Or if you want to go for a less common one: the winged lion

Laios!!!!!!

First impression

Honestly its hard to even limit this within the confines of starting the actual manga. I genuinely think I'd have to say my real first impression of Laios was the "autism be damned, my boy can work a grill" joke that gets passed around a lot 😭

Impression now

Older brother.

Loves his friends and family so much. Let him infodump!!!!! A guy that can character arc so hard he becomes a king because its the only way to deal with the things he can no longer let himself look away from. A guy who wants to eat a good meal. A guy who wants everyone to eat a good meal.

A guy who can be all that and still kind of pettily complain that he doesn't get to hang out with monsters anymore & can mope about it soooo annoyingly. A guy who decided to eat the concept of all-consuming hunger because it was the only way to deal with the problem so he might as well try. A guy who can completely change his life by deciding to share his special interest. A guy who can imitate a dog really well.

Favorite moment

Don't make me choooose... okay I'm gonna do three:

1. Assembling Falin's bones with Marcille

The humor. The patience. The slow realization that, despite how absurd of a task it is, it is actually all possible. The moments of admiration for the way skeletons work, the love of the details, the care of assembling all three skeletons just to make sure they get Falin right. Iconic scene.

2. Killing Falin

"Unable to make myself accept. Unable to make myself resist" lives in my soul now idk what else to say. Life is so vibrant and horrifying and raw and beautiful and to let yourself fully be a part of it you must take up space. You must consume. You must fight. You must take and be taken from. Ourgh

3. Talking Marcille down

I love that he looks so goofy on his way up to her. I love the context of how much he refuses to give up on her leading up to this, and how he refuses to give up on her now. I love how everyone is part of this scene, but he's the first one to cross the threshold. I love how she almost blows him up but can't do it (fun fact: this exact situation/post was how she killed Mithrun a couple of chapters ago. It was close).

I love the way he appeals to her mostly just with messy honesty, and I love the silly three rules callback. It's such a sweet chapter.

Also honorary mention for the final page of the story, which gets me every time.

Idea for a story

I'm actually currently fiddling with a longer story concept dealing with the question of Laios needing an heir. Dungeon Meshi is grounded enough in politics that it genuinely feels like a question that the characters will have to grapple with at some point. At the same time, there's no way that like arranged marriage and even having kids in general are not messy topics for Laios and I don't think anyone involved would want to force him to be miserable.

(I also don't personally like the idea of Falin as his heir ftr, bc I think forcing Falin into that role sucks and I don't think anyone would go for it)

So how DO they deal with the issue? Idk! I might write a long meandering story about it! Maybe! I want to, at least.

Unpopular opinion

Ughhhh I don't realllly want to poke this with a stick but yeah I definitely think my most generic (apparently????) Unpopular Opinion with Laios is just that his relationship with Marcille is meaningful and loving. I personally don't view it as romantic and they mean a lot to me as a platonic-life-partners kind of thing, but I also think that dividing relationships in general into Ships TM and Definitely Not Ships isn't really appealing to me personally. I just care them.

(at the same time I really do worry about trying to write about them and it being taken as romantic despite me very intentionally not framing it as such. idk, navigating this stuff is complicated.)

Favorite relationship

UGHHHH LIKE. It is probably him and Marcille. But it's so hard to rank that against him and Falin. Both relationships mean a lot to me and I love them and I love to think about them.

Because him and Marcille have more on the page interactions to dig into and because I don't see them discussed as much, I do tend to gravitate to Marcille & Laios stuff above all else. But like.... don't make me actually commit to picking.

Favorite headcanon

I can't think of a strong answer for this so I'm going to make one up on the spot: I think he giggled to himself soooo much when he included the winged lion in his king outfit but made it so that it looks like the wolf head is eating it. I think he continues to giggle about it years later. I think he gets dressed in the morning and puts on his cloak and goes "get ate, idiot" as he fastens it around his shoulders.

Oh actually for a more genuine headcanon related to the story thing I mentioned above: I think Laios is really good with kids but would be scared of having any of his own. I think he'd have trouble with the classic "I don't want to mess them up the way my dad messed me up" abused kid struggle.

#ask #ask meme #even though I thought of a more notable headcanon im leaving the winged lion one in there bc I like it

109 notes · View notes

lovemyromance · 3 months ago

Text

I think regardless of which side of the ship war you're on, everyone is claiming that "Ofc their development and love story is going to play out more in their book!"

And I think that's a fair statement to make 🤷🏻‍♀️ No Elriel is claiming Elain & Azriel are in love right now (and if they are, they're wrong lmao), I might've seen some Eluciens & Gwynriels claiming their respective couples are in love or whatever - but I am willing to accept that is not the general consensus of those sides.

We often see the "Why would Elain accept a mating bond in a book that's not hers?" Argument from the Elucien side. And Elriels have countered with "Well then why would she reject a bond in a book that's not hers?" but apparently, THAT is too hard to grasp for some anti-Elriels.

I think the real question is: where is the buildup?

Elain & Azriel have undeniable build up on the page. Even if you dismiss all their other small romantic moments in the background (i.e. Hybern rescue, Truthteller, "sit I'll take care of it", garden scenes), they still were about to get NAWSTY with each other in the BC.

And you can call it whatever you want (love/lust/obsession), but you cannot deny that is clear romantic build up. Whether they are endgame or not, nothing will change the fact that Elain willingly chose to kiss the Spymaster, not her mate.

Speaking of the M-word: Also undeniable: Elain & Lucien are mates. Regardless of what happens, that bond situation will have to be addressed at some point in Elain's book.

But so far, that initial "You're my mate" is the only thing that gives us any indication that Elucien is even an option. Nothing I have seen from either of them is giving "mates".

In ACOTAR, it has been very clear with both Feyre & Nesta that their mate/endgame was Rhys/Cassian. How did we know that before they were declared mates officially?

Because the build up. They had clear chemistry on the page. Even when they were avoiding each other, they weren't really avoiding each other. From the moment Feyre met Rhys and thought he was the most beautiful man, to the moment Cassian & Nesta squared off at the dining table - we could see their chemistry and attraction on the page. They left us wanting for more.

If we compare Elucien to these couples - it cannot be said that they are the same. They already know they're mates, so arguably that should be more incentive to get to know a person - but they still avoid each other. All their interactions are described as uncomfortable, forced, or dry as hell. There is no conversation or interaction between them that had me smiling to myself or excited to read more about them.

You can place the blame on Elain all you want. Say that in ACOWAR - she was depressed. In ACOFAS - she was still adjusting to fae life. What's the excuse by ACOSF? She is just quietly miserable in the NC?

If that's the case - isn't that more of a reason to reach out to her non-NC mate? Isn't that more of a reason to want Lucien, over Azriel?

We see Elain ignore Lucien at every turn in ACOSF. We see multiple characters notice how Elain doesn't want him, Elain seems wary of him, Elain avoids him, Elain loses her boldness around him.

How is that build up? Even when SJM writes enemies to lovers, even if there are XYZ things against a pairing, they still have chemistry. That is what is missing in Elucien.

You don't need to wait till Elain's book to see chemistry. They've interacted multiple times and not one of their interactions had me wanting to see more.

Elucien will not fall in love suddenly off page. No one expects that. Elriel will also not fall in love off page.

The difference is, Elriel has shown chemistry. Attraction. Romantic interest.

Elucien has not. You can argue "foreshadowing" all you want but at the end of the day it comes down to Elain & Lucien and how they interact. Do they have any tension or chemistry? No. They just ignore and avoid.

That does not make for a solid foundation for a romance book. People are forgetting these are not standalones, these are spinoffs to ACOTAR. SJM has said herself she started planting clues for Nesta & Elain's stories in ACOFAS itself.

Even when Nesta was not the focus in ACOWAR, she and Cassian still had significant moments. Even before she turned fae, she and Cassian received a bonus chapter in ACOMAF. Their chemistry was undeniable. It was almost exactly like the Elriel BC encounter - but I guess we're not ready for that conversation 🤷🏻‍♀️.

All I am saying is that Elain & Azriel have had proven romantic buildup on the page. You can believe the mating bond will prevail but what is giving you that confidence reading the current text in front of you?

If I open ACOTAR 5 come springtime (lol can u imagine what a dream) - and Elain & Lucien suddenly start interacting and it's interesting and they have chemistry with each other- great. I'm on board.

But until then, they'll never have what Elain & Azriel have. And that's mutual romantic interest.

#elriel #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro elain #elain #antielucien #pro elriel

30 notes · View notes

franklin-nelson-archive · 10 months ago

Text

I always say that Foggy has such an interesting backstory as his vigilante friend. And I'm not just exaggerating here.

See, Matt was abandoned by his mother. His father died tragically. He learned from an early age not to trust anyone. Netflix's Matt lived in poverty and this makes Matt's life both heartbreaking and even more tragic. I think all of this was necessary to show the fans how miserable that man could be. Most fans feel sorry for Matt, as if the man were some kind of puppy. I caught myself thinking that way when I watched some of his scenes. That sad, crumpled look of his… Anyway, Netflix's Matt became a martyr from his early childhood.

Foggy, on the other hand, has low self-esteem. The result, I believe, of years of abuse and neglect by a mother who chose a lucrative career over her son.

He grew up in a loving home, apparently. In some issues, we can see Anna being a loving and overprotective mother.

In the Netflix series, Foggy's family, especially his mother, is a little… how can I say, toxic, using a little emotional blackmail to get her son to stay and take care of the family business.

All those scenes of Foggy with his family made me feel bad for him.

And I would really like his family to value him as the special human being that he is, which I didn't feel in the series. Maybe that's what made the series so special for me, the fact that I felt a little Foggy in a place, a family that you love, but that you feel like you don't belong to.

I would really like to see Rosalind on screen. I'd like to know why Foggy decided to become a lawyer. I would love to know why he, even though he is brilliant, loving, a great person, has such low self- esteem.

Even more so, I would like to know why he, in the third season, pretended to be strong, when it was totally acceptable to break down.

Some things I'm afraid of and believe I'll never see. But I hope that one day, in a comic or even in a series, we'll see a little of what it's like to be Foggy. Not just the vigilante's friend, but the hero who beat cancer and fought bravely for what he believes in and loves.

#foggy nelson #daredevil #daredevil comics #elden henson #comic daredevil #netflix daredevil #foggy #foggynelson #my thoughts #im just rambling #matt murdock #comics #daredevil comic #daredevil netflix #marvel comics #foggysroom #foggy my beloved #you deserve the world

69 notes · View notes

pascaloverx · 2 months ago

Text

To Begin Again

PART ONE — FINAL CHAPTER

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. So dear readers, I’ll be splitting this fanfic into two parts; the first part will end in this chapter, and then there will be a time jump before the second part begins. I hope you’ll continue following the story!

SEVENTEEN PART TWO

Slowly, you made your way to meet your father. He had been arrested shortly after it was proven that he was the mastermind behind the crimes committed at Hogwarts in the past month. Honestly, you wanted nothing more than to kill him with your bare hands. But there would be no justice for his victims if you did. On the same day you went to visit your father in prison, his victims were being buried. That fact made you even angrier with him. Harry cried for a long time, watching his parents and sister be laid to rest. The boy’s grief couldn’t be fully eased, as the bodies of his family were too burned for a proper funeral. Sirius and Lupin made sure Harry felt loved by those around him. Hermione and Ron did their best to comfort him. Draco, however, refused to attend his mother's funeral. He said he wanted to remember her as beautiful and smiling. You understood that this was his choice, but you advised him to say goodbye. He assured you that he would visit her grave when he was ready.

“What do I owe the displeasure of your visit, ungrateful daughter? If you've come here to tell your old father that you hate him deeply, keep your words; I have no remorse for the things I've done.” Grindelwald says as you arrive in front of his cell. A filthy, cold, and dark cell. The kind of place he must be hating to be in. You smile with satisfaction at seeing him looking so miserable.

"I didn’t come here to please you in any way, murderous father. In fact, I came to tell you firsthand that your plans, all of them, have fallen apart. The great Gellert Grindelwald, failed even in the smallest details of his filthy scheme to take Hogwarts for himself. And I feel it’s my duty as your daughter to inform you of that." You say, slowly approaching the bars of your father’s cell. A wicked smile spreads across your face as you watch him grow uncomfortable. He always hated failure, and now...

"I'll start by telling you that all of your accomplices are in prison. Except, of course, for Snape, who had the decency to hand over all the evidence of the crimes you and your gang committed. His end was death, but the rest of the idiots who followed you are locked up. Lucius was in London, so he's imprisoned elsewhere. Bellatrix and Pettigrew tried to flee the country, and they're being held in a different place as well. But soon, the four of you will reunite in Azkaban—a reunion that will apparently last quite a long time, perhaps for the rest of your life. Which is nowhere near the price you owe for what you did to my students, their families, and the only man who ever loved you, even though you were an arrogant fool." In this last part, your hands shake the bars of the cell as your voice rises. Your gaze turns almost animalistic, as if the rage and resentment for your father's actions are consuming you, which only makes him laugh. The bastard thinks he can still laugh after everything he's done.

“He loved the fantasy of me. The poor fool was bound to a Grindewald who is no longer what I am. I had to give up everything precious to me years ago because of you, you little wretch. I should have been the headmaster of Hogwarts, the most influential person in London. I would have turned Hogwarts into a damned empire. But twenty-five years ago, Dumbledore decided to take a break from our relationship because he thought it was wrong, which led me to have vengeful sex with your mother. I was inexperienced at the time, so I got her pregnant. Just one time with that insufferable woman was enough to destroy everything I wanted to build. I had to take responsibility for you, which distracted me from becoming the man with enough influence to one day be the headmaster of that school. And when I finally find my way back to reclaim what I lost, you—your little whore—destroy everything once again.” Your father is unrecognizable, finally revealing his true nature. The depth of his contempt for you is overwhelming, and though it leaves you uncomfortable, it shouldn't be a surprise. After all, he allowed harm to come to you in the name of this chaotic plan he called his path to power. His words, dripping with hatred, only confirm what you had always feared—that to him, you were nothing more than a pawn, another obstacle in his twisted ambitions.Now, standing before him, the weight of his betrayal and cruelty sinks in even deeper.

"You want to blame everyone around you for your mistakes, except yourself. What a great man you are, my beloved father. But I don't care about your hateful words. I just came to let you know that everything you've done has failed." Your voice echoes off the walls of the cell, firm and laced with controlled bitterness.

"The boys, the children you orphaned, will be well taken care of. Narcissa left the custody of her son to me, which is surprising, but I will fix the mess you've made." You see a flicker of irritation cross his face, but you don't give him a chance to interrupt. "As for Harry, he's in the care of Lupin and Sirius. Sirius has been legally appointed as his guardian, something the Potters had settled in their will before they died. He has the family you tried to destroy." When you mention Dumbledore, your father takes a deep breath, as if bracing for the pain in your words.

"And as for Dumbledore," you pause, looking at him with a mixture of disgust and triumph, "he intends to keep his position at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to visit you. He sent a message saying you are his greatest regret." The words seem to cut deeper than you expected. For the first time, your father remains silent, his face twisted in a blend of anger and humiliation.

"If you're done trying to gloat, you can leave and live your little fairy tale ending," your father sneers, his tone dripping with disdain. "But I should inform you, Regulus Black hasn’t been mentioned among those facing the consequences that we 'criminals' are to endure. And with him untouched, you can rest assured that my plans will continue to echo." His voice takes on a menacing tone that sends a chill down your spine. You notice his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction, and a chilling, almost predatory smile spreads across his face. Slowly, he retreats into the shadows of his cell, his figure blending into the darkness. His final words hang in the cold air like a lingering curse, leaving you shaken as the confrontation comes to a haunting end.

As you step out of the prison, the weight of your father’s final threat clings to you, a dark cloud following your every thought. If Regulus truly is involved in your father's twisted plans, there’s no guarantee of safety—for you or for the boys. This realization only solidifies your decision to leave, knowing it’s the best course of action to protect them and yourself.

You take a taxi straight to Hogwarts, your mind heavy with thoughts of the goodbyes you must say and the uncertain road ahead. There’s an odd mix of sadness and relief as you approach the school for what you know will be the last time. Draco, who has surprisingly embraced the idea of leaving with you, should be just about done packing by now. His sudden enthusiasm for the departure makes sense, given everything he’s endured: his father’s imprisonment, his mother’s tragic death. He’s ready for a change, for a fresh start—just like you. As you arrive, you can’t help but feel the finality of it all. Soon, you’ll leave this place behind.

"Don’t you plan to say goodbye?" Lupin asks as he approaches you, almost running. He has a faint smile on his face, trying to stay strong after everything that has happened. His body bears numerous injuries, slowly recovering from the motorcycle accident he endured the night everything changed—the night Harry's parents died and the rest of you were kidnapped.

"I didn’t know you were here. I figured you’d be resting after the funeral. I know this must be a tiring time for you," you say as you walk toward your future former room. Lupin follows, trying to keep up with your hurried steps. The truth is, you’re trying to avoid confronting Remus, fearing he might blame you as Sirius did.

"You’ve been avoiding me for a while, but I hope you don’t think you can leave without saying goodbye. We have a connection, for God’s sake, I can feel you’re suffering. I don’t understand why you won’t come to me to talk. I can help you…” Lupin stops in front of you, making you halt. Looking into his eyes, which are welling up with tears, you can sense his hurt. This werewolf bond is a curse.

"No one can help me, dear. I’m the daughter of a cruel monster who brought disaster into many lives, including yours. I don’t want you to force yourself not to hate me because you’re a good person. You can and should feel anger towards me, towards my father, even towards my future generations if you want." You say, trying to numb your emotions so Lupin doesn’t feel the need to pity you.

"Your relatives are not you; their actions shouldn’t fall on you. What Sirius did or said wasn’t right. He was under pressure, acted impulsively. I’m not making excuses for him. You should be angry for being insulted for being someone’s child. And I’m sorry about Draco. Sirius has been different since Lily and James died. I think what keeps him sane is Harry." Lupin says, moving closer to you, holding your hands and looking into your eyes.

"I'm leaving, Lupin. There’s nothing I can say or do that will erase the pain caused by my father. I can’t look at half the faces I see here, or hear what they say about me and the murders," you confess. After a brief pause, you start to cry, recalling the memories of those who have passed.

"I see their faces every night. Lily and James burning in front of me. I see the face of their daughter, a beautiful baby. I remember Narcissa, asking me to take care of her son. All of this surrounds me. As long as I stay here, in this same place, what happened to all of us will haunt me." You're crying, your voice choked with pain and suffering. You didn't want to reveal your emotions so openly, but you couldn't control yourself. Lupin hugs you, providing a comforting sensation that fills your heart. You cry on Lupin's shoulders as he holds you tightly.

"I don’t care about that, I hope you know," Lupin says softly. "You hold a very special place in my heart, Y/N. I never thought I could feel the way you make me feel. I know I love Sirius and Harry deeply, just as I loved Lily and James. But you… ever since I made you like me, I feel as though you're a part of me." His voice breaks slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions. "Knowing you're hurting, that you're carrying this burden, it destroys me." As his arms release you, Lupin gently cups your face in his hands, and you know exactly what he means. This connection between the two of you, however painful, has entwined your hearts in a way that feels as if they beat as one—however cliché that might sound. Before you realize it, your lips meet his. It's the last kiss between two unfortunate werewolves, whose lives have been filled with more tragedy than joy. The kiss is tender, careful, and full of unspoken affection. The sweetness of Lupin's lips lingers, and for a fleeting moment, you find solace. As your lips part, your foreheads touch, and for this one final time, a fragile peace settles in your heart.

"I’ll miss you. So please, take care of yourself. Take care of Harry and Black too. You all deserve a fresh start," you say softly, pressing a kiss to Lupin’s cheek. This is your farewell. Without giving him the chance to respond, you step away, distancing yourself from the weight of his gaze. With hurried steps, you head toward your room, knowing that there’s little time left before you and Draco must leave. You still need to gather your things and check if he’s ready. Your flight leaves in a few hours, and you both need to move quickly. Your mother has already agreed to host you both until you find a place to settle down in the United States. Officially, Draco is now a part of your family.

"Your arrival was sudden, and your departure will be just as stealthy. It suits you well..." Sirius mutters from behind you as you finish gathering your bags. When you turn to face him, he’s leaning against the doorframe of your room, his arms crossed and eyes dark with an emotion you can’t quite place. Your gaze hardens, nearly lethal, but you take a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily to avoid doing something reckless. The last things he said to you and Draco were nothing short of horrendous, and the weight of those words still lingers heavily in the air.

"Even so, I am not fortunate enough to come and go without the displeasure of your company," you say, your voice sharp as you lift the last of your bags. "Do not mistake the open door as an invitation to step in here with your dark thoughts and twisted feelings. From you, Mr. Black, I want the greatest distance possible. Since the very beginning, you've treated me as if I meant nothing. And if you're here to hurl more insults, go to hell. I have no time to be the person you throw all your frustrations at." You push the last of your belongings outside your room, joining the rest of your things in preparation for your departure. Sirius remains standing in the doorway, though he refrains from physically blocking your way. There's a strange tension in the air, his presence thick with unspoken words, but you’ve already made up your mind—there’s no space for him in the life you’re about to embark on.

"I heard that Narcissa left you a small fortune in exchange for taking care of her son. I just wanted to confirm that you are the kind of person so easily manipulated and dazzled. I wonder if you also sold yourself to your father. Perhaps you took part in his plans, which would justify Narcissa leaving her cub with you. So tell me, how much were you paid to let my friends burn alive, or to pretend to be a victim while torturing me and my godson?" As soon as Sirius finishes speaking, your hand lands on his face. A slap he had been deserving since the last time he spoke harshly to you.

"I won't ask how you dare to accuse me of something so vile, because it's obvious what's happening here. You're looking for people to blame for the mistakes made by a small group of evil individuals. You want to blame me because that's what you've been doing since the beginning of all this. If you want to believe I'm involved, then believe whatever you want. But when you realize you're wasting your time and sanity pointing fingers at everyone around you, remember that your godson needs you. Harry needs a sane man looking after him, so get yourself together. And be glad I'm leaving, because one more moment in your presence and I'd be joining my father in prison." You speak, too irritated but trying not to lower yourself. Your eyes meet Sirius' gaze, and he looks worn out. Up close, you notice his dark circles, a slight scent of alcohol, and his unshaven face. He's neglecting himself.

"I'm very glad you're leaving. Very glad, indeed. Our lives will be much better without you and that little blonde villain around here. And don't worry about Harry; he's far from being any of your concern," Sirius says, stepping closer until he's right in front of you. The smell of alcohol becomes stronger as the distance between you narrows. For a moment, you both just stare at each other in silence. Then, suddenly, Sirius kisses you. The kiss is rough, almost aggressive. It's impatient too. In reality, the kiss between you is an absolute mess.

"We shouldn't be doing this. You hate me now, remember?" you say, pulling your lips away from his. You know you shouldn't have kissed him, but it's as if Black is intoxicating. Fortunately for both of you, being in different countries will help you detox from him.

"I hate you immensely. Be sure of that while you’re running away, trying to erase us from your memory," Sirius says with a hint of disdain, stepping back from you. Before you can say anything, he’s already gone, retreating into his room and locking the door behind him. A coward.

As you carry your two suitcases through nearly all of Hogwarts to the taxi's trunk, you mentally say goodbye to the corridors of the place that has been like home for a while. When you're done, you head to the students' dormitories to find Draco. It's time to leave, finally.

"Well, I don't know about your financial conditions, Weasley, but I think you should accept this small act of solidarity. It's not every day someone gives a limited edition Gucci shoe to their tormentor, so accept it with gratitude. Unfortunately for you, Hermione, I'll only leave you a Prada that I received from my father when my first tooth fell out. I think it will serve you well, but if it doesn’t, sell it. It will give you a nice little nest egg. As for you, Potter, I'll leave you this cash. It's not much, but if you ever find yourself in need and decide to visit Miss Y/L/N in the United States, I know you'll need money for the tickets. If possible, take Lupin with you; I couldn't stand hearing my cousin complain for even another second." Malfoy distributes farewell gifts like an early Santa Claus. He has a smug smile on his face while the other kids look somewhat offended. It seems Draco has also gifted his friends—Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy—with sophisticated clothes matching the ones he's wearing now.

"Shouldn't it be us giving you a farewell gift?" Harry asks, looking confused.

"We're not giving any presents to Malfoy, so you can forget about it," Weasley says loudly, already getting exasperated, while Hermione tries to calm him by placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a disapproving look.

"I think we should show gratitude for Malfoy's kindness, even if it's unnecessary and lacks any apparent explanation," Hermione says, looking at Malfoy with an understanding expression but with a forced smile.

"You're so annoying, I won't miss this kind of conversation in the future. But you don’t need to worry about being grateful. These gifts are actually me getting rid of some things that didn’t fit in my luggage. Except for Harry’s, of course. But that's because when we were imprisoned, he told me he was afraid his life would change completely. Since I noticed Black is losing his mind, I thought if he ever wanted to be close to Miss Y/L/N to take a break from you, he’d need some money," Draco explains, somewhat irritated by the interrogation from the children. Before you can go to the dormitory to get Draco, you see Harry approach Malfoy and hug him. Not a false or distant hug, but a real, tight one.

"Thank you, Malfoy. The gifts were thoughtful, and we’ve been rude. But I want to make it clear that I do have money," Harry says while hugging Draco, who soon pulls away, looking seriously at Potter.

"Malfoy, we need to go. Say your goodbyes," you say, surprising all the children. Draco grabs his bags and hands them to you. You then murmur that he should put the bags in the taxi at the entrance of Hogwarts. Draco turns to his former enemies and says a brief farewell. Draco then insists that his friends help with the luggage, and they immediately assist him. In the dormitory, only you, Harry, Hermione, and Ron remain. Hermione and Ron seem uncomfortable with your presence, likely blaming you as well. But Harry smiles at you, genuinely. He comes over and hugs you.

"Professor, I don't want to blame you. But I'm grateful that you saved me from that place where we were trapped. I'll keep your secret, too," Harry murmurs, still hugging you.

"I'm sorry, Harry; for everything. You deserved more than this." You say, gently stroking Harry's head with your fingers.

"You deserved it too, professor." The sadness in Harry's voice touches you deeply. You hope that he can have a good life despite all the trauma he's experienced. There's nothing more you can say at the moment to comfort him. So, as you and Harry part ways from the embrace, you set off toward a new life and a fresh opportunity.

END OF THE FIRST PART

Preview of the Second Part of the Fanfic

Four years later, you are arriving home with groceries, preparing to make Draco's favorite lasagna; he should be coming home soon. He just got his driver's license. As you approach your house, you spot a brown-haired boy with glasses, not believing that it could be who you think it is.

"Harry Potter, what the hell are you doing here?" you exclaim. Despite what you say, you're not angry, but rather pleasantly surprised. You quickly go over to hug Harry. He immediately embraces you, trying to help you keep from dropping the grocery bags.

"Extreme times call for extreme measures. That and bringing you personally the invitation to your wedding," Harry says, his voice sounding deeper. He's grown up so quickly. But you're concerned about the tone of his voice.

"Why are we in extreme times, and who is getting married? I hope it’s not you. If you want, you can stay with us. You don't have to get married; in fact, I encourage you to run away from any marriage," you say, reassuring him that he can find a home and refuge if needed. For heaven's sake, what have Lupin and Black been letting this boy do? Now that he's so close to you, you notice that he seems tired and thinner.

"Sirius was arrested, and I didn't want to disturb Lupin. In fact, Lupin is the one getting married. And it won’t be to Sirius; he's marrying his new girlfriend, Nymphadora Tonks. Lupin asked me to mail the invitation, but since my godfather got into trouble, I thought I’d come in person. It was quite a trip, and I’ll tell you all about it on the way back to Hogwarts. What do you think?" Harry looks at you with a pleading expression, as if he’s feeling lost without you. You’re left confused by the many pieces of information.

"Step-mom, you won’t believe what happened. Professor Lewis dared to give me a bad grade on that video we made dancing to 'Wannabe.' He said it wasn’t artistic enough," Draco says, still not noticing Harry. "What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" Malfoy exclaims, surprised to see Harry for the first time in four years. Harry looks a bit uneasy, while Draco appears angry.

"Hey, Malfoy. I know you're angry with me. Your last message made that pretty clear, but this is bigger than both of us. I need you and Miss Y/L/N to go back to Hogwarts," Harry says, almost sounding guilty about something, which makes you wonder if he and Draco have some unresolved emotional issues going on.

"I don't know what you think you're doing here, but leave. We're not going with you, not even to the corner. Stepmother, I'll wait for you inside," Draco says, all pompous, as if he's too proud to show how glad he is to see Potter. Malfoy goes into the house, and you look at Potter with a lot of compassion.

"Dear, let's go inside. I'll make lasagna. Fortunately, Draco and I will be on vacation for the next few weeks. I'll help you with Sirius and try to give you a chance to improve your situation with Malfoy. Now, let's go in," you say, seeing Harry beam with happiness at your words. It seems that after four years, it's time to return to Hogwarts.

27 notes · View notes

opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year ago

Text

...

#hmmm. was just looking at the results of my bloodtest from earlier this week and im all normal apparently #so my thyroid isnt fucked and the hypomanic episodes r in fact just coming from my brain as expected #and the doctor did slap me with a bipolar II diagnosis. which is still find dubious. but also he would have to i guess in order to #prescribe me an antipsychotic but like. sounds like a thing that would increase my insurance rates lol #whatever. i just find the idea of me being bipolar to be so wild. i mean like yes. i guess technically if u look at the word bipolar #unipolar would b a depressed and normal mood range. and bipolar would b depressed and elevated mood #and yes ive spent a lot of my life being rather depressed. sometimes treding near the point of not being able to function #but like usually its not that bad and im so anxious i cant just not function. the ocd keeps me afloat lmao #and yes i have these infrequent little peaks of high energy and even more infrequent instances of elevated mood #so i guess yes that does count as a bipolar mood profile. but is the underlying cause bipolar disorder or is it that i make myself so #miserable with my compulsive behavior that it sends me into spirals of depression or overheats my brain into fits of hypomania #i suppose it doesnt really matter if the presentation is still on thr spectrum #idk i guess i just find it annoying not to fit cleanly into a box. im more a: the spectrum of human experience type person #i guess its better to struggle a lil bit with a number of things than b all consumed by one single thing #i mean. im a lil all consumed by the compulsive behavior. but again its not exactly thr classic presentation of ocd. which i find #frustrating bc i like to characterize and understand things. ugh #well see what the psychologist has to say when i show her my insane mood tracking figures #lol last time she told me to track my anxiety but not make a chart abt it. and i was like god dammit shes onto me #listen. i do research. i like data 🙄#unrelated #also the docor i saw was like yea its joy normal to get 3hrs of sleep and not b tired #how abt a week of 5-6hrs of sleep and not being tired??? how bout that?#also not good fyi. i csn feel my brain fraying #me: shut up im normal. also me not sleeping and getting increasingly unhinged #ive got 1tachi levek eye bags 😭#also i kno its a thing they have to ask but everytime i start describing how i would charactize my intrusive thoughts doctors go:#hm. do u even hear voices telling u do do these thing? and its like no theyre my thoughts but also they feel like they come from outside #of my body. which when i say it sounds crazy but like idk how else to say it. its like theyre projected into my head but i kno it comes #from me. ya kno?

6 notes · View notes

altf4d3lete · 8 months ago

Text

Snippet of a wenclair oneshot I’m working on (a 5 + 1 because I can’t keep anything to myself)

“Haven’t you ever cried before, or are you above that, too?”

Wednesday thought about what Enid had said long and hard. She had three options here. She could leave, which would be the easiest. Pick up her cello and go back inside, leave Enid to deal with her issues on her own. Wednesday would forget that she ever saw Enid crying. She wouldn’t mention it at all. They’d go back to their arguing and petty rivalry that they’d been keeping up since they met. And honestly, that sounded pretty tempting right about now. Or, she could stay and just offer someone to cry with. Which would be miserable, frankly, having to listen to Enid’s sobs for however long the girl would be crying. Not to mention the potential for things to change once Wednesday showed her even a bit of kindness.

The final option was to share something with Enid that no one else knew about except for her family. Something that might make Enid feel the slightest bit better, like she wasn’t alone. But it would change everything between them. Gone would be the rivalry they’d developed, replaced with something akin to friendship. Something that Wednesday Addams had no clue how to navigate. Was she really willing to put herself through that for a girl she had just met a few days ago?

Apparently, the answer was yes. Wednesday didn’t know why, but she started talking about her late pet scorpion, Nero. She talked about how she had been forced to watch him die. How she had cried over his grave when she was six. Almost ten years ago. That was the last time she had ever cried. But the point was that she had done it. She had cried. She knew what it felt like. She knew what Enid was feeling.

#wenclair #wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #netflix #wednesday x enid #enid x wednesday #lgbtq #wlw #writers on tumblr #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #wednesday fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #ao3 writer #writerscommunity

51 notes · View notes

in-the-shadow-of-the-blog · 1 year ago

Text

In the Shadow of Courtship

Summary: Sebastian gets a glimpse of MC's social life outside of Hogwarts, but he doesn't like what he sees. (Sebastian Sallow x f!MC)

Rating: PG

Warnings: Jealousy and light swearing.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Despite my best efforts, I’m sure there are some historical inaccuracies in this one. Sebastian being jealous of muggle courtship is my new favorite thing, apparently.

—

Sebastian had re-read her last letter dozens of times, but he kept coming back to one part of it.

My parents insisted on throwing a ball to celebrate my brother’s engagement. Before Hogwarts, I would have been excited at the prospect, but now it just sounds boring and miserable. I would rather be in the highlands doing, well, anything else.

Something in her words made him decide it was time to pay a visit, which is how he know found himself standing outside her house. And Merlin’s Beard, what a house it was. She had mentioned her family being well-off in passing, but the grand house in front of him was more than he expected. Surely the fancy building in front of him was not where his practical, down to earth MC lived.

But there was no mistaking it. It was exactly where she had described, and Sebastian heard music coming from within the house.

The disillusionment charm let him hide among the bushes easily, even if he felt a little foolish sneaking around. If Sebastian was honest with himself, though, he had come for one reason, and that was to spy. He wanted to see what this muggle ball looked like; he wanted to see what MC was like when she was at home with her muggle parents.

He snuck around the side of the house, finding himself below a narrow window. The window was open, feminine voices traveling on the warm evening air.

“If Mr. Royce wishes to dance with you, then you should let him.” The voice was not unlike MC’s, but more mature.

“I don’t wish to lead him on. We’ve talked about where my future lies.”

“Darling, you have a whole world of opportunities I never had, and I am thrilled for you. But until you are settled, properly settled, I think you should keep all your options open. Anything could happen before you come of age, and I couldn’t forgive myself if I allowed you to let any chance at happiness slip through your fingers.”

MC huffed. “But mother-“

“My dear, he isn’t going to ask you to marry him tonight. Simply make sure you don’t give him a reason to cast his eye elsewhere. Just enjoy a pleasant evening with a handsome man and leave it at that.”

“Yes, mother.” He frowned at the defeat in MC’s voice. That wasn’t the MC he knew at all. If this was how she had to behave at home, no wonder she preferred life at Hogwarts.

“There’s that beautiful smile. Come, we should join the party before our absence is noticed,” said MC’s mother.

The room fell quiet.

Sebastian followed the side of the building led by the muffled sound of music striking up. He came to a row of large windows facing a wide yard. Though none of the windows were open, the noise on the other side made it evident where the event was shrine held. Slowly, Sebastian raised his head to peek through the window.

Couples filled the ballroom, dancing in synchrony with the music. There were just as many people around the perimeter of the room, watching the dancers glide across the floor. There was only one person Sebastian wanted to see, and he felt his chest tighten the moment he finally laid eyes on her.

MC had said in her letter that she wasn’t interested in the ball, that the thought of it filled her with misery. She had just said as much to her mother. She certainly didn’t look miserable to Sebastian.

Dark brown hair and a dashing smile, belonging to her dance partner, held her rapt attention. The handsome muggle led her through the waltz, twirling her around the room. MC wore a peaceful smile, laughing and talking with him as they moved among the other dancers.

“You must be Mr. Royce,” Sebastian growled under his breath. His fists clenched at his sides. That should be him in there, dancing with MC. Holding her like that. Making her laugh. Someone who could appreciate her fully.

And appreciate her, Sebastian did. Even though his rage at the muggle pawing at his girl, he noticed every detail about MC. The fabric and trim of her dress matched her house colors, complimenting ribbons pinned in her hair. Sebastian eyed the silver and emerald necklace sitting at her throat, catching the light as she danced. Of course Royce would be falling over himself for her attention; she was radiant.

The dance ended, and Royce escorted MC away. He guided her by the arm, gently tugging her in the other direction when someone else moved to approach them.

Selfish arse. Probably doesn’t even know what her favorite treats are. Or her favorite muggle books. You don’t deserve her.

For the first time in a very long time, the word of a spell danced on the tip of his tongue. Something he promised never to speak again. Conjuring an image of Royce on the floor, writhing in pain.

Sebastian closed his eyes, pushing the thought from his mind. She wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t want you to do that.

The band was already striking up a song for the next dance. Sebastian couldn’t stomach watching any more of the ball, to see her in the arms of someone who didn’t know her like he did. But instead of apparate home, he wandered around the perimeter of the house, lost in thought.

Maybe he didn’t know MC as well as he thought. He’d heard her mother say it; she would play them both until she secured the better offer. Well, Sebastian certainly couldn’t give her what Royce could, with his muggle money and impressive dance skills. The life MC was accustomed to could not be found in the highlands, in Feldcroft, with him.

But what hurt Sebastian the most was the thought that he deserved to feel this way. Because he didn’t deserve MC, not after what he’s done. He tried to, Merlin knows, but he just wasn’t good enough for her. He never would be. She deserved to be happy, and the cold truth that he might not be the one to do that settled in the pit of his stomach like stone.

So he found himself in the side yard, glaring at a trellis of roses whose buds were closed to the night air. Hidden in the shadows, Sebastian stewed in his dark thoughts, sinking into the depths where he belonged. He didn’t notice when the door opened and someone stepped out into the yard behind him.

But the sigh got his attention.

He turned to see her leaning against the door through which she had exited. Her face was shadowed, barely lit from the light escaping from the windows and the moon rising overhead. But he would know her anywhere, from the shape of her body to the tilt of her head, but especially that sigh.

“MC?” He asked, stepping forward into the half light of the yard.

MC covered her mouth, swallowing a yelp of surprise. “Sebastian! What are you doing here?”

Her heart leapt at the sight of him, and for a moment she thought he was a conjugation of her imagination. Merlin knew she had been employing it all night, imagining Sebastian freckled features in place of Royce’s condescending smile.

Then he spoke.

“Never seen a muggle ball. Thought I’d see what’s so boring about them. Though, doesn’t seem boring to me.”

She stiffened at the bite in his voice. “Is something the matter?”

Sebastian folded his arms. “Of course not. Why would something be wrong? Looks like everyone is having a wonderful time.”

Not here to ask for a dance, then. She stepped toward, mirroring his crossed arms. “Well something’s clearly gotten into you. You come all this way, without even telling me, just to skulk in the shadows? Talk to me.”

“Coming here was a mistake, MC.” He couldn’t look her in the eye. “I’ll let you get back to your charming gentleman friend.”

Her hand was circling his wrist before he saw her move. “Sebastian, you aren’t going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Fine!” Sebastian hissed, wrenching out her grasp. He couldn’t stand the feel of her touch, not right now. “What’s wrong is that I learned you’ve been stringing me along all year, and then you come home to your real boyfriend over the summer. I never thought you capable of such disloyalty.”

MC recoiled as if he had struck her. With the hurt in her eyes, he may as well have. “How could you say that? After everything over the last two years. How dare you.”

“Well what else am I supposed to think?” Instead of angry, his voice was soft with defeat. “You said you would be bored and yet here you are, in the arms of another man.”

She answered with a scoff. “Just because I have to dance with someone to keep up appearances doesn’t mean I’m enjoying it.”

“You looked pretty happy to me.”

MC’s fingers itched with the need to slap him. How else could get some sense into his thick head? “Sebastian Sallow, either you’re an idiot or you need to get your eyes checked. “Happy” is the very last word I would use to describe myself tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Really. Because I missed you.” MC sniffed. “At least I thought I did. If you’ve only come here to level hurtful accusations at me, then you should leave.”

MC grabbed his wrist again and turned his hand palm up. Fingers trembling, she unclasped the silver and emerald necklace and dropped it into his hand. “You can take that with you.”

“What’s this?”

“A gift from my brother. He gave it to me when I came home with your scarf, something I could wear that wouldn’t draw the same attention.” She clicked her tongue. “I don’t think I need it anymore.”

Sebastian looked down at the necklace sitting in his palm, then back at MC. She was smoothing her dress, trying to regain her composure after their bitter argument. All she really wanted was to go to her room, but her family would never forgive her for such a display. She looked at Sebastian, narrowing her eyes at him one more time before schooling her features into the mask of serenity she would need inside.

Realization struck Sebastian like lightning. He really had to be the biggest idiot in all of Britain. He should have seen it the whole time.

He should have seen that the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Noticed that her face was devoid of the many emotions he had seen cross it so many times. Realized that her eyes held a faraway look as she dreamed of the many other things she would rather be doing, places she would rather be. Sebastian bet he could name them all.

Royce would never know the real MC. Not like he did. Royce would never call her his own. Not like Sebastian could.

If he hadn’t just lost her forever.

“MC, wait.”

She stopped, hand on the doorknob, stiffly waiting for him to continue.

“You’re right. I’m being stupid.”

“Come round, have you?” She snapped.

He stepped closer. “I’m sorry. I never should have said those things. I can’t believe I ever thought them in the first place.” He swallowed. “It’s just…”

MC looked at him over her shoulder. “Just what?”

“I’m so scared to lose you.”

The words hung in the air between them. Sebastian took a breath, feeling a weight lifting from his chest with his admission. That was the truth of it; he had already lost so many people he cared about. Some of that loss was his own fault, and he lived with his regret every day. He couldn’t bear it if he lost MC, too.

She was in front of him now. “Then don’t push me away,” he said quietly. “Or have you never heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

His next breath was shaky. “I know I don’t deserve any more forgiveness from you, but I’ll ask for it anyway.”

MC couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “I could be convinced.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Turn around,” he whispered.

The emerald pendant whispered along her skin as Sebastian replaced the necklace. His fingers danced over her neck, lingering as he secured the clasp. She was grateful for the darkness to hide the flush that followed.

When he finished, she turned to look at him again, their eyes meeting properly for the first time that night. Sebastian held her hands in his, pulling her close. “I just don’t want you to forget about me when we’re apart.”

“Sebastian, I could never.”

“I know. I never should have doubted you.”

His thumb traced the curve of her mouth before his lips found hers. His fingered the material of her dress over hips, suddenly consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to take it off her. Sebastian broke the kiss, then, worried about getting carried away.

“You’re all I think about when I’m away from Hogwarts,” she whispered. “All I dream about.”

Maybe there was nothing wrong with getting carried away.

Her fingers twined in Sebastian’s hair as he kissed her neck, the silver chain of the necklace scraping his lips. MC moaned in his ear and he pulled her tight against him.

“What’s going on out here?” Mrs. MC’s voice hissed from the doorway. MC and Sebastian jumped apart. “Get inside before your father sees you!”

MC looked sheepishly at her mother. Certainly not how I intended them to meet. She trailed her thumb along the column of Sebastian’s neck. “I’ll write you. Tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait,” he whispered.

MC kissed him on the cheek, stopping for one last, longing look in his eyes. Her mother’s impatient sigh quickened her steps back into the house, but not before she glanced back at him one more time, tasting him on her lips.

Before closing the door, Mrs. MC swept outside, staring down at him. “You must be the young man she keeps going on about. Sebastian, isn’t it?”

It was incredible how much MC resembled her, and he had to admit Mrs. MC was still quite beautiful. He wondered if this was a glimpse at what growing old with MC would be like. “Yes, ma’am.” Sebastian stumbled over the words.

Best interests in mind or not, Sebastian reminded himself that she was still the reason MC was dancing with a man who couldn’t make her happy. He licked his lips nervously, remembering their kiss. He’ll never get to kiss her like that. He’s probably rubbish at it, anyway.

“MC doesn’t tell me much about what happens at school. Is she truly happy there? Is she doing all right?”

He wouldn’t have tried to keep the adoration from his voice even if he thought himself capable of it. “She loves it there. And she’s brilliant, there’s nothing MC can’t do.”

“Is she safe?”

Sebastian faltered. He couldn’t tell her the whole truth. She certainly wouldn’t let her daughter return to Hogwarts if she knew about all the poachers and bandits. Not to mention all the trouble MC liked to get herself into. He settled for the truest answer he could think of. “There’s nowhere safer than Hogwarts.”

Mrs. MC nodded once, seeming satisfied with his answer. “You’ll look after her, won’t you? And her other friends, she does have other friends?”

“Of course, Mrs. MC.”

The woman lay a hand on his shoulder, and Sebastian stiffened at the motherly gesture. “I’m sorry you can’t stay. I would have liked to know you better.”

Sebastian nodded, taking her hint. Now, he didn’t mind going home. He felt safe in the knowledge that, while someone else might be on her dance card, he would always be the one in her dreams.

Masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fic

157 notes · View notes

lovemesomeeddiemunson · 1 year ago

Text

Prom Date

Summary: Prom is coming and you want nothing more than to go. A certain metalhead goes above and beyond chivalry.

F! Reader Insert, 6111 Words

Warnings: SMUT! Minors DNI. Y/N is over 18. Eddie is scarred from the Upside Down. I took some liberties and decided Vecna was defeated in this. Making out, smoking, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, cursing, food mentions, protected sex.

Authors Note: This has been in the works for ages, and I am unleashing it lol. I never went to prom sooooo this is another self indulgent one lol. Also, I am always looking for inspo, so I will absolutely take requests for one-shots, blurbs, and head canons. If you don’t have an idea and just wanna chat, that’s cool too! I promise I won't bite.

The complaint you had been making gets caught in your throat, embarrassment heating your cheeks as the conversation you were having with Steve is halted by the bell above the door to Family Video.

It’s the first time it’s gone off since you’d settled in here after school to hang out with your friends. The place was dead enough that the interruption alone would have garnered your glance, but instead your full attention is quickly commanded by the metalhead entering beneath the bell, already grinning as he takes you in at the counter. “Hey Y/N…Steve…Robin.” He nods at each of you as the lot of you greet him back.

Your simple, “Hi Eddie.” is much more reserved than you feel as you ignore the butterflies he causes by approaching, a stack of video tapes tucked under one of the scarred arms that peeks unapologetically from his Black Sabbath t-shirt.

“What are we talking about?” He asks with a small chuckle, to which Robin immediately throws you under the bus.

“Prom.” She supplies in a pained tone, adding, “Y/N doesn’t have a date.”

“Robin!” You complain sharply as Steve gives her a stern look. Her eyes widen, having missed the cue that maybe you wouldn’t want Eddie to know that - to open yourself up for his scrutiny on top of your already miserable desires.

Eddie doesn’t mock you though. He takes one look at you, at the apparent mortification on your face that’s now hidden by your hands, and you can only assume he takes pity on you.

In response to Robin’s words, just loud enough for you to hear, he insists “Go with me.”

As the words register, you drop your hands, your eyes widening before you can help it.

You let out a small, disbelieving sound at Eddie, cringing at the way it comes out like a mutilated laugh. “Doesn’t prom go against your entire belief system?” You mutter, Eddie smiling like you’ve just paid him a compliment.

“Oh absolutely it does...But who am I to turn a blind eye to a damsel in distress?” He gives a small chuckle, before catching the downtrodden look on your face and quickly scrambling.

“That’s not to say that uh, I wouldn’t enjoy myself. I think…I mean, if it’s with you, I think it could be fun.” There’s a slight smile playing around the edge of his lips.

It would be fun. It would be…everything. And you want him to mean it so desperately that it takes you a moment to notice the way that your delay affects Eddie. The way he fidgets with his hands…Shifts from foot to foot…Could he actually be nervous?

You melt.

“I…I’d really like to go.” You confess, your voice small in the wake of the admittance you hadn’t allowed yourself thus far. Putting yourself out there, only to have Eddie’s answering smile take the breath from your lungs.

“It’s a date then.” He sets his pile of videos on the counter, glancing at your mutual friends. “Take care of this for me, will you Harrington? I gotta go find a tux.”

Steve pulls the tapes towards himself as Eddie starts to walk backwards toward the door, eyes never leaving you even for a moment. “I’ll see you later?” He asks hopefully.

You nod far too readily only for him to grin again and wave, rings glinting in the fluorescent lighting, before he heads out.

As the door closes behind him, Robin gives you a wide eyed look, Steve scanning the returns as he lets out a very casual. “Munson, huh? Now that I wasn’t expecting.”

“Me neither.” You reply, already fretting about making sure that things go perfectly as you pinch yourself that Eddie Munson has really just asked you to prom.

Robin starts talking a mile a minute, having garnered acceptance of the situation much more quickly than your still bewildered state, and Steve lovingly reminds you both to breathe.

It feels far removed from you in that moment and beyond it, as the days leading up to prom seem to accelerate in your anxious state.

Until it’s the night of and finally you head to Steve’s, where his bathroom counter has been taken over by all the beauty products Robin, Robin’s mother, (and Steve,) collectively owned.

While there you’re given the full glamor treatment - makeup, hair, the works.

It’s a great time. Not only do you enjoy this bit of pampering but as they help you get ready, Steve and Robin reminisce about their own memories of prom to your utter delight.

Steve’s is a classic tale - 85’ prom king, underage drinking, and an after party where he and his date went all the way.

“Gag.” Robin interjected, launching into her own unconventional tale. A prom that involved crashing in 84’ after a spiteful makeover and some light property damage.

You laugh along with both your friends and think to yourself that both experiences, while wonderful, were nothing compared to what stood before you - an evening with Eddie.

It was tying you up in knots, the anticipation. The nerves that took what was upcoming and loaded it on top of every interaction you two had shared previously. A perfect storm of wondering if things between you two were moving in the direction you hoped for…If this was more than just chivalry to him.

You wanted it to be. Cataloging all of the previously stolen glances between you two…the inside jokes…

“Would you stop pacing,” Steve insisted, grabbing you by the shoulders. “It’s gonna be fine! Trust me.”

“Trust you.” You repeated, about to go off on an anxiety-induced spiral of self deprecation before Robin interjected and halted you in your tracks. She said some words - pretty and French. Something about maybe how you looked? Or how Eddie was going to feel when he looked at you? You weren’t sure.

In any case, it helped. You took a deep breath and put a relaxed smile on your face. Robin took the opportunity to snap a Polaroid of the three of you.

This led to a dozen more photos, Steve and Robin posing with you like the parents sending you off. Robin wiped fake tears from her eyes and Steve started in on a fake lecture about boys and how they were no good, and back in his day...

You were still laughing at that when a knock on the door caused you to freeze, nerves supplanting themselves right back in the pit of your stomach as Steve went to let Eddie in, quickly sidestepping so the pair of you could take each other in.

As your gaze landed on Eddie, you couldn’t help but find him impossibly handsome - clean shaven, shiny brown curls falling past his shoulders where he’d managed to find a relatively nice suit to wear.

You were surprised to see a boutonniere in the same color as your dress - your favorite color - beside his lapel. In his still ringed hands he held a plastic container with a matching corsage.

You couldn’t help but to go slack-jawed in awe at the sight, touched beyond measure.

Steve clears his throat behind the pair of you. You hadn’t noticed how long you’d been ogling Eddie - or that he’d been struck just as speechless at the sight of you in your prom dress.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” He pipes up, the both of you meeting halfway.

“Thank you, Eddie. You look really handsome.” You swear, fondness in your voice.

He beams at you, gingerly holding up the corsage, “Can I?” He asks.

You offer your wrist, Robin and Steve snapping away with the camera. You stick your tongue out at them after giving them a generous moment to get the shot.

They wave you off, forcing the two of you into all kinds of poses that you complain about but know you’ll cherish - physical remnants of the way Eddie holds you tight and smiles like he’s proud to have you.

These and a few group shots, the last of which has Eddie making a classic rockstar pose and Steve faux-flexing, and you two are ushered off the lawn and on your way.

“Not too late now!” Steve teases - Robin's arm is around his waist as she waves you off.

You roll your eyes at both of them, addressing him when you say, “I’ll be sure to do that, mom.” And Eddie laughs as they flip you the bird and disappear into the house to hang out.

“You ready?” Eddie asks sweetly, to which you nod, already heading for his van.

When he sees which way you’re going he gently catches you by the arm, shaking his head. “Your chariot for the evening is actually this way my lady.”

Your confused expression turns to one of surprise as Eddie produces a set of keys from his pocket, jingling them in the general direction of Steve’s BMW.

“Steve said I could borrow her, with some stipulations.” Eddie explained, a bit of a pink tint to the tips of his ears at whatever they were, as he hurried over and opened your door for you before you could ask.

Once you and your dress are situated he shuts you in gently, heading around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“How’d you pull that off?” You ask nonchalantly instead, smoothing your dress down your legs.

Eddie clears his throat, eyes on your ankle and sounding a touch embarrassed as he explains. “I told him that I didn’t want you to show up to your prom in the old grease bucket, smelling like weed…He took pity on me I think.”

He waves it off, but you frown. Not liking the answer, you call his name gently, reassuring him. “I could have rolled up in half a rotting pumpkin and I would still be happy because I’m there with you.”

Feeling bold, you reach out and squeeze his hand reassuringly. You’re planning to let go but Eddie suddenly squeezes back, lacing your fingers together.

“Is-is this okay?” He nods down at the hand he holds, a timid smile on his face. You smile wide in return, promising him, “It’s perfect.”

Not much more needs to be said. He holds your hand the whole ride to the school, a guitar you recognize playing low in the background. Not Steve’s usual station for sure, and you don’t mind at all.

When the two of you arrive, the parking lot is already full - well, as full as it can be with half the town having moved away overnight…Upperclassmen are all around, running free in their fancy attire, having a blast. Cutting lose in a much needed way after the last year of hell.

Paying them no mind, Eddie takes your hand and leads you through the halls of the school, where you flash your tickets at the entry before heading inside the gym.

You smile as you take in the packed space, full of colorful balloons and gossamer streamers hanging, winding, and climbing every available surface.

A cluster of colorfully dressed people jumps, twirls, and writhes in the middle of the floor, creating a cluster of hairspray smell that’s a bit overwhelming.

Eddie takes one look at you under the twinkle lights, and feels his heart skip a beat.

“Hard to believe this is the same room where I’ve spent so much time faking injuries.” You tell him when you meet his gaze, your admittance making him laugh.

“I wish I would have known, I’m notorious for my nosebleeds. I could have kept you supplied with plenty of fake blood.” He taps the side of said nose in emphasis, and you can’t help but think about how well a kiss would fit right there. “Hm” You muse, slight smile on your lips. “I usually go with ‘sprained ankle.’ Guaranteed reading time for the whole period. Doubt a few drops of blood can get you the same result.” “A few drops? I’ll have you know that I have a very serious vitamin K deficiency.” He answers, smirk on his lips. “A nosebleed from me is a guaranteed bloodbath. Coach can’t get me out of here fast enough.”

You bark out a laugh. “You’re a little bit evil, Munson.”

“Maybe.” He grins huge, hand to his heart. “I promise you though, no excuses tonight.” Eddie shakes his hair out. “I am but your humble servant, here to dance to your heart’s desires.”

You raise an eyebrow, but he isn’t joking - he drags you to the makeshift dance floor, where scattered couples give you a wide berth, Eddie never showing whether he minds or not. He moves along to the music blaring throughout the gym, encouraging you to join him. You fold way too fast, inspired to abandon your nerves with the way he’s smiling and looking at you like there’s no one else in the room.

You keep your gaze on him, loving how when he dances it’s in complete confidence - treating each song like a concert he’s putting on for the two of you. It’s silly and uncoordinated and so much fun.

After a sporadic turn around the dance floor to the pop that Eddie loathes, for what feels like ages, the pair of you suddenly grow nervous at the slow song that cuts through - a soulful angelic voice rife with passion, urging lover’s together.

You're surrounded by peers who’ve already fallen into their dates' arms when Eddie holds a hand out.

Head up slightly, you place your hand in his and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you in close, swaying the pair of you from side to side.

The song goes on - romantic and full of promise, and changes the atmosphere entirely. When it ends, Eddie doesn’t seem like he can go back to jumping and bopping around to the hits of today.

Instead he unwraps his arms from around your waist without a word, linking his arm with yours and leading you out the double doors of the cafeteria.

By this point in the night the prom is in full swing, so the concession tables lined up outside just beyond the doors in the senior hallway are nearly abandoned.

There’s one bleary eyed chaperone posted out front to guard the punch, halfheartedly asking if you’re having fun as Eddie pours you a generous cup full.

You nod at her in reply and down the drink, trying not to wince at the taste and give yourself away. Knowing that said chaperone had definitely fallen asleep at the wheel.

The second your back is turned though, you’re pulling a face, and Eddie chuckles at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering there a touch too long. It feels more than friendly.

“I’m really glad you asked me to come.” You blurt before you can help it, immediately hiding behind the pretense of taking another sip of your drink.

Eddie’s eyes grow soft at your words. “I’m really glad you said yes.” He admits.

It takes you by surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He moves in a touch closer, looking like he wants to say something.

He clams up though when there’s an apparent shift change at the punch table. A new teacher is taking the place of the old, this one looking at Eddie entirely disapprovingly. Likely traumatized from having him in class at some point.

And Eddie, for all his confidence, seems to shrink. Looks wholly defeated.

You frown, urging him down the hall and away from disapproving eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, plastering a smile on his face that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Got the best girl in Hawkins all to myself, what could be wrong?”

The compliment almost distracts you. “Eddie,” you complain softly, with a small laugh.

He loves the sound of your laugh. Loves seeing you get all flustered. “Alright alright, so to be fair I don’t ‘got’ you - but I did bring you to the prom. Now you’ll never forget me.” He grins.

You want to tell him that he can have you - take you, you’ll be his, but you're not brave enough to make the offer, and so you tease him about the latter part of his statement, “Forget you?” You ask incredulously. “We’ve fought interdimensional monster’s together, Munson. I’m not likely to forget that any time soon.”

“Ah you say that now. But in fifty years? I would have just been that guy with the tattoos who complained the whole time…Now as your senior prom date...I mean, hell, even Wayne remembers his prom date, and the old man likely couldn’t tell you what I made for dinner last night.” He grimaces more than he laughs.

You frown slightly, although you try hard to keep your words light. “You make it sound like you’re going somewhere.”

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart...That’s kind of that point. Girls like you go off, change the world…And guys like me get left behind, wondering what might have been.”

“Eddie.” You frown, not sure where to begin with that. “What are you saying?”

“Just that…I hope you’ll remember me.” He tells you sadly.

“Eddie,” You blurt, a touch too loudly. The other occupant of the hall narrows her eyes, looking like she’s debating intervening. You bite your lip and lower your voice. “Why is it what could have been? Why does…nothing come of it?”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset.” Eddie murmurs quietly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh no, you absolutely should have…because if you’re telling me that you like me…” You shake your head in disbelief. “Eddie, I will never let you go.”

“Y/N…” he protests softly, and he sounds much older than twenty years old. You shake your head, taking his hands in yours, squeezing reassuringly.

“Eddie, I’m not going anywhere, okay? Dr. Brenner asked me to work with him after graduation. Stay in Hawkins where we can try to undo some of the nasty ugly that Vecna unleashed…That being said, wherever I am, stay or go, you do not get to decide that you’re not good enough for me. Not after everything.”

And then, with the backing that Eddie likes you - likes you and for all his doubts wants to be remembered by you, you take a leap.

You lean in, pressing your lips to his firmly, lingering there even when he’s kissed you back, pulled away so now he’s stammering, lips still brushing yours.

“So I-you’re-” Eddie stutters. You nudge his cute nose with your own, expression soft, nerves worked out by the man’s sincerity.

“I like you, Eddie.” You tell him, eyes hopeful. “Is it enough?”

“More than enough.” He breathed. He leaned back in for another kiss, and then another. Only stopping when the nosey chaperone behind the two of you cleared her throat loudly.

He rests his forehead against yours. There’s several comfortable beats of silence as he takes in what’s happened. Then he offers, nervously and quietly, “…you wanna go dance some more?”

You nod eagerly.

The night wears on with more dancing, laughter, and stolen kisses.

When hours have passed and the band is wrapping up, you still don’t want to let Eddie go, holding him tight even as the overhead lights come on in the gym, clean up starting in the echoing silence.

Eddie hums softly, face downtrodden. “I guess…I guess I better get you home.”

“Sure or…” You clear your throat, looking at Eddie from beneath your lashes. “I mean, it’s kind of been implied that I’m spending the night at Robin’s…so uh, no one’s waiting up for me or anything…”

“Oh?” Eddie perks up. “Well uh, Steve is very much back there waiting up for his lady, so…maybe we can get rid of her and spend some more time together?”

You agree readily, letting out a small laugh. “I’d love that…Now let’s hurry, I absolutely cannot be in these shoes any longer.”

Eddie quickly straightens up, holding out an arm. “Say no more.”

He leads you out of the gym, giving a small jerk where you two maintain contact before you can step into the darkened near-empty parking lot.

“What is it?” You ask him, only for him to slip his arm out of your hold, both hands landing on your shoulders before he sinks down to one knee in front of you.

“Give me,” He insists, slapping his upper thigh.

Confused, you raise a foot slowly, only to squeak as he makes quick work of robbing you of the shoe you present him, then the other, the strappy heels held tightly in his hand as he scrambles to his feet.

“Eddie!” You gasp, bare feet on the pavement.

He looks absolutely diabolical as he coos at you, “Don’t worry baby, I don’t expect you to walk.”

Expected instead to sweep you off your feet, making you let out a loud startled sound as he hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder.

“Eddie!” You squeal in protest, face hot as you protest that you're way too heavy for this, only for Eddie to laugh at you and ignore what you think are perfectly valid concerns.

Eddie’s having none of it, strong and steady as he deposits you in Steve’s car, your offending shoes pressed into your hands.

He jogs giddily around the front of the BMW, sliding into the front seat and firing her up.

“You’re a menace.” You whine, attempting to fix what the night of dancing and being carried around has done to your hair.

Eddie laughs at you, reaching out a hand tentatively. You take it firmly, bringing it up to your lips to press a kiss to it. Eddie’s whole demeanor softens, and you do it again. And again.

Eddie only stops you once you get to Steve’s a few minutes later, where he quickly rushes inside, not wanting your mutual friends to come out and intrude on your evening.

A few minutes later and you’re in the front seat of his van, the engine rumbling beneath you as he mentions that he could go for a smoke, and you readily agree.

Rather than take you back to his and Wayne’s place though - newly assigned by the government after Vecna’s assault - to your surprise he drives the two of you out to Lover’s Lake.

“I still like to come out here sometimes. It’s mostly peaceful now that the whole town is…well, a ghost town.” He explains, nervous as he pulls out some pre-rolled blunts in a little baggie and a box of camels from his dashboard, holding them both up to you as options.

You choose the blunts, and he situates the rejects before glancing behind him nervously. “We uh, we can get in the back and open the doors up if you want? There’s more room.”

Trying and failing to hide your smile, you nod and climb back, Eddie quickly following and popping open the doors, the night air wafting in over the slightly rippling water as he lights up.

“Oh wow.” You tilt your head back and take in the stars and moon hanging overhead. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says absentmindedly, taking a long drag. Breathing out a plume of smoke, eyes only for you. “Beautiful.”

You meet his gaze, and he blushes, coughing slightly. Your hand finds his unoccupied one, and you squeeze.

The two of you are out there for a while, sharing the blunt back and forth until relaxation coats your bones, a lazy smile taking over your lips.

“I’m really glad you asked me to prom.” You grin, repeating your words from earlier.

Eddie merely chuckles, remembering. “I’m really glad you said yes…and that I’m going to see more of you,” he says it like a question, and you’re already nodding, taking your hit.

“I told you, there’s no getting rid of me now.” You laugh. Eddie tilts his head to the side at the sound, long curls falling over his shoulder.

He’s gorgeous like this - in the low light of the moon, with his tie, or rather, his corporate noose of oppression, long since discarded. (He’d kicked it playfully, the big dork.)

All that and a hint of skin showing beyond the top few undone buttons of his shirt…he was lovelier than anything in this whole town.

“You promise?” Eddie asks playfully, two fingers raising the blunt and inhaling a touch sharply - he blinks his eyes at you coyly, but you know there’s real insecurity behind the question.

You brush his hand to the side and kiss him in answer. Slow and sweet, but when Eddie scrambles to abandon the blunt altogether, eager to get both his hands on you, all bets are off.

Bunching up your suddenly constricting prom dress in your hands, you struggle to get closer to Eddie, straddling him as you slip your tongue in his mouth.

Minutes go by like this, the atmosphere growing hot and heavy, until your soft sucking on his earlobe makes him jerk harshly up into you.

“Fuck,” he gasps, trying to pull away, eyes darting down to where your dress is bunched up around your thighs. “Sorry!”

You frown, trying to keep your seat. “Don’t be sorry! …I uh, I was hoping…maybe we could…if you wanted to…”

He groans before shaking out his hair, trying to clear his mind. “Course’ I do, just…we’re in the van.” He emphasized. “S’not how I wanted to do things…”

You plant another kiss on his lips. Tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. “…Please?”

He folds way too fast.

“Fuck, okay. Can’t say no to those eyes.” He shakes his head slightly. Wants to ingrain the smile that takes over your face in his mind forever.

Especially when you reach out for him again, kissing him passionately. “…Gonna take such good care of you.” He practically growls, and you let out a shudder.

“Promise?” You bat your eyes at him, repeating the words that had started this whole thing.

“Shit, I’d do anything for you. You know that don’t you?” He asks, cradling your face in his hands with the utmost care. A nod from you and he smiles, eyes darting over to the van’s front.

“Gimme a sec,” he instructs, leaving you momentarily to fish around under his seat, producing a blanket that he tosses down, spreading it out.

“There we are.” He offers a sheepish grin as you ease yourself into the padding he’s laid out for you, guiding Eddie to situate himself atop you as you lock lips once again.

While you kiss, his growing harness pressing eagerly against you, you work his suit jacket off his shoulders, undoing a few more buttons so he can shuck his shirt off after it.

You're eager to feel any skin you can, sighing contentedly at having him beneath your fingers.

Eddie starts to tense up a bit though, the more that’s revealed, apologies already on his lips.

“Hey, none of that.” You shake your head. “I want you to an embarrassing degree. A few battle scars aren’t going to scare me off.”

“It’s more than a few.” He cleared his throat, offering a tiny smile. “But…okay…”

When you take in the sight of him - bare, scarred, fucking perfect, it’s not at all an exaggeration. And yet you’ve never seen something so beautiful.

The pattern interrupting his porcelain skin exists of of blush pinks and vibrant reds. Reaching across him in some places, splitting in others, every bit of it is a testament to his resilience and heroism.

You hope fate will grant you enough time to memorize them all someday as you tell him, “Very metal.”

“Yeah?” He quirks up a brow, looking a bit more relaxed.

“Hell yeah.” You reply teasingly, and Eddie chuckles before his kiss practically consumes you.

Lips against yours, firm and eager, his hands roam your back that’s currently covered by silky fabric.

He glances down at where it covers you. “It really is a pretty dress…” he tells you, toying with the zipper. “Mind if I take it off?”

“Please.” You gasp.

“Oh.” He lets out a breath through his nose. “Good girl.”

Your head falls back slightly, eyes widening a fraction as he slips the zipper down and moves the fabric down over your arms, past your waist, your legs and ankles, discarding it off to the side.

Laid out before him in nothing but your strapless bra and lacey panties, he groans a little.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps. “Fuck...you look so damn sexy. I can’t wait to do this again somewhere I can see you properly…”

You giggle beneath him, and he swallows the sound with his kiss. Pulling back slightly and murmuring, asking if he can see more of you.

When you give him permission his lips graze your shoulder, planting little kisses there while his hands work behind you with the clasps of your bra.

When it comes loose, he pulls back and drinks you in, diving in readily.

You gasp when he first takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly, eagerly.

Noises of ecstacy edge him on as he sucks, nibbles, teases, his hands and tongue and teeth lavishing your breasts with attention until you're shaking, hands buried in his hair.

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you whine.

Eddie grins widely down at you, hand tracing a path up your leg, “…want to taste you.” He breathes.

A nod and he’s between your legs, kneeling on marks left by gnashing teeth, grinning devilishly before he’s dragging his tongue up the center of you that’s still clothed for the moment.

You cry out in surprise and pleasure, back arching off the blanket and he grins, wanting your underwear out of the way now that he’s had some fun with you.

He tugs them down your legs, murmuring all the while how gorgeous you are, his eyes drinking you in once you're finally, completely, naked beneath him.

Then his words of praise get muffled by your inner thighs as he’s kissing and nipping at them, your legs thrown over his shoulders.

Looking up at you through his hair, he slowly dips his tongue into your slit and flicks up, holding your hips down from jolting against him.

His tongue dives in again and again, stroking you to the edge and lapping up everything you give him, as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.

He moans against you, tilting your hips up further, locking his grip and moving his tongue even quicker.

Eddie can’t help but admire the scene in front of him as he eats you out, tits bouncing as you thrust against his mouth and the fingers he supplies, begging him for more.

You look so good like this, all fucked-out, downright sobbing as Eddie devoured you. When you finally shatter under the sheer force of your orgasm, he nurses it for all its worth.

Eddie pulls back and swipes his tongue across his bottom lip as you catch your breath, admiring you as you come down.

“And so pretty when you cum…” he praises you.

In the aftermath you reach for him blindly, and he crawls atop you on all fours, your mouths crashing together messily.

“Eddie,” you’re begging him. “Eddie, please…” pushing his pants and boxers down and off his hips with your feet, eager and uncoordinated, but he gets the message.

Your eyes take in every inch of him, greedily running over every bit of skin as he kicks the offending fabric away before thinking better of it and turning his pants inside out to try and find his wallet and the condom within it.

There’s relief in his eyes when it turns up, shaking hands slowing him down until he finally just tears into the package with his teeth, unable to take it anymore.

The sight practically causes your lower stomach to spasm.

Then he’s pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it down his length, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Fuck,” He sighs lightly, spreading your legs and lining himself up with you as you smile so hard your nose scrunches up. And holy hell if you aren’t the most perfect thing he’s ever seen.

Especially when he slips inside you finally, your walls tightening against the intrusion and gripping him so seamlessly.

Eddie groans, releasing his hold on himself so he can press your legs down a little further as he inches in.

He cries out an array of explicatives as he watches himself disappear inside you, hearing you moan at the feeling of finally being full.

His hips cant forward, slowly easing in and out until you cry out his name and praises.

Eddie slams into you, driving in over and over, eyes closed tight against the pleasure of it all.

You’re making it so much better as you cry out beneath him, hands roving his body.

“Want you to fall apart on my cock, sweetheart.” He gasps, thumb working rhythmically against your clit, loving the little screams you let out when he plays with it.

With the way he has you on edge, swiping against that little button while he pounds into you hard and deep, just how you’re begging for it, it doesn’t take long at all.

You’re helpless as your walls bear down on him, his movements faltering under the intensity of your second orgasm as it washes over you.

Then he picks his pace right back up, fucking into you where you’re still fluttering around him.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He accentuates each word with a harsh thrust. “Fucking knew you would be.” There’s sweat beading up on his forehead, his eyes still fixated on the spot where your bodies met. He sounds absolutely wrecked. Desperate.

“Had a damn near out of body experience when you were swinging that oar around. Fell so damn hard and just…fuck…Fucking knew, knew right then that if I was ever lucky enough to get you underneath me it was gonna be fucking transcendent.”

He drives into you a little harder at that point, and you moan loudly, nails digging into his back.

Eddie hisses slightly, smiling, not a trace of cockiness in his tone as he begs you for reassurance. “Was I wrong, baby?” He asks.

You give a desperate shake of your head. Choking out. “Right. So right, so good. Fuck! Eddie!”

He groans. “Shit, I’m not gonna last. You’re taking me so well.”

Eddie pounds against you harder, thrusts sloppy right up until he cums, spilling into the condom with his head thrown back, pure ecstasy on his face.

With his finish he collapses on top of you, exhausted, sweaty, and so, so satisfied.

You reach up from beneath him, running hands through his long hair, not complaining about his weight at all. Even whining when he quickly realizes and moves to roll off of you.

Eddie chuckles, removing the used condom and discarding it in an empty plastic bag under his passenger seat.

Once that’s back where he found it he settles into the pulling you into his arms, both to appease you, and because he needed it.

He kisses the top of your head as he does so, a laugh shaking his body slightly as he pulls you tighter into him. “Holy fuck.”

You giggle, agreeing wholeheartedly. He leans his forehead against yours. “I can’t believe I got you.” Tasting the way it makes you smile as you murmur the same words back to him.

After more kisses than you can keep track of, Eddie breaks apart from you to ask, “Hey, are you hungry?”

And when you admit you are, the two of you redress, and he takes you to a 24 hour diner a little outside of Hawkins where the two of you gorge yourselves on breakfast food.

You look a bit more like the girl he first fell for, make up long since discarded like it was in the days following him hiding in the boathouse. A light sheen of sweat lingers from what the two of you did in the back of his van, your prom dress is rumpled, and still the smile you offer him - it makes him feel like everything is gonna be alright.

He can’t take his eyes off you. He tells you as much, and with his adoration comes promises made between the two of you over hash browns and maple syrup.

Promises of sticking around, of being enough, and of never forgetting - not because things were unforgettable by proximity - but because how could you, when this was the first of so much to be shared, to be experienced…together.

#eddie munson #eddie smut #eddie munson prom #eddie munson prom fic #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie st #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #Eddie munson fic

203 notes · View notes