Finnick Odair Masterlist

MASTERLIST

the hunger games

johanna mason masterlist

finnick odair masterlist

lucy gray baird masterlist

katniss everdeen masterlist

peeta mellark masterlist

annie cresta masterlist

tigris snow masterlist

other hg works (1) (2)

criminal minds

emily prentiss masterlist

derek morgan masterlist

spencer reid masterlist

elle greenaway masterlist

penelope garcia masterlist

other criminal minds works

daisy jones and the six

daisy jones masterlist

eddie roundtree masterlist

karen sirko masterlist

billy dunne masterlist

other djats works

teen wolf

scott mccall masterlist

top gun/top gun maverick

jake "hangman" seresin masterlist

other works

blood runs thicker than water (odesta) masterlist

oc masterlist

olympic team hq!! // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works ⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*

atsumu

neon lights (in a world gray) triple trouble drunk mind sober heart green with envy a commemoration of firsts till one of us caves long black anyways, don't be a stranger

kageyama

fate when one door closes stolen kisses miscommunication him?! haunt me volleyball on the brain you can hear it in the silence

sakusa

soft and wet public transit miscarry it's still love drawing our moments bed this victory is mine, and yours touch starved

oikawa

babygirl pinch two stories settle always perfect pain split here's to the sixth time

ushijima

request trust fall atlas bitter / sweet soft, but for you only in time page 304

bokuto

inferior an accidental heroine as loud as you like lucid swept up in the moment heart attack

in the almost two years that you and katsuki have been dating, marriage has never been brought up.

not even once.

you’re not worried about it though. the thought is one that must’ve crossed his mind at one point or another and simply not been verbalized. after all—he’s still learning that he is in fact allowed to both have and express his emotions.

alternatively, your brain is certainly no stranger to being graced with images of your boyfriend—well, husband—in a suit and tie, with a handful of three tiered vanilla cake smeared on his face. courtesy of you, of course.

it’s a sweet thought, but one that you tuck away—because now just, isn’t the time.

you’re still so young, and there’s many memories to be made before your wedding becomes one of them. also, you don’t even really have the time to begin with. your boyfriend currently has almost all of his focus on his career as a pro, and as bitter as the words taste—that line of work does require a one day at a time mindset. he knows better than anyone that he can’t gaze too far into the future.

so, marriage remains a topic that you and katsuki have yet to touch on.

however, the two of you attended izuku’s wedding this evening, and much to your surprise—he has a lot to say about it upon returning home.

in fact, you don’t even end up here until two in the morning, and now—at quarter to three—neither of you seem willing to put the conversation to bed.

you’re sitting on the sofa with your legs slung over katsuki’s lap, and he’s mindlessly kneading at the skin on your thighs. he’s definitely not drunk, but after snagging three consecutive days off for this whole ordeal—a miracle, really—he had a drink or two (or three) at the reception, and so yes, he has a bit of a buzz going on. but, he’s not any less him.

“katsuki,” you drawl—tone vaguely similar to that of a parent scolding their child. “stop it, his vows were not cheesy.”

“yeah they were,” he mutters. he’s still in his white button up and black dress pants, although the tie and suit jacket that went along with them are long gone. “almost as cheesy as the fuckin’,” he pauses to lean his head back against the cushions. “tears running down his face.”

and well, it was a beautiful ceremony—an outdoor event that unfolded beneath the pinky-orange sky and the warmth of the evening sun.

candles lined the aisle, and a slew of white roses adorned the archway at the end of it—details that you know izuku didn’t have much to do with, but that he visibly adored no less. he was as happy as you think you’ve ever seen him. in a way, you envy the outward tenderness of his affection.

“i thought it was cute,” you respond. “you can tell that he’s in love.”

having already changed into pyjamas, your thumb and index finger tug and fiddle with a loose thread on the sleeve of your (katsuki’s) shirt, and you find yourself wondering if the possibility of him crying at your ceremony is one that exists.

“yeah, that’s enough love for me.” he turns to you—scarlet gaze lidded with what could be fatigue, the lingering effects of rum, or, a little bit of both. “don’t think i’m cut out for this wedding bullshit.”

he means this wedding guest bullshit, surely.

“well,” you bend your knees, planting your feet flat against his thighs, which prompts him to slide two fingers beneath the silver jewelry wrapped around your ankle. “then i guess now is a bad time to tell you that i caught the bouquet.”

it was an honest mistake. you intentionally placed yourself at the very back of the group, primarily to avoid any potential scuffles, but lo and behold— izuku’s wife has quite the arm. you had to catch it simply to prevent being hit by it.

but apparently your boyfriend didn’t notice the dishevelled bundle of foliage in your hands upon returning to the table.

“you wanna trophy or somethin’?” he deadpans.

“uh, i believe it’s called a ring,” you hum playfully—half poking fun at him, and half hoping that you feel his palm heat up against your skin. he’s pretty easy to read, so long as you know what to look for.

but he doesn’t have much of a reaction.

whatever’s playing on the television is in the midst of bathing him in a blue-ish hue, and so you can’t really make out any of the finer details of his face—the crease between his brows or the sharpness of his jaw. but, you know that katsuki’s wheels are turning. you can feel it in the absentminded graze of his fingertips along the back of your thigh. it’s as if he’s getting a feel for the idea of marriage for the first time, tossing and turning it around in his head. has he really never thought about it before?

“that superstition is bullshit,” he blurts out after a minute or two of silence.

“marriage?” you furrow your brows at him.

katsuki mirrors your look with triple the sass and a little scowl to boot—crease now very, very visible. “no moron, the bouquet toss. jesus, denki sat next to you for twenty minutes and was able to kill that many of your brain cells, or what?” he asks—smirk threatening the corners of his lips. “i thought i told that dumbass to stop flirting with you.”

“don’t worry,” you laugh a little even though you know you shouldn’t. “he won’t remember flirting with me.”

“good,” katsuki mumbles.

you watch quietly as he turns to the television. the shitty comedy movie you’re watching continues to paint him in various colours—a muted orange that softens his features, and a shade of royal blue that makes the scar on his face appear a deep purple.

he’s pretty, you think. in any and every colour.

“so,” you begin, redirecting your gaze to your nails in a painfully obvious attempt at avoiding his. “do you not want to marry me?”

it’s a lighthearted question. some casual late night conversation. you’re going to take his reply with a grain of salt regardless of what it is.

but again, in the blurry background of your vision, you see katsuki with that same look on his face—confusion and bewilderment all wrapped into one.

“did i say that i didn’t wanna marry you?” he asks.

and well, no. however, his apparent distaste for all things wedding related can be interpreted as such—can’t it?

“i read between the lines,” you chuckle and swing your feet onto the floor—sitting back upright.

“well don’t,” he grumbles. you can feel his eyes on you as you stretch your arms out above your head, and when you stand up and start shuffling away—you think you can feel a hole burning into the back of your skull. “hey, get your ass back here.”

“katsuki, i’m tired,” you groan over your shoulder, already knowing that he’s right there behind you.

“listen to me,” he insists, but his voice is soft, light—as if he’s well aware that the topic isn’t. then, he reaches out and tangles his fingers in the excess fabric of your shirt, pulling you flush against the eternal warmth of his chest. he ducks down a bit, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “i’ll give you that ring when i’m damn good and ready, alright?”

you wiggle in his grasp, turning yourself around to face him as his rather interesting choice of words begins to settle.

“what ring?” you smile up at him, and again—he’s easy to read so long as you know what to look for, and so as you watch the tips of his ears flush red, you think you’ve got him all figured out. “baby—”

katsuki’s palm gently greets your face before you can start doting on him. he pushes lightly—using just enough force to get his point across.

“yeah, yeah. save it for later,” he advises, and you swear your heart leaps into your throat at the all but confirmed meaning of those words. “since you’re so good at reading between lines and shit,” he adds.

and even at a time like this, he’s as smug as ever.

but you’re happy—so incredibly happy. of course you are. knowing that the picture perfect images of katsuki as your groom will eventually leave the confines of your mind is all you really wanted. still, there’s a small part of you that feels guilty for even bringing it up in the first place, because you’ve completely eliminated any element of surprise. is he upset about that? it doesn’t look like—

“what, no i love you? no you’re the best boyfriend ever?” his voice fills your ears—extinguishing the prior thought. “can make you wait longer, y’know.”

“shut up,” you curl into his chest, breathing in the faint scent of cologne that’s lingering on his shirt—the same one he’s worn on every date he’s ever taken you on. “you know how much i love you.”

“yeah, ditto.”

and katsuki wants to argue that point further, but he doesn’t.

he’s never been the best at expressing himself. he knows this, and he knows that you do as well. his affection isn’t like izuku’s. his tenderness doesn’t come in the form of words.

instead, he weaves it into everything he does.

it’s in the way he sleeps—always with an arm or a leg or some part of his body touching yours, and always with you positioned further from the door. god forbid soembody enter your home, he needs himself to be the first (and last) person that they encounter. it’s in the way he eats, too—because despite his relentless appetite, he always makes sure you’ve had your fill before he thinks about going back for seconds. above all, he holds you with a tenderness that even izuku couldn’t match. he holds you so close, and he holds you so tight—like the thought of losing you is one that’s forever on his mind and always scaring him shitless.

and so, while he knows better than anyone that he can’t gaze too far into the future, he did.

he bought a ring eight and a half months into your relationship, and has been waiting for a time that the larger part of society would deem acceptable. having to work beneath the scrutinizing eye of the public is shitty, but the way he sees it—there’s no title or piece of paperwork that’s going to change what you mean to him anyways.

nevertheless, katsuki hasn’t doubted for a second that the colour you would look best in is white.

☆ FINNICK ODAIR MASTERLIST!

headcanons / drabbles!

finnick and casual dominance

finnick’s a poetic romantic

finnick x shy!you

finnick and manhandling

finnick’s favourite things to call you

blurbs!

more finnick and casual dominance

finnick gets you in his lap

finnick corners you to tease you

finnick gets jealous

finnick’s protective over tribute!you

finnick gets jealous (again)

you get jealous and finnick thinks it’s cute

finnick comforts you when you can’t sleep

finnick looks after you when you’re sick

finnick gives shy!you your first kiss

some fic writers to read who aren't me

there's so many amazing writers on here who ultimately made me want to contribute to the eddie thirst and it's just nice to have more series to follow and binge so these are all my absolute faves and you should follow and read and drown the writers in praise!

these are just my all time faves but i always reblog what i like so check that out too!

ps: I will make another list of this but exclusively just slutty eddie reads, pure filth

✹ @andvys love will tear us apart series this is absolutely phenomenal, i am addicted! i honestly check multiple times a day for new parts. there's prequels as well to feed my cravings as well

✹ @pxrxcxa opposite ends top tier enemies to lovers fic! dustin's sister is one of my favourite tropes and they do it so well. perfect slow burn

✹ @thefreakymunson anywhere but here i couldn't not give you a rockstar eddie fic and this is one of the best! it's a really unique take on it and just fun, hot and angsty

✹ @nyxoz follow the oz writes eddie munson tag my go to for eddie smut because it's always so fucking hot but there's also some gorgeous fluff bits like i just love their eddie! just check the tag there's so much

✹ @kissitbttr eddie x mean cheerleader but also all the other eddie fics because their fem readers are all loud mouth slightly terrifying girls and i am a true believer that this is eddie's type to the core, they're the perfect match. as a scary loud girl, her characters speak to me

✹ @chaseadrian live wire another novel worthy series that's so original and just stunning! angsty and sexy as hell

✹ @ambrossart dancing with myself this one i hold dear to my heart. i love the concept so much and so much work went into it. i love love the backstory of eddie and reader and the way the characters are portrayed is amazing. a 10/10 chrissy portrayal

✹ @munsonquinns forbidden fruit total unapologetic delicious filth. this is so sexy but also a really sweet storyline and take on eddie?

✹ @inknopewetrust hoping i'll find (a glimpse of us) if you want a one shot, this is it. wanna cry? this is it. it's like a whole short story. i have reread this multiple times and each time i do it's all i think about for the rest of the day

✹ @riotkayla finding the truth this was the first eddie series i read and i adore it. it's just such a good concept and got me hooked on dad eddie

✹ @luveline june baby and eddie and roan (single dad eddie) i feel like if you on stranger things fanfic tumblr then you know them, they've never made a bad fic but these are my favourites. june baby is like a novel, so carefully considered and written. prepare for your heart to swell twice its size

You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.” 

“Hm.” He doesn’t look up. 

“May I ask what you are doing?” 

“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.” 

Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.” 

“I am doing no such thing.” 

You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.

“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.” 

The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.” 

He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.” 

He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say. 

“Why?” 

“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.” 

Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.” 

— — — —

The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her. 

“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.” 

The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?” 

Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.” 

You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”

marauders era porn links - vol1

warning: every single one of these links contains porn.

crossed out links no longer work

vol 2

REMUS

stomach bulge

professor!remus taking his anger out on you

fucking you

coming & squirting

JAMES

you and bsf!james helping each other out

edging

good boy eats you out

in the kitchen while the kids sleep

SIRIUS

rewarding you for a good grade

choking on his cock

stomach bulge (again)

coming on his slut

PETER

so wet for him

during class

coming together

cum on your face

LILY

gryffindor party bathroom

bsfs & a dildo

she loves your nipples

grinding

MARY

grabbing your boobs (4s)

moisturizing

kissing & grinding

starving for your pussy

MARLENE

desperate

worshipping your tits

gf!marls loves your pussy

taking care of you

REGULUS

alone with stepbrother!regulus

pegging

playing with each other

pleasing himself

BARTY

tying him up

hands.

“just friends” after getting high

in his office

EVAN

he’s so hungry

he loves your hair (9s)

fucking you

rubbing against his cock

PANDORA

thinking of you

using her as a fuck-toy

double dildo

making out

DORCAS

pop a titty🙏

eating her pussy

by the pool

eating her ass

ANDROMEDA

after class

she’s so good

playing with each other

tasting you

NARCISSA

riding her face

touching her

making out

strap-on

BELLATRIX

you x rita x bella

you x rita x bella pt 2

eating you out

devouring your tits

WOLFSTAR

their dicks🫶

fucking you!!!!!!!

ROSEKILLER

alone in the dorm

taking them both

fucking (no homo)

gentle sex

[please lmk if any links aren’t working. have fun!🤭]

dumb

atsumu loves fucking you stupid. it makes up for him feeling like the dumb one in the relationship– he finna gets to turn the tables. his goal is to leave your brain all fuzzy to where you can only remember the word ‘please’ and his name.

his favorite way is holding your legs up to your ears so he can get all the way into the pit of your stomach, so deep you can’t help but let out a gut wrenching moan every time his dick hits your cervix. he loves the way you look up at him with doe eyes as he mercilessly fucks the shit out of you.

“what’s the matter baby? huh? tell me.” he teases, taking his thumb to rub your sensitive clit. you whine, blabbering nonsense out of your mouth only for him to laugh. then, he lifts his thumb up to your mouth as you obediently suck on it, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“poor baby.. i fuck you so dumb you can’t talk?.”

or, he likes when you take him from behind. he loves how he can see your arousal dripping out of your little hole onto the sheets as his dick plunges in and out of you. the combination of the white ring forming around his dick and your helpless cries turn him on so much.

“ff-ffuck baby, p-pleasepleaseplease-”

he only smacks your ass and tells you to take it every time– which you always do. even if he fucks you so dumb you can’t speak coherent sentences, you’re still so good for him.

“that’s it, mhmm. i got you, don’t even worry about it.”

he loves when you can’t do anything but squirt all over his abdomen as you cry from your orgasm. he coaxes you through it every single time, even though you couldn’t even tell him you were cumming. in this context, he’s the smart one who knows exactly when you’re coming undone. he does all the thinking for you.

@ rumisgf

“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍

a life of our own

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)

hunger games masterlist

Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.

Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.

You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.

He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.

Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.

You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.

The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.

He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.

“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.

“That’s right.”

You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.

“Anything.”

“You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real,” he murmurs.

“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.

“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.

“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”

You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.

“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”

You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.

You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.

“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Then I won’t.”

You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I’m tired,” you croak.

“You want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.

You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.

Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.

“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”

His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.

You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.

“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”

You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.

“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.

“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”

He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.

“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.

“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”

“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.

“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”

“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”

You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.

“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”

“A life of our own.”

darling, you look divine.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: eyes don't lie by isabel larosa.

author's note: screaming, crying, throwing up. if regulus looked at me like that, i'd be wetter than the black lake. please enjoy my darlings 🤎

The first symptom reared its ugly head early Monday morning. 

You were in the Great Hall eating breakfast with James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter when your skin suddenly felt like you were being engulfed by fiendfyre. The burning heat spread through your entire body, making you feel flushed and flustered. Your fork clattered against the table while you wiped the sweat off of your brow with clammy hands. 

“Are you feeling alright, love?” asked Sirius. 

You shook your head, fanning yourself. “Does anyone else feel hot all of a sudden? It feels like I’m getting burned alive.”

The boys shook their heads. Remus laid the back of his hand against your forehead. “You’re burning up, Y/N. I think you might be pitching a fever.” 

James pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and squinted. “Moony’s right. You’re sweating profusely and you look a bit peaked.” 

Peter nodded in agreement. “It might be that new dragon flu that’s going around. Maybe you should head back to the dorms, Y/N.” 

“I can’t miss class. There’s an assignment due in Transfiguration.” 

Just then, a violent cramp seized your lower abdomen. You gripped the edge of the dining table so hard that you felt the wood splinter underneath your palm. Padfoot’s eyes widened at the appearance of your claws. It had only been a month since Sirius helped you summon your Animagus form and while you still had much to learn, you’ve never lost control like this before. 

You needed to get out of there. Transforming into a giant snow leopard in the middle of the Great Hall would be very, very bad. 

“Don’t worry about McGonagall,” Sirius said in a stern voice. “We’ll cover for you. Now come on, I’ll walk you back to your room.” 

Fortunately, you managed to reach Gryffindor tower with no other incidents. After Sirius escorted you back to your dorm, he barred the door with magic and promised to check up on you after class. 

The cramps only worsened. It felt like someone had buried a dagger into your stomach and was now twisting and turning it as they pleased. You doubled over in pain and clutched the poster of your canopy bed before curling up into a ball in the middle of your mattress. Not even your period cramps compared to this torment. 

When you thought it couldn’t get any worse, an overwhelming ache blossomed between your thighs and made you groan with need. You twisted in your sheets and pressed your legs together to counteract the wave of lust coursing through your veins, but it only made it worse. You felt empty and hollow and the overwhelming desire to be filled was the only thing you could think about.

This was different from the surge of adolescent hormones that you had grown so familiar with. The desire was a living thing, sinking its claws into your very being. You felt feral, animalistic. 

You burrowed into your pillows, your breaths growing ragged as you tried to regain control. A demanding knock against your door broke your concentration. You sniffed the air, whining softly as the intoxicating scent of eucalyptus, bergamot, and sandalwood overpowered your heightened senses. A part of you recalled the warning Sirius left you with. You were not, under any circumstances, supposed to open the door unless it was him or one of the boys on the other side, but the temptation was too strong. 

As the knocks grew more insistent, the scent shifted into something sharper. You felt yourself drawn to it and before long, you were opening the door to satiate your curiosity. The person standing on the other side made your stomach lurch. 

“Regulus,” you said through gritted teeth. The very presence of the younger Black brother made your entire body shake as you contended against the urge to transform. It was a losing battle. You could feel your canines elongating, making your gums feel sore and achy. “Now is not a good time.” 

In fact, it was the worst bloody fucking time. On a normal day, you could barely tolerate Regulus. His surly attitude and cutting glare certainly left little to be desired. Then there was the matter of his falling out with Sirius, which only served to heighten the tension between you. When Professor McGonagall chose to make you partners, you at least attempted to keep things civil. Whatever was going on between your best friend and his younger brother was none of your business, but Regulus had practically made it impossible to stay impartial. 

You had never met a broodier, haughtier, snootier arsehole than Regulus Arcturus Black. The pureblood prick acted like he was a prince amongst peasants just because he happened to be born into the right bloodline. Yet a muggleborn like yourself had managed to take the top spot in every class. A spot that previously belonged to him. 

To be expected, Regulus wasn’t the least bit pleased about this. He was even less thrilled when McGonagall tasked him to drop off the latest lecture notes so that you wouldn’t fall behind in class. If she hadn’t threatened to deduct points from his house for refusing, Regulus would’ve never set foot in the godforsaken lion’s den.

He pushed his way inside, not bothering to wait for a proper invitation. “Here are the notes from class,” Regulus stated stiffly. “We’re required to transform a thimble into a thestral. I suggest you read up. I’ll not have you dragging me down just because you fancied playing hooky for the day.” 

“I’m not skipping for the bloody hell of it,” you snapped. “If I had a choice, I would be in class not doubled over in pain—” 

Regulus caught you just before you hit the ground. The dizzy spell had come out of nowhere, nearly knocking you to the floor from the sheer force of its effects. As Regulus snaked his arm around your waist, you almost wished it had. His scent hit you all at once. You whimpered as he tucked you against his side, feeling the heat of his touch even under all your layers of clothing. 

The ringing in your ears subsided enough for you to hear the panic in Regulus’ voice. “Y/N, can you hear me? Are you alright?” 

You pushed him off with what little strength remained in your body. “Thank you for the notes, but I’d appreciate it if you left.”

“No,” Regulus said. 

“What do you mean, no?

“I mean, no. Do you want to hear it in French? Non.” 

You frowned, clutching your stomach. The cramps were starting again, but it was different this time. The ache in your lower abdomen was excruciating and your current proximity to Regulus only seemed to make it worse. The slickness between your thighs certainly didn’t help the matter. It was humiliating, plain and simple. 

“Get the fuck out, Regulus!” 

Regulus caught your wrist. His fingers felt like ice against your overheated skin. “You don’t want that, darling. Not when I’m the only person who can help.”

“You know what’s wrong with me?” 

He sighed. “Of course my brother would convince you to turn without thinking about the side effects. Classic Sirius, honestly.” You glared at him to get on with it. “You’re in heat, Y/N.” 

You grimaced. There was no way in Godric’s green earth. “Like…a cat?” 

Regulus smirked. “Is that what you transform into, little kitten?” You pursed your lips, which caused him to roll his eyes. “Please, I know your merry band of misfits have all conjured an animagus form. There’s no use hiding it. So what are you? A fuzzy little Persian cat?” 

“No,” you said rather haughtily. Did he have to be so irritating? “My form is a snow leopard.” 

“Still a kitten,” he responded with a shit eating grin. “The same rules apply. You’ll be in heat for at least a week, mon chaton.” 

“You mean I have to suffer for seven whole days? This is hell. It feels like my uterus is being ripped apart. How am I supposed to endure this pain for an entire week?”

“Well, there are ways to find relief.” 

“What kind of ways?” 

Regulus gave you a knowing look. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out. What’s the purpose of heat?” 

“Reproduction,” you answered almost instantly. The realization left your mouth before your brain could even process it. Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was some sort of cruel joke. For Merlin’s fucking sake! This was horrifying. Downright humiliating. “You can’t possibly mean…” 

The grin on the stupid twat’s face was growing wider by the second. “You don’t necessarily have to have sex,” he said in an amused tone. “An orgasm will do. I’m sure you can manage that with your fingers, can’t you princess?”

You swallowed thickly. “I—I’ve never—“ 

Was it possible to die from embarrassment? Discussing the details of your sex life would’ve been humiliating under any circumstance, but this? Standing here, telling Regulus fucking Black what you were about to tell him, this was truly rock bottom.

“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.” 

“No!” you snapped. You’ve had your fair share of experience in that department, no matter how awkward they might’ve been. “I’ve had sex, I just haven’t…”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” Regulus said, entirely perplexed. “Not even once?” 

You crossed your arms defensively, which turned out to be a big mistake. On top of everything else that you were already suffering through, your breasts now felt sore and sensitive. 

“No,” you conceded with a sigh. “I don’t need you judging me for it either, so if you’re quite done then please get the bloody hell out of my dorm.” 

It may have been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn that Regulus softened just a little bit. He at least loosened his grip on your wrist, rubbing up your arm in a gesture that might’ve been soothing if it weren’t coming from him. 

“I’m not judging you. If anything, I’m judging whoever it is that failed to make you finish. It’s quite rude to leave a lady unsatisfied.” 

“What would you even know about satisfying a woman, Regulus?”

“Trust me, darling. I know plenty.” Your cheeks heated as he traced circles on your forearm. “Tell me, kitten. Have you ever touched yourself?” 

The conversation should have ended there. You should’ve put a stop to it. But this bloody fucking heat was doing strange things to your body. Your hormones were out of control and Regulus was standing way too close for comfort. So close that you could see the little golden flecks in his emerald eyes. So close that one of his curls was tickling your cheek. So close that those full, pillowy lips were mere inches away from your own. 

He smirked when your gaze dipped down to his mouth. “My eyes are up here, Y/N and I asked you a question. The polite thing to do is answer.” 

“Since when have you ever cared about being polite?” 

“I don’t, but I think you and I are playing a very dangerous game here and I quite enjoy sparring with you, ma cherie.” Regulus tilted your chin up and cradled your jaw. “So, have you or have you not touched yourself?” 

You glared up at him defiantly; a last ditch effort to keep your dignity intact. “No,” you said with your head held high. “I’ve never touched myself and I’ve never had an orgasm. Are you happy now, Regulus?” 

“Quite the opposite,” he murmured. Regulus caressed your bottom lip with his thumb and tilted his head back to study you. His eyes were almost black when they flickered back up to meet yours. “I could teach you.” 

“You want to teach me how to…” 

“Masturbate. Wank. Get yourself off?” Regulus listed matter-of-factly. “Yes. Yes, I do, ma chérie.”

It should’ve been a no-brainer. This was a terrible, horrible fucking idea. An absolute hot mess that would yield calamitous results, but the ache in your core was too painful to ignore and you were willing to try just about anything to find relief. Including trusting someone you absolutely loathed. 

“Fine. You can teach me, but that’s it. None of this goes any further than that.” 

Regulus smirked. “I won’t touch you, princess. Not until you beg me to.” 

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “So?” 

He nodded behind you. “Get on the bed.” 

That was easy enough. You crawled into your mattress and sat cross legged on top of your sheets. “Not like that. Lie down on your back and take those ghastly pajamas off.” 

Arsehole. You happened to like your red and gold striped bottoms, but to be fair, they were in the way. The mattress dipped beneath him as Regulus positioned himself at the very edge of the bed. He leaned against the wooden poster, his gaze transfixed on the sight before him. 

“I wouldn’t have taken you as a red lace lingerie type of girl, mon chaton.” You frowned in response, which only made him chuckle. “As pretty as those panties are, you’ll need to take them off as well.” 

You hesitated, hooking your thumb over the waistband of your knickers. Regulus raised a brow as if he were challenging you to back out. Like he half-expected you to be too scared to continue. He seriously underestimated that infamous brashness that Gryffindors were so well known for. 

He inhaled sharply as you slipped out of your panties and tossed the discarded lace next to him. “Spread your legs, sweetheart.” 

For once, you kept silent and did what you were told. Regulus nodded tightly. “Wider. Yeah, just like that.” 

“What now?” you asked, trying to keep yourself from blushing at this totally undignified position. You were way past embarrassment now. 

“Run a finger through your folds,” Regulus said, his voice sounding huskier than it did a second ago. He watched with dark eyes as you stroked your core. “Fuck, you’re soaked. I can see it on your fingers.” 

You took a deep breath, feeling that tension coil in your lower abdomen. Every fiber of your being buzzed with lust. “Stroke yourself, kitten. Imagine that it’s someone else touching you.” 

With your eyes closed, you let his voice guide you through the steps. You hated to admit it, but he was good at this. “Use your own slick to make it easier, darling. Gather it before rubbing your clit. That’s it, just like that. There’s a good girl.” 

The words spurred you on, your fingers working that sensitive bundle of nerves to find release. You could feel the budding orgasm. It was spreading through you, setting your teeth on edge. You were close, so close. 

When the momentum dropped, you nearly cried out of frustration. If you thought you were in pain before, this was ten-fold of that. For some reason, there was some sort of mental block that you couldn’t get past. 

You looked up, your lower lip trembling. “I can’t do it. There’s this block and I freeze up and I just can’t do it on my own.” 

Regulus looked unhinged. Like he was going to jump out of his skin any second. You’ve never seen him like this. Anything other than calm and collected was out of character for the youngest Black. 

“Will you help me?” you whispered. To be honest, you weren’t above begging at this point. 

He looked utterly conflicted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N. You’re in heat. I don’t want to take advantage when you’re in such a vulnerable state.” 

You shook your head. “You wouldn’t be taking advantage. I know I’m hormonal, but oddly enough, I trust you. You know how to keep a secret. Just please, Regulus. I’m in so much pain.” 

Regulus was silent for a moment. He seemed to be in deep contemplation. “Are you absolutely sure?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you’re aware of what you’re asking for and who you’re asking it from?” 

“I am perfectly aware, thank you very much. Is this the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had? Fuck no. Do I still want to do it anyways? Fuck yes.” 

The two of you stared at one another. Regulus clenched his jaw and then unclenched it. Finally, he sighed in resignation. 

“C’mere then.” 

He positioned himself against the headboard, his back pressed up on the wood. Regulus bent his long legs and pulled you against him, your back resting against the solid plane of his chest. You sighed as he rubbed soothing circles upon your skin, his rings kissing your hips with their cold bite. He shuffled behind you, adjusting himself just as you caught a glimpse of the two of you in your vanity mirror. 

Regulus stuck his middle and pointer finger into his mouth, making sure they were nice and wet before he moved them lower. You whimpered as he caressed the inside of your thigh and clutched the sheets as he teased along your crease. When he stroked along your wetness, a choked moan escaped from your lips. 

“Gods, you’re fucking dripping.” His cold breath fanned over your neck just as he plunged his fingers deep within you. “Salazar fucking save me, you’re even tighter than I imagined.” 

His strokes were languid, small ministrations as he buried his fingers inside of you. The cold metal rings that adorned his slender fingers hit your pubic bone every time he thrusted inside of you, but it wasn’t painful. In fact, seeing the Black heirloom ring soaked in your wetness might’ve been the most erotic sight you’ve ever witnessed.

You whimpered as his other hand disappeared underneath your shirt. “Can I touch you here, princess?” 

The sound that came out of you barely sounded human. It was a purr more than anything. Regulus caressed your ribs with his knuckles. “I need words, kitten.” 

“You can touch me, Regulus.” 

Fire skittered along your skin as his hand traveled further up. He palmed you through your bra before he slipped under the fabric and squeezed your breast. Regulus paid equal attention to both of your breasts, admiring the curve and swell of them as he picked up the pace of his fingers. You moaned as he pinched your nipples, which only made you wetter still. 

You fisted his curls in one hand as he curved them inside of you. Regulus chuckled darkly, pleased by your reaction. “Right there? Does that feel good, princess?” 

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, gods that’s perfect.” 

“You’re doing so well, ma cherie. That’s it. Ride my fingers just like that. Feels good, yeah?” 

You nodded, blinking at the image in the mirror. Regulus had his hands all over you, his lips pressed lightly against your neck as he watched his fingers slide in and out of your tight cunt. His eyes caught yours in the reflection, the green completely swallowed by dark pools of lust. 

“Look at you, all spread out for me. You’re fucking exquisite. The little moans you make are enough to drive me mad.” 

“Regulus, please,” you keened. He smirked against your neck and picked up the pace. Your head fell against his shoulder as that familiar tense built. “Oh gods. Oh fuck. Reggie—“

You felt him grip your chin, tilting it towards the mirror. “Don’t close your eyes,” Regulus growled into your ear. “Watch, kitten. Watch as I make you cum.”

When you dragged your gaze upwards, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. You were in a state of disarray, cheeks flushed, hair matted, and lips parted as Regulus pushed you over the edge. His fingers were magic and every stroke unraveled you, hips bucking, back arching, begging for more and more and more. The orgasm rippled through you like a monsoon, completely swallowing you whole. 

“That’s it, princess,” Regulus cooed. “Gods, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Darling, you look divine. Je suis raide dingue de toi.”

The comedown had you seeing stars. Behind your eyes was a whole galaxy, a cluster of constellations that you never would’ve reached without him. Regulus had made you cum so hard that your body felt like it was floating through outer space. 

When you finally regained awareness, you were surprised to find Regulus gently brushing your hair back. “How was that, kitten?” 

“That was—you were—fuck.”

“Well said, love. Shakespeare himself would envy your silver tongue.”

He slid his fingers out of you slowly and you tried and failed to suppress the little whine that escaped from the back of your throat. 

Regulus smirked, feeling the way you clenched around his digits in an attempt to keep him in place. He stared at his hand, mesmerized by the arousal dripping off his fingers. You stirred, having every intention to find something that he could clean himself off with. 

“Let me grab you a towel.” 

He gripped your hips in place and looked you straight in the eyes as he brought his fingers to his lips. “No need, princess.” 

Then he sucked, hard. The filthy image was enough to leave you gasping in shock. He lapped up every drop like you were the sweetest delicacy on this earth. Regulus groaned, his eyes rolling back as he savored the taste. The moan that rippled through him would forever be branded into your mind.

For Godric’s fucking sake, the man was downright obscene.

“That should hold you off for the rest of the day,” Regulus said. “You’ll still feel the effects of your heat, but it won’t be as bad. You might even be able to drag yourself down to dinner. If you can manage to walk on such shaky legs.” 

You rolled your eyes, but softened a bit. If it weren’t for him, you would still be in excruciating pain. “Would it be strange to say thank you?” 

Regulus shrugged nonchalantly as though you were merely discussing the weather. “Not strange at all. You’re very welcome, princess.” 

“You’re…” you took a deep breath, like your body was rejecting whatever compliment was forming in your mind. “You’re really good at that.” 

“Yeah? You think so?” 

You quirked a brow. “Fishing for compliments, are we?” 

“The only compliment I need is the sound of you moaning my name,” he said with a smile as he hooked your bra back in place and pulled your shirt back down. “I assure you that I intend to hear plenty of that in the near future. This is just the start.” 

Regulus straightened, trailing his fingers along the sheets before snatching up the red lace underwear you’d thrown at him earlier. He pocketed the lingerie and smirked. 

"You said something earlier," you recalled. "Before I..."

"Before I made you come so hard you saw stars?"

Heat flooded your cheeks at his vulgar choice of words. "Yes. Something in French. That's your native tongue, isn't it?"

"Thinking a lot about my tongue, are you love?"

You ignored the salacious comment. "What did you say?"

A devious smirk tugged at his lips. Regulus pierced you with his gaze, those emerald eyes burning with so much lust that you felt choked with desire.

"It's a secret," he whispered, his voice a deep and rough caress. "If you're good, then maybe you'll find out what my tongue and I have to say."

You rolled your eyes. "You're a pain in the arse, Regulus."

"Find me when you want to play again, princess," Regulus said with a dark chuckle. "I'll be waiting for those claws to come out. See you soon, mon chaton.”