#already tried drawing something last night but it all turned out sad and not good orz

[kel-lance]

Movie Night: fem!reader x Itadori, Megumi, Toge, Yuta Part 2

Warnings: MDNI, Group sex, camera use, teasing, humiliation, mmfmm, everyone’s bi/pan, overstimulation, worship, etc(?)

premise: You hosted a game and movie night, bc it was making and nobara s anniversary and they were going out for the weekend. Okay so sodas, pizzas, snacks, really really bad movies…. sad movies, and finally scary movies. Perfect to watch with whoever could make it to your last minute plans. Turned out to be Yuuji, Megumi, Toge, and Yuta… oh great…

————————————————

“Megumi, are you paying attention?”

“And if you want them to do this,” you yelp higher this time, more surprised than anyone that Toge knew exactly which spot Yuta was talking about. He does it again to show his underclassman, slowly this time drawing out the same noise.

“Remember what I said, if you make her come before I get to I’m unleashing mahagara on all of us.” The other guys sigh and let you go. They sit back, beaming, almost satisfied with what they got out of the moment.

You’re moved from everyone’s reach, to sitting in-between megumi’s legs, his body almost swallowing yours. His long arms tried to hide you away from the others’ greedy hands and you almost let him erase you before feeling more of him. It almost took you by surprise, that he was poking at you.

You let your head fell back onto his shoulder, wondering what face megs could be making. He’s trying so hard to hold back right now. The faint grinding of your ass onto his thighs was already enough. He gasped hard, trying not to look at you, focusing so his body could last.

You crane up and kiss his cheek, this was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Megumi never fights back against you, so seeing him trying to deny what he’s fantasized for years, you regained your playfulness and hopped off his lap.

Turning to face him, you grasp his face and pull him into a kiss, continuing his streak of pleasure. “They thought they had the upper hand because of numbers, hah.” You were surprised, they almost made you forget how they melt under your touch. You got them to keep up with you, though, of course no one else could compare to Yuuji’s.

Either way, you’ve got fresh meat now and everything from the past comes flooding back. You met tsumiki-chan in elementary school and knew she was going through hard times. You just had a knack of figuring people out as a kid and something drew you to her, more or less a curse found her because of the loss of her parents, you pitied her and exorcised it.

Megumi wondering what happened to that weird thing he used to see on tsumiki and she suddenly feels better when she’s around me? You didn’t mind as they were a fun duo, and you get how they grew up, though you had the school take you in for your sorcery instead of certain super famous super powerful super hot descendants of certain clans. *rolls eyes*

“This is my best friend’s brother, she knew about his crush but will she kill me?!” You’re brought back as you felt meg’s tongue trace your bottom lip. “She’d be happy for us.” You dive into him, pushing him back into the headboard, ignoring the other guys watching, commenting among themselves of the show before them.

You’re on all fours while kissing him into the bed frame, ass in the air, hands pressing onto his hard chest and abs. It was someone completely new, a body that you haven’t fully familiarized yourself with, yet it’s been waiting for you.

“Are you ready?” You asked, pulling yourself back to take off just the t shirt you were wearing for movie night. I mean it was your house and you asked them to come over… you could’ve started this whenever you wanted.

——switching writing style-——

- you hover over him and tease him by dipping your hips down, he’s barely entering you but still getting his raw head

- He’s whimpering and holding onto you as he cums right away and you’re loving it, giving him words of encouragement and saying how he’s so good

- He’s whisperer he’s sorry and you tell him he’s gonna fuck you as much as he’s waited for

- “She’s loving this” they chatter

- “I remember our first time…”

- “Salmon salmon”

- Tell me when you want me to move. You’re still hard, unless you need a second?

- He huffs as he holds you and says yeah

- Yuuji comes over to sit him up and hold him as he needs aftercare.

- I guess we have our order now. Don’t tire yourself out y/n yuujis bright eyes gave a lustful hint that he’s really going to enjoy todays session

- Toge pulls you to the end of the bed and has you bend kneed on the floor as he uses his fingers to fuck you into finishing and to make it easier to scoop out megumi’s cum

- He licks you clean and spits it onto megumi who both try to fight before you hazily ask them to help you do that again and you loved it

- Yuta has you sit on his dick, showing the others about the rules of your body and how to treat you until you try to move.

- He gets excited and start to go crazy with the angles and how he’ll manipulate how gravity will make you fall back onto his dick splitting you open, getting deeper and deeper, getting more intense, so intense you gave up breathing until the involuntary gasping comes.

- There was no one else but you two, his hand grabbing at your throat to keep you up, the other hand across your womb, feeling himself through and jerking his hips. Your arms were pinned by his chest and behind your back. “Yuta, plea-“ That was the final straw, he didn’t care anymore. Taking his time? Saving his energy? Fuck that, he’s known you once, letting you love him was a huge step from coming out of “neglectbernation” or his hermit phase, but he couldn’t choose between his trauma and you, his past or his future, Rika or you. You knew he didn’t need her, you were fine with it actually when he broke the curse, but then he started to be weird about it. almost forgetting that you and rika weren’t the same person, that you weren’t a body replacement for her, it just was bad to be around so you left, noticing that he and toge started to hang out together more if they’re not watching u.

- Anyway from this position if he lets go of the weight of your whole body falls onto his cock, and he bounces you back you in ease. This would be so hot if the other boys weren’t trying to claim your face

- Yuta was the most fixed on you while toge was the most needy. Yuuji was the most clingy and Megumi was the most yearned.

- Toge come over here and help us out. Toge puts himself in you too, you can feel yuta digging in deep from behind while toge rubs against your g-spot or is that your bladder?

- You don’t know as yuta holds you up between the two boys.

- You lol your head to the side and the boys nip at your neck and ear and kiss at each other, tongues twirling before they separate on soft parts of your body

- Toge pulls himself out and brings your head down on him. Changing angles yuta rhythmically pounds into you from behind. The angle making him feel larger, you waste no time taking toge in your mouth, you tasted megumis cum, your own juices and the precum of the other two.

- This was an average Tuesday tbh, sometimes yuuji comes by to watch, sometimes we just record and watch later with everyone.

- Right now could be a good time, maybe they set up a camera somewhere before you milked Megs.

- You’ll think about it later, right now why don’t you give him a show.

- You held yourself up with your hands, sometimes with your knees. Putting your hands on the back of his hips to pull and push him into your head rather they bob your head all around.

- You pull him all the way into your throat, letting him adjust and lose himself into the tight wet hot hole. Yuta moving you all around was also aiding in his pleasure.

- Looking up trying to get a glimpse of his pretty purple eyes, you loved being able to hear his voice, so him whimpering had you all sorts of messed up

- Yuta knew it too, his voice being so pretty though demanding, it was so cool. But he also knew because you’d squeeze in him whenever toge got loud.

- Megumi couldn’t stop watching you, he could only admire you, his best friend holding him as he caught his breath.

- He was eating up every angle of you, Yuuji also watching intently, patiently. His bulge was grinding into Megumi, his hands teasing and sensually grabbing at the mess you’ve created. “He could control himself.” We all hoped.

————————————————-

A/N: Next ch is 3/9 (megs fr this time, yuuj, n sukuna. (And finishing off these two.))

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #jjk #inumaki toge #jjk x you #jjk yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #toge x reader #inumaki x reader #jjk inumaki #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji #jujutsu itadori #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #taaotjjk #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut

[intheticklecloset]

Haikyuu!! Coffee Shots #111-120

A collection of the Haikyuu Coffee Shots I've done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

111) Lee Suga, Ler Kageyama

Kageyama was startled awake by a hand slapping him in the face.

At first he jolted upright, immediately on alert, but when he saw the room of sleeping boys around him, he only frowned in confusion. His first thought was Hinata, but the redhead was lying on a pallet a few down from his, snoring loudly.

Just as he was beginning to think he’d hallucinated the slap, another flailing limb came flying at him. This one he managed to block before it made impact, and he was ready to turn around and snap at whoever was messing with him, but then he stopped short.

It was Suga. He was fast asleep, but it most definitely did not look like he was enjoying it.

“Whoa,” Kageyama breathed, surprised and a little scared, gently grabbing Suga’s shoulder and shaking him gently. “Hey, wake up.”

It took a moment, but eventually Suga’s eyes snapped open, startling Kageyama all over again. For a moment, they just looked at each other.

“Kageyama,” Suga slurred finally, blinking a few times. “What is it?”

“You…I think you were having a nightmare,” the younger setter replied, frowning. “You kept slapping me, and you looked really upset.”

Suga groaned. “Oh. Yeah…thanks for waking me up.”

“Do you, uh…want to talk about it?”

“Not at all,” the older boy replied with a little smile, “but thanks.”

“Okay.” Kageyama shifted a little, seeing how sad his upperclassman still looked. He recalled all the times Hinata or Noya or Tanaka – or sometimes even Suga himself – would tickle him to help him cheer up, and he reached a tentative hand down to scribble lightly at his friend’s side.

Suga jerked and smiled, his eyes already closed as he tried to settle back in to sleep, but he made no move to stop him, so Kageyama kept it up, tickling lightly and drawing a tiny giggle here and there. Feeling emboldened, the dark-haired boy searched for his belly button through his shirt, and that’s when Suga finally let out a laugh and pushed his wrist away.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, peeking one eye open. “I appreciate it, though.”

Kageyama blushed a little, slightly embarrassed when he finally realized how bold he’d just been. “Uh…yeah. Good night, Suga.”

“Night, Kageyama. Sweet dreams.”

The younger boy smiled at that. “You, too.”

*

112) Lee Hinata, Ler Kageyama

Hinata was already giggling hysterically, and Kageyama hadn’t even touched him yet.

The setter smirked at him. “What’s the matter, boke?”

“Y-You…you’re gonna do something, I know you are!” Hinata whined, smiling uncontrollably. He tugged but his wrists were firmly trapped above him; it hadn’t been difficult for his taller friend to win their little wrestling match and pin him down like this.

“Am I?” Kageyama asked innocently, flashing his fake vampire teeth. He looked sharp in his suit and cape – probably why he’d decided to be a vampire for Halloween two years in a row – but Hinata remembered what those teeth had felt like last year, and he just knew he was going to get a refresher again right now.

“Yes, you are!” Hinata pouted. “You’re going to bite me again!”

“Bite you? No, no, no.” Kageyama gently grasped his side, not squeezing yet but threatening to. “I’m not a blood-sucking vampire like I was last year, boke. This year I’m a tickling vampire. I feast on your laughter~”

“I knew it!” Hinata squealed as his friend finally began squeezing, unable to do much else thanks to the redhead’s costume of choice for this year. The fabric was thick and it was a one-piece outfit, so the setter couldn’t make contact with his bare skin. Hinata had hoped that would keep him safe, but of course, Kageyama found a way through his defenses no matter what. “Ahahahahaha! Kahahahageyama!”

“Now I’m going to bite you,” Kageyama replied, leaning down to gently sink his pointy plastic teeth into his friend’s neck, wincing at the loud shriek he emitted right into his ear. “Laugh for me, little shrimp~ Your laughter tastes soooo good~”

“Nahahahahaha that’s weheheheheheird, Bakahahahageyama!”

“Weird?” Kageyama snorted. “You’re dressed as a crayon, you idiot. I don’t even want to hear about weird from you.”

“Buhuhuhuhut it’s cute! And eheheheheasy to wear!”

Kageyama bit him again, squeezes moving up to his ribs now, making Hinata laugh even harder. “And just as easy to tickle you in, boke.”

*

113) Lee Noya, Ler Asahi

“I’d call you a wimp if you weren’t so cute,” Noya said, grinning at his upperclassman.

Asahi looked at him, wide-eyed and slightly panicked. “What? Cute?”

“You’re older and bigger than me! You’re supposed to protect me from these kinds of movies, not the other way around.”

The two of them were spending the night at Asahi’s house. It was the end of October, and in the spirit of the season Noya had suggested watching a horror movie. Asahi didn’t like the idea to begin with, and now that they were halfway through and he was scared out of his mind, he liked it even less.

What he liked least of all, though, was Noya’s cocky attitude about the whole situation.

“Shut up,” he said. “You know I’m a sensitive soul. Why would you make me watch this at all if you knew it would make me freak out?”

“Because it’s funny,” the libero replied with a smirk.

Asahi leveled a glare at him that only made his friend laugh, then snatched up his ankle and scribbled his fingers into the bare sole. “You think this is funny? You want to laugh about something? Take this!”

“Aieeehahahahahaha! Nahahahahaha Asahi!” Noya cried, clutching his stomach while flailing his free leg helplessly. “Dohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me!”

“You seemed in the mood to laugh at me, so I’m only helping you out, Noya,” Asahi replied, feeling mischievously wicked as he grabbed the libero’s other leg and locked both of them under his arm, scratching mercilessly at the arches of his feet. “Besides, this is a good distraction for me. Maybe I can even get through the rest of the movie this way.”

“The rehehehehehehest?!” Noya cried, arching his back off the couch, laughing even harder. “But we’re ohohohohonly hahahahahalfway done!”

“Hmm,” Asahi muttered noncommittally, settling in for the long haul, still tickling. “Too bad for you, then.”

Noya squealed when Asahi honed in on his toes, tossing his head back as crazed giggles spilled out of his lips, pounding the cushions. “Ehehehehehehehehe! You suhuhuhuhuhuck, Asahiehehehehehe!”

Asahi reached up and gave his thigh a threatening squeeze, making Noya shriek and nearly fall off the couch. The movie was long forgotten by both of them at this point. The ace grinned at his friend. “Keep calling me names and I’ll make you scream louder than any of the girls in this movie, Nishinoya.”

Noya’s eyes widened and his cheeks went red, but it was clear that he was enjoying this sudden turn of events if the way his eyes lit up at that threat were any indication. “Not a chahahahahance, you wihihihihimp!”

Asahi threw himself at the smaller boy, tickling him relentlessly and – true to his word – making him scream so loud he put all horror movies on the planet to shame.

*

114) Lee Noya, Ler Asahi

In theory, a massage had sounded heavenly. Flexible as Noya was, he still experienced some tightness and discomfort now and then, but especially since he’d lunged for that ball during their last practice and landed awkwardly. He’d been in some pain since then, mostly in his lower back from where he’d twisted in midair and then slammed into the ground.

Now, though, as the little four-legged massager hummed across his skin, he was regretting ever letting Asahi talk him into this.

“If you keep squirming like that it’s going to make it worse,” his friend told him, a clear smile in his voice.

Noya gritted his teeth and clenched his biceps – his arms were crossed above him with his head resting on them like a pillow – even as a snicker or two escaped from him.

“Cahahahan’t help it,” he managed, gasping when Asahi maneuvered the vibrations back to the spot closest to his lower ribs. “It’s tihihihihickling me!”

“We both know my hands would be much worse.”

It was true. Noya was so sensitive the slightest brush got him wiggling and giggling in seconds flat; using an actual massage tool was the only way they were going to get through this – assuming they’d get through it at all.

The massager slid over toward his other ribs, and Noya squeaked and started to roll onto his side, but a strong hand pressed against his shoulder and forced him to stay put.

“Here,” Asahi chuckled, and it was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing. “Let me help you.”

“Ahahahahaha you jeheheheheherk! You’re dohohohoing this on purpose!” Noya screeched out the last word when Asahi very intentionally let the massager linger on his lower ribs for more than a couple of seconds this time. The libero’s legs kicked behind him frantically. “Ahahahahahasahi!”

His friend just laughed with him and started guiding the vibrations over every ticklish spot he knew of to get the poor libero cackling in no time. “What? Laughter is just as good for you as a massage would be!”

*

115) Lee Kageyama, Ler Hinata

“Hinata!” Kageyama squealed, weakly gripping the redhead’s wrists as his fingers flew over the taller boy’s torso. “Quihihihihit it!”

“No way, Kageyama!” Hinata beamed like the ray of sunshine he was, chasing his friend down every time he twisted away or tried to shove at his shoulders or pry his tickling fingers from his ribs. “You’ve been giving me that puppy dog look all day. I have to tickle you now! You know I can’t resist!”

Puppy dog look?! Kageyama felt himself flushing in embarrassment as well as with excitement.

“I hahahahave nohohohohot! I’m—GYAH!! WAITWAITWAIT!!”

Hinata cackled like a witch as he dug into the spot just below Kageyama’s ribs, forcing him to his knees and eventually all the way to the floor. “Aww, look how big you’re smiling~ You love it, Kageyama. Don’t try to lie your way out of this; we both know it~”

“HINATA PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!” The setter was howling with laughter now, sneakers scrabbling at the hardwood floor of the gym, jersey gradually coming untucked as he writhed. Hinata kept it up, kneading into that special spot on his ribs over and over, watching with satisfaction as his friend fell apart laughing his heart out.

“What’s that? ‘Please keep going’? I was planning on it!”

Kageyama thought he couldn’t possibly laugh any harder; turns out he was wrong. He arched his back with a scream as his redheaded friend slipped his fingers under his traitorous jersey and scribbled freely at the bare skin of his tummy. “EYAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! HINATA!!”

“Look at you! It’s like I’m riding one of those American broncos!” Hinata giggled. “Tickle, tickle, ticklish Kageyaaaama~”

At this point, Kageyama knew it was pointless to fight or protest in any way. He was cornered and they both knew it, so rather than expel his energy on trying to pretend he didn’t want this, he finally surrendered and let himself enjoy the tickling, his laughter shifting into something more childlike and carefree than before.

Hinata’s eyes lit up with victory. “There you go! Just let it alllll out, Kageyama. You deserve it!”

*

116) Lee Asahi, Ler Daichi

After Asahi’s third failed spike in a row, Daichi turned to him with a frown. “What is up with you, Asahi?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Asahi stammered, rubbing his face with his hands and pacing in circles. The others on the court exchanged glances. It was obvious he was freaking out, but why now? Why this game?

“Hey,” Daichi caught his friend by the shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes. “It’s going to be fine. You know that.”

Asahi groaned. “I don’t know that! I’m missing everything you send at me. I shouldn’t do this; I’m not ready. Put me on the sidelines; I’ll only slow you all down—eep!”

Daichi kept his finger in his side even after giving it a good poke to shut him up. “I’m not sidelining you.”

“But—hehehey!”

“What are you so afraid of?”

Asahi did his best to hold still and take it, but he couldn’t help the way he crumbled at the wiggling finger in his side. “Dahahaichi, stop it! Not in front of them!”

The team captain glanced over his shoulder at the rest of their teammates, who gave him various encouragements such as thumbs-up from Noya and Hinata and a more subtle nod from Kageyama and Tsukishima.

“Looks like they’re cool with the intervention. Clearly you need it.” Daichi turned back to his friend who was now trying to shuffle backward, a nervous smile on his lips. “Brace yourself. This is going to tickle. A lot.”

Asahi gasped and turned to run, but Daichi had him wrapped in a tickly bear hug from behind faster than he could take two whole steps, and soon the other boy’s giggles filled the air as he squirmed in their captain’s hold.

“Hehehehehehey! Nohohohoho! Daichi, I’m fihihihihine! I dohohohon’t need – stohohohohop it!”

Daichi smirked at the higher-pitched cackles he got when he dug his fingers into Asahi’s ribs. “Sorry, but I don’t believe you. I think another minute of this is necessary.”

*

117) Lee Noya, Ler Asahi

It was a good thing it was Halloween and the entire street was filled with the sound of screams, because Asahi had Noya screaming like a madman and for once it blended in perfectly.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Noya begged, thrashing against the bed in a ticklish frenzy. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP ASAHI!!”

Asahi smirked down at him, checking to make sure the toy handcuffs he’d bought as a prank were holding and not chafing Noya’s wrists. “Calm down. I need to test your nerve endings before I unleash you upon the world.”

He found the spots at the back of his friend’s ribs that always got him wheezing with silent laughter. Sure enough, Noya dissolved into utter hysterics, too far gone to even care whether he was making noise or not.

After a few torturous moments Asahi let up on his assault and let Noya catch his breath, ruffling his hair and checking the handcuffs again. “Are you all right?”

“P-Plehehehease, Asa—doctor,” Noya giggled breathlessly, his keeping with the role play letting his friend know he was hanging in there. “You’ve made me too sensitive…”

“On the contrary.” Asahi got up and moved a little further down the bed, smiling at Noya’s panicked anticipatory giggles. They were playing Dr. Frankenstein and his monster, deciding to be a little more childish than usual on this festive evening.

Asahi grasped Noya’s ankle and scribbled across his foot, grinning at his friend’s resulting cackles and squirming.

“It’s imperative that I make you as sensitive as possible so that you better understand what it’s like to be a human being.”

He scratched at his toes and Noya tossed his head back and exploded into belly laughter that was a rare treat for them both. “Plehehehehehehease!”

“One final test,” Asahi mused, climbing back onto the bed and kneeling between Noya’s legs. Then he smirked and pulled out an item he’d been hiding all evening – a toy claw that they had learned was incredibly tickly to the poor libero.

Noya gasped and pulled uselessly at the handcuffs. “No!”

“Oh, yes.” Asahi firmly grasped his leg above the knee and dragged the claw along his friend’s inner thigh, and Noya let out a scream that could rival any haunted house. “I made sure to make this the most sensitive spot of all.” Then, unable to help it, he broke into an evil kind of laugh. “Mwahahahaha!”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASAHIIIIIII!!!!”

*

118) Lee Kageyama, Ler Hinata

This year, Hinata knew what Kageyama was dressing up as for Halloween. This year, he was prepared.

Their first year, his best friend had caught him by surprise. Last year Hinata had tried to compensate with a costume that was bulkier and would offer a bit more protection – which didn’t work very well at all.

This year, Hinata was going on the offensive.

When he knocked, Kageyama opened the door without any dramatics. He’d done that already; it was old news now that they were third years. But he was still dressed as a vampire – complete with cape and pointed teeth – and he still looked immaculate.

But not for long.

“What are you supposed to be?” Kageyama asked, frowning at his old-school getup.

“I knew you’d be a vampire again,” Hinata replied, smirking, “so I decided to be Van Helsing. And I’m taking you down, you despicable creature of the night!”

Before the setter could react, Hinata had tackled him to the floor, hopping on top of him to keep him from rolling away.

“Hinata!” Kageyama snapped, frantically undoing the clasp of his cape that had gotten caught beneath them in the scuffle. Once he could breathe easier, he growled, “What are you doing? You’re messing up my costume!”

“I happen to know vampires can only be killed with a stake through the heart,” Hinata said grandly, brandishing a wooden toy dagger that he’d had attached to his belt. “But lucky for you, I don’t want to kill you. I just want revenge.”

“What—ah!” Kageyama spasmed when Hinata began prodding the base of his ribs with the dagger, making him break into a smile and giggle despite himself. “W-Wait – whahahat are you—?!”

“Take this, vampire!”

Kageyama squealed and burst into giggles when the dagger continued to prod at one of his most ticklish spots, then broke into full-on laughter when Hinata used his free hand to dig into his belly.

“Ahahahahahaha! Hinatahahahaha, wahahahahait! I was gohohohohoing to go threehehehehehee for three!”

“Oh, I know. And I’m sure you will. But I was determined to get the jump on you first this time!” Hinata expertly warded off one of Kageyama’s flailing arms and dug his dagger in even deeper, making Kageyama shriek with laughter.

The setter desperately clawed at him and cried, “Okay, okahahahahahay! You gohohohohot me! Plehehehehehease!”

Hinata tossed the dagger aside with a triumphant smirk, but then he snatched up Kageyama’s wrists and pinned them down, hovering over him menacingly. “Oh, and one more thing…”

Kageyama really should have seen it coming, given that he’d attacked Hinata this way two Halloweens in a row. But it still shocked him into squealing giggles when the redhead leaned down and bit his neck with pointy, tickly teeth.

“Hinatahahahahahahaha!”

Hinata grinned. “Now, wicked vampire, my vengeance is satisfied!”

*

119) Switches Daichi, Asahi, and Suga

“Name five holiday movies,” Suga said, reading off the card in his hand before flipping over the timer.

To his left, Daichi dutifully and easily listed five holiday titles before his time was up. Then he drew a card.

It was the Christmas break after they’d graduated from high school, and the three former third-years from Karasuno had managed to find a single day to reunite and catch up and mess around like they used to in all of the chaos of visiting their families and whatnot. They had plans to go to dinner in a short while, but for now they were passing the time playing this game.

“Name five winter activities,” Daichi said to Asahi.

Asahi named three, then struggled with the last two so much that he ran out of time.

“I’m not used to thinking about winter sports,” he whined with a slight chuckle, reaching for a card.

“No one said anything about sports. The card said ‘activities’,” Suga reminded him.

Asahi pouted, then read off his card. “Name five Christmas characters.”

Suga did so, easily. When he reached for his card, he paused. “You know, this is almost too easy.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Daichi replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Asahi muttered, but he was grinning.

Suga hummed. “Why don’t we add a twist to some of these?”

“Like what?”

“Well, for example…” Suga glanced at the card. “Daichi, name five Christmas carols, and we’ll try to distract you.” Then he flipped the timer.

Daichi started, “Jingle Bells, Silent N-ihihihihihihight?! Whahahahat – hehehehehey!”

Suga grinned, digging into his ribs while watching the timer. “Five seconds!”

“Ahahaha! Uh…G-Good Kihihihihing Wehehehehenceslahahahas – Ahahahahahasahi!” Daichi protested when his other friend started tickling his opposite side. “You guhuhuhuhuhuys!”

“Time’s up!” Suga announced proudly, ceasing his attack.

Daichi let out a few leftover giggles and grumbled, “No fair…”

“Of all the Christmas carols out there, you thought of ‘Good King Wenceslas’?” Asahi asked, dumfounded.

“Not all of us struggle with basic concepts, Asahi,” Daichi teased, reaching for his side in revenge.

“Hehehey! I hahahahaven’t beheheheheen given a prohohohompt!”

But it didn’t matter, because soon Suga was joining in with Daichi, and then he and Asahi turned on Suga, who immediately dissolved into his hyena laughter when they scribbled at his belly.

“Ehehehehehehehe! Stahahahahahahahap!”

Daichi and Asahi exchanged amused glances. “He still has that laugh, huh?”

“Dohohohohohon’t make fuhuhuhuhuhun of mehehehehehe!”

But they weren’t, and Suga knew they weren’t, and soon the room was filled with the sounds of all three of their laughs as they took turns tickling each other just like the old days at Karasuno High.

*

120) Lee Hinata, Ler Kageyama

“Hinata!” Kageyama snapped as he was pulled forward without warning, connected to his friend via oversized scarf.

“I got it!” Hinata declared proudly, holding up the chocolate he’d dropped on the ground. He began unwrapping it without a care in the world, oblivious to Kageyama’s glare in his direction.

Noya, as a joke, had given Hinata a way-too-large scarf for Christmas, which Hinata had of course worn proudly despite tripping over it several times. When the two of them had sat down to lunch, he took one look at Kageyama shivering in the cold wind and insisted they share the material for a little while. Kageyama had been secretly grateful at first, but now…

“Would you stop darting all over the place?” the setter cried as he was once again pulled forward against his will when Hinata went chasing after something the wind tried to snatch away. “You’re going to kill me!” He’d already almost choked on his milk and barely been spared from biting into his own finger instead of a carrot stick.

“Don’t be dramatic, Kageyama,” Hinata replied, sitting back up again. “Would you rather be cold?”

“At this point, yes!” Kageyama huffed. At the sight of his friend rolling his eyes, something inside him reacted automatically. He grabbed Hinata around the middle and yanked him closer, trying to get under his coat to tickle his belly and sides without looking like he was assaulting the redhead.

“Ah! W-What are you – Kageyahahahama!” Hinata squealed, realizing immediately the danger he was in but far too late to try and escape it. He giggled preemptively, squirming in the setter’s hold. “Dohohon’t be such a wihihimp! Next time I wohohon’t share my scarf with you – ah!”

Kageyama smirked victoriously. “Gotcha.”

“Nohohohohohoooo, Kageyahahahahahama! Dohohohohohon’t!” Hinata pleaded, giggling helplessly as his friend scratched and scribbled at his belly and hips as much as he could reach under his bulky winter coat.

“No fun being stuck to another person when you can’t get away, is it, Hinata?”

“Yohohohohou’re the one who agreheheheheheheed to this!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

“Yehehehehehehes!”

Kageyama abandoned all pretenses and tackled his friend to the cold ground, unzipping his coat in a hurry to get to his ribs – his real weak spot. Hinata threw his head back and cackled hysterically, kicking and squirming all the while, but the scarf connecting the two of them made certain he wasn’t going anywhere fast.

It all ended up being much more fun than either of them anticipated.

#fanfiction #tickle drabbles #coffee shots #sentence starters #compilation #haikyuu #hq #kageyama tobio #hinata shoyo #nishinoya yuu #asahi azumane #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi

[pinievsev]

Hii 🥹🥹 it’s my first time asking for a junghoon ( xikers ) story!! Can you please do one!! I would love if the story vibes was a ( school but stranger at first , child hood friends to lovers ) vibes!! I BEGAN FOR THIS PLS🥹🥹🥹🥹💗💗💗💗💗💗

WINDOW

Xikers junghoon x gn!reader

Warnings: pretty short? Crying I guess?

Genre: fluff with some crying.

Enjoy!

(back in middle school)

You shook as you entered the school bus, your old school had shut down which meant moving away and having to go to a new one. You slowly walked all the way to the back, looking down.

You sat next to the window, it was foggy because of the cold so you decided to reach up and draw a small cat on it with your finger. You loved drawing cats and you loved drawing them on windows.

"Cute" you jumped when you heard a voice behind you say. You turned to see a boy about your age, he had short dark hair and the cutest cheeks ever (don't be weird you lot).

"Oh- thanks!" You said smiling at him. He extended his small hand "I'm junghoon, I'm new here". Your eyes immediately lit up as you took his hand in yours to shake.

"I'm y/n" (I hate using that.) " I'm new here too!" You said excited. The boys smile widened, mirroring your own. "We should be friends then." He declared and you agreed.

From then on you and junghoon were inseparable you'd stay together almost all the time at school, you'd go over to eachother's houses every day and have sleepovers every weekend. Until, well. He had to go.

(In highschool)

"What do you mean you're leaving?" You asked him. It was 11pm and you could hear shuffling from the other side of the phone "I have to leave for college, my mum doesn't think the one here is suitable for me." He said, he sounded sad. But it was true, you lived in a small town. He wouldn't have many opportunities here. "But, we still have 4 years until college..." You sniffled "I know. Now open up" he said followed by a knock on your window.

You looked up from your bed to see junghoon outside your window, shaking like a leaf. You rushed to open it up and help him inside before shutting it. "Holy it's so cold." He complained under his breath. You simply stared at him waiting for an explanation. "Right. I know we still have 4 years until college, but my mum wants to be sure I can go to this exact one. I tried to talk to her but she already booked our flight. Tomorrow at 8am."

"8am..?" He nodded "I have to be at school by then" you muttered. "I know that's why I'm here silly" he laughed and opened his arms for you. You hugged him immediately. You did have other friends, 2 to be exact but. He was your best friend.

"I'll miss you" you muttered "me too. I'll come back tho, I promise" you nodded and looked at the clock 12:30pm "it's late" he followed your gaze with his own "I have to go." He said letting go and walking towards your window. You gave him one last hug before he was out and you closed the window. Before you turned around you saw him drawing something on the window, a cat. As soon as he finished his drawing he ran off.

You smiled at it, reaching for your phone to take a picture of it.

(2nd year of college)

So, you had finished your first year of college in your hometown, but your mum decided it wasn't good enough for you (reminds me of someone) and send you to Seoul at the start of the summer, so you get used to it.

You had your own apartment pretty close to campus and you had already met with the principal and discussed everything.

On another note, it's been 5 years since you last saw junghoon, but you hadn't forgotten about him. You had a picture of the both of you on your night stand as well as the picture you took of the cat he drew on your window.

(Tiny time skip)

Currently, you were walking to campus. It's been a week since the semester started and you've been seeing this one guy around a lot but he always had his back turned for some reason, he seemed to have a lot of friends tho, since he was always surrounded by people.

You made your way to your friend sitting on a bench, you had met her in your first class of the year and she was pretty cool. You sat down next to her and tapped her shoulder "can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead" she replied turning to look at you "who's that?" You pointed at the boy across the yard, his back turned once again. "That? That's junghoon, he's pretty popular I'm surprised you didn't know" your eyes went wide as you shook your head "thanks." It can't be him can it? What if it is? Maybe he'd forgotten about you ?! You panicked.

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang, heading to your first class. It was cold outside, just like the day you met and the day you lost junghoon. Ironic. You sat next to the window, reaching up and drawing a cat on it out of boredom. You turned to your notebook to note down what was on the board then turned back to the window, only to see someone had drawn the exact same one on the window across campus.

You used your hand to wipe away the fog, hoping to see who it was. Could it really be? You watched as the other person wiped their own window clean of the fog, and there he was staring back at you.

Your eyes widened and so did his, you waved and he smiled at you, none of you were yet too sure, he reached up to the part of the window that he hadn't wiped and quickly wrote "outside, after school". You only wrote back an "ok" and turned to pay attention. Hoping the day would end sooner.

Once it was over you walked over to a bench in the yard, you had told your friend you'd stay back for a bit and luckily she didn't question you.

5 minutes passed and you saw someone exiting the school. He looked straight at you and immediately all your doubts were gone, the same dark hair, the same adorable cheeks.

He stared at your for a few seconds before straight up sprinting towards you. You stood up and caught both him and you as he collided with you, making you stumble.

"Please tell me it's you" he sounded hopeful "only if you tell me it's you too" you replied. You felt him hug you tighter and you chuckled. Pulling his face from your neck to look at him better "what do you think? Is it me?" You asked and you saw his eyes scanning your face, you saw the tears form In them and the way his his breath hitched.

"It is." He declared surely after a few seconds. You nodded and went to hug him but to your surprise he had other things in mind.

He caught your lips with his. To say you expected it would be a lie. However, you weren't complaining about it. You reciprocated the gesture and after a few more seconds he pulled away.

You were both now crying. He only looked at you questioningly and you nodded back, none of you trusting your own voices at the moment.

You stood there unsure of what to do. Until you cleared your throat and spoke up "so.. we have 5 years worth of things to talk about. Where to?" He smiled and pecked your lips before grabbing your hand "I know a good ramen place nearby" was all he said before pulling you along.

---------

A/N

okay I actually had fun writing this and tysm for the request!

( TAGLIST: @junghoonateezzanti, @mashiluvs , @radiancewrite , @ujihemmo , @och405o , @xuxibelle , @miss-cassie, @cam-phoria-stay , @laskyy )

#fanfiction #kpop #xikers #kpop x reader #xikers junghoon #junghoon x reader #junghoon #xikers x reader #xikers fanfic #xikers oneshots #ask

[bmodiwrites]

I'll Dial Drunk

Hi friends! I'm back with something that's been brewing since Noah Kahan released the extended version of his newest album. Dial Drunk is the motivation for this one - I hope you like what my mind cooked up! There will be a second part, so be on the lookout for that. You can read I'll Dial Drunk below or over on AO3. Please like, reblog, and let me know what you think!

The mahogany under Steve’s arm is slippery like grease, covered in both sweat from the bar’s patrons and slick from the coating used to keep its shine. He tries not to look down at the reflective surface – his mirror image is just as bad as the one Steve projects out into the world and he’s already depressed. Seeing examples of his downfall never helps.  

For the fourth night in a row, Steve sits at the far corner of The Hideout, sipping a drink. There aren’t many lights that surround him so Steve is usually unbothered and undisturbed while he drowns his sorrows in whiskey and rum. After so many years of isolation, that’s how Steve likes it. He doesn’t know how to converse with strangers anymore – his allotted charm hit it’s peak so long ago that Steve can’t even remember what normal interaction is actually like.

Tonight is somehow different. There’s a charge in the air that Steve can’t seem to push past or ignore. He takes a deep breath, testing out the oxygen level in the room. Though it supplies him with what his body needs, Steve can smell the lingering anticipation.

Or maybe, he’s just really fucking drunk.

The whiskey in his hands is warm by now, the ice he ordered in it all but melted and watering down the drink. Steve throws it back anyway, well aware of the waste it would be if he doesn’t. His money isn’t something he can just throw away now. With so much agony following him around, disappearing into his mind isn’t beneficial. These days, it’s easier to live in the back of his head than exist in the real world – working a job included. It’s lonelier there, sad in so many ways that a lack of steady income doesn’t even break into the top five.

At least in his head, Steve is surrounded by the family he once had. Dustin and the kids aren’t gone yet, the sleepy little town they all grew up in hasn’t chased them away. They’re available for him outside of the holidays that blow by in a haze of too little time and so much to do every time his surrogate kids come back to see their families. His mind perfectly preserved the happy moments where Steve is at his best and not lonelier than any man should be.

What’s lacking in his real life, Steve clings to in his thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, Steve also keeps a perfectly rendered picture of the one that got away tucked back there, mingling with all of his other good memories. In his head, Eddie Munson is bright eyed and 21 years old. There are scars that mark him but beauty radiates from him all the same. In the handful of years since Eddie turned him away, Steve’s mental picture and it’s clarity hasn’t changed a single bit. He can’t forget dimpled smiles and chocolate button eyes that were so easy to love – no matter what drawing up that vision costs him.

And the toll of clinging onto such memories is so very high. Steve struggles to make it from day to day after nights where Eddie and the kids live in the forefront of his mind. When they’re tucked away and out of sight, Steve can almost forget the pain that radiates from his chest and magnifies as it goes down. He can do his job and wake up in the morning without too much heartache. For some of the long days, Steve manages with barely a passing thought for those who left him behind.

Days like today are impossible, however. Hell, the last few days haven’t been all that good. After hearing about Eddie on the radio, Steve is stuck in the moments where that brilliant man was his - even if they are few and far between. The alcohol numbs the need to desperately seek Eddie out, to run across Hawkins and demand to be taken back. Yet, it enhances the want for him, for the life they should’ve had even more. The impossible conundrum is neither solved nor soothed by whiskey on the rocks, though Steve keeps drinking all the same.

How can he not when thirty came and went last fall and Steve’s not any closer to being where he wants in life or with the people he needs so very desperately? As the world turned on around him, Steve dug his heels in and tried to stop it from spinning him off his axis. This place, this town - it’s all he’s ever known. After all the trauma, Steve is certain he made the right decision to stay right where he is, consequences be damned.

A loud bang a few feet down the bar draws Steve away from his melancholy, all sad thoughts halting. A new group is starting to get passed the point of socially drunk – the ruckus they’re going to cause is a little more than Steve can take at the moment. Instead of asking for one more like most nights, Steve signals to the bar tender, requesting the check.

“All done for the night, Harrington?” Gareth asks, a worried look on his face. Steve watches him glance between the rowdy group and himself. There’s a tension there that Steve can’t quite place. Despite being one of the bars best customers, Gareth seems eager to have Steve gone.

Instead of wondering why, Steve’s drunk brain grasps onto the question the bartender asked. “Sure am. Gotta save a little of that liquor for the next time I’m here.” Steve tries to smile but it falls flat - there’s nothing nice about being a drunk and knowing it. The hilarity of the situation is long gone now that Steve is stuck in this rut and can’t seem to get out.

After making quick work of his change, Gareth nods at Steve and turns back to help the other group demanding his attention. Steve shakes his head to clear it, then starts his trek over to the main entrance. He’s wobbling and a bit tipsy on his feet but they eventually start to work and clumsily carry him across the room. Of course, they can’t whisk him away fast enough to avoid hearing something that is guaranteed to set him off.

“Did you hear the freak is back in town?”

“Yeah, man. I saw him at the coffee shop with his uncle. Still as freaky as ever.”

“I don’t know why that Munson kid ever comes back. He’s never been welcome here.”

With each new scathing remark, Steve forgets himself a little more. Despite not being Eddie’s for a long time now, Steve can’t help the way his heart lurches anytime someone speaks badly of him. There’s so much this stupid town doesn’t know; Eddie is a savior and part of the reason Hawkins is still standing. He wonders briefly if they would think differently of him if the truth were to come out. Though, that’s quickly brushed away in favor of the rising anger Steve isn’t even trying to control. Why should he when there’s nothing to lose?

Turning around, Steve makes quick work of stumbling back over to the group who’s now cackling madly. There’s a moment where Gareth looks at him, even shakes his head, but Steve ignores him. It’s already too late to turn back now. How can he, anyway? Eddie’s never deserved the hand he was dealt. After a decade, the trash talk needs to go away for good.

“I’ve never liked that word – freak. Especially when it’s coming from boys like you,” Steve says, squaring up his shoulders to bring himself to full height. He’s surrounded on all sides by assholes but he’s not afraid. For the first time in a long time, Steve feels alive.

The leader of the group, some Jason Carver wannabe, turns to Steve, looking him up and down. There’s recognition that’s quickly diminished into a hatred only people in Hawkins can understand.

“What makes you think I give a shit what the town drunk has to say?”

There are snickers following the attempted insult; this ring leader has all of his flunkies trained well. Steve ignores them, however, setting his sights on the guy dumb enough to step up and take the bait. Despite not being athletic anymore and a little older than he was, Steve knows he can win a fight. There’s been more than a few in this very spot that ended in victory for Steve. He’s not afraid nor cowed by a jackass who talks about something he’s got no business even bringing up.

“You care enough to turn around and clap back. I’d say you’re pretty invested.” Steve smirks at that, knowing he’s got this guy right where he wants him.

As expected, the man takes a step towards Steve, his fingers clenching. “I would watch yourself if I were you. 7 to 1 isn’t much of a fight.”

Without thinking or even trying to act rationally, Steve smiles wider – his eyes darkening. “I like those odds,” he mutters a second before drawing back his right arm and swinging.

The punch lands right where he wants it. Steve is happy to see that the guy is all talk and no action. He blows back against the bar like he’s been hit by a truck, not a simple thing like Steve’s fist. His face is pinched into a grimace that gets worse when he sees the rest of the group just standing there staring.

“You’re just going to let him do that to me?” Steve’s victim roars, his hands that are covering his nose muffling the sound. A few of the guys jump into action while the rest take a step back. They’re smart not to take on a crazy person without anything to lose.

For what seems like hours, Steve fights them off. He throws punches and lets a few glance off him to get the advantage. By the time there’s blue and red flashing lights in the window, everyone is sporting at least one black eye and Steve’s knuckles are torn open, each one of them bleeding enough to leave track marks down the side of Steve’s shirt and jeans. He looks murderous and Hop says so as he’s putting him into cuffs.

“You look fucking rabid, Harrington. Ain’t nothing worth this.” Hop’s words are harsh but his hands are gentle on Steve’s wrists. They’ve been through this song and dance a few times before. All because of Eddie – always because of that damn boy.

“You don’t even know him anymore, Steve. Why do you do this to yourself?”

Steve contemplates that answer all the way to the station while he sits in the back of Hop’s squad car. The fifteen minute drive is enough to sober him somewhat, though there’s still a long way to go before clarity sets in. His mind is addled but one thing is clear, Eddie is always worth the punches Steve throws. Always.

After getting dragged into the station, Hop throws Steve into a chair in front of his desk. He sits down heavily, the tiredness of getting his ass kicked starting to set in. They both know exactly who Steve wants to call but Hop makes him wait. They toil in silence for ages, staring at each other but not seeing. Glancing but never quite making eye contact.

When this first happened, Hop tried his best to guide Steve. To this day the man feels like a father figure that Steve never had in his own daddy. Yet, Steve is and always has been too stubborn to do what’s best for himself. He’s ruled by emotion that weighs him down and forces him to remain stagnant. He’s stuck in the past where genuine happiness exists - even if it’s just for those handful of months. Steve doesn’t want to forget the way his heart pounded or the shape of Eddie’s lips against his own. Every trip to the police station is worth it. It has to be when Steve has nothing left.

It’s obvious that neither of them are going to talk so Hop huffs out an impatient breath before reaching for the phone on his desk. Steve usually dials the number but Hop doesn’t let him this time. His fingers glide over the buttons, the rhythm of it like music to Steve’s ears.

There’s a singular moment where Steve thinks Hop isn’t going to hand over the phone – a look in his eyes that Steve can’t quite decipher. Though, it’s gone as fast as it came; the receiver is in Steve’s hands before the slightest idea of what Hop is thinking comes to the surface of Steve’s drunken mind. Everyone has their problems, that much is obvious.

Like every time before, Hop leaves him to his own devices. After the call went unanswered the second time and Steve flipped out, Hop’s taken to giving him some privacy. Despite his misconduct, the town’s sheriff doesn’t actually want to arrest Steve. There’s too much history to allow a small misdemeanor to truly ruin Steve’s life. This, the handcuffs, the time spent in the station – it’s all a familiar procedure now. The choreography is soothing in a world where Steve knows there aren’t guarantees. At least some things never change.

The continual ringing of the phone in his hand pulls Steve back to the present. Usually, there’s a couple of half assed rings and then a long dial tone before the operator hops on to say the number has been disconnected. After Eddie pushed him out the door a decade ago, the trailer’s number never worked again, despite the millions of times Steve dialed it time and time again. The disconnection of that bond still stings, so Steve is perplexed to hear the ringing continue. It goes and goes until there’s a click and a miracle truly happens.

“Munson residence, this is Eddie.”

Steve’s breath catches and for a second, he forgets himself. He forgets that he’s been trying to get through for years and years. Steve is suddenly back in his bedroom with that voice whispering in his ear. It’s like 10 years of hurt and pain no longer exist.

Then, reality comes crashing back.

“If you’re one of those fuckers calling to yell about damnation, you can save it!”

Gasping, Steve clings to the here and now to reply before the call is hung up.

“Wait, wait. Don’t go, Eddie!”

There’s silence.

Then –

“Steve? Is that really you?”

“Yeah, Eddie. It’s me. I can’t – I can’t believe you finally picked up. 10 years later.”

“How did you – never mind. Where are you? And why are you calling?”

Steve scoffs, his emotions all over the place. “I’ve been calling for years – just to maybe hear your voice. Of course you finally answer when I’m stuck in handcuffs at the police station. How fucked is that?”

A chuckle sounds down the line, the vibration of it genuine and true in Steve’s ears. He wants to cry from the relief of finally hearing such a happy noise again. It’s insane knowing how much better he feels just from that one second of joyful sound.

“You called me as your one phone call? What would’ve happened if I didn’t pick up?”

“Well, you never have before. Hop usually throws me in the holding cell and lets me sleep it off. I cry for a bit and then drop into an exhausted slumber where I dream about you. Pretty standard stuff.”

“Oh, Steve – “  

The tone of Eddie’s voice is raw and pitying – any other time, Steve would’ve lashed out in order to protect himself and his pride. Yet, he’s too weak and relieved to hear Eddie at all that Steve let’s it slide. He clings to it, even – the dulcet tones of worry are better than the silence that usually follows him around.

“I’m okay, Eddie. Drunk and bruised up but okay. Better than ever now.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but sit tight, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

Steve can’t process the words so he hums and holds the phone tightly to his ear, keeping it there even after Eddie hangs up and the dial tone is all that’s left. Steve clings and clings until Hop walks back into the room and takes the receiver from him.

“He picked up this time, Hop. Must be my lucky day.”

Hop looks at him for a moment, contemplating whether Steve needs to know that he dialed the right number instead of the one Steve always uses before deciding against it. He simply smiles in Steve’s direction, placating the drunken boy who still feels like a son. For so many years, Hop watched Steve drag himself down. Tonight, putting him in the car was just too much. Hop isn’t all that certain Wayne won’t hate him later but Steve’s happiness is worth whatever backlash he may get. This thing, the isolation between two kids obviously still gone for each other, has gone on long enough.

Steve and Hop wait at the desk until the station’s front door opens. For Steve, the entire world stops – there’s no spinning on an axis or time passing him by. There’s only Eddie.

Despite 10 years continuing on, Eddie isn’t much different. There are a few laugh lines around his eyes and a new scar over his right eyebrow. He’s a little heavier because exercising is for the weak but that’s about it. Steve is transported back to the easy days when summer vacation and what’s for lunch were his only worries. His fingers itch to bury themselves in the thick strands of curly hair still hanging past Eddie’s shoulders, kinky and long as always. Steve wants so much that he’s overwhelmed and completely mute the entire time Eddie and Hop discuss the situation.

By the time Hop is taking him out of the cuffs, Steve’s drunkenness has reached a critical level. It’s difficult to hobble out to the car, even with the warm press of Eddie against his side. Steve is so intoxicated that he can’t even enjoy the rare gift that being next to Eddie is. He’s happy to simply be there with him, to sit in the passenger seat of a new car that smells like Eddie and the burn of Marbolo Reds. Steve can only smile and nod when Eddie asks him questions. There’s no cognition of what he’s being asked to do or say but Steve is happy all the same. For the first time in a decade, he drifts off to sleep without a semblance of tightness or misery sitting in his belly.

——

“Hey there, Stevie – “

The all too familiar voice has Steve turning over, a soft smile on his face. He can tell it’s Eddie talking to him, there’s no mistaking the affection that sounds in his ears, yet the outline of his body is hazy and unfocused. Steve reaches up to rub at his eyes but it’s no use. The achingly familiar tease of Eddie just barely out of his reach is so familiar, Steve knows he’s dreaming.

Despite that, he extends his arm in Eddie’s direction. Steve’s fingers throb with a desperate need to touch, the ache so very familiar. Like usual, Steve gets so close that the feeling of Eddie’s leather jacket under his skin is almost tangible. While the memory of that touch lingers, the real thing hovers away for no justifiable reason. Steve’s come to the conclusion that he’s not allowed happiness. After so long, he’s used to never getting what he wants.

The sound of a coffee maker beeping draws Steve out of his restless dream. He blinks awake with a heavy sigh, both frustrated and glad to be free of that glorious torture – at least until he manages to try and rest again later. Stretching in hopes of forgetting the turmoil already setting in, Steve leans into the feeling of his muscles loosening. He’s sore enough to know a fight occurred without the memories having to resurface. A quick flex of his hand drives that reality home tenfold. There are cracks and cuts across the skin, though they’re lacking the caked on dry blood that’s usually looking back at him. In fact, all of his injuries have been taken care of.

With this newfound knowledge, Steve finally takes in the rest of his surroundings. Instead of the corner of a jail cell, Steve is reclined on a decently comfortable couch. There is a pillow under his head and a handmade blanket over top of him. Everything smells familiar, like Eddie’s cologne and the natural musk of a well-loved home. He’s startled to realize that whatever happened last night isn’t a dream his hopeful heart concocted.

That’s further proven by a cup of coffee being pushed into his hands a couple of minutes later. Steve is so dumbstruck that it takes a second for his body to cooperate. Eddie patiently waits in front of him until there’s no risk of spilling hot liquid. Despite the warmth of the drink, Steve takes a handful of desperate sips before even thinking about taking on whatever’s coming next.

Surprisingly, it’s silence that follows. Steve watches Eddie drink his coffee. In return, those brown eyes stay on Steve, too. There’s some sort of stalemate happening that’s not going to be broken by Steve. He’s too busy soaking Eddie in while the caffeine of the coffee is absorbed into his blood stream. Little by little, Steve gets a better grip on himself – his heart starts beating fast, it’s normal reaction to Eddie so close. Instead of the sluggish drunk of last night, Steve becomes the person he truly is.

A lost soul with a lot of unresolved feelings.

Eddie must see that because he finally breaks the ice developing up between them.

“You look like shit, man.”

Forgetting himself for a second, Steve can’t help but laugh. His chest heaves with the unexpected intensity of such an emotion. For a minute at least, Steve chuckles until there are tears streaming down his face.

“Fuck – I forgot how much you make me feel.” Steve takes a second, let’s himself calm down. Then, he trucks on. “I am shit, Eddie. Have been for years now. I can’t believe you’re actually here. I thought I dreamed last night up.”

“Trust me, I’m very real.” Eddie stops for a second, inelegantly staring Steve down. “It’s crazy to think my first adventure back home is with you. After all this time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“You’re shitting me, right? Nothing’s changed? I called you from jail last night, Eddie. Like I’ve done at least a dozen times before. Everything has changed.”

Eddie has the decency to look embarrassed, his big brown eyes watering up before he blinks the moisture away. Steve can’t help but want those tears to fall, to see some sort of emotion that comes close to Steve’s own. After a decade of thinking about this moment, Steve is lost in a sea of overwhelm, unable to doggy paddle effectively. He wants so much, it’s hard to process what’s actually happening.

Though, he eventually gets himself together enough to ask the question burning up his mind. “Why did you pick up now? I’ve called plenty of times when you were in town before. The phone just rang and rang until the operator popped on to tell me I’m an idiot for calling a disconnected number. I’ve been listening to that recorded message so long it’s a comfort to hear.”

Steve isn’t ready for the sudden infiltration of his space but deals with it when Eddie takes up the couch cushion next to him. Their thighs are inches from touching, the heat between them tangible. Steve so desperately wants to lash out and push Eddie away, to return the treatment he himself received. Yet, the comfort of a familiar body next to him is too much to handle. The fight leaves Steve within seconds.

“Hop dialed for you last night. He put in Wayne’s new number and you finally got through. I don’t know why he waited so long to share it with you, Steve. I’m suddenly aware of a lot of things I didn’t know.”

The bubbling pit of sadness Steve deals with on a daily basis drops a little further into his stomach. The realization that Hop could have helped him long ago settles in, making Steve feel heavy. It takes a second or two to come to the understanding that though it hurt him, Hop was trying to protect Steve, too.

“He was trying to save me, I’m sure. From this,” Steve says, waving his hands back and forth between them. “I’m a very weak man but that’s nothing compared to the fall out that’s about to come. Now that you’re here, I see very clearly that I’m going to have to give you up again.”

Tears are falling down Steve’s cheeks long before he realizes it. His shirt, or maybe Eddie’s because it’s a touch too tight across the chest, is getting wet, the collar collecting his sadness by the second. Steve is too tired and wrung out to reach up and swipe at each traitorous one. Instead, he lets them flow.

A soft hand on his chin stops Steve’s spiral. Guitar calloused fingers are so recognizable it’s like they’re 20 again, touching for the first time. Though, that thought jolts Steve back to reality and he shifts away. Little tastes of things he’s never going to be able to keep aren’t good for him. He’s an addict that isn’t anywhere near following the path to recovery. This bump, this small little hit, it’s going to put him back years.

“Don’t do that, Eddie. Don’t touch me like it’s not going to kill me. Don’t pretend that you care.”

“I do care. I’ve cared since before Vecna came in and destroyed our lives. I left because I care, Steve. Why can’t you see that?”

A red flash of rage swims in Steve’s vision. He’s much to hungover to be having this conversation but it’s happening, nonetheless. Steeling himself, Steve says the things he’s wanted to since the separation occurred.  

“That’s bull shit. If you cared, you never would have left. You never would have turned your back on me.”

“Steve, you shut me out. I told you I needed to leave for your safety and mine. I said I had to go because this town doesn’t forgive or forget. We were getting death threats every day. You, me, my uncle – even the kids. I couldn’t put you guys through that anymore.” Eddie’s voice rises, his anger peaking. “You decided you weren’t going to talk to me anymore. That the distance between us was too big to handle.”

“Because I needed you! I needed you to be there for me. You left right after my parents did, abandoning me like them. You took off without asking me how I felt about it. I would’ve braved every single person in town who thought they had the right to say something to or about you. Hell, I punched that guy last night in the face because he let your name fall from his lips. You’re worth the fight, Eddie. Even now.”

Steve’s so lost in his anger and resentment that it’s impossible to continue. If he says another word or thinks another thought, Steve’s positive he’s going to explode. There’s so much he wants to scream in Eddie’s face but none of it matters. Eddie is crying and Steve, despite the time and baggage between them, can’t stand to see the sight. No matter how often he wished to cause Eddie the same pain Steve deals with daily, he can’t deal with the reality of it. Without thought, both of his arms wrap around Eddie’s shoulders and pull until they’re chest to chest, hugging each other tightly.

For now, it’s the only thing they can give to each other, unresolved issues be damned. Steve knows that by the way all the fight leaves Eddie’s body. He feels it in the squeeze Eddie gives him back. There is no resolution or simple answers in sight. After so long, there might never be.

Leaning into Eddie’s touch, Steve comes to the conclusion that this right here, coming back together after years of miscommunication and anger, is everything and nothing, the perfectly imperfect way things work out following desperate hurt and sadness that separated entities meant to exist as one. There’s no way of knowing what happens next but Steve is content to rest in Eddie’s arms.

There, he is safe.

There, Steve can feel whole again.

In the moment, that’s all Steve really needs.

tag list (message if you’d like to be added): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @corrodedcoughin, @prettyboisteveharrington, 

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #bobbie writes #i'll dial drunk #dial drunk series

[thetarttfuldickhead]

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

14.

Another fucking draw. At least they’d actually scored in this one (Obisanya 26, Tartt 74), but what good was that when they let the other team net the ball just as many times? Jamie stared morosely at his Lynx collection, trying to muster the energy to change out of his kit. He was sweaty, his hair was a mess, and his side ached dully from a nasty tackle near the final whistle; taking a shower would be heaven. But he was too tired to move.

It wasn’t so much the game that left him exhausted, even though it sure took its physical toll. The past ten days had been a mad flurry of setting up surprise after surprise for Roy, and that had involved more gift hunting, eavesdropping and secret sneaking around than Jamie had ever thought he’d get up to. Between that and football and team Christmas bonding there’d barely been time for sleeping and eating.

And after all that, he still hadn’t called Mummy. He’d tried to, every single night, but he just. couldn’t. do. it. Apparently his efforts still weren’t up to scratch, which was baffling, to be honest: how fucking sad was Roy that not even the truly fanastic stuff Jamie had pulled for him had made him happy? Christmas was only days away, and Jamie was running out of both ideas and time. Could he get Sade to actually write Roy a song… ? Might be too much, though, even if he managed to figure out how to sort it. It’d give the bugger a heart attack or something, and that would make Keeley sad and probably not count as him doing a nice thing, even if it’d be dead unfair of the universe to blame him for Roy being a frail old man.

Perhaps he could invite Dani out for another brainstorming session; it had worked a treat last time. Jamie was pretty sure that Roy had appreciated his gifts and gestures, from what peeks he’d managed to sneak of the man. Just not appreciated them enough, apparently.

It also seemed like maybe Roy was getting a tiny bit suspicious. Yesterday, he’d kept turning his head every this way and that, and sometimes stopping dead in the street and whirling around, looking a little wild-eyed. At one point Jamie had had to dive behind a couple of large rubbish bins to avoid detection. That was a pair of perfectly ripped trousers he’d never wear again.

Fuck, but he wished that—

“Jamie, are you feeling well?”

Jamie turned to look at Sam, who had stopped by his cubby, already changed and with a concerned pinch to his kind face. He looked just slightly, slightly hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if his question would yield an answer or something sharp and snide. Jamie made an effort to smile. “Yeah, bruv, I’m sound. Just, you know, tired of not winning.

“It is disappointing. But, thanks to you it was a draw instead of a loss. And it was a very nice goal too.”

At the praise, Jamie felt his smile grow easier, more sincere. It had been a very nice goal, hadn’t it? Good of Sam to notice. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks mate. And yours were great too, you know?” he added, remembering what Dr. Sharon had said about how acknowledging other people’s accomplishments did not diminsh Jamie’s own.

The way Sam’s lips curled into a wide grin, mirroring Jamie’s own, and the way the sight of it made Jamie feel warm had him thinking she was onto something there.

“Thanks, Jamie,” Sam said simply, and gave him a friendly nod before walking back to his own cubby.

Still smiling, Jamie finally began to undress.

---

Once he was showered and changed and Ted had somehow talked them all into feeling determined and hopeful rather than dejected, Jamie hefted his bag and headed for the door. On his way out he passed by Keeley and Rebecca Welton, offering a smile to the former and a polite nod to the latter.

Keeley lit up when she saw him (and fuck, but that still did things to him, didn’t it?). “Hi, Jamie,” she said. “Listen, I was wondering if you could stop by my place tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about some new tweaks to your brand, now that you’re playing again?”

Jamie perked right up at that. Talking to Keeley and discussing his brand? Fucking brilliant. Much better than spending another day trying to figure out what would possible make Roy Kent happy enough to appease the universe into letting Jamie call his mum.

He’d been working hard. He deserved a little break. Besides, hanging out with Keeley at her place might well yield some new Roy related ideas.

“Yeah, mint, yeah,” he said. Then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Or, actually, no, I can’t. The team’s doing a day trip Winchester Christmas Market after our recovery sessions. Sorry.”

He was, too. As much as he was growing to appreciate the lads and was looking forward to the trip, he’d rather spend some time with Keeley (and his brand was in sore need of some brushing up, ‘cause people were still being cunts and hung up about him walking out on City and Amy and stupid shit like that).

“Oh.” Keeley looked disappointed, which cheered him a little. “Tuesday?” she suggested.

“Sure, yeah. I mean, I’ve got training, but I could drop by after? Unless you wanna… “ He nodded towards her closed office door.

“No! I mean… No. There’s been… there’s an issue with the ventilation, yeah, it smells awful in there. Like dying animals and farts and baby vomit. Blegh. You don’t wanna go in there.”

Uh, yeah, no thank you, he sure as hell did not. Jamie made a face. “Yeah, all right,” he said. “I’ll just come by yours then?”

She nodded, looking relieved. “Great! Thank you, Jamie!”

“You’re all right.” He gave her another smile, Rebecca another nod (and noted that she for some reason seemed like she was struggling not to either roll her eyers or laugh, which was kind of rude, considering how hard Keeley worked for her and all, and she really should get Keeley’s office sorted), before heading out to his car.

So. Fun trip with the boys tomorrow – maybe he’d find something nice for Mummy and for Roy at the Christmas market – and then hanging out with Keeley the day after. So-so playing and his mummy issues aside, life wasn't so bad.

#jamie's christmas carol #fic #my stuff #keeley jones

[pbandjesse]

I'm sitting in the ER. This is not how I thought today was going to go.

I shouldn't be to terribly surprised. I slept horribly. Like I was so excited to sleep in our new house. We already ran into a homeowner problem and our shower won't get hot. Fixable but something we couldn't deal with last night. We each took room temperature showers and went to sleep.

I was tossing and turning a lot last night. My breathing was bad. I was wheezing a lot. And my throat hurts so bad. Every time I swallow I grimace. It was pretty terrible. But that didn't really dampen my excitement for being in our house.

I really love the placement of the bed. And when the sun rose it made the room glowy and warm.

But even though I was really happy about that I felt like garbage. I was trying to convince myself I was well so I could go to work. So through my grimacing I got dressed. And James made the bed. And James packed me a little lunch. And I thought about staying home. But instead James drove me to work.

We would stop for hash browns. That was painful to eat but tasted good.

When we got to camp I was very surprised to see that the office has a beautiful new red tin roof! Very cool! I would learn later that it took 3 days to install.

James was trying to be supportive but I was struggling talking and they were struggling to hear me and I kept having to repeat myself which was very painful and I was getting very upset. James would head out with the car to do some chores. We decided they would come back for me around lunch.

I would occupy the first hour with checking my emails. Drawing my sticker of the day. And working on my example document for my workshop this weekend. This was nice and I felt productive. Even if I physically felt really bad.

Sarah would come in soon and was sad to hear I wasn't feeling good. But her and everyone else was really excited to hear about our trip to Disney. Which I was excited to talk about despite it been a little painful to talk.

I would have a nice morning overall though.

I got to help with some stuff. Me and Sarah drove up to Yukon to measure mattress covers. Forgot the keys and the tape measure and had to go back down to the office. Oops.

I would also help Elizabeth compile wedding interest emails for 2025. I was struggling but at least I was doing stuff.

I had originally asked James to get me at 1. But around 11 I asked them to come at noon. But they misunderstood and said they had planned on leaving at noon. But they would split the difference and come at 1230 when it was realized the confusion.

I was so happy to see them. I was so excited to go home. It would take a while to get home. I was drifting off and my head my lolling all over the place.

When we got home I was surprised the house was a little smokey. James has burned some butter. But that was okay but didn't smell or anything. All I wanted was to lay down.

I had to put a few things away. But it didn't take long. James came and tried to baby me. Sweetp was there. I was so cold.

I got my light up mirror and looked in my throat and was surprised by how inflamed and swollen it was in there. I had spit up a little blood earlier. I was worried.

I don't like going to the doctor. I avoid it. I have no fears of the doctor but half the time when you go because you're sick they tell you fluids and bed rest. Duh. But this felt more serious. I asked James to call our PCP and ask what to do.

They told James to take me to urgent care. But I was so tired. We negotiated and decided I would sleep for one hour and then they could take me.

It was actually really good sleep. I didn't wake myself up a bunch. I was cold but James out a heating pad on me and I went right to sleep.

When I woke up I didn't want to be. I didn't want to go to the doctor. But James said we had to.

I filled my new diet coke cup with water. My throat hurts so bad but I thought it would help sooth it a little. James would run around the house for a bit because they couldn't find their keys (had fallen into a shoe??) And I sadly sat in my studio until they were ready to go.

They were really nice at patient first. We didn't have to wait to long. They did a bunch of tests on me. No strep or COVID. But the nurse kept going "oh honey..." When she looked in my throat. The doctor who came back to look at me said he thinks it's an abscess and if it gets worse it could close off my airway. Terrifying. I was very close to tears.

They told me I needed to go to the ER. I did not want to do that. But he insisted. So after taking my blood and winding my white blood count was elevated, James would drive me to the ER.

And that's where I am now. With a dying phone. I am also super hungry. I'm going to wait to post this and update it as the night goes on. We have been here a while now, and will continue to be for a lot longer I'm sure. There's 50 people here at least. And it's been very confusing but at least every staff member has been so nice.

We are still waiting. I'm considering asking James to take me somewhere else. But a sweet boy just bought a pizza and shared with a few people who have been stuck here for hours. He's refusing money because he believes the karma will come back to him. What a sweet heart.

After someone who came in right after us was told there was still 50 people ahead of him we started calling other hospitals. We left Bayview and went to Union memorial around 8. And while it's much smaller and quieter, it is also full. And tensions are high?? Two people have stormed out. One girl has been verbally accosting the security guard. Like we're going to get seen eventually. At least it's quieter.

Progress! After an hour wait we have made it to a room! I am very excited to be laying down.

Someone has come back to speak to me. And she does not think it's an abscess that will choke me. But she is concerned. And it looks like I may be out on steroids but I am waiting to hear more. I am absolutely exhausted. I cannot wait to go home. I hope it's soon.

So after a bit more waiting (and my phone dying) they declared that because both of my tonsils are swollen it is not an abscess and I just have tonsillitis. An infection. They gave me steroids, a very strong ibuprofen, and a drinkable lidocaine and I already feel a lot better. My heart rate was high so they wanted me to sit and drink water to get it to calm down.

Taking the lidocaine helped but it was horrific to take. It was like a jelly and I gagged and almost threw up. I did warn everyone before hand because I knew that would happen. But at least it helped quickly and I don't feel like I'm drowning anymore.

We were free to go after they checked my heart again. And I was thrilled.

We just got home and I'm charging my phone. Im going to wash my face and James is going to bring me ice cream. And then hopefully I can just fall asleep.

I already let Alexi know I wouldn't be in work tomorrow. And James took off too. So I get to be babied a bit tomorrow. And I'm hoping that I can just feel better. Do some drawing. And rest.

I hope your night wasn't as eventful. I love you all. Goodnight

[mothgodofchaos]

Surprise

Chocolate chip cookies are Engi’s favorite and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Engineer x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 579

After your fifteenth time trying to bake in space, it was really not looking up for you. The texture was wrong, or you forgot an ingredient, it was always something. But then you finally got a batch you were happy with. You stayed up all night making sure they were perfect. It wasn’t a lot, but space travel for Amazon deliveries hadn’t been fully developed yet, and you weren’t going to try and configure something together with anything you had on board, risking an explosion with your luck. You set the cookies in the kitchen, covered with a cloche and set away in a cabinet. Sleepy but excited, you turn into your cabin for the night, hoping that his birthday goes the way you hope it will. You close your eyes, hoping for the best. In the morning, the ship is quiet. Normally bustling with life, you wonder to yourself if they’ve already started the celebrations or the set up without you. You walk into the canteen and find Marcus by himself, sipping coffee by the window. You fill up your own mug, joining him in the comfortable silence. “Good morning captain.” “Good morning Marcus.” He tips his mug to you, gazing back to the stars and planets as you slowly cruise by. He seems a little sad this morning, and you can’t help but wonder if the rest of the crew has been avoiding him for the sake of the surprise party later. You feel bad, resting a hand on his shoulder, to which he almost spits out his coffee at. “Happy birthday, Marcus.” “Th-thank you captain! Haven’t had anyone else tell me that yet…” Yep, your suspicions were correct. Your mind goes to anything to pass the time before the party, and wanders back to the cookies you made last night. You didn’t know when you were going to give them to him, but now seemed like the perfect timing. Grabbing his hand, you lead him over to the kitchen with a laugh, to which he squeaks at the gesture. “Sit down Marcus, I have a surprise for you. Don’t peek~” His face goes bright red as he does what he’s told, sitting on a bar stool with his gloved hands covering his face. You take out the cookies, setting them on the counter before grabbing a sparkler, setting it in an empty glass and lighting it. It’s dark in the kitchen, and you didn't feel like turning on the lights, but you can still see the blush on his face. “And, open them!” You pull the cloche off in a dramatic reveal, him uncovering his face at the same time. His eyes light up with stars, the sparkler reflecting off of them, creating galaxies that draw you in. “Captain, did you make these??” “Happy birthday, Marc~” He gets up, hugging you tightly as a small tear runs down his face. You grab a cookie with a small chuckle, holding it out to him. He tries to take it with his hand, but you hold it up to his mouth. He takes a bite, blushing hard, but clearly enjoying the cookie. You hesitate for a moment, before kissing him hard. He stumbles out of it upon release, a little stunned. “Sorry, you had some chocolate on your lip~” He squints at you before laughing, wiping some on your lips. “Looks like you do too~” At least you had one way of keeping him distracted until the party.

#engineer #iswm engineer mark #iswm engineer #markiplier ego #markiplier engineer #in space with markiplier #engineer marcus #engineer x reader #captineer #gn!reader #head himbo #chaoswrites

[fatherramiro]

Fic-Specific Asks: for "and we'll go dancing ('til it all starts over again)" - can I request BTS & For Want Of A Nail (what happens to Ramiro and Ángel in an AU where they never have to board the Kerberos?) Please and thank you!

YES GOOD OKAY this is going to be long but, here we go! For those who haven't read the fic yet, here is the link!

Behind the Scenes - The passage I've chosen is as follows:

He was waiting for Ángel to roll him over onto his stomach and make quick work of it. After all, that was how his previous encounters with men had been. No one had wanted to stay for long. But Ángel seemed content to keep Ramiro on his back, drawing pleasurable sighs from him over and over. 

So, originally, this fic was going to be smuttier and talk a lot more about Ramiro's past relationships. I truly think that Ramiro hasn't had a lot of long-term romantic relationships in his life, and just as he becomes the first person who's ever loved Ángel back, Ángel is the first person who's ever loved him back as well. I've always interpreted Ramiro as being someone who'd want a partner, someone who loves him and who he can be himself with (which is what Ángel also wants, if he'd ever admit it). Ramiro is used to being left behind, at this point in his life - he's never been in reciprocated love, he's on his own, even his faith is somewhat gone. But then there's Ángel, who's not only made this grand declaration of how he sees him, but is showing that to him physically in this moment. It's not just about Ángel's pleasure, it's not just about Ángel getting off, it's about Ángel making Ramiro feel good in the same moment. That, in my opinion, is the more definite moment of Ángel being honest about his feelings in the fic - because Ángel's a good liar but he doesn't lie in this moment with his actions.

For Want of a Nail:

(warning: sad ending)

If they don't have to board the Kerberos, if they're not wanted men, I think they still talk about leaving Spain together. Or even just going somewhere where they're able to hide, where no one will find them and know them and they can just be Ángel and Ramiro. Maybe they even plan it - Ramiro saves up as much as he can and Ángel tries to hide some money away as well. They'll escape and they'll be free.

But this isn't some sort of bedtime story for children, and the world is far too harsh for a happy ending. The night they're supposed to leave, Ángel is caught slipping away from the house. His mother gives him an ultimatum: either he can stay, and get married, and live the life he's supposed to be living, or she'll have Ramiro arrested for stealing the money Ángel was hiding away. Facing the idea of losing Ramiro to prison, Ángel makes the last selfless decision he'll ever make. He doesn't go to Ramiro that night.

Ramiro waits at their meeting spot all night. When he tries to return to the house, to make sure Ángel is alright, he's told he's been dismissed. He's out on the street with just his belongings and a desperate hope that maybe Ángel will still escape. That they'll be together.

He's at the church on the outskirts of town one evening, praying for a miracle or guidance or something, when Ángel arrives. But before Ramiro can talk to him, or even approach him, the priest is there. He congratulates Ángel on his upcoming wedding and says they certainly have much to discuss. Ángel looks like he's facing the noose, but he nods and forces a smile and says they do.

Ramiro can't stay. He can't listen to this, he can't bear this sudden shrieking grief inside him. So he gets up to leave, half thinking of how he'll leave the town tonight. He'll return home to Portugal, and he'll rebuild something there. He will endure this. He will survive this.

He stops at the church door though, and he hesitates once before turning around. The priest is already halfway to his office but Ángel is standing there, looking at Ramiro with unguarded adoration.

For a moment, they simply look at each other. They see each other. And then Ramiro shuts the door.

He never sees Ángel again.

#boat blogging with julian

[graces-mindscape]

A Demon-Vamp side story; Truth/Conclusion.

My eyes flutter as my mind slowly comes back into consciousness. I groan as I try to sit up again, my body feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds. What happened? I rubbed the back of my neck as I sat up, trying to recall the last of the details. I had woken up this morning, like always..then it hit me like a bolder......we got attacked....the hellhounds! I ended up in Gabriel's house! It all came rushing back. I looked around the room; it seemed like I had fallen out of my chair. I noticed Gabriel cleaning something up in the kitchen, he soon took notice of me.

"Grace!!! Thank goodness you're awake!"

he set down a plate and came over to me, looking up and down as if examining me.

Nnnn.....urg, what happened?

"You passed out right after I gave you that drink." he replied

Oh.

I begin rubbing my sore head as Gabriel sighs.

"Grace...there's something I have to tell you." he said with a sad expression.

What is it? Why do you look like you're upset?

"......something happened in those woods. After you fought the hellhounds. Someone was standing beside you. I just happened to be flying by. I couldn't get a clear glimpse and the moment I got closer, they ran away. whoever he was...he saved your life. You know there's NO cure for a hellhound wound, and you know you should've died that night. And....in a way.... you did."

I look at him starting to get a little annoyed.

What are you talking about? You're not making any sense!

He sighs.

"What I'm trying to say is- ...Whoever that was, whatever his reason to save you, it wasn't just anyone."

he falls silent, the words so hard to say.

"Grace.....you've been turned into a vampire."

I froze. the words felt like lightning.

Wh-What...? But- It- That's impossible! I-It can't be...There's no such thing as-!

before I could finish, I noticed Gabriel looked a little offended.

S-Sorry. I didn't mean it like that.

"Grace, whether you like it or not, it is possible, and it did happen to you."

my heart started to feel like it was going a hundred miles an hour, my hands started to shake, my eyes frantically darted around this way and that. Gabriel grabbed my cheek and carefully turned my head to look at him.

"calm down..." he says softly "those are just your heightened senses kicking in"

I glare at him.

Heightened senses?? I grab his shirt, annoyed, as I start to yell

I already HAVE ADHD, how much MORE heightened do my senses need to be???

my anger slowly turns to sadness as a subtle but painful thought sets in.

I-If...I really AM a vampire, then that means that-.......that means I-.....tears begin to swell as I gasp

I-I'll have to-......Gabriel frowns with a sad look in his eyes right as he pulls me into a hug.

I-I'm scared Gabriel.... I don't want to hurt anyone...

"Hey....I know. Everything's going to be ok. I have a friend who has resources that will help you. You wont ever have to hurt anyone. I promise."

he smiles as he slowly lets go.

"Now, why don't you go wash up and get into a clean change of clothes?" he smells the air as he gives me a look of disgust.

"You reek of hellhound ash."

I look up at him a little sadly before nodding my head.

"There should be a few clean clothes in box in my closet leftover from my mom, one of those is bound to fit you."

Yeah......ok.

I get up and give him one last sad look as I walk to the bathroom, contemplating the news of my new reality.

--------

I've been getting a few small ideas for some mini demon-vamp, self-insert comics, but I had a feeling I should wrap up the previous comic I made first; I decided to write it out instead of drawing it because it does feel more like banter than anything really significant happening (and it would take awhile lol)

I'm not that good at writing, but hopefully it's ok ^^

I tried my best to stick to the main story's events while still keeping it different enough to be its own thing

As always, the original demon-vamp au is by @koko-doodle , so go check it out!

#writing #demon vamp au #self insert #gabriel

[keefwho]

January 17 - 2023

10:18 AM

I’m going to talk about what my stomach did in as little detail as possible. Last night I woke up at 3am because I felt cramping due to what I’m assuming is constipation. It went away and I got back to sleep. This morning I expected for whatever was causing me trouble to come out and I was right. The thing is, the consistency can only be described as “normal” so I don’t know why my guts are having such a hard time. SO much was stuck inside me. Maybe a lack of fiber/water? 

Either way I was hoping to stream or something but now I’m physically recovering from all that. It’s shocking to my body to have such a change in mass, sometimes I even get chills afterwards. Although I don’t think that’s happened for awhile. Its a good thing I already ate breakfast. 

12:09 PM

I don’t think I give myself enough credit for building up the ability to sit down and draw almost no matter what. I know how much others tend to struggle to do that, and I used to be like that too. Now I can get done what needs to get done pretty reliably. Maybe because I’ve turned it into a factory-like process instead of a creative one, but that’s still taken a great amount of skill and practice over a long period of time. I always try really hard not to toot my own horn but I do believe this is something I have a leg up in. 

5:36 PM

I did my yoga like usual, this time in a BOTW spring of power world and afterwards, I sat and meditated for a little bit. I softened my gaze into the water and tried to focus my thoughts on some things. Mostly about myself and my progress. In a strange way, I felt very connected to myself which I haven’t felt in maybe a few weeks. I tried thinking about who I am and what makes me happy. I thought maybe I like serving others. Maybe I don’t have very much desire for goals that serve only me. Things like having high status or wealth don’t truly interest me if they are only meant to be enjoyed by myself. I’m my happiest when I’m doing something I like that also functions for someone else. Like art. I also enjoy being a cog in a grander machine. Like a dependable person in a group, like when I was the go-to artist for TDS and was known and accepted by them. While meditating, I also felt an extreme level of empathy. My friend had a loss today and it hurts me so much that they had to go through it amidst other challenges. I also feel for other friends who openly express frequent unhappiness. Maybe I felt a little empathy towards myself too. We all feel pain and have to put up with daily challenges. It can be sad sometimes, but I know not everything is so depressing. I think this small period of lamenting is needed sometimes. Soon enough I’ll go back to confidently challenging myself and enjoying life. 

[weaselbrownie]

i was wondering if u could do one where draco fingers the reader under a blanket but like with people around

dw if u dont wanna write this ;)

underneath | d.m

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary : draco fingering you while there are people around

warning : NSFW! smut, swearing, praising, voyeurism (?), female receiving

word count : 2.6K

a/n : this was messy :(

MASTERLIST

It was the last night of winter break, tucked away in the screening room of the Malfoy Manor sat you, Draco, Pansy, Theo, and Blaise. It has always been a tradition to spend winter breaks at the Malfoy Manor. With Mr. Malfoy away, Mrs. Malfoy has always found it quiet to spend Christmas with her only son, and so she insisted that he brings his friends to stay over during the break.

"So no horror?" Pansy asked as she went through the DVD display,

"We're not watching a horror movie just for you to crawl into our beds at night," Blaise answered, walking around the room as he made red sparks from the tip of his wand, waiting for Pansy to pick a movie.

"Zip it Zabini it was one time" She huffed before turning back to search for other movies, blabbing about how Blaise is being an ass for not letting them watch a horror movie.

You, Draco, and Theo walked into the half-lit room, greeted by Blaise who jumped off the couch to snatch the snacks off of Theo and the blankets off Draco before walking back to the spot of the couch to wrap himself in a little blanket cocoon.

"Y/N! Look at this, can we wat–"

"No Pansy, we will not watch Poltergeist because once we're back at school you won't be able to crawl into Blase's bed and you'll end up crawling into mine" You crossed both your arms over your chest, your brows lifting like a mother scolding her child.

"Ugh, you're no fun" She rolled her eyes before going back to the stack of DVDs.

Theo left to help Pansy pick out a movie, leaving you and Draco by the big doorway. You felt his hand slithering up your back, taking hold of your waist to spin you around– facing him. You looked up to see his bright orbs staring down at you, the corner of his lips lifting into a small smile "So... back at school tomorrow huh?" He said pulling you closer until your chest met his,

"I guess..." You smiled at him, your hand coming up to glide over his covered bicep and to the back of his neck, locking them there to hold onto him. "...just a few more months and we're done with this" Your voice quietened, just above a whisper as your face neared his.

"I know pretty girl" Draco closed the space in between, letting his lips devour yours as he held on to you, gripping your hips to bring you closer to him. It was nothing new, your lips moving with his as if it was a rehearsed choreography, chasing one another in the dark room.

"Aight enough, we're watching a movie, not porn" A deep voice called out from behind. You let go of Draco and turned your head to see Theo crossing his arms in front of his chest, huffing as he smirked, tending his weight on one leg.

"Well if that is your idea of porn, that's pretty sad mate" A higher-pitched voice chimed into the conversation. Theo's smirk completely dropped as he swung to look at Pansy standing behind him, stifling her laugh as did the rest of the group.

You poked your tongue out to him, laughing as you made your way to sit on the couch with Blaise who was already munching on the snacks. "Alright, now can we watch the movie?" Blaise asked, opening another pack of chips to pass around the room.

Everyone nodded in response, moving around the room to find a comfortable space to sit. Theo and Pansy took the carpet as they always do, building pillow forts for themselves so they can slouch as they watch the movie. You got up from the couch to grab some blanket off the floor before walking back to your spot just to see Draco sitting there comfortably.

Leaning back onto the couch and stretching his arms out to the sides as he spreads his long legs. You didn't mean to stammer but your eyes widened at his sight, Draco fucking Malfoy looking so good without having to do quite literally anything.

He knew you were looking, licking his lips before giving you a sly smirk. "C'mon" he mouthed, patting the spot on between his legs for you to occupy. This happens regularly, you sitting on his lap or the spot in between, so there shouldn't be any reason why you should be nervous... right?

You slowly moved towards him, smiling under your bright red cheeks before sitting in front of him. Draco's arms wrapped around you almost instantaneously, the strong scent of peppermint and citrus dancing its way to the back of your head. The light in the room went out as the big screen lit up, playing the opening of the movie Pansy picked.

You shuffled in his arms as you adjusted yourself and the blanket on top of you, moving left and right trying to get rid of a specific discomfort right on your lower back. "Draco..." You whispered as you turned around in your spot– facing him. "...why are your pockets always full?" You crossed your arms in front of you, glancing to the side to make sure Blaise is paying attention to the movie.

"What?" Draco's brows furrowed as confusion took over him,

"Your pockets" You gestured down to the pockets of his grey sweats, your brows lifting, waiting for an answer. Draco looked at you as if you grew horns, biting his pink lips as he tries to understand what you are insinuating.

All of a sudden the corner of his lips lifted, forming a devilish smirk as his cold lengthy fingers traced your hips. "My pockets are empty, darling" He muttered, bending down to meet you face to face.

It was your turn to look confused, you weren't imagining it, you definitely felt something on your lower back earlier, "If it's empty, then what wa-" You cut yourself off mid-sentence, gasping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear, the realization washing over you.

Draco didn't move, his eyes gazing at your lips as your face began to heat up. You felt the warmth of his hands leaving your hips before feeling them again on the side of your face, cupping it slightly to pull you in for a brief kiss. You met his lips once again for a swift kiss before he pulled away, turning you to face the screen.

"Watch the movie, who knows... maybe something will happen that'll surprise you" His lips lingered on the shell of your ear as his arms returned to wrap over you. You still felt it, his hard-on poking you from behind but you brushed it off as he gave you a reassuring kiss on the side of your head and his fingers laced with yours under the blanket.

It was halfway through the movie when you felt his hand leaving yours, you didn't give it a second thought but it seems like his hand is sliding lower and lower until it came in contact directly in front of your heat– teasing you, knowing how much you crave for this right now.

It's wrong to do anything, your friends are in the room and not to mention next to you, but again you were covered with the blanket and it seems like they're focused on the movie. You seem to be in a battle with your thought, wanting to push Draco's hand away but you didn't have the stomachs to do so.

He picked up on this, bobbing his head to the side to see you staring off into the screen but not grasping anything that's thrown at you. "Can you be a good girl and keep quiet?" His breath hot, lingering on your ear as it sent goosebumps down your spine.

You slowly nodded, keeping your vision straight before you felt his warm hand slither past the band of your pants, resting them on your covered cunt. You kept quiet, not moving from your previous position as he continued his actions.

You felt him again, his middle and ring finger pressing into your clit as he drew slow circles through the material. "Seems like you're ready hm?" He murmured into your hair, feeling the wetness of your cunt through your underwear.

Your wet lips rolled in between your teeth, biting down on them to make sure nothing slips past, but he wasn't making it easy. By now he was rubbing rougher circles on you, pressing into your engorged clit as you tried to keep still.

His fingers continued their actions, moving to the base of your underwear to pull them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to him. "Stay still..." He whispered, his fingers leaving the piece of fabric to trace the outer lips of your cunt. "...I mean it" His fingers smeared the wetness around, making a mess inside your pants– more than it already was.

You slowly turned your head to the side, from another point of view Draco looks as if he was just cuddling you, wrapping you in his warm embrace as he enjoys a good movie. Whereas in reality, his fingers worked you, rubbing you in ways he knows you love.

"Watch the movie darling" He murmured, not breaking the eye contact he had with the big white screen in front of you. You turned your head back, leaning back onto him as you gripped his knee for support.

Draco used his middle finger to draw circles directly on your clit, the wetness of your arousal helping his finger glide easily. The warm and sharp feeling of pleasure started to build at the pit of your stomach, Draco drawing them out gently.

He continued his actions, rubbing until the grip you had on his knee tightens, signaling you were close. It was harder to keep your mouth shut, your chest slightly heaving up and down as you closed your eyes, getting ready for the pleasure to wash over you. It was right around the corner, your orgasm building stronger and stronger as Draco's fingers brushed fast circles on your clit, and before you know it,

"Y/N are you okay?" A voice pulled you out of the headspace you were in. Your eyes shot open and your head snapped to the source of the voice. Blaise sat next to you, his arms over his chest as he tilted his head to the side. His brows furrowed, trying to figure out whether you were alright or not.

Draco's fingers came to a halt as soon as he heard Blaise's voice, dropping the feeling of an orgasm that was about to hit. His head too turned to the source of the voice next to him. "You okay darling?" Draco asked dumbfoundedly, smirking as if he didn't just rub you in the same room as your friends.

Your mouth fell open, wanting to respond to a hundred different things at once yet none actually came out. "U-Um... yeah I–" You stuttered, your eyes wide open when you felt Draco's fingers leaving your clit to move down to your clenching hole. "...Fuck" You muttered to yourself when you felt him slipping his middle finger into you.

"You don't look so well" Blaise continued, reaching his hand out to place the back of his palm to your forehead. "You're a little warm Y/N, you sure you're ok?" His palm left your forehead to place itself on your cheeks.

You brushed it off, dodging his palm as you gave his hand a small smack. "I'm fine Zabini, don't worry about... i-it" Draco slipped another finger into you, driving it deep into your sopping cunt as you tried to hide the emotions on your face.

"Well, if you say so" Blaise shrugged, though he knows something is going on he quickly brushed it off, leaning back onto his end of the couch to shift his attention back to the movie.

You turned your head back as Blaise did, trying not to squirm as Draco drives his fingers into you, building your orgasm once again. You leaned back onto him as the both of you tried to move as little as possible.

"Good job angel" Draco whispered into your ear, his lips lacing with your cheeks as he gave your flushed face a small peck. His fingers started to drive into you faster, curling the ends of his digit to hit that spongey spot deep inside you at every thrust.

Your walls tightened around him, clenching unevenly as the tingling feeling returned to the pit of your stomach. "Dray..." You whispered to him, slurring out his name into a whine as it left your lips. The grip you have on his knee tightening, telling him you are close.

Draco's fingers slowed for a second, readjusting themselves as he rested the rough pad of his thumb on your clit, drawing circles as his other digits thrust inside you. Your breath started to become heavy again, his fingers working out a rhythm inside you.

"You wanna cum?" He asked, his lips lingering on the shell of your ear once again. You nodded slowly, not having the stomach to answer him– afraid to let out a moan for the entire room to hear.

You could barely hold it back, the euphoric feeling just behind his fingertips as he continued torturing you– making you wait for his instructions to cum. Your back arched slightly, lifting off his chest as you wriggled under his tender touch.

Tears started to gather at your waterline, immersing your sight as you tried holding back your upcoming high. Draco continued his actions, ramming his slender digits into you– making you feel all your emotions at once. "You wanna show me how me how you cum on my fingers angel?... go on" His soothing voice rung to the back of your head, permitting you to finally let go.

Your eyes fluttered close with his command, letting go of your high as the shiny gold stars danced on your vision, taking up the dark space. You wanted to moan out his name, show him how good he's been making you feel, but all you could do was bite your lips in silence, making sure to not let a single sound slip past your lips.

"There we go" His fingers slowed down, pulling you back to reality as you tried to catch your breath, your chest heaving up and down as he continued to run circles on your clit. "Good job angel" He continued, his whispers shooting butterflies through your body.

You leaned back onto Draco, letting him wrap his free arm around you as he stopped the movement on your sopping cunt, giving your clit a tap before placing your underwear back into place. You watched as his hand comes up from the blanket, moving slowly until he reached his mouth, letting his arousal-covered fingers slip past his lips– sucking them dry.

You watched him, wide eyes as he removed the blanket that covers the both of you, "Y/N isn't feeling too well, I'm gonna bring her up to bed" Draco announced to the group as he moved you in your spot, throwing your legs over his to pick you up bridal style.

"See, I knew it!" Blaise called out as Draco fumbles on the couch, readjusting the blanket to cover you again.

"Are you alright?" Pansy asked as she got up from her pillow fort in front of you, Theo following her movement as his face washed over in a confused manner. You hummed in response, your breath still slightly heavy as Draco got up from the couch, lifting you with his as if you weight nothing. The edge of Draco's lips lift up at Pansy's question, flashing his sly smirk to the confused and worried group,

"She'll be fine... I'll take care of her"

TAGLIST : @microwavedhampster @whenuwereyoung @o-rion-sta-r @willowmores @youreso-golden @mzmalice3 @desiredmalfoy @hyuckiesgf @yiamalfoy @acciodignity

#draco malfoy imagine #draco x reader #draco malfoy angst #draco angst #draco fic #draco malfoy smut #draco imagine #draco one shot #draco smut #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco fluff #draco x you #draco fanfiction #malfoy #slytherin #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfic #harry potter #harry potter smut

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin Scar Reveal Part 2(final part)

Merlin tries to pretend nothing happened, Arthur says “that’s stupid.”

Part 1

Merlin’s nightmares last for the rest of the afternoon and extend well into the night. 

The heat certainly doesn’t help, and it takes all of Gaius’ effort to keep his temperature low enough to not boil him from the inside out, but he manages with help from the knights. Mordred and Lancelot refuse to leave the servant’s side of course, but the others loiter in the corridor the entire time, and take turns sprinting to the cold store and kitchens for ice water and cloths.

It was difficult to stand there waiting, being given scraps of information on Merlin’s condition, especially when most of the scraps consist of something along the lines of “Hopefully he’ll snap out of it by the morning.”, which was certainly not helped when the occasional whimper floated out to them from the young servant’s room.

After a few hours, Leon was the one to draw the short straw to go and talk to Arthur. Whilst all of them were mildly miffed that Arthur had pushed Merlin so far, they knew that ultimately, it was all of their faults. All of them had pushed him, and none of them had protected him from being injured in the first place. None of them knew how much he had suffered, was still suffering. Considering Arthur’s... extra feelings for his servant, it was no wonder he’d reacted even worse than the others.

The First Knight agrees to go, knowing he had the best chance of talking some sense into The King, though he refuses to leave until he sees each of the others settle in their beds; it had been a long day, and would likely be an even longer day tomorrow. They all need as much sleep as they can get.

Arthur doesn’t answer when Leon knocks on his door, but the knight lets himself in after a few moment regardless, doing so quietly so as not to startle the man if he was asleep or, more likely, deep in thought.

The King was sat at his desk, chin resting on his hands, and Leon has to stamp down the surge of protective adrenaline in his lungs when he sees the dry tear tracks on the younger man’s face. He doesn’t notice Leon’s presence, not even when he very deliberately clears his throat, so the knight walks over to him slowly, rapping his knuckles harshly on the desk. That finally catches Arthur’s attention, and he looks up with a start, hands reaching for the sword that Leon knows he has hidden under the desk.

The King lets out a deep breath and relaxes back in his seat when he sees that it’s just Leon, hastily wiping his eyes before clearing his throat and looking up with a fake confidence:

“Sir Leon, what can I do for you?”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, but when Arthur holds strong and doesn’t react he lets out a deep sigh and collapses into the seat on the other side of the desk:

“Come on, Arthur. We need to talk about this.”

Arthur gulps, trying to keep his unaffected façade up, but failing and dropping it after only a few moments; something about the soft, overly concerned look Leon was giving him made him want to wrap himself in blankets and sob himself to sleep. He frowns and just about manages to keep the tears in:

“Why wouldn’t he tell me? If not about the physical scars, then about all the times he’s been hurt. Does he not think I would’ve given him time to recover? Or, God forbid, helped him?”

Leon purses his lips slightly in thought, still having to make a concerted effort not to gather The King up in a tight hug as he considers his questions:

“I don’t think it’s about you, Arthur. Merlin is... a private person by nature, and he doesn’t like worrying people. You heard Mordred, he and Lance found out by accident, and even then Merlin tried to keep them away from it as long as possible.”

Arthur stands, the guilt and sadness in his gut now frothing with anger as well. He paces around to the centre of the room and Leon stands to watch him carefully:

“He can say it’s not about me as much as he wants, but I’m The King, Leon,-”

He whirls on the knight, and Leon clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to raise a mocking eyebrow. He knew to expect anger at some point, but that doesn’t mean Arthur was entitled to it:

“-I have a right to know what’s going on in my Kingdom. I should’ve been informed of Nimueh and Morgause’s deaths, I should’ve been informed that Cenred was torturing people for information. How many other countless adventures has Merlin had that have put himself, Me, the Kingdom in danger, simply because he didn’t want people to know much about him?? None of that was his call to make.”

Leon does raise an eyebrow at that, but Arthur was too busy furiously pacing to feel scolded quite yet. The older man crosses his arms and huffs slightly, waiting for The King to calm before responding:

“Be that as it may, that’s not why you’re angry. You can lie to yourself, Arthur, but you can’t lie to me, and you certainly shouldn’t lie to Merlin. If you go to him pretending that you’re angry because he put the Kingdom at risk, and not because you’re heartbroken at him having suffered so much, then he’ll never forgive you. And when you realise that, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Arthur looks to Leon sharply, but the anger drains from his face within seconds and his whole body sags slightly, the exhaustion of the day having caught up to him. A glance to the now dark window tells him that it’s well into the evening, but he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at the unfinished paperwork on his desk or the hunger in his stomach from not having eaten since before noon, not when he knows Merlin is being tortured by nightmares and injuries that have long since healed. Injuries that he should never have had in the first place. Leon waits patiently for Arthur to respond:

“I don’t want him to be in pain. I just want to help him.”

His cracking admission has Leon give up on holding himself back, and he strides towards The King to pull him into a tight embrace. Arthur tenses at first, but quickly falls into the older man’s affection, accepting a hug for the first time since he was a child. Leon responds softly, aware that he only had a short time before Arthur pulled away and put his walls back up:

“Merlin’s already in pain, Arthur, but that doesn’t mean we can’t now help him.-”

He feels Arthur nod into his shoulder and squeezes the man tighter for a moment before pulling back, keeping a tight grip on The King’s shoulders:

“Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

Arthur’s tired, longing gaze moves to the paperwork spread haphazardly over his desk, and Leon shakes his head, tugging Arthur’s shoulders so he looks back at him:

“No, work isn’t an option, your mind is not in any sort of state to be productive right now. You’re exhausted, Arthur, a few hours of sleep will do you some good; I hate to say it but The Kingdom won’t stop needing attention whilst we... sort through this, and you’ll need the energy tomorrow.”

Arthur shakes his head, stepping back and rubbing his eyes tiredly as he takes a deep breath and straightens his back. Leon steps back as well, re-introducing the respectful distance that should be between a King and his Knight, waiting for Arthur’s no doubt stoic response:

“The councilmen will survive without me for a day or two, if not then that really should be something I’m made aware of so I can get to replacing them. Merlin and I need to...-”

He cuts himself off and clears his throat:

“-has there been any news? Any change?”

Leon shakes his head, but catches Arthur’s wrist when he begins walking towards the door:

“Arthur. I just about managed to convince everyone else to get some sleep and you need it more than them.-”

Arthur looks back indignantly, failing to portray his Kingly Anger in his exhaustion and looking more like a scolded child:

“-You know I’m right. Get some sleep, Gaius will inform you if anything changes.”

For a moment, it looks like Arthur wants to argue, but he quickly lets out a deep, bone weary sigh, nodding before moving sluggishly towards his bed. Leon nods approvingly, muttering a soft “Goodnight, My Lord” and smiling slightly at Arthur’s hummed response before quietly exiting the chambers.

~

Arthur can convince himself, for a few blissful seconds, that it was all a bad dream when he wakes up the next morning.

His curtains are thrown wide open; the sunlight streams in and forces The young King to groan and roll over, attempting to shield his eyes from the brightness. Merlin’s cheery voice echoes throughout the various chambers:

“Come on, Sire, up and at ‘em!”

Arthur just grumbles a slurred “Fuck off.” before his brain wakes up and he throws himself from the bed, thankfully wearing sleep clothes but only just managing to catch himself on the bedside table before he falls over:

“Merlin!! What the hell are you- are you ok?! Did Gaius say you could get up?!”

Merlin looks back at him with the same disapproving, mocking glare he usually uses in the morning; Arthur is taken aback at the darkness in his eyes. He can’t quite decide if it made it’s first appearance this morning, or if it had always been there and he just hadn’t noticed. He doesn’t know which idea he hates more:

“I’m fine, Arthur, no need to worry about me. And for your information, I’m a fully trained physician, I don’t need Gaius telling me what I can and can’t do.-”

He rolls his eyes and turns to The King’s desk with a huff, gesturing at the mess:

“-It’s flattering that you rely on me so much Arthur, but really, this is ridiculous.”

Arthur is finally broken out of his shocked stupor, shaking his head disbelievingly and taking a few short steps towards his manservant. He goes to yell but quickly backtracks, snapping his mouth shut and taking a deep breath before trying again, softly this time:

“Merlin... we have to talk about yesterday.”

Merlin’s reaction is immediate and harsh. The quill that he had picked up from Arthur’s desk snaps in his sudden tight grip and the tension in his shoulders is painful looking. He freezes for just a moment before forcing himself to relax, casually throwing the broken quill into a waste basket before continuing to organise the desk, refusing to look up at The King:

“No, we really don’t. I’m fine, My Lord.”

The lack of sarcasm or sass in Arthur’s title worries The King greatly, but the way Merlin regains more and more of the tension in his shoulders the closer Arthur walks to him is even more worrying:

“Merlin... look at me.-”

The servant gulps, biting his lip at he stares at the desk for a few more moments before forcing himself to look up. He recoils slightly at the tears in Arthur’s eyes, but doesn’t allow himself to look away. Arthur opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the door to his chambers opening with a bang as Mordred and Lancelot rush in. They’re both red-faced and panting, speaking at the same time:

“I swear to the Gods if he snuck out of bed to work, I’ll-”

“I apologise My Lord, I don’t suppose you’ve seen-”

They both freeze as they see Merlin stood behind Arthur’s desk, paperwork crumpled in his tight grip and face fallen into a annoyed frown. Arthur throws his hands up, frustrated as he paces and mumbles:

"Just... come in why don’t you. No, don’t worry about knocking just run on in like you own the damn place.”

Lancelot spares him a quick glance but locks the door behind him and crosses his arms like an angry mother as he looks to the irate servant:

“Merlin, we’ve talked about this, you’re meant to take the morning off after a bad night, Gaius says-”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and turns away, interrupting Lancelot’s scolding as he continues to tidy around the room, his annoyance evident in his harsh tone and hurried movements:

“I’m a physician too, and I say I’m fine. I would like to just... get on with things, please.”

Arthur has to stop himself from recoiling at the way Lance and Mordred’s faces fall, the pain and grief sadder than anything he’s ever seen in their expressions before. He takes a moment to think before giving the two of them a pointed look and quietly asking:

“Can you give us a minute?”

Lancelot looks doubtful, but willing. Mordred plants his feet and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious he has no intention of leaving Merlin’s side; as much as Arthur finds that admirable on a personal level, as King it’s unacceptable. He’s normally not a fan of pulling rank among friends, but maybe that’s because he normally doesn’t need to. Perhaps this whole mess was his fault, Mordred obviously felt so, but Arthur could hardly fix it with them glaring over his shoulder. He raises himself to his full height, a good few inches above Mordred, and uses the tone of voice he normally reserves for particularly difficult councilmen:

“You forget whose presence you are in, Sir Mordred, you’d do well to remember again. You are both dismissed.”

Mordred’s eyes go wide and he takes in a sharp breath, but after a quick glance to Merlin’s turned back he dutifully bows and walks from the room stiffly. Lancelot’s postures straightens as well, and he follows Mordred after a confident:

“We’ll be in Gaius’ chambers should you require anything, My Lord.”

Merlin was oblivious to the conversation, though Arthur reckons he was deliberately ignoring it as opposed to being actually unaware, especially with the way the servant’s shoulders relax when the door shuts behind the second knight.

Arthur sighs as Merlin continues to putter around the room, refusing to look him in the eye; he leans against the edge of the desk and crosses his arms:

“Merlin,-”

His voice is soft, but the servant still doesn’t look at him, giving a non-committal hum as he clears out the hearth with shaking hands:

“-come here, please.”

Merlin freezes for just a moment, and if the problem wasn’t so glaringly the context of the situation, Arthur may have been able to fool himself into believing that Merlin was just shocked he said please. The younger man stands slowly, turning to walk towards Arthur with his gaze stuck to the floor. He stops with about five feet of space between them and Arthur sighs again, closing the gap until only a few inches separates them. The King ignores the tears gathering in both of their eyes as he lifts a hesitating hand, dropping it softly on Merlin’s shoulder only when the servant doesn’t flinch away:

“Merlin, I... you mean a great deal to me, and I know I don’t say that often enough, or at all, really. You... look after me, keep me alive and unhurt, evidently more than I had originally thought. You make me a good King, and a better man.-”

Merlin looks up at him sharply and Arthur can tell that he’s about to argue, so he squeezes his shoulder and quickly hurries on:

“-You’ve been hurt, you’ve suffered in your service to me, and that’s unacceptable but it’s also my fault; I should’ve made it clear that I would protect you from anything. These scars prove your strength, but I understand not wanting to acknowledge them, so I promise I will never ask again. You tell me when you’re ready, and if that’s never, then that’s completely fine.-”

Merlin seems surprised by the promise, and the tears slowly dripping from his wide eyes just make Arthur regret yesterday even more. After a second or two of shock, Merlin visibly relaxes, relieved with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to expect the conversation that he really doesn’t want to have. Arthur gives him a weak smile before continuing:

“-I’m sorry, but I’m also grateful. Thank you, Merlin. But...-”

Merlin re-tenses at the “but” and Arthur squeezes his shoulder again, giving him what he hopes is a reassuring smile:

“-please don’t keep doing this alone. I... I don’t expect you to ask me for help, though I would drop anything in a heartbeat to keep you safe. Even... even if it’s Gwaine, just... I don’t want you disappearing off to save the Kingdom only to never come back again because no one knows where you are.”

Merlin smiles weakly at the disdain in Arthur’s voice when he mentions Gwaine, but quickly frowns again and looks at the floor. He gaze stays lowered when he asks his one word question, his voice quiet and ragged:

“Anything?”

Arthur frowns for a second, confused about what Merlin was asking, but quickly realises, lifting the other man’s chin with his hand, his voice a whisper:

“Merlin, I would give up the Kingdom to rid you of the burden you’ve place upon yourself. I just want you safe and happy and by my side.”

Merlin once again looks like he wants to argue, but a quiet sob falls from his mouth instead and Arthur, damning the consequences and his stupid reputation, pulls the younger man into a tight hug, cradling his head into his shoulder and running a soft hand up and down his back. A few tears of his own slip free but he finds he doesn’t care that much as Merlin shakes in his arms; he presses a barely-there kiss to Merlin’s temple and begins swaying slightly on the spot, wanting more than anything to take away his servant’s pain.

Merlin’s cries slow to a stop after what feels like hours, but Arthur doesn’t let go quite yet, eyeing the unmade bed over Merlin’s shoulder with eagerness, knowing that neither he nor Merlin had slept well last night. He feels Merlin stifle yawn against his shoulder and that just strengthens his resolve; he squeezes the younger man to get his attention and then speaks quietly:

“Reckon the council can survive without me later?”

Merlin clears his throat and responds, but still doesn’t let go:

“Doubtful, but Leon and Morgana could probably whip them into shape. Why?”

Arthur nods and pulls back, frowning at the slight panic in Merlin’s eyes when he steps away but doesn’t mention it, letting his hand slide down from the servant’s shoulder to grip his hand. Merlin visibly relaxes, but still looks confused as Arthur tugs him towards the bed gently; he allows himself to be pushed to sit on the edge and looks up at Arthur questioningly. The blond stops himself from grinning widely at the trust in his expression, instead turning away to shut the curtains and lock the door as he says:

“Shoes and belt off, I fancy a nap, how about you?”

He was expecting an argument, so he's surprised when he turns back to the bed to see Merlin softly smiling as he sets his shoes and belt on the bedside table neatly. They both climb under the covers wordlessly, and Merlin doesn’t hesitate to curl into Arthur’s side when he holds his arms out to him. 

The King holds his servant close, tucking his head against his chest and burying his chin in his soft hair, his arms wound around Merlin tightly. Merlin closes his eyes without issue, finding himself unafraid of the darkness or the nightmares or the firm touch against his back for the first time since his collection of scars began.

The warrior sleeps, plagued by nothing but pleasant dreams and the warmth of a protection he knows he can trust.

~

THE END!!

That took me FOREVER to write, writer’s block really does suck, but I’m glad I finally got it finished. I feel like it’s a little underwhelming, but I hope y‘all like it :)

@1stbonesfan asked to be tagged! <3

#merthur #merthur fluff #bbc merlin #merlin #good mordred #sir leon #leon #protective lancelot #protective leon #protective mordred #mordred #sir mordred #lancelot #sir lancelot #gwaine #sir gwaine #percival #sir percival #tw ptsd #tw nightmares #ptsd #nightmares #haooy ending #angst with a happy ending #elyan #sir elyan #gaius #morgana #good morgana #king arthur

[bmodiwrites]

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This was a work of love and took me quite a bit of time over the last few weeks. I hope that comes across as you read. Special thanks to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the amazing photos of Eddie & Steve. They are absolutely perfect for this story. I'm also using this as my movie au fill for the @batboysxprompts Valentine's prompts. Word Count: ~29k Warnings: There are brief mentions of child abuse, drug use/distribution and minor character death. Keep that in mind as you read! Summary:

Their fated romance started when Eddie and Steve were in their teens. They learned to love each other hard and fast, with the sort of reckless abandon only the young can prescribe to. It seems like it's absolutely perfect, but Eddie's past becomes a burden that breaks them apart.

19 years later, Wayne Munson dies, bringing Eddie and Steve back together. Is it fate that's drawing them towards the love that never left? After his accident, Eddie's more than willing to chalk his good fortune up to just about anything. Read to find out what happens when a chance occurrence gives Eddie the second chance he's always been looking for. Will their love win out or is the past too much for them to overcome?

Or - an attempt at a story about love that's lost and then found again.

It’d been quite a while since Steve was stood up.

While his dating history wasn’t all that extensive (especially with other boys), Steve had enough experience under his belt to read a person pretty well. He thought Eddie Munson’s quiet, obliviousness made him a sure thing. Steve figured the mere opportunity would bring that smart little man right out of his shell.

Instead, Steve was all by himself an hour and a half after the time Eddie agreed to meet him.

It usually wouldn’t have been that big of a deal to Steve, either. There were plenty of fish in the sea and a lot of them appreciated Steve’s time and effort. He even tried to remind himself of that when sadness trickled into his gut instead of the rightful anger that should’ve been there. A hit against his pride would’ve been easier to swallow than the disappointment that lingered.

Steve, despite not really knowing much about him, really liked Eddie. For the first time, maybe ever, Steve actually wanted to be seated across the table from another person just as eager to get to know him. The feeling was actually mutual.

At least, Steve had thought so.

Unable to sit there by himself any longer, Steve got up from his lonely table in the corner. As he did, the sight of Eddie’s cousin Gareth sitting with his knocked up girlfriend gave Steve one last burst of hope. Changing his trajectory, Steve bucked up some courage and walked with determination in Gareth’s direction.

“Where is he?” Steve asked without any preamble.

Gareth turned around with a knowing look in his eyes, his mouth already forming around the address to Wayne Munson’s place.

Steve was out of patience, so he didn’t linger around to show gratitude or make pleasantries. If all went according to plan, Steve would have lots of time to make amends with Eddie’s cousin. Something deep in Steve’s gut said this wouldn’t be the last time he and Gareth had to scheme to do what was best for Eddie.

Driving to the far side of town soothed some of Steve’s former irritation. He appreciated the ability to let everything go and listen to the music playing over the radio. By the time he pulled up to the auto shop, most of Steve’s resentment had trickled out into the night air.

Of course, it immediately came rushing back when Steve walked into the garage to see Eddie hiding behind the popped hood of a car. His plain white t-shirt was covered in oil and grease, rolled up over his biceps so that Steve had no other choice but to look (and admittedly appreciate the view). The whole scene made Steve see red.

As did Eddie’s opening words.

“I decided not to come.”

Blowing out an impatient breath, Steve stomped a little further into the garage. “Hm, yeah – I got that.”

Eddie had the decency to catch Steve’s eye, but only for a moment. It was hard to lie to someone while looking right at them. “I didn’t know how to get ahold of you.”

Snorting, Steve stopped his forward trek, opting to put both hands on his hips, instead. “Oh, well I was at Hop’s. You could’ve gotten ahold of me there.” His words were petty but Steve couldn’t help it. The hurt welling up inside of him was too much.

When Eddie ignored him, Steve rolled his eyes. Taking a second to breath and actually get a grip on his surroundings, Steve noticed a couple of things at once. A cot, still trussed up from someone sleeping on it, was pushed against the corner wall. What looked like Eddie’s things were scattered around the small camp bed.

“Are you living out here?” Steve thoughtlessly asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Is this some kind of game you’re playing? Huh? With your friends? A little science experiment you’ve got going on? What is it?” Eddie’s pitch was serious, the older boy obviously getting mad.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of Eddie’s suggestion. The only real friend Steve had was Robin and she supported him wholeheartedly. Though, Eddie didn’t know that. “What you’re suggesting is insane. I hope you know,” Steve said, choosing to deflect instead of answering with any truth.

“It’s insane, is it?” Eddie asked, clapping back with a sarcastic tone to his voice. “Maybe you just like strays.”

As the combative words settled over him, Steve’s earlier resolve to be rational and calm about this whole situation snapped. “Or, maybe I just like good guys who haven’t had it all handed to them.” Steve was wrung out and drained after admitting that. Though, Eddie obviously didn’t buy it.

His chuckle stung against Steve’s skin. As did the mumbled “right” that so easily fell from Eddie’s lips. Steve felt tears prickle at the corner of his eyes – maybe this really was a lost cause.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Without actually waiting for an answer, Steve turned around to sadly march right back where he came from. The stubbornness within him didn’t let Steve get but a few steps out of the garage before more things to throw in Eddie’s direction popped up in his brain.

Eddie embarrassed him and Steve wasn’t going to let him win that easily.

“You know, I just wanted a date. I wanted to go somewhere and maybe have some food or some ice cream.” Steve paused for a second, taking what he could see of Eddie in. His beautiful brown doe eyes were peaking up from behind the hood, half of his face still dark and covered. “Come on, you ask me questions and I ask you questions. And if we just so happen to like the answers, Eddie, then maybe we go on another one. And if we don’t, then we won’t.”

His outburst was cathartic, though of no use. Eddie didn’t budge or fight back or say anything at all.

“Forget it. I’m exhausted. Sorry for wasting your time, Munson.” Steve ran both hands through his perfectly styled hair to cover up the sob that wanted to escape. He tugged at the strands, forcing pesky tears from the corner of his eyes. The physical pain helped to dull the one developing in his heart. “I’m done.”

Letting out a long breath, Steve turned to once again make the trip to his car. This time, he almost made it all the way in before the urge to go back and fight some more won. Steve was spinning himself up at the same time Eddie came running from the garage.

Their joint effort to keep going back and forth with each other would’ve been sort of cute if it didn’t come with the sight of a black and blue bruise taking up the left side of Eddie’s face. The older boy standing him up suddenly made a whole lot more sense now.

As if reading his mind, Eddie pointed up at his black eye. “This is why I didn’t want to go out in public.” There was shame in his voice, though Steve had no idea why. Eddie certainly didn’t give himself such a nasty bruise.

Read the rest on AO3

#steddie #BatBoysPrompts #BatBoysVDay #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #bobbie writes #the best of me #au #steddie au #steddie fics #we were left unfinished

[bloodycassian]

Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!! 

Prompt -  Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them!  You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?

You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person.  Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively.  Cassian grabbed Az's wrist.  He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly.  He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?"   The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning.  + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit.  Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground.  Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower.  You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade.  + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance.  The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it.  "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt.  "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down.  "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb.  "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory.  "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away.  Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics.  "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug.  + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay.  The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child.  The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..."  Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.  You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options.  You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade.  "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air.  "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him.  A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been.  The thought hit you like a well placed punch.  He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home.   His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over.  You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out.  You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader."  Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile.  "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow.  "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again.  He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days.  "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused.  "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped.  + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket.  "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first."  Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps.  "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings.  The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect.  You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips.  You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child."  "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics.  He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering.  He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot. 

#acotar #acotar fic #reader x azriel #azriel x reader #azriel

[curls-cat]

take a BIte

here it is: the promised oblivious bisexual!Jaskier/Sam the baker (collective OC (affectionate)) 1.7k, rated T. On AO3 under the same name. EDIT: Beta’ed by the lovely @julek

~

The man has been staring at Jaskier all evening. And why wouldn’t he? Jaskier is at his best, here and now, a brilliant blur of color and noise. He looks good, and he sounds good, and he’s famous, and Burn is a damn good song.

The man in question looks kind. He’s got a nice smile, soft cheeked and rosy. His hair is soft, too, all in curls. All of him looks soft.

Jaskier doesn’t take too much note of this. He makes sure to pay attention to everyone when he’s playing like this, to note all of them, to sing to them, at least for a few words apiece.

But after he’s done playing, the man comes up to him, hands him an ale.

Jaskier is never one to turn down free ale. Especially not these days.

But he’s not thinking about that! He’s popular here (he’s popular everywhere!), he’s just been given a drink, and he might have a friend to share it with.

“You perform beautifully,” the man says. “I’ve come to see you every time I can.”

Jaskier smiles at him. “You should’ve come up sooner! I’m here nearly every night.”

“Why this bar?” the man asks.

Jaskier shrugs. He can’t exactly say he’s running an illicit elf-smuggling operation. “Nice to have something familiar, I suppose. To be known.” That was a bit much. This might be one ale too many.

The man gives him a searching look, and sits down next to Jaskier at the bar. “I’m Sam,” he says.

“Absolutely my pleasure, Sam.” Jaskier gives him a little flourishing bow, the best he can while still sitting. “I’m Jaskier.”

“I know.”

Of course he does. Jaskier hates this sort of thing. Either he’s too presumptuous of his own fame, or he’s telling someone something they already know. He laughs it off as best he can. “Doesn’t do to assume,” he says. “Last time I assumed, one of my mother’s friends called me Julian like I was still twelve. In front of a room full of people!”

Sam smiles at him. He really does have a very nice smile. “Can I buy you another drink?”

~

Sam comes back. And comes back. It’s nice, having something that feels like a friend. Someone who listens to him play, who just enjoys it, enjoys his company. He doesn’t feel like he has to prove himself to Sam. In the university, it’s always about proving yourself.

Eventually, Jaskier finds himself explaining about Geralt. Sam doesn’t press, but one night, he does say, “You always look sad, when you play that one.”

Oh, it’s strange, being seen.

So Jaskier tells Sam most of it. Sam knew he used to be a traveling bard, knew, obviously, that something made him stop doing that. Jaskier explains about the fight, about being left. 

Sam puts a hand atop Jaskier’s, and in a soft voice, says, “That must’ve been very hard.”

Jaskier almost starts crying. He doesn’t, because it’s been nearly two years since that fight and he’s a grown man who has more to his life than one friendship with someone who barely acknowledged that Jaskier existed most days. But Sam sounds so sympathetic, and he’s so kind, and Jaskier has run out of people in his life who want to listen to him talk about Geralt.

“It was,” he agrees.

Sam squeezes his hand. It’s nice.

~

Sam grows to be one of Jaskier’s closest friends. He doesn’t tell him about the Sandpiper business, obviously, but they share a lot more than that. Jaskier visits Sam’s bakery, tries to help and proceeds to get very in the way. Sam comes to the university and brings pastries for them to eat once Jaskier’s finished lecturing. They spend, still, a lot of time at the bar. Not just because Jaskier is there every night, but because it’s beginning to feel like their space. 

They’re in the bar tonight, just talking, having a lovely time. It’s all very nice. They’re smiling at each other. Jaskier’s just said something remarkably witty, if he does say so himself. And then, for reasons Jaskier can’t fathom, Sam up and kisses him.

Jaskier draws back, eyes wide, because what? “I— I think I’ve given you the wrong idea.”

Sam’s face goes blank, and it’s a terrible blankness. “I thought—I’m sorry. I thought you—I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry!” Jaskier counters. “I—you’re very kind, and obviously quite an attractive man, and if circumstances were otherwise—”

“You’re not over that Geralt fellow, then,” Sam says. He sounds defeated.

This gives Jaskier pause. Because obviously he’s not over his best friend of two decades up and abandoning him, but what has that got to do with— “What? No, that’s not. I mean. I’m not interested in. You know. Men?”

Sam blinks at Jaskier. He looks at the way their legs are tangled together under the table, the long line of their sides pressed against each other. Their fingers still twined together. All right, Jaskier can admit that, to an outside observer, this might look like a romantic tryst.

Jaskier untangles their legs and fingers, scooches a little bit away from Sam. The spaces where they were touching feel cold on his skin.

It’s very quiet. The tavern is nearly silent around them.

“Wait,” Sam says, breaking the calm like someone smashing ice to reveal a river roiling beneath it. “You and Geralt weren’t lovers?”

Jaskier bursts out laughing. It’s probably quite rude, and almost definitely makes Sam feel even worse, but he can’t help himself.

“Melitele’s tits, no,” he says, once he can breathe again. “Geralt would sooner have gone deaf than sleep with me.”

“Oh,” Sam says, in a very blank voice.

“I mean, I know you haven’t seen him,” Jaskier says, because this is what he does when he’s nervous, he vomits out words until he’s thoroughly disgusted everyone around him, and he’s already probably ruined things with Sam, so he might as well keep going, right? “But the man is built like a god. I have seen him literally bring down a tree with his bare hands. And that’s not even mentioning the damn leather trousers he wears everywhere. He could have anyone he wanted. He’d never look twice at me, even if I had wanted him to.”

“It sounds like you thought about it,” Sam says. He’s giving Jaskier a thoughtful look that Jaskier doesn’t quite like.

“I mean, who doesn’t?” Jaskier waves a hand, encompassing the whole of idly considering how your friends would be in bed. “Long weeks on the road with nobody else around, a man gets an itch. And there’s your friend, a nice warm body, and a beautiful body at that, one that could probably have very athletic sex. Of course seeing a bit of skin in the bath would get anyone thinking.”

Sam blinks at Jaskier and says nothing.

“Wouldn’t it?” Jaskier asks. His voice is smaller than he’d like it to be.

“I have never,” Sam says, and his voice is gentle like he’s telling Jaskier someone has a terminal illness, “in all my forty-four years on this earth, thought about a woman’s ass.”

Jaskier stops, thinks about that. “But… never?”

“Once, when I was twelve,” Sam concedes. “All my friends were noticing women, and I was wondering what all the fuss was about.”

“Oh,” Jaskier says. This… Huh.

All right. He knew, objectively, that many people weren’t at all interested in women in a sexual sense. And, obviously, he knew the inverse was true. But he’d thought…

“Wait.” Jaskier says. Then he stops again.

Did… was it not normal? To think idly about your friends of all genders in a sexual sense? To be appreciative of their bodies?

“I—” Jaskier starts.

He knows what it’s like to feel sexual attraction! He’s felt it about all sorts of women! He knows what that feels like! And it’s not what he feels when he looks at men! So what if he notices the cut of their shoulders, the shadow of their beards growing in, the tufts of hair sticking out of the necks of their shirts? So what if he’s wondered, occasionally, what it would be like to—

“Oh,” Jaskier says. He puts his head on the table. “Oh fuck.”

Sam pats him on the back.

“Was I in love with Geralt?” he asks.

“Certainly fucking sounds like it,” Sam offers.

“Huh.” This revelation feels small in comparison to the rest of everything.

“Did you not know you could like both?” Sam asks.

“Of course I knew!” Jaskier protests. He doesn’t pick his head up off the table, although it’s rather sticky. “I just… didn’t realize. That. Well. That what I was doing was liking both.”

Sam laughs a little, softly. “What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know!” Jaskier wails, throwing his hands in the air. They don’t make it very far up, what with the whole head-on-the-table business. “I didn’t think about it!”

He’s thinking about it now, though. Thinking about being more than willing, while attending university, to kiss Valdo on a dare. About noticing, casually, the way a man’s ass looks in his trousers. About the instinct to reach out and touch someone’s (Geralt’s) pectorals. About pausing in a walk to look at back muscles tapering down to a thinner waist.

Sam laughs again, still rubbing at Jaskier’s back.

Jaskier keeps his head on the table for a long time, reformatting his life so that things make more sense. Her Sweet Kiss, for example. That was… Wow. Jaskier may be an idiot about some things. Sam keeps rubbing his back the whole time.

“Right,” Jaskier says, once he’s come to terms with a few things. He pushes himself up, smiles at Sam. “Right! Now that that’s sorted.” He leans in, smirks at Sam. “Shall we try that again?”

“Are you sure?” Sam asks, brow furrowing in an adorable way, and wow, Jaskier would like to touch it. Has he always wanted to do that? 

Yeah. Yeah he has. Huh.

Sam continues, “You just figured out that you’re attracted to men at all. I don’t want to rush you.”

“You’re very sweet,” Jaskier says, giving Sam a fond smile. “But I would like to kiss you. I think I’ve wanted that for a long time. I just… didn’t realize.”

Sam hesitates for a moment longer, then says, “All right. If you’re certain you’re ready.”

“I am,” Jaskier says. He means it.

And he leans in, and meets Sam’s mouth with his own.

#the witcher netflix #the witcher tv #jaskier/sam the baker #kat writes #my writing