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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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Can. I please have Vecna smut?🙏🙏😩

The Clock Strikes Midnight

Vecna x Reader | R-Rated for sexual content and horror themes

Word count: 1.08K

You saw him in your dreams sometimes. He’d come to you in the dead of night and whisper in your ear. Sweet nothings. Promises. And your room would be cold when you woke up. The window would be open just a crack, leaving your curtains to flutter in the autumn breeze. It was strange.

And tonight was no different. You were surely still dreaming. You could feel his hands on your waist. You couldn’t move. You didn’t really want to. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew you were special to him. You weren’t like the others.

“You’re truly something, aren’t you, angel?” he murmured into your ear, sweetly, as he traced a finger over your collarbone.

You gasped when his fingers grazed over your nipples. His flat palms ran over your stomach, to the sides of your ribcage. Light and teasing touches. Until a hand cupped your heat and pressed down enough to send a small jolt of electricity through you.

“Such a weak and sensitive thing, to be so willing and offering herself to me in such a … crude manner.”

You arched your back on the bed as you felt phantom fingers brush over your clit. Teasing circles. And gentle pushes. It was too much. And you couldn’t do a thing about it. You tried to push your hips up, seeking more friction. A force pushed you down again, keeping you still.

“Tell me what you want. All you need to do is ask. Is that so hard to do?”

You shook your head and sighed shakily.

“What do you want, angel?”

“I…I want your fingers…inside of me,” you finally got out, humiliation burning bright on your cheeks.

“Good girl,” he crooned.

You almost cried in relief, feeling his fingers inside you, crooking just perfectly into that spot. You clung to your sheets, biting down on your bottom lip, trying to stay as quiet as you could while he touched you. His fingers were so so cold. And yet they made you feel as if you were on fire.

His pace was constant, and unforgiving in nature. And slowly, after what felt like hours, you were left on your bed, asleep, oblivious to the happenings when the clock had struck midnight.

"So, you’ve finally started to notice me, haven’t you darling?"

Your heart leapt into your chest as you started awake. There it was. His voice again. And the headaches…Your lips felt wet. With the brush of your fingertips, you realized you had a nosebleed. You never got nosebleeds…

"Aren’t feeling that bright today, I see. I can fix that…"

You whirled around, your eyes dancing over your dark room. There was no one here. And yet you could still hear him. This had been happening for weeks, and you still couldn’t figure it out.

“Who are you?” you whispered into the darkness; your voice shaky.

A laugh echoed in your head. For a moment he sounded more boyish than terrifying.

"I can show you. But you have to promise to not be scared, alright? Can you do that for me?"

You swallowed thickly and replied with a weak, “Alright.”

No one appeared for quite a while. You thought this man would be a ghost of sorts. But instead, the faint sound of tick tock ticking filled your ears.

The key clicked roughly in your bedroom door, locking you in. The ticking stopped.

"Behind you, sweetheart."

You jumped, his breath on your neck as he spoke. You scrambled to the edge of your bed, blankets tanged at your ankles. A man was now sat on the other end of your bed, hugging one of your pillows to his chest, a smile on his face. He looked…amused?

“Who are you?” you asked again. “Are you some sort of freak?”

“Freak?” he frowned, those blue eyes of his darkening at the insult. “No. I’m not a freak.”

“Are you a ghost then?”

He chuckled at that, putting your pillow back down. “For one,” he said, moving a bit closer to you, “I am not an apparition of any sort.”

At your disbelieving look, he inched towards you, a hand outstretched. “There. Touch my hand, if you are so doubtful.”

You hesitated, but eventually brushed your fingers over the back of his hand. You quickly drew back. He was cold. Freezing.

“See? I’m not that scary, am I?” He sighed and reached his hand out to your face, lightly grazing your bottom lip.

It came away scarlet. He lifted his hand up into the moonlight, taking a closer look before murmuring, “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this, you know. The headaches have stopped now, haven’t they?”

“They have,” you answered, eyes never leaving him.

You had to get out. Get as far away from him as you could. Call the cops. Anything. if you could just-

“You can’t get away from me, you know. No matter where you go, I will eventually find you again,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. “And I promise you, no none wants to be hunted down by a man like me, angel.”

“I know you think I’m harmless,” he carried on. “Especially looking like this…but I can assure you I am far from pretty.” His voice wasn’t the same now. It was low and reminded you of tyres moving over a gravel road.

His eyes hadn’t changed at all. They were still blue. But the rest of him…your breath caught in your throat. He was a monster. As he got up to stand in front of you at the foot of the bed, you fought the urge to gag at the sound of his movements. It was as if his bones broke with every movement he made. And his skin was mauled and scarred beyond recognition.

What…what had happened to this man? Who had done this to him?He took a hold of your chin, his hand scratching your skin, and lifted your face to meet his gaze.

“Now that you know what I look like, keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, darling. No one needs to know…not until it’s time.”

“Time for what?” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes.

He was going to kill you. You could feel it. With the way he was looking at you.

But then he was gone. And all he left behind was the scratch on your jaw, where his hand had been. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. You didn’t have much time left.

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#001 x reader #peter ballard x reader #stranger things #001 stranger things #peter ballard #peter ballard smut #peter ballard stranger things #stranger things 001 #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #st vecna #vecna's curse #vecna x reader #vecna stranger things #001 imagine #001 x oc #peter ballard fanfic #stranger things x reader #peter ballard imagine

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daydreaming-in-letters · 1 year

Text

Special

11/16/2022

Pairing: Andrew (Hozier) x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,500

Warnings: rpf, language, mentions of alcohol, slightly smutty daydreaming, mentions of online dating disasters, slander, pining, mentions of past heartbreak, fluff

Summary: Andrew has been secretly in love for a long time. Will he finally find it in himself to confess his feelings to his beloved?

A/N: It took me quite a while to finish this, but it was important to me that I did. I've been struggling with my writing for some time now and maybe it shows. Still, this one is special to me and one of the most personal stories I have ever written.

Picture by Joshua Newton via Unsplash (edited)

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

Andrew could feel the cold creeping up on him from behind his back. What had been supposed to be the last night of summer had turned out to be the first night of autumn instead. Probably sensing the crisp bite of nightfall approach, someone had lit a fire hours ago, back when the sun had still been powerful enough to deceive the rest of them for a little longer. The oak logs, now turned into embers of glowing red, still gave off enough heat to keep the whole group outside way past midnight. Not that he would have needed the fire to keep him warm though. Her sight was more than sufficient to drive away the chill in an instant and provide him with enough heat to turn his cheeks pink whenever his eyes lingered for too long and his thoughts began to wander.

He could have easily sat through the night without their bonfire if only she was there with him. He had to admit though that the fire suited her well, unveiling her full beauty to him once again in all its splendour, like the day he had finally realised he was in love with her.

Dark shadows and golden lights danced across her face, caressing her soft skin with the tenderness of a lover’s touch. With every flicker of the flames, the glossy sheen of her painted lips twinkled enticingly, as if he would have needed the sight to remind him of the countless times he had yearned to taste them. What drew him in most though were her eyes, they always did. But it was here, in the glow of the fire, that they shone like they did only in the rarest of moments, when she allowed her feelings to breach the surface of her usually so reserved demeanour.

The fact that he hadn’t seen her in quite a while only added to the effect she had on him. It must have been a good year ago, but the memory was still as vivid as if it had only been a few days. Andrew would never forget the darkness he had seen in her eyes that day. And he would never forgive the one who had put it there. The one she had called her lover back when lightning had first pierced Andrew’s defenceless heart. The one that sat right here by the fire among all their friends, like Judas among the apostels. Maybe even worse.

With the heed of each and every single one of Argos’ ninety-nine waking eyes, Andrew had watched them all night, searching for even the slightest signs of discomfort on her side, or worse, of phoenix rising from the ashes, but so far nothing alarming had passed between them.

Andrew had always admired former lovers who were able to turn failed romance into friendship, but seeing these two on friendly terms, watching her laugh about his witless jokes as if he hadn’t almost broken her heart beyond repair, made him seriously reconsider the veracity of that belief.

“Oh come on, not again,” someone broke his train of thought with their whiny complaint about the empty cooling bag. “I’m not going all the way up into the kitchen again to fetch you lazy fuckers more booze.”

Immediately more and more voices joined in, eager not to leave their comfortable spots by the fire and walk through the cold and dark of the garden—all but one, and he knew even before her lips had parted that she would take it upon herself to get the supplies from inside the empty house.

“All right,” she uttered with a soft sigh as she stood, “someone hand me the bag. I’ll go.”

Too quick for his brain to catch up on the movement, Andrew found himself on his feet as well and lunged towards the bag, beating her to it without any effort thanks to his long legs.

“I’ll come with you.”

He had feared she would protest, fastening his grip on the handle just in case she would try to yank it out of his hand while telling him she was plenty able to find the way to the fridge by herself. But she didn’t. Instead she just smiled up at him before her lips formed a silent thank you and Andrew was very grateful that his feet somehow remembered how to move on their own.

All evening a thousand questions he wanted to ask her had spiralled through his head. How was she doing? Had life treated her kindly since he had last seen her? God, he hoped it had. Still a part of him wished that didn’t extend to her love life as well and even though he knew it was childish to hope that her heart was still unclaimed because he wanted to make a home in it himself, he did.

But he probably never would. Especially not since telling her about the feelings he had nursed for so long seemed impossible if he wasn’t even able to start a simple conversation now that they were alone. Maybe it was for the best though, seeing that she obviously wasn’t too keen on starting a conversation either.

It hadn’t always been like this, awkward and unfamiliar, as if they had never talked whole nights through, deeply lost in their own tiny universe where everything orbited around music, poetry, literature, mythology, politics, philosophy and all the other topics the rest of the gang found too profound for a night of drinking and light entertainment. He had lived for those moments, loved to pick her marvellous brain until, if only for a brief point in time, he was able to see the world through her eyes.

And now he was standing here like a bloody fool, holding the bag for her in silence while she loaded bottle after bottle of cold brew into it. She was so close to him, her unique fragrance filling his senses every time she stirred the air between them when she turned. It was almost completely blanketed by the sharp stench of smoke. Almost. But not to him. He had memorised her scent like his favourite song, ready to recall every single note of it from memory even after all this time. Yet he seldomly allowed himself to do so. It made him careless, made his mind wander off to a place in which he imagined how she would feel, skin on skin. He wondered if she would taste just as good, her salty-sweet aroma still fresh on his tongue as their bodies became one in heated passion. He longed to feel her breath crawling up his neck as she moaned his name in pleasure, yearned to be wrapped tightly in the warmth of her—

“Andrew?”

The touch of her fingers gently pulled him from his fantasy, away from her and still back to her, back into the bleak reality of the kitchen with its buzzing fridge and cold neon lights.

“Huh?” he muttered sheepishly, his brain still unable to form a coherent sentence after what it had just dreamed up.

His irritation seemed to amuse her, a soft giggle breaking through her concern for a split second before she became serious again.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He tried his best to sound convincing, but he knew she could read him like a book and so he was quick to add, “How about you?”

“Me? I’m not the one who zoned out for a moment.”

“True.” He smiled down at her, warm and soft. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” For the blink of an eye the smile she had shot him in return faltered, and when it steadied on her lips again, it wasn’t quite the same anymore. “I’m good. Fine, actually. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I just thought…you know…with him being here and all…”

“Ah, I see.” Her hand found his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze before gliding down the length of it and Andrew thought he could feel her touch in his very bones. “It’s very sweet of you to worry about me, but there’s really no need to. After all it was a mutual split.”

Actually, he remembered their breakup a little differently, but if this was the narrative she had chosen to hold onto, he wouldn’t be the one to crush it for her. But when she pulled her hand away from his, it was her who felt the need to correct that statement.

“Okay, maybe the split itself wasn’t that mutual, but I know now that we had it coming for a long time. And I’ve made my peace with it.”

“That’s good to hear.” Andrew felt the awkward silence lure in the darkness that awaited outside the kitchen and still he needed another moment to gather the courage to ask the one question his heart feared the most and was still desperate to find the answer to. “So…um…are you…is there someone new in your life?”

“God no!” He hadn’t expected that reaction at all and even though he didn’t find his fears confirmed, there was something about her eyes and the tone of her voice that made his heart heavy for her. “I put that hope to rest rather quickly after I started online dating.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Part of him truly was because no matter how much he had wished for her to be single, he would never have wanted it to come at the cost of more hurt.

“No, don’t be. Some of the shit I’ve been through is actually quite amusing in retrospect. Come on, I’ll tell you a few stories on the way back.”

It had taken them quite a while before they could hear the laughter from the fireplace drift over to them again. They had stopped a few times on the way, mostly because he had temporarily forgotten how to walk in the face of the things she had told him. But no matter how he looked at it, amusing was far from the word he would use to describe most of the things she had endured. Disbelief had alternated with rage up to a point that he himself felt awful for even sharing the same sex with this scum.

After what he had just learned, Andrew couldn’t blame her for losing faith in love, not in the least. If anything, he was surprised how well she seemed to handle everything she had been through. In his eyes it was more than admirable. Of course he had known before that dating was seldomly an easy thing, but until now he had never realised what risks it held for women in a world almost entirely shaped by men.

“Promise me you won’t tell the others, okay? I wouldn’t want them to know. Especially not…”

Despite the darkness he could see her eyes shimmer with embarrassment. What for, he didn’t know. She had nothing to blame herself for.

“Of course. I promise. Cross my heart.”

A slender finger moved across his chest in two strokes to support his words and his childlike gesture made her smile. He had hoped it would. What he hadn’t anticipated however was her next move, and as her palm found the very spot he had just marked with a cross, his heart sank into his feet. There was nothing he could do to prevent it from speeding up, forced to stand and watch her catch on to it any second now while he felt its powerful drum underneath the thin layer of skin that covered his neck.

“So, you still seem to get along with Y/N exceptionally well. Any chances for a reunion then?”

Her hand fell away, his fear of getting caught forgotten immediately, when she turned towards the voices. The little group that sat around the fire was still veiled from view by a few thick bushes, but the teasing tone was enough to imagine the grin on the talker’s face. Andrew and the woman by his side were far from grinning though.

“Not in a million years. We split for a reason, you know.”

“Yeah, I totally understand. She’s kind of…special.”

“You can say that again.”

Even in the dim light that reached their hiding spot from the fire, Andrew could see her face fall. Fascinated and petrified alike by the myriad of emotions that flickered in the treacherous gleam of her eyes, he wished he could do anything but watch disaster unfold right in front of him. He might have thought of something, anything, had he known that they were far from finished with their humiliating ordeal.

“Might be the reason online dating isn’t going too well for her.”

“Honestly, I can’t say that comes as a real surprise.”

The conversation was far from over, but Andrew didn’t care anymore. All he cared about was the pair of wide eyes that seemed to stare right into the darkness of the cosmos as her body stumbled back a few steps.

“Y/N?”

The bag fell into the grass with a thud, the bottles inside clinking dangerously, but all he heard was her trembling voice that mumbled an absentminded excuse.

“I…I’m really tired. I should probably head home.”

And with that she just turned, the hint of an apologetic smile on her face, and let the shadows swallow her. For a second he just stood there, frozen in place by the rising panic inside of him, until the faint noise of a shaky breath carried over to him on the breeze.

“Wait.”

But she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. And why would she? He had done nothing to stop those eejits from their slander and he couldn’t blame her for assuming it was because he secretly agreed with them.

“Y/N, stop.”

His feet had begun to move at last, hurrying after her as fast as the slippery grass allowed until he could make out her silhouette only an arms-length away and reached for her.

“Please stop.”

His voice was soft, but his hold on her wrist wasn’t. He couldn’t let her walk away from him, not like this. Not before he had told her—

But the moment she turned to face him, the words died away in his throat as he took her in in the faint moonlight, two watery lines cascading down her cheeks like streams of stars. Words would not be enough to make them stop. It was foolish, a gesture born from sheer helplessness in the face of his beloved’s despair, but there was no falter in his hands when he pulled her in and sealed her lips with his own.

It wasn’t at all what he had hoped their first kiss to be like. But at least for a second he could feel her return it, her hands coming up to his chest, fisting the thick denim of his jacket, before she pushed him away.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

His honest bewilderment seemed to be completely lost on her. Instead her chin began to tremble dangerously.

“Don’t be kind to me because I’m sad. Your pity just confirms they are right.”

“Pity? You think this was a gesture of pity?”

Her silence was answer enough and Andrew could see her retreat into her shell again. Soon, she would once more shoot him that apologetic smile and flee the scene, without ever knowing that in this very moment, pity was the last thing he felt for her.

“What about this then?”

This time, he knew exactly what he was doing. Fully prepared to be pushed away again, to be yelled at or be slapped in the face, he leaned down. Gentle fingers cupped her cheek and he took it as a good sign that she didn’t shy away from his touch. He waited, one last moment for her to stop him, but she didn’t, and so he closed the last gap between them.

This was what it should have been like the first time. Soft and tender, full of affection, every fibre of his being filled with her until he didn’t know anymore where he ended and she began. Through the haze of his rapture he faintly noticed the soft press of her body against his, unwavering arms wrapping around his neck, and he pulled her closer, securing her in his arms while she moaned her sweet approval into his mouth.

He could have kissed her like this forever, but he still had a point to prove, a statement to make, and so he pulled away.

“Still think this was a pity kiss?” he panted against her lips and when her answer didn’t come, he pulled away further to look at her. He had hoped to be met with the familiar warmth of her eyes, but he found her gaze fixed on his jacket instead, where she watched her own hands adjust his collar.

“Even if it was—”

“It wasn’t.”

“Still,” she paused for a second, “what they say is true.”

“So? What’s wrong with being special?”

“I think we both know they didn’t mean special in a good way.”

Andrew sighed as his palm found her cheek again. “Maybe they didn’t.” He gently tilted her head and waited patiently until she finally decided to look at him. “But I do. I mean it in the best way possible when I say you’re special to me, Y/N. They may be right, you are complicated. But aren’t we all in our own way? That’s how nature has created us, as absolutely unique individuals, beautifully complicated. None of them may understand this, measuring you by society’s grotesque norms instead, but to me you are easy to love.”

“Andy, I…”

“It’s okay, love. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same about me. I just wanted you to know.”

This was it. He had said what he had wanted to say. Now she would try her best to be gentle in her rejection, thank him for his honesty and leave. He would probably not see her again after tonight.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as his forehead sank against hers, “I should have told you a long time ago.”

“Maybe, yes. Then again, I don’t think you could have chosen a better moment to tell me than this exact one.”

His brain had no time to process what she had just said, distracted by the hands that found his trembling form again, one gliding into the warm space between his shirt and jacket, the other smoothing along his cheek and into his hair to hold him in place. As if he would ever even consider parting from her in a moment like this. And then he could feel it again for a heartbeat, the feathery touch of her lips on his, ethereal and unreal like a fleeting daydream.

His next words came in a whisper against her own, anxious if he lost their touch, he might wake from this dream after all. “Do you still want to get out of here?”

“Desperately.”

“Will you let me walk with you then? Just to make sure my special girl gets home safe and sound.”

“I think,” she said quietly, her breath leaving a honeyed due on his lips, “that’s the best idea you had tonight.” Slowly he moved, still reluctant to part from her, and it was only when he had secured her hand safely in his own that he dared to pull away and began walking. “Your best idea apart from that pity kiss, maybe.”

“I told you, woman, it wasn’t a pity kiss.”

It was too dark to see her now, the moonlight shielded from them by the thick branches of a fir tree that hung above. And so, there was nothing he could do but squeeze her hand to make his protest known.

“Bollocks,” she huffed teasingly as she squeezed back, causing Andrew to stop in his tracks.

“Do I need to show you again?”

“It surely won’t hurt.”

She squealed in surprise as he wrapped his arm around her middle and manoeuvred her backwards. With a soft groan, her spine was pressed into the gnarly bark of the tree while her head landed securely against the back of a large hand that shielded it from impact.

“Kiss me, Andrew,” she breathed into the expectant silence, her fingers finding his lush curls again and guiding him towards the source of her heady whisper. And he did. Until he could feel the world around him starting to spin. He could have blamed it on the lack of oxygen or the darkness around them that heightened his senses, maybe even on the mere fact that this kiss had seemed so utterly unthinkable by the beginning of this evening, but he knew too well that it was the woman in his arms who made this kiss the most special he had ever shared. A kind of special he vowed to always cherish and never take for granted.

#hozier x reader #hozier #hozier fanfiction #hozier imagine #hozier fic #hozier fanfic #Andrew hozier byrne #special

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elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

this is neither the time nor the place

summary: baz likes to throw pre-oscar parties on the beach near his house. baz's parties are always a little interesting. austin shows you why. fandom: austin butler | elvis 2022 pairing: austin butler x plus size female reader rating: m. it's kinktober, y'all at best i can manage a high t in lower ratings. word count: 1550 warnings: public sex acts. thigh riding. fingering-ish. p in v sex, unprotected. literally having sex in front of people while they're not watching. minor embarrassment/humiliation kink. use of the word king and queen to describe the reader and austin. me making jokes about the reader being persephone and austin being hades. author's note: welcome to day 12 of kinktober, public play with austin butler. so this started out as fingering, then was going to be sex on the beach before i settled on this. i really actually like where it went. hope y'all enjoy this! this is subtle plus size reader, but let's be honest, i secretly just want to picture austin with a his girl in his lap, all the fabric of her skirt hiding the two of them and what they're doing. and before you say that's not possible, you should see the amount of fabric some of my skirts have.

Baz is excited this year. Baz has actually been excited from the moment production wrapped on Elvis, his post wrap party being one that Austin has told you about numerous times in between your giggles at Baz's antics- are you sure he wasn't drunk sweetheart- and your jealousy that you weren't a part of Austin's life back then. Every night he reassures you with kisses to your lips, your neck and your chest. You weren't a part of his life then, but you are now. You're his Persephone, enrapturing him from afar in the spring and summer but staying glued to his side the minute the cold gusts of autumn rolled in. Oscars are the last time you'll be able to spend an extended time period around each other. He's got yet another project booked and you- regretfully have to get back to your own job. Your own boring job despite his pleas to let him take care of you. To let him use his newfound fame and mild riches to take care of you. Maybe one day is always the answer he gets, with a side of you reminding him as much as he enjoys calling you Persephone and you teasing him about being Hades, he is not nearly rich enough just yet.

Baz greets you the second he sees the pair of you, enveloping Austin in a warm hug and pulling away to look at you with a hint of awe.

"Oh, Y/N, he has been hiding you away hasn't he? You look stunning. You actually rival my view of the sea." He practically croons and you can't help the way you tilt your head down and bite your lip.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Luhrmann. I still haven't quite forgive you for what I heard you did to my king. It'll take quite a few boombox moments with Nessun Dorma to get me to forgive you." You scrunch up your face in mock anger, wagging your finger as you do.

Baz laughs and leads you two inside. "Catherine will love you. Austin if you don't marry her- I may have to revoke your rights to come here as you please."

Austin gasps as he shuts the door. "You wouldn't."

Baz's only response is a shrug as he ushers you to the kitchen where some song you don't recognize is playing. It feels like a party and feels every bit like the party Austin had told you about. A few times you feel a little out of place, surrounded by absolutely stunning individuals but the second you even have a hint of distress on your face Austin is whisking you into his arms, dancing with your bodies pressed close together, his hands squeezing your hips, allowing your full ass to grind against him. Even during dinner you find yourself being lifted onto his lap. It's not the first time you've sat on his lap but as time went on you kept trying to move, trying to wiggle away to give his leg a break from your weight only to have Austin's lips at your ear, nipping at it just enough to earn a small gasp from you.

"Babe, if you move from that spot, everyone is gonna see what you've done to me, what you've done all night." He murmurs, looking around before his hand drifts to between your legs. "And we don't want that, do we?"

You shake your head slightly before placing your hand over his. "Austin- what are you doing?"

"Making my queen happy." He answers simply as he starts to bounce the leg you're on up and down, his thigh brushing your core every time he does. "Unless you don't want me to. Unless you want to stay aching for me all night. Don't know when Baz and everyone will leave us alone."

There's a sharp inhale of breath on your end before you lick your lips and move your fork to grab- fish, maybe it's chicken, honestly you've suddenly forgotten what you're eating in the haze of what Austin's proposing. "I don't know if i can stay quiet."

Another kiss, this time you can feel Austin's smirk against your skin. "You can. Ride my thigh, Queen. Your King knows what you need."

His leg keeps bouncing slowly, allowing you to shift every so often, allowing you to press your cunt against his thigh, reveling in the pressure it brings. It takes a minute to get into a groove but you're holding conversations, same as Austin as you feel your cunt clenching around nothing, trying to feel something other than the warmth of his thigh. You pause and move to get up off Austin only to feel his arm wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you back down with an audible thump. "What are you doing?"

You look around, noting that Olivia is staring at you with a raised eyebrow that you shrug off. It takes her a minute to look away but when she does, you lean into Austin's hold, making sure your entire weight is on him before you answer. "Need your knee, I'm close, Aus. Let me just-"

He growls lowly, earning another look, this time from Catherine and Kelvin and you feel the embarrassment and horror starting to eat away at your arousal before Austin smiles at them both and rather than giving you his knee, he starts to undo his pants, pulling out his leaking cock. No one can see it, not even those sitting closest to the pair of you, but it still almost makes your eyes pop out of their sockets to realize what he's doing. You're about to say something when he grabs you by the waist both hands lifting you up plopping you right on his cock. It's not perfect and once you realize what's happening, you end up having to adjust your skirt as he pulls aside your underwear. You're fully in his lap now, fully seated on his cock and you bite your lower lip so harshly you swear you feel blood. Austin decides that's the moment to take a bite of something and moan around the fork. You feel your cunt clench around him, you're not coming but something about hearing him moan like that has your body reacting. You wish he could grab your breasts like the normally would. That he could play with your nipples like he normally would but there's too many people at the table and you know you can't.

Austin moves his hips up, signalling for you to try and ride him. He doesn't say a word, instead choosing to lightly kiss you on the neck, his hands playing with your stomach absentmindedly. To anyone at the table, you just looked like a couple deeply in love who didn't want to keep their hands to themselves. You and Austin knew the whole truth though, that right now he had his cock buried in your cunt and your constant shifting was you bouncing up and down on his cock. You're becoming a little breathless at the effort to keep quiet and at the way you're having to move to feel the slide of him in and out of you so you try and hide a moan in a bit of potato only to have Baz look over at the two of you.

"Are you alright?" He asks just as Austin's hand slips in between your folds to find your pulsating clit and flicks his finger against it. You cough out a groan before you nod.

"I'm fine. Just- the food is good. Great even. I see why Austin talks so fondly of that last party." Your words are coming out in a rush as Austin continues his onslaught of your clit, rubbing and tracing small shapes, trying to get you to come. You can already feel him twitching, almost like he truly is getting off on knowing that any second now someone is going to realize you're fucking yourself on his cock. "It's practically orgasmic."

Somehow hearing you say orgasmic and feeling how you used your bit of kegel strength training to clench your cunt around him has Austin spilling inside of you, his cum filling you up. There's a moment when you realize Austin isn't wearing a condom and you panic, but not before he pinches your clit and you practically jump just slightly as your body has you coming, the force barreling into you like a freight train and having you grip the table with all the strength you can muster. You know it's written all of your face that you just came, you know it is especially when Baz's next words leave his lips.

"For both of you, it looks like." His lips curl into a knowing smirk before gathering everyone's attention for some story. "Austin's looking a little flushed, Y/N, there's a bathroom around the corner, see if you can't freshen him up."

Austin finally seems to come back to Earth at that and looks positively mortified even as you can feel his cock starting to swell back up. He lifts you up and quickly puts himself back together before standing up and pulling you close to hide his newfound erection. "Yeah. We're- we'll be right back."

You're not back until dessert.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #austin butler x plus size reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes

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spring-picnics · 2 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐈𝐈𝐈

the back of your knees by @baby-bearie

he confesses his love for you. eddie munson x reader

verus amor by @/baby-bearie

an incredible soulmate!au. mcu!peter parker x reader

blurb by @lesbiansforwillbyers

accurate stranger things headcanons. stranger things headcanons

spending autumn weekends with mike wheeler by @honeydenbrough

autumn fluff. mike wheeler x reader

blurb by @daintylovers

modern mike headcanons. mike wheeler x reader

blurb by @robin-buck1ey

post coma max and her parents. ronance x max mayfield

shot in the dark by @loserforeddie

eddie thinks you asked him out as a joke. eddie munson x reader

his scent all over by @thehalfbloodedwitch

ron rants to you about his detention. ron weasley x reader

must’ve been a deadly kiss by @ur-local-geek-fest

enemies to lovers. steve harrington x reader

i wanna be yours by @lurkymurker

he wants to be yours. steve harrington x reader

tornado warnings by @marvelsswansong

eddie falls for jason's girlfriend. eddie munson x reader

safe by @loeyparker

best friends to enemies to lovers. eddie munson x reader

ditch the books by @desireav

steve tries to get you to stop studying. steve harrington x reader

last spring by @syddidy

mike played with your heart. mike wheeler x reader

blurb by @/daintylovers

mike tried to keep you safe. he thought that would keep you apart from all of this, but it broke you. mike wheeler x reader

blurb by @aeipathiess

modern stranger things characters. stranger things x reader

blurb by @luveline

dad eddie fluff. eddie munson x reader

what it’s like to max's dumb smart gf by @gabbimunson

being in a relationship with max. max mayfield x reader

do you have the soup? by @hannuhbee

he wants the soup. steve harrington x reader

the way I loved you by @/lurkymurker

a life changing exes to lovers. steve harrington x reader

dating mike wheeler headcanons by @strangerthingsxreader

how he is in a relationship. mike wheeler x reader

the guessing game by @/desireav

eddie tries to guess your crush out of his jealousy. eddie munson x reader

el headcanons by @prettylikestars

my pretty baby el. eleven hopper

blurb by @bigboysteveharrington

robin getting vecna'd while my heart got broken. platonic!stobin

blurb by @rat-n-crow

will and el make art. platonic!will x el

foes to fond by @/thehalfbloodedwitch

an angsty fight leads to a lovely confession. mattheo riddle x reader

blurb by @ddejavvu

forcing eddie to wear winter clothes. eddie munson x reader

blurb by @evilkaeya

the fruity four tricking dustin. fruity four

blurb by @peterbenjiparker

peter playing video games and loving you. mcu!peter parker x reader

blurb by @appocalipse

steve apologising to you. steve harrington x reader

the season of sticks by @harringtown

vecna steals your memories. steve harrington x reader

soldier, poet, king by @starbxcks

theatre kid!enemies to lovers. eddie munson x reader

blind date with the freak by @hawkins-losers

your friends try to trick you, but the jokes' on them. eddie munson x reader

my girlfriend’s brother by @withlovemark

dustin trying to get a ride out of you and steve. steve harrington x reader

blurb by @loeyparker

max hearing eddie break your heart. eddie munson x reader

hot for teacher by @yesloverboy

tutoring eddie. eddie munson x reader

all because I liked a boy by @thxliaaa

the group hate you for dating steve. steve harrington x reader

puppy love by @h0neydewmoon

exes to lovers where you can't trust sirius. sirius black x reader

dead channels by @robiin-buckley

you tune in to a dead channel waiting to hear the boy on the other side. eddie munson x reader

blurb by @whynotimtired

mike wheeler needs advice. byler, willel

@spring-picnics

#sunnys.fic.recs #sunnys.favs #eddie munson x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #stranger things head canons #mike wheeler x reader #ronance #max mayfield #ron weasley x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #eleven hopper #platonic!stobin #mattheo riddle x reader #fruity four #byler #sirius black x reader #cold autumn nights 2022

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nakachuchu · 1 year

Text

Autumn Memories | Gojo Satoru

SYNOPSIS: You're still with him when the leaves have all fallen and died.

READER: female (gender neutral until the end)

WORDS: 1.1k

WRITTEN: 12/31/2022

NOTE: My request and event are open!

Being in the presence of the Gojo Satoru wasn't an easy feat. If he was interested in you and made it known, then the Elders knew about you as well. If he wasn't interested in you and had no meaningful contact with you, then you weren't protected by him.

But one could say that never meeting Gojo Satoru was protection itself. The man was a walking death trap, and while he had never deliberately brought Death to the people he cared about, he teased the notion of it to everyone who got close to him.

Being in love with him was another matter. The first time you confessed to him was when the two of you were students at Jujutsu Tech. You were seventeen and confessed to him at the end of September, when the leaves had begun to orange and brown, and fall off the trees.

You decided to confess near the start of the school year, deciding that if things went well, you could date for the school year before he graduated. If things went wrong, then that would be it. You could stop pining and stop thinking about the "What if's."

You weren't in his little group of friends and you weren't as strong as him or his best friend, which made you inferior and insignificant to him. Your best friend and classmate would ask why you were in love with Gojo, but you would simply tell him it was a secret.

Yu Haibara was a gift from God. He was your best friend, and he didn't deserve to die. After his death, you took more chances in life. Your time was short, and as a sorcerer, it was even shorter.

As expected, Gojo rejected your confession. You didn't cry, but you did sigh in defeat. No matter the outcome, you still handed him the bag of green tea mochi you specifically made the other night for the confession.

"I expect you to enjoy it thoroughly after breaking my heart, Gojo-san," you had said to him.

It wasn't the response he was expecting, but he still smiled and shrugged before saying "Will do" and walking away from beneath the tree at the school.

Once you graduated from Jujutsu Tech, you disappeared from Japan. You only did overseas missions, and even had an apartment in Italy where you returned on the very few moments you had time to relax.

A decade after your confession, you returned to Japan at the orders of your boss because of The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Autumn was beginning to end, and it was getting chillier in Japan. You didn't like the cold very much. You hadn't even thought about Gojo Satoru since graduating, and seeing him older and more chiseled was a nice sight for your eyes. It was a bit nostalgic, as well.

"L/N-san."

Your eyes flickered to the holder of the Six Eyes. "Gojo-san, it's been a while. How have you been?"

"Busy. You?"

"I'm getting by."

Once the battle started, there was no time for talking. Your mission was to destroy the demons and the people working with them.

Though it was autumn, your breaths came out frosted. Your fingertips were numb, tightening around your katana in order to ignore the cold.

"Yuki-Onna," you whispered.

The Snow Woman who was bound to your bloodline looked at you with black as night eyes. There wasn't an ounce of emotion on her perfect, beautiful face until you spoke again.

"Eat them all."

She smiled, baring her sharp teeth at you in glee before disappearing in a flurry of snow. She had gotten permission to rampage free on your enemies without being bound by a proximity spell.

"Y/N!"

You winced at Yaga's voice.

"Don't kill us too!"

"I'm not gonna," you muttered.

You survived the night without a single scratch on you, and Yuki-Onna was fed, feeling happy about her meals that night.

Geto Suguru was the culprit, and his best friend had dealt with him. You wished to offer your condolences to Gojo, but you knew he didn't care for the pity of a random person.

You attempted to flee back to Italy right after, but Yaga trapped you in Japan. You tried every excuse to leave, but he found ways out of every single one. Because you didn't have an apartment in Japan, you were given a room at Jujutsu Tech. It was nostalgic.

"This was his room."

You paused in unpacking your clothes and dropped the shirt you were holding back into your suitcase before turning around and standing up.

"Hello, Gojo-san."

His bandages had been taken off, and you could see his piercing blue eyes. It was a sight you rarely got to see.

"You're cold," he said as he walked closer.

You hadn't realized the temperature in your room significantly dropped. You cursed Yuki-Onna in your head for attempting to play matchmaker.

"I'm sorry. She does this sometimes. She thinks the cold will comfort me as it comforts her," you explained.

"I never saw her before."

"We never went on missions together," you said.

He nodded and reached out to touch your icy eyelashes. "I might start to think she's trying to kill you at this rate."

You offered him a soft, reassuring smile. "I might start to as well."

"The mochi was good,” he suddenly said.

He closed the gap between you and cupped your cheek with his hand before placing his lips onto your cold, frosty lips.

His lips and hand were warm, making your body eager for more. Yuki-Onna stopped the usage of her power, letting the room slowly return to its previous temperature.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” you questioned.

Gojo wasn't the type of man who easily let his guard down or show pure, raw emotion, but for you, he would at least tell you the truth.

“Yes.”

The last autumn leaf in Japan had fallen off.

It took you a long time to truly forgive him after he forced you to stay in Japan upon the arrival of Itadori Yuuji.

Being in the presence of the Gojo Satoru wasn't an easy feat. He did whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted to, and that included stopping you from getting onboard many flights back to Italy.

“Satoru,” you said, annoyed as you walked around his apartment and unpacked your belongings from your suitcase.

“Yes, my sweet Y/N?”

“You're so annoying,” you grunted. “I can't believe I ever liked you. You're so frustrating.”

He smiled. “I know. Because you love me now. Isn't that cute?”

You rolled your eyes. “You can handle Sukuna. You know, there are other curses around the world, right?”

He ignored your complaint. “How am I supposed to survive without my wife?”

“That's not my — Wife?”

You turned around and saw he was holding a ring between his slender fingers. You could hear your heart beating against your rib cage as your eyes flickered between his eyes and the ring.

The first autumn leaf had turned red and fallen off the tree.

“Yes!”

#jujutsu Kaisen x reader #gojo Satoru x reader #Satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

Note

Can you give us some quick headcanons about Halloween with Eddie?

🍂 Eddie Munson Halloween Headcanons 🍂

“So as it turns out I don’t know what the word ‘quick’ actually means. I’m sorry. No further questions your honour.” punk-in-docs, 2022 @asnackdriver

Halloween with Eddie Munson; dear god you’d think it was Christmas and his Birthday all rolled into one. He gets so whirly and excited about it.

Scary movies. Crunchy brown leaves underfoot. Rubber masks. Candy corn. Halloween costumes. Pumpkins. Cocoa with some whiskey sneaked in it.

Explains in lengthy detail just why it’s his favourite time of year: summer in Hawkins is too fucking hot. Too sweaty. Everywhere is stifling and busy, it’s just no fun to be stuck in that soupy humidity. Weedy old fan not enough to keep him sweating his balls off in his sauna of a bedroom.

He basically whines and suffers through summer. Autumn is his time;

“Pumpkin spice baby, fuckin’ pumpkin spice!” He yelps, as he jiggled up and down like a puppy.

“You’re insane Munson.”

“I’m not insane. I’ve got the psychiatric reports to prove it. A slender majority of the panel decided in my favour.” Then comes that maniacal grin.

“I just love fall. Kay? Almost as much as I love you.” He explains.

He loves loves loves the cold. Mega love. Likes jumpers and layers, and endless blankets piled on his bed. Like a baby bird wedged safely in a nest. Warm cosy things to wrap himself up in. The cool evenings where he can truly feel the burn of a cigarette sparking warmth, and nicotine swirling through his lungs.

He wears fingerless black wool gloves in the cold (you can’t convince me otherwise on that one, nope, sorry)

Even though he wears gloves, he still comes in from the autumn chill outside, rubbing his palms together, and is immediately shoving chilled fingertips around your neck to make you squawk. Feel them sweetcheeks. Freezin’ my ass off out there-

Then he dives in to rub his cold red nose all over your neck. Boys a fuckin’ menace.

There’s something cozy about the trailer when it’s all wrapped up warm and bitter cold is pressing in from outside. Sure it’s not fancy but it’s a home. With a capital H.

It’s not stuffy or elegant. It’s welcoming. Even with its squashy matted carpets pocked with coffee stains, it’s scratchy curtains and it’s lumpy unappealing couch. It smells like detergent and cigarettes.

It’s the best place on earth to be when you’ve got your favourite crazy metalhead wrapped around you. Arms around you. Lips in your neck. He’s like a sunshiney heat lamp that never shuts up. You love it.

You bake cookies, Eddie is a terrible kitchen assistant. He gabbles too much. Can’t keep still. He gets in the way - nicely - he faffs with the radio and turns the oven up way too hot. Thankfully you’re there to salvage it.

Icing cookies. Shaking orange and black sprinkles into the dough. Stamping them into the shape of pumpkins and ghosts. Vanilla and sugar studded kisses whilst you wait for them to rise in the tiny oven. Drizzling icing on when they’re cool. Eddie smothers your cheek in sticky sugar kisses.

Going to the movies near Halloween is almost a pilgrimage for Eddie. He sneaks a glance at Wayne’s paper to see what’s playing, and scoops you up every Friday night to take you along. No arguments.

He buys you butter popcorn and a humongous cherry coke. You buy him gummy bears, red vines, and milk duds. His sweet tooth is insane. He stuffs ten cookies in his face and still says he needs something more after-

You watch whatever they show that’s spooky. Happily. Little Shop of Horrors, Young Frankenstein, Rocky Horror Picture Show, House of Wax and Aliens have been your collective favourites so far.

You’re both down for anything. Hammer horror scare jumps. The old black and whites and their swelling suspense. Slashers with ear shredding screams, overdone gore and long gleaming knives.

He tucks an arm around your shoulders and nuzzles his smug lips over the shell of your ear. You can hold my hand if you’re scared, Princess.

You chuck popcorn at him. Shove it in his mouth with three fingers till he smiles. Cackling in the dark.

Then he’s the one screeching like a banshee, and leaping out his seat on the hair splitting jump scene. You choke on your sip of coke.

“Awh honey. Did you want to hide in my chest if you’re scared?”

He grins and makes grabby hands for your boobs.

You drag his ass out of bed early one weekend to go to the pumpkin patch. It’s worth it though.

You romp around with him there, following along in his chunky boots and his leathers and you’re picking up big fat gourds like happy little kids. Taking them home to carve and set outside the trailer steps.

Jagged scary mouths and and sharp frowning eyes, and a candle flickering fiery inside. Your hands are stained turmeric yellow. The smell of carved Jack O Lanterns is almost suffocating. Pressed from thin wall to wall in the Munson trailer. Gooey gourd and the pipped squelching orange insides.

You warm the cider bought from the farm shop on the stove, to share with Wayne.

Bubble it with a cinnamon stick, orange peel and grated nutmeg. Maybe that would shift the scent of pumpkin innards. Apples and cinnamon stroked on the air. It’s delicious.

You weren’t planning on going trick or treating. But as it turns out, some of the kids - Hellfire Club included - want help with their costumes.

You were the responsible babysitter whose been looking after these kids on and off since middle school; of course you’d take them. And yes, you would also stop by the Diner after and get a mega ice cream shake. Maybe you’re a soft touch.

Eddie sidles up to you and rests his chin on your shoulder. Chocolate drop eyes all melty. “I want a mega shake too.”

“For gods sake. Alright. Get in the car.”

So it’s a visit to the craft store and then the dollar store to get body paint and fake cherry red blood, and scary rubber masks with fake tufts of tacky hair. Prop foam knives and plastic Jack O lantern buckets to store the hauled goodies in.

Eddie wrestles on a white Michael Myers mask and grabs you from behind in the costume aisle.

Pretends to put the edge of the foam knife over your throat. Those scrawny hips swaying into your ass. Ringed fingers spread over your stomach. Holding the knife to you menacingly.

“I’m in character sweetie. Got a thing for hella cute babysitters.” He cackles. His fingers walk playfully up your stomach. He saws the knife across your neck. Soft squishy edge of foam pressing into your collarbones.

You laugh in amusement. Clutching your hand over those chunky silver rings. “Does this make me a scream queen, Munson?”

He cackles. It’s lewd.

“Definitely my scream queen, baby.”

You tip your head back and away into him. Head on his shoulder. Hip to hip. His chest pasted to your back.

“In that case, you’re the scary monster of my heart. Honey.”

“You guys are seriously distressing. Can we go get shakes now?” Henderson asks.

“Eddie you’re gonna have to get off me. Let’s go kiddos.” You round up your wandering band of troops.

“I have attachment issues. Trouble around letting my prey go.” Eddie saws the knife side to side around your throat again. Up under your jaw. Like Norman Bates in Psycho. Playing with knives and pretty girls.

“I prefer what’s under the mask, handsome.” You beam.

“Now come on. If you want your mega chocolate shake you gotta unhand me if we have to get a move on.”

“A good killer never let’s go of his final girl. Don’t you watch the films?.” Eddie grins as he slips off the mask. Chucks the knife into your very loaded cart. His hair is all mushed around and you try and pat it back into semi-respectability.

“Not that you’re interested but I wanna puke.” Erica grimaces. Didn’t stop her reaching for more apple cider oreos though. Layering more goodies in your cart when she thought you weren’t looking.

“Lady Applejack- if I may-“ He holds his hand out. Other one clutched over his heart. Sweet sugar smile.

Five seconds later and Eddie had her hop up in the cart, cushioned by the sheer amount of costumes stuffed in there. And he’s running full pelt down the aisles and leaping on the back as they rocket along. Her laughs and Eddie’s rolling through the store back to you. He’s just a big kid too.

A couple nights later and Halloween finally strikes.

You expected to spend it cosied up at the trailer with Eddie, snacks, and a seriously good joint. You actually spend it taking the rag tag pack of kids, trick or treating.

You don’t mind it. Not really. They’re a pain in the ass. But they’re your pain-

You wore a chunky rust coloured sweater and jeans with your suede jacket. You were too old for costumes. Eddie agrees. Way too old for that shit. Like he’s all jaded. A grizzled veteran. His years of ghost costumes consisting of bed sheets with wonky cut out eyeholes, has passed.

But you’ve glimpsed the tattered polaroid Wayne had in his wallet. Sun bleached from the years and the thumbs over it, to know that little middle school Eddie wore a costume and got his plastic pumpkin bucket just like the rest of them.

He spends the whole time your shadowing the kids, with his arm slung over the back of your waist, slipping his hand up your warm spine and grumbling how hot you are. Your heat burning through to his rings.

You wander along. You listen to kids laughing and shuffling down the safe dark sidewalks of Hawkins. With its kitschy square box houses, painted picket fences and straight trimmed hedges. The golden porch lights that glimmer off the gold house numbers, and the carved pumpkins glowing orange off each doorstep.

He raids Dustin and Lucas’ buckets when they come back. He demands a Reece’s cup, a charleston chew and some Hersheys kisses. Escort fee you little pipsqueaks.

He also finds something else in one of those buckets. Rifling his big hand through the little bowl of plastic as Lucas tries to shuffle away. You’re just fixing the loose something or other on Dustin’s ghostbuster costume, so you’re distracted momentarily.

You pat Dustin on the back and send him off on his merry way. He gives you a fun size snickers as a thank you. Bobbing off to join the gang. You tell them to stay close by.

“Don’t go running off on us, kiddos. Or there’ll be a candy penalty by way of recompense.” You warn.

When you turn around Eddie’s grinning with something behind his back. He swoops suddenly to grab your waist and nibble on your neck.

You yowl laughter cause he’s got a set of those fake bleach white vampire fangs sinking into the soft of your neck. The goof.

“I vant to suck your bloooood.” He croons in a fake Transylvanian accent. Hissing and stabbing the teeth along your jugular. Gumming them into you. Stumbling you along joined along the sidewalk. Feet tangling and clashing together.

“Very convincing, Drac.” You laugh.

Then he’s on his ripped knees on the dirty leaf strewn tarmac. Probably getting his jeans all kind of dirty and wet.

Hands planted on your hips to keep you steady. He’s rifling through his leather jacket pocket and ripping a packet open. It’s too dark to see what it is.

Then he’s holding out an electric blue ringpop to you. He slips it up your ring finger on your left hand. Goofy grin - with big plastic fangs - shining up at you. His muddy puddle eyes shining all sincere. Bursting with little shooting gold stars in the street lights.

“Be my bride for eternity?” He asks. Speaking awkwardly around the fangs.

You hold your hand out and inspect the big gem of candy. The plastic was loose on your finger. But it made you smile. He always finds a way to make you smile. That’s who he is.

You reach across and wriggle those fangs out his mouth. They’re all spitty and gross. But it doesn’t stop you kissing him sweetly. Cupping his face and getting a good press of those adorable lips.

“Sure. But dealbreaker. I’m not sleeping in a coffin. Would be murder on my back.”

He grins. Back to being looped around you. Loping his steps along with yours. Leather hooked around your shoulder.

He’s kissing your cheek. Kiss after kiss after kiss. You twist to the side and meet his lips. Hand digging into the back of his messy hair. You smile cause he’s damn irresistible.

“Let’s make cocoa after this. Warm up. I got some marshmallows and some rum to put in it. Spice it up a bit.” He winks at you. You can’t resist that smile - fangs or no.

You raise an eyebrow. “You’ve got rum?”

And there’s that cheeky Munson grinTM surfacing. Stretching cheeks and bringing up dimples.

“It wasn’t always mine.”

Sounds about right.

Tagging some beloved Munsonites @indouloureux @stiegasaw @munsonquinns @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x oc #halloween fluff #halloween #halloween vibes #autumn #fall spooky vibes #honestly fall and eddie? my jam son #falloween #punkwrites

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alwritey-aphrodite · 2 years

Note

Borrowing sweatshirts + Marc?

2022 Fall Blurbs

Marc Spector was a fiend for collecting sweatshirts.

At every store you visit, you practically need to physically restrain him from purchasing every sweatshirt they have in the store. He already has quite an extensive collection: solid colors, patterns, some for places he’s been or just his favorite sport teams. You can’t even count the amount of Cubs sweatshirts he owns.

Though, you can’t really complain. He always checks how soft they are before he buys them, sticking his thumb past the wrist cuff to gently rub against the fabric, making sure it’s the right amount of softness. And he hates when they’re tight around his throat, so he always buys a size up.

They’re perfect to steal.

Really, how can you be blamed when they’re all soft and cozy and smell like Marc, the perfect size to keep you warm through the cold autumn months. Whenever Marc leaves the apartment, whether it’s for a night or a week, you find yourself wandering over to his side of the closet and pulling on one of his sweatshirts.

That’s how he finds you, most of the time: asleep on the couch, bundled up in one of his sweatshirts with something playing quietly on the TV.

He really doesn’t understand why you like them so much. He’s even offered to buy you your own, something so you could match, but you’d turned him down, saying that it wasn't the same. He’d grown confused, because it was literally the same, but then you’d explained why and Marc felt his heart clench, his throat close up.

You liked having a piece of him when he went away, something that still smelled like him, something to keep you warm and cozy until he returned. Though, that’s not the only reason you wear them.

Your London apartment is drafty, and can get especially chilly in the fall months. It’s just convenient that there are so many cozy sweatshirts around, as if you’d ever turn down an opportunity to wear your boyfriends’ clothes.

And Marc acts like it annoys him, like he’s put-out whenever he comes back from getting groceries or taking out the trash and you’ve taken that time to slip on one of his sweatshirts and continue on with your day. He’ll sigh and roll his eyes, but you notice the way he can’t seem to stop looking at you, that there’s a little smile on his face whenever you catch him out of the corner of your eye.

Even though he’ll never tell you, Marc loves seeing you in his clothes, especially in those sweatshirts he’s so fond of. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, in a way that he can’t even properly explain.

He likes knowing that you're comfortable, and the thought that something he owns, something that reminds you of him, makes you feel comfortable brings him an immeasurable amount of joy, he couldn’t put it into words if he tried.

All he knows is that his sweatshirts make you feel warm and cozy, so he’ll continue to let you steal them from him, even if he doesn’t understand your reasoning. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy, and the fact that it’s him making you happy makes it all ten times better.

Tags: @ophelialoveshandsomemen

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector fanfic #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #2022 fall blurbs

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ectoentity · 1 year

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2022 Fic Wrap-up

Happy New Year! Decided to make a list of all the fics I’ve written in the last year.

Family Secrets: Danny Phantom - The Fentons take a week during winter break to fix up the old family cabin. When Danny and Jazz stumble across a secret, an old artifact has a strange effect on Danny. (Complete)

Can’t Go Home Again: Danny Phantom - Three weeks ago Danny told his parents about him being Phantom. They didn't take it well. His friends haven't heard from him since then, so they summon him back to Earth. (On Hiatus)

Warped Mirror: Danny Phantom - A year and a half ago, Danny Fenton stepped into a portal. He tripped and hit the button inside... but it was unplugged, so nothing happened.

Today, Danny Fenton is a ghost hunter like his parents. A ghost sends him into another world where everything he knows is backwards. (On Hiatus)

Autumn Roads: Danny Phantom - Kitty and Johnny are having a good time, riding through the human world on an autumn night, when Phantom comes to ruin their fun. The encounter raises questions for the pair. Mainly, why doesn't this Phantom kid know anything about being a ghost? (Complete)

Quality Time: DPxDC - The life of a vigilante crime lord made it hard to schedule family time. When Jason wasn’t dealing with someone trying to muscle in on his turf or some supervillain nonsense, he was having to juggle the logistics of keeping his little criminal organization on track. He barely had a day to himself, let alone one to spend with anyone else.

The fact remained that Danny had asked to go to a water park months ago. (Complete)

Clean Up on Aisle Ninja: DPxDC - Danny was not expecting to see a whole posse (was that even the right term?) of ninjas when he popped out of the ectoplasm portal. To be honest, he wasn’t expecting to see anyone. Fright Knight had told him that there were pools of tainted ectoplasm spread around Earth that he would have to cleanse, but not where they were or who was around them.

“Uh. Avon calling?” Danny joked.

He instantly turned intangible as twelve knives, shuriken, and spears pierced his location. (Complete)

Tell Me More: DPxDC - Tim wakes up bound to a chair in a cold, white room. Not too unusual for him, until the kidnappers start calling him Phantom and acting like he's not human. (Complete)

A Little Trick: DPxDC - There's something spooky going on in the Watchtower. No one can figure out how to stop it, so they call on the King of Ghosts to sort things out. (Complete)

Found and Lost: DPxDC - The Justice League has been called up to help with the raid of a mysterious organization that was recently exposed for its inhumane experimentation on beings known as ghosts. Robin wasn't expecting to find a strange thermos in the middle of what looks like a torture chamber. He certainly wasn't expecting to find a boy inside of the thermos. (Complete)

Night Will Come but Not to Stay: DPxDC - Jazz is excited about going to Gotham University for college. It's halfway across the country from Amity Park and anyone who knows about her weird family or ghost nonsense. Finally, she can pretend to be a normal woman who just wants to go into psychiatry. She meets a cute guy named Jason, and they seem to be getting along great.

Jason finally decided to put aside his vigilante work long enough to get a degree. He's learning how to be a normal person again, with a family that cares for him. He's even made a few civilian friends, including a cute girl named Jazz.

Surely, nothing could come up that would reveal their other lives to each other. (WIP)

Anima, Animus: DPxDC - There is a darkness growing in Gotham. One that is far different from the comfortable shadows and familiar fiends that the Bat-family is used to. It is preying on their people and making life even more dangerous than usual. They need an expert to find out what is happening to their city.

Halfway across the country, ghostly hero Danny Fenton is having dreams that belong to someone else: his long-lost brother Jason Todd. (WIP)

#my writing #danny phantom fanfic #danny phantom #dpxdc #i fell hard in that crossover hole #sorry for anyone who likes my non-crossover dp fics

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monthofsick · 1 year

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The longest Night

Nov(emeto)ber 2022, Day 30: 5 + 1

OCs: Jamal, Nikita

The title fits quite well because this actually is my longest story so far and I just spent the entire night finishing it. It's already early morning of December 1st where I live, but I hope it still counts as an entry. There are a lot of themes and tropes I love in this one and the relationship between Jamal and Nikita evolves even more. It's late/early, I'm tired and time was ticking, so proof reading had to be done a bit quicker. Hopefully, there aren't too many mistakes and you can still enjoy it!

TW: Vomit, illness, mild scat

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A hesitant knock on the door disrupted Jamal's sleep. He woke up with a jolt and was instantly hit by a jab in the neck. Had he fallen asleep at his desk again? Jamal grimaced and rubbed his stiff muscles. The shorter days and cloudy skies drained his energy. Sooner or later, Jamal would get used to the changes in sunlight exposure and weather and the autumn fatigue would wear off. Until then, he had a hard time getting things done.

"Hello?" An insecure voice, followed by some more tapping. Jamal had only been half aware of the sound that had ripped him out of a rather bizarre dream. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and cleared his throat to sound more awake.

"I'm here!" Rotating his head to get a little crack out of his nape, Jamal got up and rushed to the door. A stocky young man with brown curls and dark eyes was waiting outside, staring at Jamal like he was surprised by him stepping out of his own dorm room. Jamal knew that his name was Karl and that he lived on the same floor. They didn't share any courses, but they sometimes chatted while brushing their teeth in the morning. It wasn't that Jamal could write a psychological evaluation of his fellow student, but he definitely hadn't seen that concerned and insecure expression on his face before.

"Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you, but I'm a bit worried right now and I didn't really know who to turn to."

"Yeah, sure." Jamal was confused. Karl had two of his closest friends in the rooms right next to him. He and Jamal got along well, but they weren't confidants. "Wanna come in?"

"Ah, no, you should come along." Karl pointed his thumb in the direction of the community bathroom. "You're close with Nikita, aren't you? I mean, the guy doesn't have a lot of friends and he made it pretty clear that he wanted me to, uhm, leave, so…"

"Wait, what's wrong with Nikita?" Jamal was suddenly wide awake. "Is he sick?"

"I don't know exactly, he didn't want to tell me." Karl rubbed his palms nervously. "He locked himself in a toilet for at least two hours."

"Fuck. I'm coming with you."

It actually was the other way around – Jamal storming down the corridor with huge steps, Karl tagging along. The bathroom was empty, as usual at this time of day. It was a bright and nicely renovated area with small toilet rooms instead of cubicles with a gap at the bottom. At least a bit more privacy in a place they had to share with everyone else on the floor.

Jamal took a deep breath and knocked on the only door that was shut tight.

"Hey, it's me", he announced himself. "Can you let me in, Nik?"

There was a moment of silence. A weird, strained noise. And then, to Jamal's relief, the door was opened slowly and Nikita peeked out. He looked like death warmed over. Nikita was always pale, but right now his complexion resembled a sickly green. Quickly, before Karl could see the blonde in this miserable state, Jamal slipped in and locked the door behind him again.

"How do you know?" Nikita's voice was cold as ice, but his lips trembled slightly.

"Karl told me." Undeterred by his friend's standoffish demeanor, Jamal put both hands on Nikita's shoulders. His entire body shivered so hard that Jamal was surprised he could stand at all. "I'm glad he did. You look like absolute shit. Now stop giving me the evil eye and tell me what's wrong."

It was obvious that Nikita struggled with himself. He was all about control and he still had a hard time showing any kind of vulnerability, even towards Jamal. In the end, Nikita's body made the choice for him as his knees gave in. Gladly, Jamal had trained his fast responses well and he caught Nikita with both arms before he collapsed. Holding him close, Jamal got down on the floor and brushed some sweaty strands of light hair out of Nikita's forehead.

"Don't worry, I got you." Jamal felt the heat radiating from Nikita's body, his unsteady breath and damp skin. There was no question wether he was sick, only what exactly he suffered from. "Come on, Nick, just let me know what's bothering you. I'll do what I can to help you."

"I… I suddenly felt so sick." Nikita exhaled and it seemed like all of his strength and defiance left his body with his breath. He sank against Jamal's chest and held on to his shirt with one hand. "I was fine after lunch, but then it got so bad I had to leave during class."

"Did you have to throw up? Or lost it from the other end?"

"Nope, not at all." A humorless laugh escaped Nikita's lips. "I thought I would, guess why I made a run for the restroom. Been waiting for it ever since. It feels like it's coming up every second, but it doesn't. Fuck me."

"God, Nik. I wish I had known earlier." Jamal hugged Nikita for a moment. He had often joked about Nikita's claims that he never puked. It was the reason they had bonded in the first place. That night in the locker room when Jamal had found Nikita, dead drunk and sick to his stomach, but unable to purge the poison. Even in this highly intoxicated state, Nikita had needed Jamal's assistance to vomit. Maybe it was a process his body struggled with for whatever reason. Or Nikita had conditioned himself to hold it in at all costs.

With a husky moan, Nikita squirmed in Jamal's arms. The blonde clutched his stomach like he wanted to rip out the pain with bare hands. His face contorted with a silent retch. It looked absolutely excrutiating.

"We gotta get that stuff out of you." Jamal grabbed Nikita's shoulders again and straightened him up just enough to look him in the eyes. "Do you want me to help you?"

Nikita hesitated. Then he flinched and moaned, probably because of another cramp. He let out a defeated sigh and nodded weakly.

"Guess I don't have much of a choice. It can't be worse than this."

"Trust me, it will be a huge relief." Putting on his most encouraging smile, Jamal moved Nikita closer to the toilet. "Come on, let's get it over with."

Visibly reluctant, Nikita got on his knees and bent over the bowl. Jamal leaned over Nikita's arched back, putting one hand on his rumbling stomach, the other one on his chin. Nikita tensed in his grip.

"Try to relax, Nik." Jamal touched Nikita's lips with two fingers, asking to be let in. For a second, it seemed like Nikita would back out, but then he opened his mouth. Jamal rubbed Nikita's belly in gentle circle, feeling it bubble like overboiling water. When Nikita eased up a bit, Jamal let his fingers slide in. As soon as he touched the slick surface of the tongue, it tried to push him out again. Undaunted by the counterattack, Jamal moved along Nikita's palate until he reached the back of his tongue, then held it down. It was enough to trigger a first gag.

Nikita's head bobbed back to escape the nauseating procedure, but Jamal had a firm grip on his chin. A drip of viscous saliva ran down Jamal's hand. That was a good sign. Nikita's body took protective measures against the impending storm tide of gastric acid.

"I know this is bad, but I promise it won't take long", Jamal reassured Nikita as he went in deeper. A violent retch shook Nikita's body as Jamal's fingers slipped down his throat. Jamal felt the muscles tightening around his fingers. He gently moved back and forth, ignoring the teeth that dug into the back of his hand and the drool that kept on flowing over his skin. Nikita retched helplessly, his stomach contracting harshly with every heave. Jamal pushed against his abdomen in sync with the convulsions, firmly pressing in and upwards. "You're almost there, Nik, just let it happen."

Nikita choked wetly. His back tensed and curved even more, pushing against Jamal who mimicked his posture, hugging him from behind. It was a weirdly intimate moment, being so close to each other in this deeply private and vulnerable situation. Jamal kept on stroking the back of Nikita's throat, his slight moves inducing frantic spasms. Nikita's face was flushed and tears ran from his eyes with each gag Jamal forced out of him. He was close.

Speeding up his tiny movements, Jamal rubbed against Nikita's uvula. The blonde jerked forward with another throaty heave, causing Jamal's fingers to thrust in even deeper. Every single muscle in Nikita's body seemed to tighten up and cramp all at once until suddenly, a surge of hot liquid gushed over Jamal's hand.

"There you go, get it all out." Jamal let his fingertips stroke down Nikita's tongue as he pulled back, eliciting another retch from him. Before Jamal had a chance to get his hand out of the way, Nikita puked up a much bigger surge of orange mush. Jamal felt the thick, warm fluid and a few chunks slide over his skin and he had to swallow a gag himself. Yes, it was gross, but he couldn't let it show when Nikita had finally let down his guard.

Lurching dangerously close to the vomit-spattered bowl, Nikita gurgled up more of his meal. The color and texture looked disturbingly close to pumpkin soup, probably what had been on the cafeteria's menu today. It splashed back and coated the white ceramic walls in pureed Hokkaido. Jamal pulled Nikita even closer to prevent him from dunking into the rising lake of barf. With only one clean hand at his disposal, Jamal stroked Nikita's hitching chest with his thumb while he held him up.

Bigger orange lumps fell out of Nikita's mouth and plopped heavily into the puke below. He coughed and spat several times before he slackened in Jamal's grip.

"You did great", Jamal smiled and sat up, pulling Nikita with him. The blonde looked even worse than before, eyes half closed, his face reddish and covered in sweat, tears and vomit. Jamal wiped off the mess, then cautiously leaned Nikita into a corner to keep him stable and upright. He flushed and cleaned the toilet, then thoroughly washed the sticky throw-up from his hand. Finally, he returned to Nikita. "Feeling better?"

Nikita nodded faintly. It was enough for Jamal to decide upon a change of location. It was about time his friend could snuggle into his own bed instead of lying on the cold restroom floor.

Shivering and exhausted, Nikita was sitting on his bed, blanket pullet up to his chin. He had his own electric kettle in his room, so Jamal poured him a cup of ginger tea. Curled up in himself, Nikita took small sips while staring into the void. Jamal sat down next to him.

"How y're holding up?", he asked, stroking Nikita's head.

"I don't know. Still nauseous." Nikita bit his lip. "It's okay, you can go now. I'm going to sleep anyways, I'm done with this day."

"No way, I'm not gonna leave you alone."

"…and that's how you're gonna get yourself sick." With a grim expression, Nikita carefully drank from the steaming hot beverage, then put it away on the nightstand. "I'm not a kid. I can take care of myself."

"So what. Maybe it's just food poisoning." Jamal shrugged and leaned back. "I'm going nowhere. Bed's big enough for both of us. By the way, I pretty much pulled the puke out of your stomach with my bare hands. If this is contagious, I've probably caught it already."

"Whatever. Don't complain if I say I told you so." Nikita tried to act unmoved, but only a moment later, he froze, eyes slightly widened. "Hand me a bucket."

"Damn it." Jamal jolted up. He wasn't sure if Nikita would actually throw up on his own this time, but he didn't want to find out the hard – or rather, soft and mushy way. The fact that Nikita cupped his mouth with one hand definitely wasn't a good sign. "Try to hold it in!"

With a big leap, Jamal plunged towards the desk and grabbed the trash can. Immediately back on his feet, he spun around and got back to Nikita with two strides. He placed the bin under Nikita's lap, just in time before a spurt of amber liquid burst from the blonde's lips. Jamal held Nikita's head in place while he gagged up mouthful after mouthful of runny vomit. It hit the scrunched up paper and wrappers with a crinkling sound.

"Tea didn't want to stay down, mh?" Every last bit of color drained from Nikita's face as he burped up a slimy mixture of ginger brew and bile. For a while, Nikita kept on hanging over the trash bin, eyes closed, mouth open, long strands of drool clinging to his lip. Jamal watched him closely. "Think you're done?"

After a few more seconds, Nikita spat out and replied with a nod. Jamal got a paper tissue from a box on the desk, then wiped off Nikita's mouth. Fortunately, there was a trash bag in the bin that he could take out easily and knot up on top to seal away the sour odor. Good thing Nikita was such a tidy person. Jamal put in another bag and placed the bucket next to the bed.

"Gonna get rid of this, try to rest."

Nikita growled something unintelligable before he sank back into his pillow and pulled the covers all the way up. When Jamal returned, Nikita already slept deeply and soundly. Jamal slowly lay down behind him. It was a tight fit on the matress, but at least Jamal was sure he would notice if Nikita got sick again. He cuddled up to his friend and it wasn't long before he dozed off.

When Jamal opened his eyes again, it was almost dark in the room. He wasn't sure what had woken him up – a movement? A noise? Nikita was still huddled against him, breathing calmly, but something wasn't right. It was the unmistakable stench of partly digested and fermented food, mixed with bile and stomach acid. Jamal pushed himself up to assess the situation. Nikita had vomited in his sleep. A heap of brownish-orange chunks piled up right next to his mouth, part if it smeared on his cheek.

With a quiet sigh, Jamal rolled out of bed. Armed with the entire box of tissues, he picked up the soggy mass. At least it was mostly solids – it actually looked a lot like thick baby food with some bigger lumps. As gently as possible, Jamal cleaned the sick from Nikita's skin. It hadn't been long since Nikita had thrown up, the puke hadn't dried yet and could easily be wiped away. Jamal was conflicted. Nikita's barf mountain had left a stain on the pillowcase, but it seemed rather superficial. Leaving Nikita on a dirty cushion obviously wasn't an ideal solution. If it meant that he didn't need to be disturbed and could sleep through the night, it still seemed like the better option.

Jamal took off his shirt and placed it in front of Nikita's face. It covered the wet spot and offered extra layers of protection if Nikita expelled more of his stomach contents. Weird how Jamal's hands-on assistance seemed to have pulled a plug. Now the vomit had literally spilled out of Nikita on its own. It was probably better for him.

Nikita looked so different while he was asleep, almost peaceful. Jamal wondered if it was cold were Nikita came from. It would have fit him. Everything about him was so light – his hair, his skin, even his eyelashes. He belonged in the snow. Absentmindedly, Jamal watched Nikita for a little while until a yawn reminded him that a good night's rest wouldn't hurt him either. He made himself comfortable again and hoped that both of them would be awakened by the sun in the morning.

Actually, it was a thud that ended Jamal's slumber this time. The dull noise was startling enough to drown any sleepiness in adrenaline. Jamal looked up and found the bed next to him empty. Nikita was nowhere to be seen. Anxiously, Jamal raised himself – and discovered Nikita lying behind the bed. So the source of the mysterious sound had been Nikita's body hitting the floor.

Jamal jumped out of bed and helped Nikita into a sitting position.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The words sounded way more accusatory than Jamal had intended. Nikita looked up with a frown.

"How does it look like to you?" As Jamal didn't answer, Nikita pursed his lips. "I wanted to go the bathroom because what else would I do right now?"

"Have you noticed the bucket right next to your bed? You should have, you've used it before."

"Oh come on, do I really have to explain?" Nikita attempted to get up on his own, but he lacked the strength in his legs. There was a feverish gleam in his eyes.

"You should have still woken me up", Jamal sighed, put both arms around Nikita and lifted him up.

"I don't need you to wipe my ass", Nikita grumbled and tried not to lean on Jamal too heavily.

"Trust me, you need a whole lot more than that if you don't even make it to the toilet." Just to be safe, Jamal grabbed the trash bin with his free hand. "Why are you so stubborn?"

"I'm not." Nikita turned his head to the side, but Jamal still noticed a tinge of red on his cheeks. It stood out against his pallid face. Maybe he was actually way more embarrassed than sulky. Didn't change the fact that he was an idiot.

Jamal put his arm around Nikita's upper body to support him if he should stumble again. After a few steps, Nikita gave up his futile resistance and sank against Jamal. By the time they entered the bathroom, he was bent double, holding his stomach and moving along with a weird shuffle. He probably had to clutch his butt cheeks tightly to prevent an accident. Still, he tried to push Jamal away as they entered the toilet room.

"You wait outside. No discussion." As urgent as matters were, Nikita didn't move a single inch further.

"Hey, I'm not gonna judge you." Jamal's voice was much softer than before. "And I really don't want you to go through this alone."

"No way", Nikita groaned and snatched the bucket from Jamal's hand.

"Fine. But don't lock the door, I need to get to you if you pass out or something." With a deep sigh, Jamal closed the door behind Nikita and leaned against one of the sinks. Of course, Nikita had a right to privacy. Maybe he had pushed him too much. He just wished Nikita would understand that there was no need to be ashamed. He was sick, he couldn't help it. If he felt better once he had relieved himself, it was all that mattered.

Through the closed door, Jamal heard Nikita moan, followed by a splatter. A retch, then even more splatter. Jamal winced in sympathy. Good thing Nikita had a receptacle on both ends. Judging from the sounds, he emptied himself quite forcefully in either direction. The groans and gags and sighs he produced left no doubt that he was in pain. Jamal wanted to hug him and hold up the bin for him and rub his back or his stomach, but he knew his presence would only make things worse for Nikita. He had to loosen up and let everything flow out of him freely, which he wouldn't do while someone was watching him.

After what seemed like forever, Jamal heard the toilet flush. There was the patter of liquid hitting liquid, then a second flush. Unsteady steps approached the door and finally, it was pushed open. Nikita's face had turned green, lips slightly parted, legs trembling. He didn't seem to notice that there was still viscid vomit dripping from his chin.

"Come here, Nik." Jamal pulled the shivering blonde into a close embrace, even if it meant to get some puke on his chest. Jamal had cursed Nikita's thick skull not too long ago, but he couldn't be mad at him. The poor guy felt horribly sick and it hurt to see him suffer like this. Jamal stroked back Nikita's hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. He didn't even think twice about it. "You're doing great. Now let's get you cleaned up and back to bed."

With the smallest of steps, Jamal guided Nikita to one of the basins and washed his face. Then he made sure to wipe off the stains from his own skin. Even though Nikita had apparently emptied the bucket into the toilet, the trash bag was still blotted with sick, so Jamal discarded it. He pulled Nikita closer to hold him upright before they slowly made their way back to Nikita's room. It worried Jamal how quiet his friend had become. Suddenly, he almost wished for some snarky remark.

It was the same procedure as before – Jamal tucked Nikita in and put a new bag in the bin. Then he crawled under the covers and hugged Nikita from behind.

"Is it a little better?", he asked, hoping for at least some kind of answer. "Think you can sleep?"

Nikita nodded and moved even closer. A faint smile flitted across Jamal's face. He waited for Nikita's breath to slow down until he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off as well.

Pale morning light seeped in through the fogged up window as Jamal was alarmed by a sudden motion. He blinked in confusion, still drowsy, and saw Nikita bending over his side of the bed. A silent curse left Jamal's lips, then he scrambled to his knees. He put a hand on Nikita's forehead to get his hair out of the way and keep him over the bucket. With the other hand, he began to rub his heaving back.

The spasmodic convulsions of his muscles forces long, agonized retches out of Nikita. They sounded harsh enough to chafe his throat sore. Eventually, the empty gagging turned wet, then productive. Beige vomit burbled from Nikita's mouth and landed in the trash bin with a wet, thick plop.

"Yeah, that's it, you're a pro by now." Jamal continued with the back rubs, feeling Nikita's muscles tense and jerk under his fingers. It was a good thing he was holding up the blonde's head, considering how heavy it rested on his hand. Nikita had puked up his guts and he still couldn't stop, no wonder he was at the end of his rope. "It's okay, Nik, get it all out. I won't let you fall, you can let yourself go and just vomit it up."

Nikita sank into Jamal's grip. To make sure he stayed in place and got his cramping abdomen away from the mattress, Jamal put his other arm around Nikita and supported him at the chest. Nikita's eyes were barely open as he spewed murky liquid and soggy globs. It wasn't much that came up, but it was honestly astounding that he had left anything inside of him he could eat backwards. The gags turned into coughs until Nikita choked up some finely shredded pieces of what might have been carrots. The next retches squeezed nothing but measly spatters of bile out of Nikita's wrung out stomach. Finally, the heaves turned into pants.

Careful not to put pressure on his belly, Jamal pulled Nikita back on the mattress. The blonde looked so drained that Jamal expected him to instantly fall asleep again, but Nikita rolled over and buried his face against Jamal's shoulder. Jamal held him tight and let his fingers run through the fine blond hair.

"Shhh, I'm here, I won't leave you alone", he soothed Nikita. "You'll be better soon, you'll be okay, this will be over before you know it."

Nikita didn't say a word, he just clung to Jamal like he was his lifeline. His back hitched with convulsive gasps, but he didn't make a sound, so Jamal wasn't sure if he was crying. Jamal cradled Nikita ever so softly, stroking his back and his head until his friend relaxed in his arms. This time, Jamal didn't turn him around. So what if Nikita threw up on his neck, there was no way he would let him go right now. Cuddled up snuggly, they finally slept without a rude awakening.

It was almost noon when Jamal woke up again. He lay still and kept Nikita in an embrace until the blonde began to move. Bleary eyed, Nikita looked up and broke into a yawn. He still had an ashen complexion and cracked lips, but the expression of constant nausea had turned into exhaustion.

"Is it just me or are you looking a little more alive?", Jamal smiled and brushed Nikita's cheek.

"It's been worse." Nikita shrugged, then wrinkled his nose. "The bucket's still filled, isn't it?"

"Yup, filled and fermented for a couple of hours. I'll get rid of it."

With a slight reluctance, Jamal left the bed and disposed of the congealed mass of puke. He put in a new trashbag and made fresh tea. Nikita actually managed to drink half of the cup and keep it down, which was definitely an improvement. Jamal sat down next to him, leaning back against the wall behind the headrest.

"You better stay in bed today", he said with a glance at Nikita. "It's been a lot for you."

"Yeah… I guess." The blonde looked tired enough to fall asleep again in an instant.

"No objections? That's unusua-aaaahhhhhhhhhrrrrrlllll." Interrupted mid-sentence, Jamal projectile vomited all over the blanket and his bare chest. Nikita stared at him, wide-eyed. Jamal was completely flabbergasted himself. There had been no warning – no nausea, no buildup, no drooling or retching. The sludgy brown flood had just shot out of him with a sudden explosion. Quick-witted in spite of his shock, Nikita grabbed the bucket and pushed it under Jamal's face. Utterly confused, Jamal didn't understand why Nikita would do such a thing until another massive gush of puke spurted out of his mouth, filling up a quarter of the bin in one fell swoop.

A hand stroked up and down Jamal's back as he gurgled up a chunky stew that barely resembled the beef stir fry he had eaten for lunch the day before. As his retches became harder, shaking Jamal's body with abrupt jolts, he worked up a thicker mash of rice, meat shreds and bits of broccoli that slipped over his tongue and plunged into the vomit lake below him. Some of them drowned instantly, some stayed on the surface, covered in a glistening sheen. Just seconds later, Jamal's stomach churned again and pushed up more of the lumpy gloop. Several more gags followed, but they remained unproductive.

"I didn't think it would happen so quickly", Nikita sighed and wiped Jamal's face with one of the paper tissues from the box that was still placed on the nightstand. Groaning, Jamal lifted his head.

"Don't say it", he croaked, throat sore from the forceful expulsion of his stomach contents.

"I…"

"Nik, no."

"…told you so." Nikita put the dangerously full bucket away and went on to clean the puke from Jamal's chest. "And I'm glad you didn't listen."

"I might change my mind in the next few hours, but so am I." Jamal forced a strained smile. "By the way, sorry for barfing all over your bed."

"I guess that's fair when you caught it from me. And you got most of it on the covers, so it's easier to clean up."

"But you're still sick!"

"Yeah, but I'm much better already, so stop worrying." Nikita stroked over Jamal's head. "You know what? I'll get rid of the mess and then we switch to your room and get cozy. Agreed?"

"Mhm", Jamal muttered and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how much time he head until the next wave, not even on which end it would come out. It would be a long day after a long night and Jamal dreaded what lay ahead. But for some reason, he was still happy. Maybe he had been the bigger idiot all along.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Archive of our own: Up all night to get Bucky

tumblr: birdnamedenza

#submission #tw vomit #tw emeto #tw scat #nov(emeto)ber 2022 #novemetober 2022 #2022 day31 #prompt: 5 + 1 #fandom: original characters #birdnamedenza #i am /so/ sorry for posting this so late #i missed the notification on this or i would've posted sooner TT_TT #anyway this is one of my favorite fics ever #i will be rereading it regularly :D #nikita and jamal are so adorable together <3

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