#so that other prompt will be answered without the ask oops

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 14th: Roomates | Come As You Are - Nirvana | Impulsive a/n: oops, this got smutty. (lex writing smut without 50k words first? what?!) steddie, bathtubs, handjobs, getting together, they're so in love it makes me sick <333 read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

Eddie’s body aches. 

Not just today, not just because it’s rainy and damp. He hasn’t hurt himself recently, and he’s not recovering from a stage-diving related injury. His body aches because some days, it just does. 

No one leaves the Upside Down unscathed, least of all Eddie. Months of beeping machines and hourly checks in the intensive care unit turned into less frequent interruptions in the main floor. Slowly, this turned into home care at Wayne’s new trailer and, eventually, moving into a small apartment with quite possibly the most consistent surprise since that week from Hell began: Steve Harrington. 

It’s been strange, having Steve around so much. They work as roommates, knowing one another as well as they do. They’re never in the other’s way, maybe because they’re rarely ever apart when they’re in the apartment anyways. Besides, Eddie’s never hated the guy, just what he once stood for and maybe some of the company he’d kept but they’d never been friends either. Eddie’s not even sure if they’re friends now, truthfully. Most of his friendships have come about based on shared interests, not trauma or monsters. 

And definitely not shared baths. 

Eddie’s body aches, so Steve does what he’s done since he started helping Wayne care for Eddie in the earliest days of his recovery. He draws him a bath, and sits with him in lavender-scented warm water. Eddie hisses as his skin adjusts to the water, some wounds and scars still sensitive to temperature, as he sits in the space that’s been carved out for him over the past year between Steve’s legs, his back against Steve’s chest and his legs straight out in front of them. 

As his body acclimates and his muscles begin to relax, his head tips back to rest against Steve’s shoulder. It’d all started innocently enough, with Steve helping Eddie bathe in the earliest days of his recovery. But day by day, bath by bath, Eddie loses another layer of clothing, and then another layer of shame, until all that’s left is raw vulnerability in the comfort of Steve’s embrace. 

He’s not sure if they’re friends because as Steve carefully shampoos and rinses his hair, pours warm water over his shoulders, and massages the tightness in his neck, Eddie thinks they could be more. After all, he can count on one hand the number of friends whose cocks have been this close to his ass. On one finger, really. It’s just Steve. 

Eddie’s body aches, and for long moments, he sits with the silence that’s become comfortable between them as he thinks. His body aches for more Steve, for his hands to drift into the very few places they’ve yet to explore—

“Steve, at what point does this become uh, not platonic?” 

The words are supposed to stay in his head. The question is supposed to be a hypothetical one to himself that he never gets an answer to because he’ll never ask. His impulsive mouth gets the better of him. 

Steve doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t release the luxurious pressure of his thumbs into the knot he’s discovered between Eddie’s shoulder blades. Instead, Eddie feels his chest rumble with soft laughter before he responds.

“At what point did I say that it was?” 

“Well, we never said it wasn’t. Guess I assumed.” Eddie shivers and tilts his head to the right as Steve sweeps his hair to the left and presses his lips to the side of his exposed neck.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Ed, but I don’t make a habit of sitting dick-out with my friends in bathtubs. That’s just for you.” His lips trail from neck to shoulder to collarbone as his hand glides from where it rests on his stomach lower, lower, lower. 

“Steve…” Eddie whispers, hips moving on their own accord. 

“Can I touch you? I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long.” 

“Please, yes, please.” Eddie’s nearly embarrassed by the sound that escapes him, something akin to a whimper, something desperate. Nearly. 

He’s too far gone already to actually care because Steve wraps a hand carefully around Eddie’s hardening cock and glides slowly from root to tip, exploratory. Eddie’s surrounded by Steve and water and both make him feel weightless. 

This isn't going to last long, he knows.

Up and down, up and down, as Eddie falls deeper and deeper into a trance, nothing but their quickening breaths and the undulating, sloshing of the water around them. Steve sucks a few small bruises into his skin on top of his shoulder before working up and gently nipping at Eddie’s ear. 

“How’s it feel, baby? Feel good?” Steve whispers, hot and wet right into his ear. 

“So fucking good, should’ve said something so much earlier, Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans, letting one of his arms float up and tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. 

“Mmm, yeah, should’ve. I should’ve made it more obvious too though, how fucking bad I’ve wanted you. So long, Ed, so long.” 

Eddie’s hips roll up and Steve wraps his free arm around Eddie’s torso, holding him close, safe. “I’m close, Steve, God, don’t stop, please.”

Steve's lips graze his ear as he keeps going. “I’ve got you, Eddie. I’ve always got you. Go ahead, come for me, baby. Let me see.” 

There’s something in the way Steve says always that sounds like a promise, an oath, and it knocks Eddie over the edge. He comes with a silent shout, his head dropping back to Steve’s shoulder as he feels rope after rope coat Steve’s hand and be swept away into the water. 

His ears ring and his vision goes white, the only outside stimulus that breaks through is the feeling of Steve's hands on him and Steve's voice. Distantly, Eddie registers Steve praising him, talking him through his orgasm, telling him how beautiful he is. Eventually, his body goes limp and Steve swaps arms, using his clean hand to turn Eddie’s face by the chin. He captures Steve’s lips against his own, an awkward angle for a first kiss, and it’s not lost on Eddie that Steve’s now had his dick in his hand before they’d even kissed. 

They’ve never done anything traditionally anyways. 

“Eddie?” Steve starts, breaking the kiss and looking at him with glassy eyes and a crooked grin. 

“Yeah?” Eddie returns the smile.

Steve pushes a piece of wet, curly hair out of Eddie's face. “I meant it, what I said. I’ve always got you, for as long as you want me to.” 

Eddie’s body aches with a truth that he’s known for at least a year, one that he wants to say aloud. One that he hopes Steve feels, too. 

But tonight’s been a night of confessions already, and Eddie can’t help but feel that tonight is just the beginning, the beginning of many more nights with plenty of opportunities for declarations and commitments. 

“Careful with those promises, Stevie. That might be a really long fucking time.” 

Steve hums and kisses him again, soft and slow, one hand in his hair. 

“Good.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month #eddie month prompts #eddiemonthafterdark

[neteyamsoare]

Kiss Me.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Human! Neteyam Sully x Fem! Human! Reader | Past Ao’nung x Fem! Human! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Anonymous Request. I CAME AS QUICK AS I COULD 17 FOR NETEYAM PLEASE + Oops! Sorry abt that!  I was hoping for #17 - "quick, kiss me"  in fluff if you don't mind 🙇‍♀️

༉‧₊˚. Summary. In order to get away from your ex, you make an impulsive decision that will change the course of your and Neteyam’s friendship.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Modern Au, fluff, and slight angst.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Aged up! Neteyam & Ao'nung, toxic ex (sorry Ao’nung you were just good for the job), anger, cursing, and mention of cheating.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 1,1k.

༉‧₊˚. Notes. I was not expecting this prompt to go so long. I thought it was going to be a drabble but it is now a one-shot but hey it’s the first prompt I’m posting for my sleepover! I hope y’all like it. | If you want to send to request another prompt, you always can — you can find the link to the sleepover event down below.

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

*RING RING*

You stir in your sleep as you try to block out the annoying sound that was ruining the sleep that you rightfully earned after staying up late studying. Finally, the ringing stops letting you relax but as soon as you get used to the quiet, the ringing starts back up making you groan as you open your eyes slowly. 

You pick up your phone from the dresser that is close to your bed and see that Kiri, your best friend, is calling. You let out another sleepy groan as you accept the call and put it to your ears. “Hello?” You say with a soft voice fighting the sleep that threatens to bring you back to sleep. 

“Finally, you answer your fucking phone!” Kiri yelled into the phone making you jump up, you were woken now. “I’m sorry, I happen to love my sleep.” You sit up properly rubbing your eyes softly. You put her on speaker as you checked your notifications and saw 8 messages from Kiri and 2 from Neteyam. 

“What’s going on?” You asked as you went to read Neteyam’s message, remembering you had promised him that you were going to watch his practice. You get up off the bed and pick up your phone as you head to the bathroom to start getting ready. “Ao’nung is here on campus looking around for you,” you immediately stop what you’re doing and pick up the phone, taking it off speakerphone and putting it to your ear. “I know you fucking lying!” 

“Girl, why would I lie? I know his musty ass from anywhere,” Shit, why now? This is all you can think about as you get yourself ready. “What does he want from me? We broke up a month ago, I blocked him and haven’t spoken to him since so why is he tryna show up now?” You let out a breath as you roll your eyes. 

“He realized that he lost the best thing he could ever have in his life,” you sigh. “He just needs to leave me alone. Girl, I’ll see you on campus, I have to meet your brother at his practice.” You hear a laugh on her end. “You mean your other half,” she says while giggling as you roll your eyes and a smile appears on your face. “Shut up,” you laugh as you both say your goodbyes and you hang up. 

You put your phone down on the bed and take a deep breath. “Eywa, please don’t let me run into this asshole.” you silently prayed hoping the odds are in your favor. 

You finally arrive on the field that held Neteyam’s practice wearing some jeans, your favorite converse, and your favorite black hoodie which was originally Neteyams but he knew he wasn’t getting it back once he gave it to you. 

So far luck was on your side, Ao’nung was nowhere in sight, only hoping it’ll stay that way. He laid his bed that night he decided to get his dick wet with some girl he had just met. He threw away the chance of having you as his ‘forever’ as he used to tell you. It's crazy how a person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with can hurt you so much without even caring about how you would feel.

You were so far in your mind that you didn’t even hear your name being called til the person got a hold of your waist turning you around to face them. “You made it,” Neteyam smiled down at you and a smile appeared on your face as you quickly got your mind off Ao’nung. “Of course, I did promise you that I’d make an appearance.” you rest your hand on his bicep rubbing it softly as he looks down at the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“Oh so that’s where my favorite hoodie went,” he smirks as you let out a smirk of your own. “It’s my favorite hoodie now, you would have to cut it off me to have it back,” you let out a giggle as he just smiled. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me anyway,” he says as you make eye contact with him smiling so hard, Neteyam was always so nice to you ever since you met, especially after the breakup, he made sure that you took care of yourself, talked to you when you needed it, let you vent your frustrations, hell he even took a yoga class for you. 

You lost eye contact with him for a second when you saw Ao’nung glaring at the two of you, eyeing the way your hand was rubbing on Neteyam’s bicep. Your heart immediately starts racing, “Please eywa, let that not be him and I’m just seeing things,” you thought to yourself but when you looked back at him, he was for sure real because he was making his way over here sending you in a whole panic not wanting to deal with him at all. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Neteyam asks worriedly as he takes in your panic state. You didn’t know what to do, looking back to where Ao’nung was, he was getting closer and closer and a rushed idea came up in your head. “Kiss me!” you blurt out as Neteyam goes into shock not expecting that to come out of your mouth. “Wha-” he starts to ask but you cut him off by placing your lips onto his, moving your hands to his waist as you pull him closer to you. 

Neteyam couldn’t believe this was happening, he thought that this could be a dream but as you squeezed his waist tighter, he smiled into the kiss bringing a hand to cup your cheek and his other hand placed on your waist. You honestly almost forgot the reason why you abruptly kissed him just on how good of a kisser Neteyam was, he easily took the lead from you and you wrapped your arms around his neck and as you do, you open an eye taking a glance at Ao’nung’s angry stance seeing if he’d still make his way to where both of you were standing but he turns around and storms off which makes you smile continuing the kiss.

You didn’t even know why you were still kissing Neteyam since the intention was to get rid of Ao’nung but you knew you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it. Finally, you slowly pull away from each other still in each other’s embrace just staring into each other’s eyes, both knowing that this little kiss will change the course of your friendship. “When were you going to tell me that you were such a good kisser?” You ask as he laughs while bringing you closer to him as you lay your head on his chest hiding the big smile you couldn’t stop.

🔖 @livelaughloak @jakesully-sbabygirl @kenzi-woycehoski @fanboyluvr @onlytays @amart-e @vxncxntt @blep24 @blackheart-stuff @almondmilk8 @azaleaniath @love-chx @uniltsatirey @23victoria @saeayanaa @aash3 @canaomfa @0littlelucy0 @dilftopia69 @itszmedawn

© neteyamsoare 2023. | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

#ಣ : sylaphone #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x female reader #atwow x reader #atwow x you #atwow x y/n #james cameron avatar #atwow neteyam #neteyam oneshot #atwow fanfiction #atwow oneshot #atwow modern au #neteyam fluff #atwow fluff #atwow ao'nung #avatar the way of water #neteyam x f!reader

[twisted-tales-of-all]

My Universe Returns to Me

Summary: Missing your boyfriend, you surprise him by watching the final concert of his group's tour, followed by a wonderful night together for the first time in months. Pairing: Stray Kids' Bangchan x afab!Reader Genre: Smutty One-shot with loads of fluff AUs/Tropes: idol!AU, established relationship, temporary-ldr, first meeting after a while Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: description-heavy, slight tinge of jealousy, occasional teasing, body worship (f. receiving), praise, unprotected sex, slight begging, orgasm (m. and f. receiving), breast fondling/nipple play, creampie, slight overstim during aftercare, it's pretty fluffy sex because Chris is a so deeply in love A/N: a drabble request turned into a full piece oops, I still italicized the prompts like the drabbles. Special thanks to the spirit who came to help me write this (they want to stay anon), and I hope everyone enjoys! As always, feel free to point out any missed warnings, and please reblog with feedback/reactions<3

It'd been far too long since you'd last met your boyfriend since they're currently on tour, so you decide to surprise him at the last concert. Sitting in the company-designated seats towards the back of the crowd, you take a picture of the stage and send it to him while they're doing soundcheck. When they head backstage again, you get a slew of messages in response, some just keyboard smashes and others excitedly asking whether he'd be able to see you later. Finally, he pouts about having to put his phone away and wishes for you to enjoy the show.

You choose not to answer most of his messages, simply telling him to have fun and that you can't wait to see him. The concert goes as smoothly as any last stop does, with plenty of tears and sappy moments sprinkled amongst the singing, dancing, and rehearsed skits. You take plenty of pictures of the screens that project the members to their fans, especially when your boyfriend is plastered on screen for all to see. After the concert ends, the VIP event begins. You watch all the lucky VIPs line up for their high fives and quick chats with the members, but you know better than to join that line - even if the company tickets come with the option to. The boys would all be too excited to see you, and you're not trying to get jumped by hundreds of fans for befriending the group. You walk out of the venue and make your way to the hotel, silently thanking Felix for telling you where they were staying so you could get a room in the same hotel.

Lounging in your room for an hour or so, your mind wanders to the VIP event. A pang in your chest alerts you of your slight jealousy of the fans who see your boyfriend before you, but you shove the thought away by remembering Chris' words from the last time you felt undeserving of him.

"No matter how well I treat the fans, I'm always thinking of you, y'know. You never leave my mind, and even all the stars are by your side. You're perfect in my eyes, and I'm always going to be by your side."

Taking yourself out of your head, you hear your phone ring. Answering without even checking the name, you don't get a word out before the chaos erupts from the other end.

"Where are youuuu? I want to see you and hug you and kiss you and hold you already." Chris whines, making you smile but roll your eyes.

The disgusted screams in the background prompt you to ask him whether they've returned to the hotel yet, but Felix's screams answer before Chris can, "Tell 'im to wait until he's alone to do this! We don't wanna hear him gush!"

Despite his pouts, you tell your boyfriend to call you back when he reaches the hotel, knowing he'll call the moment the van pulls up to the building. When you get the call, you give him the room number and tell him that he can come straight up if he wants or wait until he washes up. Within minutes, you hear someone knock on your door. He has a bag with his change of clothes and insists that it's easier to wash up in your room instead of waiting his turn for the showers in their four rooms. You roll your eyes, but he hugs you so tightly the moment the door closes that you can't help but smile. When the boys say he's whipped for you, these moments prove that for you.

After the initial hellos, filled with long hugs and dozens of kisses of varying intensities, he asks how you enjoyed the concert. His eyes fill with worry and anticipation, but they soften again as you tell him about all of the new pictures you have to tease everyone with. At the end of your ramble, you mention the event and pout about how he's STAY's boyfriend. He tilts his head as his face twists into a sad apologetic gaze, so you finish with a half-joke.

"Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

He cups your cheeks as he teases you for being possessive, "Awh, my love feels like they aren't getting enough attention? Is that why you came all this way? You missed me that much?"

Even though he's eating it up, you point out that he's even more possessive, "You'd miss me just as bad if you didn't beg me for pictures every single day!"

"Shh, don't worry, I'll take very good care of you. You came all this way, after all."He deflects, turning on his deeper, more sultry voice as he leans in to kiss you again, trying to distract you from the topic of his own neediness.

The kiss holds more longing than those from earlier, as it's somehow softer but more sexually charged than before. Deepening the kiss, Chris puts a hand on the small of your back, guiding you to lean back and lie flat on the bed. As he holds himself above you, he relishes the moment - you're finally here with him after months of being apart for the tour, your lips soft and your hands safely resting on the back of his neck. You were right, after all; he'd lose his mind if he wasn't getting your daily selfies and updates. It showed in his movements now, as he melted into you, verifying to himself that it's not too good to be true - that the love of his life was in his grasp again.

He pulls away slightly, brushing a stray hair from your beautiful face as he gazes at you with love-filled eyes, getting himself lost in the sparkles in your eyes, shining as brightly as the stars in the night sky.

"Chris, stop staring at me. I'm getting shy."

"But you're so beautiful, I want to admire you some more." The distant smile on his face tells you more than his words do; how happy he must be and how unreal it must feel.

"It's not a dream. I can't lie here for you to stare at forever."

Taking that as his cue, he starts kissing your body, worshipping your very existence. Careful not to move your clothes much yet, he takes his time to kiss every knuckle on your hands and each mole on your exposed skin. You squirm, giving him another sign to move forward, and he obliges by slowly sliding his hands under your shirt. He hooks his thumbs under the hem as he glides his hands up your torso, leaving goosebumps from how softly he touches you. As he reaches your chest, his fingers graze over the lacy fabric of your bra, and you notice his jaw tighten as he resists the urge to pull your shirt off faster. Already committed to his worshipping today, he resists where he otherwise wouldn't.

Fully removing your shirt, his fingers gloss over your shoulders and make their way to your beautifully decorated breasts. Tracing the edges of the fabric, he muses about how beautiful you look in between kisses to your collarbones and upper chest. Careful not to focus on your breasts too much, he lowers himself, leaving a trail of soft kisses from the bottom of the bra down to the hem of your pants. He isn't as slow removing your pants, undoing them and pulling them down quickly to see you in your adorably delectable matching set. A deep growl forms in the back of his throat, prompting praise after praise of how wonderful you look and how glad he is knowing that you're all his.

Your face and core heat up even more at the praises thrown at your exposed body despite him praising you endlessly throughout the relationship. No matter what he says nor however many times he says similar things, they always feel so deeply genuine that you can't help the knot in your stomach or the blush forming on your face. As he lowers his face between your thighs, the knot in your stomach tightens. Alternating his kisses between your thighs, you continuously feel his warm breath, especially when he hovers over your covered entrance to admire the soaked-through fabric.

Getting desperate for him to touch the places he's actively avoiding, you whine, "Chris, please. I need you. Stop teasing."

Although he insists that he wasn't teasing, your begs kick him enough to stop fighting his urges. Quickly removing his clothes, you notice his cock throbbing already. Not one to waste time teasing himself, he quickly works to pull your panties down, groaning as a string of your wetness follows the movement. Too tempted by seeing you exposed to him like this, he doesn't bother to remove your bra. As he settles between your legs, you quickly remove it yourself, letting your breasts free of the cage you chose to show them off to your boyfriend in.

Before lining himself up, he drags two of his fingers between your lower lips, gathering up your pre-cum. Rubbing it on the tip of his dick, he counts that as enough lube as he's too eager to feel your walls engulf him to do more preparation. As he lines himself, he looks to you for approval, sliding in slowly after your nod.

The noise leaving his lips as he bottoms out sounds heavenly and feral mixed perfectly together. And you can't even blame him; he feels so good inside you, filling you up perfectly with his thickness pressing against your walls and fighting against your tightness. He pulls back slowly until he's only half inside before thrusting in again sharply. You love it when he does this, feeling like he's trying to connect the two of you together so eagerly, wanting to feel you always.

He picks up the pace, rocking his hips to continue hitting your best spots. You try to cover your mouth to muffle the inhuman noises he's pushing out of you, but when he lifts your legs over his shoulders, you can't contain yourself anymore. The sly one-sided smile painting his face tells you that he's enjoying himself, earning those kinds of sounds from you.

Between thrusts, he teases, "You, you missed me, a lot, huh?"

Moving one hand from your hips to your breast, he cups it to display your nipple to him. Keeping pace, he leans forward and takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently. As you tighten from the sensation, he groans against you, sending vibrating chills from your perky nipple to the rest of your body. All of the combined sensations work you up, and you feel your orgasm building as he continues thrusting deep inside you.

"Don't stop... Please, I'm close." You warn him.

He focuses on his thrusts, keeping a steady rhythm as he feels you clenching tighter around him again. A deep, guttural moan against your breast brings you over the edge, your orgasm rippling through your whole body as you shake and moan uncontrollably. Riding it out, Chris lifts his head to watch your face contort from the pleasure, praising you for not hiding yourself this time.

"There you go, my love. Feel it out. Let everything out. Good job."

When you come down from your high, you notice his thrusts getting sloppy. With both hands back on your hips, his grip tightens as he nears his own climax. As his grunts become more animalistic, he finishes inside you with one final deep thrust. The warm liquid fills you as his fingertips dig into your skin, only to release seconds later as his high comes to an end.

You watch his face writhe as he slowly pulls out of you. He quickly grabs one of the washcloths from the bathroom, wetting it slightly with warm water, and rubs your opening lightly with it. Wincing from the stimulation, you grab at the sheets. You know he's just trying to clean you off, but you're so sensitive from your orgasm that you can't help your reaction.

"Shh, I know. I'm sorry. I just want to help love." He places the cloth over your throbbing core and adds, "I'll draw you a bath, too. I'll hold you in there so you can rest properly."

Quietly, your voice hoarse from your screams, you call to him as he walks to the bathroom again, "Thank you, Chris. You're the best."

"Only because it's you. I love you, Y/N."

#cultofdionysusnet #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop fluff #stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz smut #skz fluff #bangchan scenarios #bangchan imagines #bangchan smut #bangchan fluff #skz bangchan #chris bang #stray kids bangchan #skz chris #christopher bang #bang chan

[katsu28]

hii!! i love your writing (especially your ted lasso works, although, i am a tad bit biased), and i was wondering if you could do 'orange rose' for the flower prompts with my bby sam obisanya? i've noticed an extreme lack of fics about him, but i absolutely adore him

thank you so much my dear!! sam is such a ray of sunshine and such a criminally underrated character and he deserves so much more love (and i will give it to him)

orange rose: experiencing constant as well as distracting thoughts of the other person, sam obisanya x reader, reader is the team physio (except my medical knowledge is basically nonexistent pls forgive any concussion inaccuracies oops), 1.3k

Sam’s mind was not with him on the pitch today. He’d been distracted during practice before, but never like this. He attributed it to you. It was always you. 

He saw you everyday, sometimes even multiple times a day, always volunteering to pop into the treatment room if one of the boys needed ice or tape. Sometimes he visited you without having an actual reason other than wanting to talk to you for a little bit. You were always a nice change from locker room talk (and you smelled a lot nicer too). 

You plagued his thoughts day in and day out, often distracting him from whatever he was doing because he was too busy thinking about what it would be like to do things with you. Mundane things like making breakfast together. Taking an evening stroll around Richmond. Helping him test out new recipes for Ola's.

There was a rather specific reason why you were the source of his distraction today, though. 

------- 

Sam heard his name echo through the empty car park, looking up from his phone in bewilderment that soon turned to joy when he spotted you jogging towards him.

He slowed his pace to a crawl, giving you time to fall into step with him on the way towards the facility entrance. You looked almost unbearably pretty like you always did. 

“Good morning,” He said cheerfully, smiling brightly at you. “How was your night?” 

“Good! I stayed in, so it was pretty quiet, just the way I like it.” Your arm brushed against his as you moved to let another person squeeze past you, and Sam swore his heart raced double time in his chest. He had to ward off thoughts of spending quiet nights with you before you noticed him acting weird. “Any fun plans tonight after training?” 

“Yes, actually! One of my friends is having their engagement party at Clos Maggiore, near the Royal Opera House. Maybe you know it?” 

“No way! I’ve been dying to try that place, but the waitlist is miles long. I’d probably be geriatric by the time I could get a table.” You sighed, offering him a shrug. A brilliant plan sprung to Sam’s mind at that very moment, and he decided to take the plunge and outright ask you what he wanted to. 

“Would you maybe want to go with me?” He asked, rocking back on his heels nervously. The corners of your mouth turned up into a small, hopeful smile. “As my date.” He added, praying that he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. 

That got a much bigger smile out of you, a beam whose magnitude could quite possibly rival the sun, in his opinion. It was one of Sam’s favorite things about you. 

“I would love to be your date, Sam.” 

“Really?” 

“‘Course. Dunno if you’d noticed, but I like you.” 

Sam’s answer was immediate. “I like you too.” 

He wanted to continue the conversation so badly, but you’d somehow arrived at the locker room without him even noticing. Normally he’d make an attempt to prolong the conversation, offering to walk you to your office, but he could see most of the team already booted up and ready to train. 

“I have to go.” He said, sounding a touch disheartened. You must’ve noticed, because you snaked your hand into his for a quick second, squeezing fondly before dropping your hand back down to your side. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then. Six o’clock? Don’t be late.” You called, backpedaling down the corridor with another sunshine smile aimed his way. Sam nodded furiously. 

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” 

-------

“Sam! Sam, watch—” 

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts, but not in time to see the ball hurtling right towards his face. 

Had he been paying attention, he would’ve seen the beautiful cross-field pass Jamie had lofted his way upon seeing that he was unmarked. Since he wasn’t, it slammed into the side of his head, sitting him right down on his ass in a sprawl of limbs. 

There was a symphony of shouts and the boys were by his side in an instant, crowding around him nervously as they waited to see if he was okay. Sam sat up slowly, rubbing his temple with a bewildered look aimed at his teammate. 

“You were lookin’ right at me, man, I thought you were open!” Jamie protested, raking his hands through his hair. “Did I break anything??” 

“Yeah bruv, did he crack your skull?” 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Do you remember how much money I owe you?” That one was Jan Maas, and it earned him an elbow to the gut. “What? I don’t want to pay him.”

“Sam! Do me a favor and come over here a sec!” Ted called, beckoning Sam over to the sidelines. “The rest of you boys head on over to Coach Beard for defense drills, chop chop!” 

With another shake of his head, Sam headed over. “Yes, Coach?” 

“First of all, you alright, son? Pretty nasty knock to the noggin you just got.” Ted looked genuinely concerned, but when Sam nodded, his mouth flattened into a rather disappointed line. “Good. Glad you’re okay. Second of all, your head’s further away from this pitch right now than E.T. from his home. Wanna tell me what’s going on, or do I gotta get all stern coach on you and make you tell me?” 

“Sorry Coach, I am just…” Sam trailed off, racking his brain for the right word to describe how he was feeling without having to tell Ted that he was distracted because he was thinking about you. Telling his coach he wasn’t one hundred percent into his training was definitely not a good move. “It’s nothing. I promise I won’t lose focus again. You have my word.” 

Ted tilted his head at the young player, as if contemplating whether or not to force the reason out of it. Eventually, he just shrugged. “Alright, well, why don’t you mosey on over to the treatment room to pay the good doc a visit? See if she can’t fix you up, make you right as rain again.”

Sam nodded, his eagerness to get back onto the pitch (and maybe at the prospect of seeing you again, even for just a little bit) sending him hurrying through the facility quickly. 

The door to the treatment room was ajar when he arrived, but he knocked anyway, poking his head in to scan for you. 

“You just couldn’t wait until after training to see me again, hm?” You sighed, smiling at him warmly from where you were looking over a chart. Sam offered a rather bashful smile and a soft greeting back, boots clicking on the floor as he shuffled into the small room. “Alright, come sit. Tell me what happened.” 

“The ball hit me in the head.” He mumbled, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. You clicked your tongue, fingers pressing against his scalp for any bumps or abnormalities. Your touch and close proximity made him shiver, but he liked to think he kept it under wraps quite well. 

“Do you have any nausea? Dizziness? Trouble remembering things?” Sam shook his head. He enjoyed being doted on by you, even if you were just doing your job. You patted his cheek goodnaturedly. “Well, other than that nice sized bruise where I’m assuming the ball hit you, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion.” 

“Thank god. I would’ve hated to disappoint the team.” 

“Just take this cold pack and ice your head for a while. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off, and repeat. The swelling should go down fairly soon, but I want you to let me know if you start feeling off.” You went to grab a bag of ice and a washcloth to wrap it in as you spoke. Sam’s eyes never left you, even when you came back to place the cold pack in his hand. “Would hate to lose out on Clos Maggiore because you got knocked on the head.” 

He nodded slowly, bringing the ice up to his head. “So you are only using me for my connections, I see.” 

“Pretty obvious, innit?” You winked playfully and getting hit in the head suddenly didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. “Right, well you should get back to the pitch. Tell Ted you’re cleared for training after you ice.” 

“Yes, doctor.” He hesitated a moment, then crossed the room to press a quick kiss to your cheek before he could chicken out. “See you tonight.” 

Had he stayed a second longer, he would’ve seen how big your smile had gotten at the simple action. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#sam obisanya #sam obisanya x reader #sam obisanya x you #sam obisanya x y/n #sam obisanya one shot #sam obisanya fic #sam obisanya fluff #ted lasso tv

[spaceyaceface]

Hey,

Happy birthday!!!

I really love your writing

Since you asked for fic/drabble ideas or things like that, I thought of something like MC being hurt badly and trying to hide it cause they know that Ominis/Sebastian will get mad, but they find out anyway

Have a great day, you're awesome ♡

Oops this turned into a full on oneshot, haha! Thanks for the prompt!!! I had fun writing this and exploring the trio's friendship a little bit more :)

Sebastian Sallow x Reader/MC x Ominis Gaunt (platonic) (Maybe Ominis x MC if you squint)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Injury

Breathing was starting to hurt a lot more than it should. As you walked slowly through the empty halls of Hogwarts, you were forced to take shallow breaths, the pain in your side nearly unbearable.

The rib (or ribs) had to be broken---there was no other explanation for the piercing pain that persisted long after taking your usual Wiggenweld. While the foul tasting potion worked wonders on the minor bumps and bruises, it did nothing for the fractures in your ribcage.

You'd been studying some healing magic--you, Ominis, and Sebastian had started the N.E.W.T. level class for Healing this last year, though Sebastian had taken to it much better than either of you. He was a natural. You were merely passible.

Anyone with common sense would have gone straight to their best friend who they knew could help them, but you didn't have common sense. What you did have was an anxious feeling whenever you though of your two friends chastising you for getting hurt once again. They'd tried to tell you over and over again not to go out to the Highlands alone, but it was a habit that was hard to break. Unfortunately, you ran into a poacher who cast a very powerful Depulso and ruined your night.

As a result, you went with the option that was probably really stupid---heading to the Undercroft to attempt to heal yourself in private.

You'd left your healing textbook there, and you thought about what spell would work best as you struggled to walk through the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower under the Disillusionment charm, hand pressed to your side. Episkey probably wouldn't work, you thought. That one was fine for broken toes or noses, but a whole rib...

Your thoughts trailed off as you opened the door to the Undercroft and heard the voices achoing from inside.

Blast that noisy door. No use turning back now.

You heard Ominis call out your name as you dropped your hand from your side, attempting to stand up straighter. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," you called back, trying not to wince at the effort it took to speak.

"'Bout time you showed up," Sebastian said, grinning at you. He had his wand out, poised at the training dummy the two of you had nicked during sixth year. "We were starting to worry a dragon ate you."

You laughed a bit, forcing down the wince it caused. "No dragons this time, I'm afraid."

Your feet stayed planed firmly in their spot. It would be difficult to walk without showing signs of pain; if you could just stay perfectly still...

"Why the hell are you just standing in the doorway?"

Damn Sebastian and his ability to perceive you.

You braced yourself for half a second and took a step forward, face kept in a perfect mask as the pain pierced you once again. "Just trying to decide if I had the energy to put up with you two tonight."

Ominis frowned from where he was leaning against the wall. "You're breathing weird."

Oh, for Godric's sake--

"I'm not--I just came from the Highlands, it was quite the walk, alright?"

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you. "Are you hurt?"

You clenched your jaw. "No. I'm fine."

But of course he wasn't satisfied with that answer. He could see right through you, and so could Ominis, whose nose scrunched slightly at the obvious lie that left your lips.

Without warning, Sebastian aimed his wand at you, and a basic cast was headed your way in an instant. You moved purely out of instinct, twisting to put up a shield to block it, and crying out at the fire that ran through your nerves at the movement.

You collapsed to your knees, gasping for air as the two Slytherins rushed over to you, talking over one another.

"Sebastian, what did you do? Are you alright, what's happened---"

"They blocked it, don't point the finger at me---"

They were both crouched down, reaching out to you. "I'm fine," you hissed between shallow breaths, trying to push their hands away.

Ominis let out a rueful laugh. "I think we're a little past that, aren't we?" His hand wrapped around your wrist in a gentle but firm grip.

"Where does it hurt?" Sebastian asked.

You scowled down at the floor, stopping your struggles against them. You'd been defeated. "My side," you said softly. "I think I've got a broken rib. Or two."

"And why are you here instead of the hospital wing?" Ominis said, holding your arm steady as you shifted to sit on the floor.

"Because she's suspicious enough of me," you replied. "She already knows I get into trouble outside the castle. Better to not to let her in on how much trouble it is."

"Too much, obviously," Sebastian said, frowning at you. "Were you planning on healing this yourself? You can't even preform the bandaging spell properly."

"I figured I'd get it eventually," you said lamely. Ominis's hand hadn't left your arm, and you found the contact comforting, despite the scowl he had on his face.

Sebastian sighed. "Why didn't you just ask us for help? I should be able to take care of it."

You started to shrug, but stopped halfway through the action when it made you wince.

"And I thought Sebastian was the idiot of the three of us," Ominis said.

"Hey."

"You know I'm right."

Sebastian didn't have a proper retort for that, and instead reached forward, letting his hand hover over near your side. "May I?"

You nodded, not seeing the point in refusing any longer.

His fingers brushed over your ribs, and in just a moment you sucked in a sharp breath, whimpering when that only caused the pain to worsen. "Right here?" he asked. You nodded in confirmation.

Ominis's hand traced down your arm and held your hand as Sebastian pulled out his wand. You squeezed his hand, preparing yourself for the quick pain fixing the bone would cause you. Sebastian muttered the spell, and with a sudden surge of fire in your side, you were healed. You let out a deep breath, making full use of your lungs once more.

Sebastian patted your shoulder as you frowned at the floor. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It wasn't the physical pain I was worried about."

Ominis chuckled. "Ah, yes. You're worried about the psychological damage we'll cause by chastising you, is that it?"

"More or less."

"Then we better get it over with, shouldn't we?" Sebastian said, shifting to sit at your side instead of across from you.

"Or we could avoid it entirely," you said hopefully.

"Not a chance," Sebastian said.

"You haven't left us a choice," Ominis added.

Who would have thought the two of them agreeing on something could be so much more annoying than their bickering?

"Look, we know we can't stop you from going out there," Sebastian said. "You're just as stubborn as I am, which I wish was a complement."

"It's not," Ominis interjected.

"Yes, thank you, Ominis. But we just want to know you're safe when you get back."

Ominis squeezed your hand once more. You hadn't really realized he'd still been holding it. "We worry, you know." His voice was soft.

You sighed. They were right. And you hated it. As much as they might protest, they'd always let you do your thing. They'd always been there for you with the outcome, just like tonight. And you'd repaid them by disregarding their worries and throwing yourself out into danger over and over agin. "I know. I'm sorry. You're... you're right."

Sebastian smirked. "There's that psychological damage."

You laughed quietly. "Yes, it's painful to say it, I assure you. But... I should stop. I will stop." You looked at the both of them, sitting on either side of you. "For you two."

Ominis let out a sigh. "I'll hold you to that, you know."

You smiled. "I know. I'll be needing it."

Sebastian grinned. "Now that you can block without collapsing like a pile of bricks, think I could show you a couple of spells?"

The night went on, and you started to realize how unimportant those trips to the Highlands really were. Why spend any time out there, when you had all you needed right in front of you?

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc x ominis gaunt #platonic #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x mc

[gepardling]

First of all I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WRITING! YOU ARE INCREDIBLE <33 JUST PRAISE. Now! I just wanted to say that I can't stop imagining our dear boy Gepard with a doctor reader. Like he comes back injured and she just takes care of his wounds and he looks up at her with such adoration. I imagine it something like that Spiderman scene with Peter and Gwen?? If you get me, when Peter goes to her and she treats his wounds, they are so close and it's so cute!! So yes something similar happens with our boy Geppie. (still love your writing a lot!)

scars of service w/ gepard.

desc. : okie so I LOVED WRITING THIS OOPS i initially had a slightly diff idea for dis but after reading the whole thing i jus had a "dis piece is complete" moment n i really liked what i had so ! enjoy :) the title is a play on the love language "acts of service" ♥︎ (wc : 1k )

tags / cw : sfw, just fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, mention of injury/blood but nothing graphic described, hurt/comfort (?) perhaps, gepard is a little arrogant man who should be more careful on the frontlines

Unwavering dedication breeds self-sacrifice, and Gepard's unyielding commitment on the frontlines often gave rise to both acts of bravery and the perilous seed of arrogance. He was no stranger to throwing himself at the Fragmentum, fending off waves of monsters in an attempt to break the enemy line so that his soldiers may have an advantage. While Gepard may have had the stamina, he was only human and you knew he was bound to reach his limit eventually.

On this day, the Fragmentum onslaught proved exceptionally harsh. Unending masses of monsters stormed the frontlines, clashing with the silvermane forces in relentless waves. Even Gepard, alongside his fatigued comrades, was starting to tire. After fending off an abnormally large beast, the captain found himself worse for wear. Without the arrival of the rear guard as back-up, he would have collapsed on the spot.

Hearing the door to the clinic slam open was enough to give anyone a fright, and the icy breeze sent a chill down your spine. You were taken aback when you realized it was Captain Gepard in the doorway, once-pristine white uniform now stained with blood and dirt. As your eyes scanned his figure, your heart raced at the state he was in – that the blood on his uniform was in fact his own and not from a soldier he had brought in for first aid. 

Immediately, you rushed to his side, guiding him to the examination table in the corner of the room. Gepard hissed when you pressed against his wounded side, prompting him to sit on the edge of the bed. At this point, neither of you had spoken a word to the other, and frankly you were too afraid to ask. While it is true that you'd often do volunteer work on the frontlines, you'd never expected to see the Captain in such a dire state as he is now.

As you pushed up his uniform coat, the sight of the grievous laceration on his side made you gasp. Removing the upper half of his uniform revealed even more scratches and bruises he had endured. Wordlessly, you retrieved the necessary materials, pulling up a chair next to the bed. “What happened?” you asked after a long period of silence had passed, cleaning the area around the laceration with an antiseptic solution. Gepard breathed deeply when the liquid seeped into his wound, burning the exposed flesh. 

“The Fragmentum,” he finally replied, pointedly avoiding the worried look in your eyes. With steady hands, you continued your ministrations, your gaze fixed on Gepard's injury. The severity of his wounds sent a shiver down your spine, and concern etched itself into your gentle features. The heavy silence clung to the air, amplifying the weight of your unspoken fears. As you carefully applied a sterile dressing to his side, you couldn't help but press for more answers, unable to ignore the nagging worry that gnawed at your heart.

"You’ve never had an injury this bad," you remarked softly, trying to keep your voice steady. "But this... this time it's more than just a skirmish. What happened out there, Gepard?" Gepard's eyes flickered, his gaze fixated on a distant point on the wall. His reluctance to share the details only fueled your determination to unearth the truth. You knew him well enough to recognize his attempts to shield you from unnecessary worry, but this time, you couldn't let him dismiss your concerns so easily.

Leaning closer, you gently grasped his hand, dabbing his bruised knuckles with the cleaning agent and applying a bandage. "Please, Gepard," you implored, your voice laced with genuine care. "Share your burden with me." Finally, his eyes met yours, revealing a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. The familiar strength that radiated from him seemed momentarily diminished, replaced by a quiet vulnerability that tugged at your heart. 

A faint smile played on his lips, a subtle attempt to lighten the mood. “I may have overstayed my welcome, but rest assured, I still seem to be in one piece.” He gently raised his hand to your face, thumb stroking your cheek. Your gaze held a sadness that broke his heart, but your mouth curved into a gentle smile.

"You know I worry about you out there," you whispered, your hand pressing against his on your cheek. "I don't want your duty to be your downfall." You looked away, searching for another wound to focus on, to divert your mind from the dark thoughts.

"It's the fear of losing you that gives me the strength to push past my limits. If I couldn't protect Belobog – to protect you – I wouldn't know what would become of me," he replied, a familiar determination etched into his tone. You fell silent, gently applying a numbing gel to the cut on his arm. It was pointless to argue, but it didn't mean you approved of his reckless behavior.

"I would've stitched you up without anesthetic if I didn't love you, you know?" you quipped, chuckling softly at the thought. Gepard only laughed, leaning in to plant a soft kiss against your lips. It was apologetic, for making you worry about him as much as he did. When he pulled away, you no longer felt sadness. His presence alone calmed your worries.

But as he leaned in for another peck, you found yourself pushing against his chest with your free hand. “Hey,” you breathed, “At least let me finish stitching up this cut…” The needle still grasped tightly between your fingers, you hoped you wouldn't accidentally pull the thread too tight. But maybe, just maybe, it would teach him a lesson to be more careful next time.

After you finished patching up Gepard, a quiet understanding filled the room. As your fingers traced across his scars, a mixture of tenderness and concern enveloped your heart. You had come to accept that this was how things would be, that he would always be drawn to the frontlines, risking his well-being for the greater good. Yet, in that moment, you silently vowed to cherish every precious moment, knowing that your unwavering support would be his guiding light in the darkest of times.

the science nerd in me had 2 tone down the medical references and play up the emotions to 100 hehe ♥︎ but OMGGG dat Spiderman scene was so soft aaaa i hope I managed to capture the vibes...

#gepard x reader #gepard x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #gepard landau #gepard hsr #gepard fluff #♥︎ | milky writes #♥︎ | request

[twstjam]

Sebek fic prompt?? 😳 (+short drabble)

God knows I have so many wips and fic ideas on my to-do already but I saw pretty art of Sebek on twitter so of course I HAD to start thinking of fic ideas for him

This one is actually from a while ago but I like it:

Sebek x Yuu/Reader + Fake Dating Trope fic (featuring platonic besties!Malleyuu) where Sebek needs a date to a wedding/some kinda party and it was SUPPOSED to be a one-time thing until it turns out that Malleus and Yuu are besties. Because Malleus likes Yuu so much he VERY MUCH APPROVES Sebek going out with them so OF COURSE Sebek can't disappoint his beloved master by saying they're not actually together!!

(more under the cut because this got Long oops)

"The... The two of you... are acquainted?!" You raise a quizzical eyebrow at Sebek for his astonished outburst. "...Yeah. We met way back when we were planning renovations for Ramshackle Manor." You turn back towards your horned friend with a teasing but fond smirk. "I was listing out the damages for Crowley when I saw Tsunotarou wandering around." You hadn't thought it was possible, but Sebek's jaw drops further. Your hand pushing his jaw back in place with a click seems to snap him out of whatever silent stunned state he was in, instead being replaced by his usual boisterous demeanor. "Ts—Tsunotarou?!" Whatever complaint he was undoubtedly going to spout out is interrupted by the aforementioned fae. "I was not "wandering" like a lost child," Malleus says in a pouty tone, but his amused smile tells that he's far from upset. "Oh, you're right! You were trespassing," you snicker. "I was perusing the architecture. There is no harm in appreciating fine craftsmanship." "Pardon me for interrupting, my liege, but this human—" Sebek's eyes dart between you and Malleus as he stammers for words. "You know—They call you—?" "It's fine, Sebek," Malleus says with a dismissive wave of his hand and Sebek shuts his mouth. Huh, so he really can work miracles. "I permitted them to call me by that nickname. It's not a matter worth dwelling on. Instead, I am more interested in the topic of your connection with this dear friend of mine." Sebek stiffens up, looking like he's got one of Lilia's little "treats" stuck in his throat. Malleus looks between the two of you with intrigue glittering in his eyes and with how Sebek's always talking so highly of his boss, you'd thought that he'd be preening under the attention. When you turn towards him though, he looks even more asphyxiated. "Your dear friend," he chokes out with a slight questioning lilt after clearing his throat, as if he can't possibly fathom Malleus even seeing you when looking in your direction. "I am quite curious. You mentioned that they're your partner?" Malleus's eyes light up further when Sebek doesn't immediately disprove him and he continues speaking without waiting for a verbal answer. "That is unexpected, but not unwelcomed. Have the two of you known each other long? When did you begin courting each other?" It's your turn to be stunned, blinking cluelessly at the sudden onslaught of questions. "Um—" Sebek cuts in before you manage to blurt anything out. "WE—" He clears his throat and straightens up his spine and shoulders. He recovers his composed demeanor, his lips once again curling up into a confident smile. All of these are things you expect from him, but you're further surprised by him sidling up closer to you and holding your hand. "We became acquainted with each other about a year ago. We did not begin courting until recently." Sebek beams the widest, fakest smile you've ever seen at his boss and you're a little afraid it might actually rip his handsome face apart. Before you can ask him what the hell is going on, Sebek crushes your hand with his much, much bigger one and you have to choke back a yelp. "Isn't that right... Uh—d-dear?" He has to practically spit out the pet name. What the fuck?? "Riiiight. Totally. We're..." You cast one last glance at Sebek's strained, desperate smile and Tsunotarou's eager one to ensure that, despite how bizarre it seems, you haven't wildly misread the situation. "...Courting. Yep. We—I mean—Us. Me and Sebek. D—Dating. Romantically involved."

Yuu thinks this is Very Silly of course and wants to confront Tsunotarou and tell him the truth, but he's just so happy that Sebek is dedicating himself to things other than his guard duties and that his best friend is dating someone so loyal and devoted that Yuu can't bring themself to break the news to him.

So now Sebek and Yuu are involuntarily dating. Yuu (reasonably) thinks that they're just going to keep up the act only in front of Malleus (and also Lilia, Malleus's eyes and ears), but, because Sebek Zigvolt is not one to half-ass things, especially when it concerns his young master, he pulls out all the stops!! He plans dates, buys Yuu the best gifts, schedules times for them to spend together, everything!! This may be a fake relationship, but he'll be damned if he isn't the best fake boyfriend in his master's eyes!

Yuu is of course super surprised but touched by all this. Via all the dates and extra alone time they spend together, they end up finding out so much more about Sebek and end up actually... really liking him. They already liked him of course—they ARE friends after all—but after seeing all these other sides of him, they grow to like like him.

These feelings aren't actually as unrequited as they think, because Sebek also ends up really liking spending so much time with Yuu and being close to them all the time. He realises that he's grown to genuinely really care for them... and this is followed by a crisis where he agonizes over Catching Feelings for an "inferior being" and fearing that these feelings would get in the way of his duties to Malleus (they won't).

Anyways cue the mutual pining shenanigans and Sebek and Yuu running around each other because they don't think the other likes them back until their other friends shove the obvious in their faces that they're both lovestruck idiots and to Actually get together already.

#twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #twst yuu #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt x you #sebek zigvolt x yuu #twst #twst au #twisted wonderland au #twst x reader #sebek x reader #sebek x yuu #twst sebek #twst malleus #twst reader insert #matcha nonsense #matcha writes a bit

[colbysluvr]

In the Night — c.b.

A/N: HII i’m new to this whole writing on tumblr shit so.. HII, umm if you wanna give me some requests go ahead, anyways, here’s your first story from me!

prompt: Y/N plays a familiar game of spin the bottle where she then freaks out of the room, but when Colby reaches her distance she accidentally announces to him that she isn’t experienced in any sort of sexual activity, until this nights party. || colby brock x fem!reader ||

warning: smut, pet names, language, oral (receiving), and unprotected sex.

not my gif — https://www.wattpad.com/amp/914202251

—

“Spin the bottle, Y/N,” Katrina demanded you, you hesitated, you were becoming all clammy in your palms, you panicked only because of your long-living crush on the Colby, your best friend. He insisted to sit in the circle once 4 more players had joined Katrina, Tara, and you. Now it was Colby, Sam, Jake, and Kevin who was unexpectedly drunk this evening.

“What?” You asked, shaking out of your thoughts. “Just spin!” She repeated once more.

Your eyes glared onto Colbys, and his beautiful sky blue eyes lied on yours, he spun the bottle for you. “Thank you, Colby, wasn’t expecting to sit here all night long,” Jake joked, he was your best friend, how could you not laugh at Jake.

You held your breath in panic, but exhaled once it landed on the empty space that the 7 of you had created.

“Bullshit! She should spin again!” Kevin shouted.

Tara grinned, she and Jake knew of your secret love interest for Colby, but no one else in the circle knew. You could trust those 2, right?

Tara then broke the silence from the room, “Yeah, that empty space is so boring, we should just let her have another go,”

You gave Tara a death glare with a low growl, “Fine!”

You spun the bottle this time without any hesitation, and just as you thought, it landed straight on Colby, since Tara had stopped it. “Oops, I expected it to land on the empty spot again, my bad!”

Colby just looked at the bottle pointing at himself, then looked at you with his shimmery ocean eyes. “This is awkward though, Colby and I are good friends! I don’t want to play 7 minutes in fucking heaven with him, Im out!” You exclaimed.

It was more out of nervousness than any other thing. But as soon as you exited the theater music began to blast back into your ears again with a bunch of people around, a bunch of drunk people around actually.

You walked straight into the kitchen helping yourself to a cup of alcohol. “Y/N!” The familiar deep voice had you shiver down to your spine, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not feeling it tonight, Colby,” You spun around to talk to him face to face. “I’ve never even kissed someone before!”

You gasp at your mistake, his eyes are completely wide now, “Im so sorry, I’m drunk?”

He nods his head slowly, perking his lips with now crossed arms, swaying side to side, “Do you want me to help you?”

You are now wide eyed by his response, “What? No!”

“Are you sure,” He comes close to your figure now leaning onto the counter blocking your left and right exit, “Are you sure you don’t want help?”

You don’t know how to respond from how flabbergasted you are now, “I-I, I’m sure,”

You push him away slowly, and exit to another room where more party people are, you could hear Colby scoff from the distance even over the loud music.

Even though you could feel the tension between you two, you just don’t know what to say, but once your jealousy hit as soon as you saw him and some girl grinding against each other, you mind just wanted to speak it’s words, so you stomped your way towards the now stupid boy and grabbed his forearm leading him to his bedroom.

With full honesty you answered with a straight ‘yes’ and continued up to his bedroom where you had opened the door, and he teased you even more by pushing it open, pretending as if you need help with the door.

The two of you sat down onto his couch both close together and just sat in silence. Which you broke the silence with a commitment, “Just know this is just a kiss and nothing more, nothing more!”

“Okay, okay, got it,” He leaned in, until you sweetly backed him away, “What?”

“I don’t know if I want you to really take my first kiss, Colby,” You admitted.

“Why? Don’t you like me?” He asked with a slight smirk.

“Wait, what?! Who said that?” You panicked.

He looked around his room and just shrugged. “You have to tell me, Colby!”

“Fine..” He laughed, “It was Tara and somewhat Jake, they said they were planning on getting us alone tonight,”

“Wait, why’d they want us alone tonight?“ You asked with full concern.

“…Because I also may have a crush on you too, Y/N,” He admitted.

“What?” You we’re fully flabbergasted at this point, at no point in time have you ever thought, Colby Brock would have the same exact feelings that you have had for him for 2 years.

He leaned in slowly, and this time you allowed it. You didn’t stop him at any point in time by now, you were fully in this trance of wanting him.

“Please…” You whispered, not knowing you said it out loud.

“Please..?” He mumbled, repeating your words back to you. “Do you want me, Y/N?”

“Please, Colby,” You pled.

He continued to kiss against your lips, harder but sweetly each time. Colby began to lower his kisses down onto your jawline, and you leaned your head resting back onto the couch.

Colby moved though. You opened your eyes to see he was towered over your body now, leaving his hand out for you to grab.

You took his hand, and he had lead you straight to his bed where he had lied you down on sweetly and began to give satisfying kiss down to your chest, he lifted your dress above your head and started to stare at your figure, mesmerized until he began to kiss your lips again.

You had mumbled a couple of moans through the kisses which each time he would groan to. He glided down your figure slowly again, this time coming down to your core.

You opened your eyes to see him hovering over you once again, “Can I be your first, Y/N?” He asked.

You nodded immediately, him being your first was like a dream to you.

“I’ll be gentle,” he admitted for your comforting.

He continued back to what he started and then kissed up back to your jawline where he connected your lips to one another again.

He lifted your body where you were sitting half way up, and disconnected your bra, he slid it off with ease and threw it somewhere down on the floor.

He kissed his way down your stomach once more and down to your core where he than slid off your underwear, again with ease.

“You’re so beautiful,” He complimented with kisses in between. You had moaned with the pleasure of the compliment and also because he was about to go down on you.

Colby started with teasing by licking up your slit slowly, you had gripped the sheets, you couldn’t hold it in, you just wanted him at this point, and you never knew you could want someone as bad as you wanted him, “Please.. Colby, just do it,”

His eyebrow had lifted and he smirked, he rose one leg above his shoulder and began to slowly tease you again by slowly inserting his tongue into you. You moaned when his tongue started to swirl into your clit. You never felt anything like this before and you enjoyed it so much, but your climax had reached very quickly from the pleasure, “I’m.. about.. to..-“

Colby knew exactly what you were about to say, “Shit.. cum on me, Y/N,” his voice had vibrates onto and gave you more of your climax to rise, it felt like your stomach had a bunch , and once you came, he continued by flicking his tongue into your clit faster, reaching your high.

Once Colby licked up the rest of your climax and dropped your leg but made you separate your two thighs, you twitched with the pleasure, he kissed his way back up to your face and smirked, “You’re so pretty when you cum..”

Just like that, the unexpected fulfillment had made you moan, “Fuck,” He swore, “Don’t do that to me, Y/N,”

Colby thrusted inside of you, making you lose you mind and uncontrollably moan, “Shit, you make me so happy,” He kissed you on your lips, and groaned against your moan.

Your legs had wrapped around him like if you had no control whatsoever, your clit had clenched around his dick, “Holy shit, do that again,” and once again you had clenched around him.

“Fuck, Colby!” You moaned out, the same feeling as before had begun, “I’m going.. to cum!”

Just like that he sped up, “Not just yet..”

You were confused, but tried to keep it in as long as you could, he thrusted hard and faster, having both of your bodies smack against each other creates noises, “Colby!” You cried out.

“I know,” His body began to twitch, possibly meaning he was close too, “Cum on me Y/N,”

You listened and came onto him, which created him to cum after, he groaned and slid out of you slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” He lied next to you.

“Thank you, Colby,” You thanked.

He looked at you and sat up on his elbows getting up to grab your underwear and bra he threw, he buckled his jeans belt after helping you get dressed, “Can we just lay down?” You asked.

“Sure,” He replied, and he walked over to the bed which you were already lying down on, and he covered you up with his blankets, “God you’re amazing,”

Which made you giggle, “I love you,” you admitted in confidence.

“I love you too, thank you for this night,” He admitted as well.

#colby brock #sam golbach #sam and colby #xplr #trap house #fanfic #colby brock smut #colby brock imagine

[rainbow-nerdss]

Hi! If you still take soft prompts, I want to suggest 24 and/or 29 (I can't choose hahaha) ❤️❤️

AHH thank you so much! Definitely still taking the prompts, I am ALWAYS down to write some softness (though this one did grow a little angst, oops?)

I fit both prompts in here, so enjoy!

"I just really need a hug" and "pet names"

Eddie was worried—worried about Buck.

Where he’d usually joke around at the end of shift, try to make plans with Eddie—or someone else, if Eddie was busy—he’d been quiet. Withdrawn. Eddie had even reached out, asked if he wanted to come over, but Buck had simply shook his head and walked out alone.

He hadn’t even replied to Eddie’s text asking if he was okay.

Even Chris noticed. He asked Eddie if he’d had a bad day at work, clearly seeing something in his expression.

“It was a hard day. Harder for Buck, I think.”

“How come?”

Eddie hesitated, but Chris was old enough, had been to enough therapy that Eddie was sure he’d be okay to hear an overview. “We had a call at the beach, a kid tangled under a pier. He almost drowned.”

Chris’ expression tightened in understanding. “Do you think I should call him?”

Eddie smiled at his kid’s generosity. He knew Chris had some sort of video call scheduled with some friends, to play a video game tonight. “I think that’s a great idea, bud.”

Eddie was relieved to hear the muffled voices of Chris and Buck through the walls later in the evening, glad to know that while Buck wasn’t talking to him, he had at least answered Chris’s call.

Chris knocked on Eddie’s door a minute or two after the call went silent.

“Come in!”

Chris came in, holding a rock he usually kept on his desk. He sat on Eddie’s bed, passing the rock from one hand to the other. “I just talked to Buck. He said it reminded him of the tsunami.”

“I thought so,” Eddie agreed. “Did you guys talk about it?”

“A little. I think he just wanted to hear my voice, though. We talked about video games, mostly. And rocks? He read an article.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, sounds like Buck. You’re a good kid, you know that?”

Chris scoffed, setting the rock down on Eddie’s nightstand. “Sure, dad. Goodnight.”

“‘Night, bud.”

Eddie lay awake for a long time, thinking about it. They’d saved the kid, and he was doing fine by the time they got him to the hospital, but it was dicey for a minute there, with the tide coming in and the water level rising.

The look on Buck’s face had brought Eddie right back to that day, seeing him in the field hospital with Chris’s glasses around his neck.

When he finally fell asleep, it was fitful, restless. He wasn’t sure how long he managed to sleep before he was being awoken by a sound from somewhere in the house.

Was that Chris, getting out of bed? Eddie blinked in the darkness, listening out. He heard footsteps—not Chris’s usual gait, heavier, more even. Eddie sat up in bed, now on alert through the sleepy fog in his brain.

He reached for something he can use as a weapon, hand landing on Chris’s rock. It would have to do.

He felt his way out of his room, down the hall to the front door, where a dark shadow loomed. Eddie reached for the lightswitch, bracing the rock. He flipped the switch, and started to swing, only to find himself face to face with… Buck?

It was Buck, with red-rimmed eyes, who turned around abruptly just in time for Eddie to connect the rock with his shoulder.

Buck recoiled, yelling, and Eddie was suddenly very glad for his tired body and its inability to put much power into the swing. As it was, the hit didn’t land with too much force.

He dropped the rock.

“Shit, Buck, what—are you okay?”

Buck shook his head, and Eddie was suddenly wide awake, ushering him into the living room, sitting him down to look at his shoulder and make sure he wasn't actually hurt.

“Talk to me, Buck. You came here, in the middle of the night. Why?”

Buck was pliant, moving without resistance where Eddie led him. He took a shaky breath before answering, in broken sentences that Eddie had to piece together.

“I was… I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking—and I remembered what Dr. Copeland was saying in my last session. About—about asking. Asking for things I—I want, things I need. And—and then next thing I knew I was in an uber, and then I was here, and you were throwing a rock at me.”

Eddie, finally assured that Buck was—at least physically—fine, paused in his movements. “You came here to ask for something?”

Buck nodded.

“What is it?”

Buck sniffed, eyes welling with tears Eddie was sure weren’t falling for the first time that night. He shook his head. “I–Eddie, I don’t—”

“Anything, Buck,” Eddie gripped Buck's shoulder. “Anything.” It was honest, maybe too honest for this hour of night, when Buck was in this condition, but Eddie couldn’t help it.

“I just… I just really needed a—a hug.”

Eddie’s heart broke at how Buck was hunched in on himself, as though he thought this might be too much to ask. That he had come here to ask for something so simple, that Eddie had, however accidentally, responded with violence… He couldn’t stand it. He practically fell into Buck, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Buck. Baby, come here.”

Buck melted into the hug, his arms coming up to rest around Eddie’s middle, his face burying in Eddie’s chest.

Eddie held him, feeling his sobs shaking through his body,a wet patch growing on his sleep shirt from Buck's tears. This was more than just a bad shift, more than just a reminder of the tsunami, of that Eddie was sure.

“God, Buck,” he whispered into the top of Buck's head. “Sweetheart, how long has this been building up?”

Finally, Buck's sobs subsided. He tried to sit up, to gather himself together, but Eddie didn't let go. He used his own shirt to wipe Buck's eyes, keeping his other arm around him.

“It's been… a while, I think. We haven't… I don't remember the last time we hugged. I—I didn't realise how much I missed it until… until recently.”

Eddie did remember the last time they hugged. He remembered, because as Buck bounded away, full of joy and life, Eddie had felt his chest swell, realisation washing over him, and he'd shied away from hugs ever since.

He hadn't realised it had been affecting Buck this much.

“I'm so sorry, Buck.”

Buck shrugged, glancing away. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shook his head minutely.

“Talk to me, Buck. What is it?”

“It's silly. I was just… I wanted…”

“It's not silly. Anything you want, remember?”

“Can you… can you call me… those things again?”

If Buck's face wasn't still red from crying, Eddie thought he might have been blushing. “What things?” Eddie asked.

“When I was… you, uh… you called me…”

“Baby,” Eddie whispered, remembering what slipped out in the heat of the moment. and Buck nodded. Eddie felt the way his body trembled at the word. “Buck, sweetheart, I—”

Buck hugged him again, this time pulling him closer than before, practically squeezing him.

“Your turn,” Buck said, voice muffled by Eddie's shoulder.

“My turn? Buck?”

Buck made a sound, and Eddie corrected himself. “Baby, what do you mean?”

“It’s your turn… to ask for what you want.”

Eddie took a shuddering breath, inhaling the lingering smell of the ocean from Buck's hair, only partially masked by the shampoo he kept at the station, the one Eddie always stole when he could get away with it.

“I just want this, baby. I just want you.”

“Really?” Buck relaxed the hug just enough to look Eddie in the eye. Buck's eyes were bright, glistening with fresh tears. The expression wasn't sad and broken, anymore, though—he looked…hopeful?

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed the word, tracing a finger across Buck's cheek, up to his birthmark. “It's okay, if you don't—”

But whatever he'd been about to say, however he was about to let himself down easy was lost, because Buck cut him off with a kiss.

“Eddie, you've got me.”

Eddie reeled Buck back in, kissing him again the way he's wanted to for so long, since the hug that started all of this.

“You said I should ask for what I want too, right?"

"Yeah," Buck reiterated, punctuating with another press of his lips against Eddie's.

"Then come to bed? You sort of woke me up just now."

Send me soft prompts 💙

#my fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[ohmygodshesinsane]

Drop-Off | A Jily Micro-Oops

James Potter takes Lily Evans home, and wants to make something clear.

words: 1941 | for @jilymicro-oops | april prompt 22: ridiculous

sequel to unlicensed

read on ao3 or under the cut

“Hilarious, Potter. Left again.” James made a face and did as she said, playing it off like a laugh, still barely able to believe that she was in his car, in his proximity, breathing the same air as him.

“It’s like a rollercoaster.”

“It should be shut down.”

“Oi.” He jabbed his pinkie finger at the indicator and nudged it up, though the street was deserted. The blinker click-click-clicked, and a cat watched him from the top of a faded brick letterbox, tail flicking.

These roads were unfamiliar. They nestled together only a few blocks from the beach, but they were distinct from the shiny rows of glassy mid-rises, with their acai shops and coastal boutiques tucked beneath sprawling apartments. Sad single-storey brick homes dominated the little suburb of Cokeworth, gutters wonky, red-tile roofs slumping in the blunted sunlight. A leather lounge teetered on the curb, its peeling seats and flaking arms praying for a good home. James’s foot hovered on the brake, idling them along.

“Your joint’s around here?” he asked, frowning. In all his daydreams, he had never imagined Lily Evans living here. None of these places had room for the Beauty-and-the-Beast library her good grades demanded, or a pool for her to lay by in summer’s heights. No old ladies fidgeted, waiting for a reckless do-gooder to escort them across the street. A dog barked through the missing panes of a grey-wood fence.

“Nah,” Evans said, shrugging hard. “Just thought we’d take the scenic route.” She rapped her knuckles on the window. “Entertained?”

James swallowed. Touchy. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, cruising along, squashing down the sinking feeling that her sharp little remarks always wrought. She was just some girl in his class. She wasn’t Lizzie – Lizzie, who would be coming round later to ‘study for Chem’ in the media room, Lizzie who James had just invited to Pete’s birthday, Lizzie from the netball team, Lizzie who he reckoned he might properly ask out soon. Lizzie, not Lily.

Sure, some girl he’d liked when he was thirteen was sitting in the front seat, dark red hair pulled back in the swish of a ponytail, one knee slung over the other at the edge of her regulation black skirt, but it was whatever. She shifted, and her maroon jumper rose with the arch of her back and the stretch of her arms, revealing a swathe of the white cotton blouse beneath. Tiny gold hoop things glinted in her ears, and the light caught the flecks of forest in the emeralds of her gaze –

“Bump!” As Evans shouted, the car hit it, and the car hiked awkwardly over the raised crossing. “Jesus, again. It’s not GTA.”

“GTA’s not allowed in my house,” James answered flippantly. “It’s offensive to women.”

Evans guffawed; in the corner of his vision (because he really was trying to focus on the road now), she folded her arms indignantly, cheeks red. Bugger. Truth be told, he couldn’t say precisely why he had offered up his vaguely-illicit chauffeur service when he’d seen Snape stalk off without her. Evans had working legs – no, James wasn’t going to think about them, moving on – and was capable of walking herself home without that idiot hanging around. His eyes sharpened, raking down the sides of the street, as if the git might materialise. But in any case, it wouldn’t be dark for hours. Evans could have got herself home no worries. The words had just flung out of James’s mouth before he could think, and then he’d nearly keeled over with shock when she’d accepted, and so – here they sat.

Maybe the guilt from lunchtime had crept in. James had copped a week of detentions and a call home, but Lily had been hauled into McGonagall’s office, despite being innocent in the whole matter. She hadn’t destroyed Snape’s project. That fucker deserved it. James’s knuckles whitened around the wheel. Where the hell did he get off, talking to her that way? And now the whole school was muttering about prissy prefect Lily Evans getting a talking-to, and she’d not done a thing wrong – she was the one who had been wronged. His fingers itched for Snape’s throat. Half of James wanted to chuck a u-turn and speed back until he found the sulky little Slytherin, and then he could land one right in the middle of his stupid, petulant, ugly –

“Are you kidding?” Oh, shit. James was doing fifteen over. Not that Evans’s eyes were on the speedo – she grinned at him, mirth sparkling, and his heart somersaulted. “You don’t play GTA because you’re such a feminist?”

James made a rude hand gesture, swerving a little as he looked back at her. He scrambled to correct it.

“I am a feminist,” he said, a little offended. “Mum banned it besides. She goes mental whenever Sirius sticks the girly pictures up. Bad for body image. And what would Lizzy think, if I spent all my time murdering hookers and dealing drugs? In real life, sure, it’s street cred and money, but online that’s just depressing.” That wasn’t an exact summary of why he avoided it, but he wasn’t about to imitate a video essay. He watched too many of those. Really, though, Lara Croft has gone through the wringer! He’d nodded along with the Youtuber’s words while Sirius killed cultists on their Xbox.

Evans’s eyes narrowed. “Next right, and it’s two from the end on the left,” she said off-handedly, gaze still roaming across the planes of his face. He slowed, waiting for a car to pass before he made the turn. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Believe me?” James took the gap and lurched down the cul-de-sac. “I mean it, Evans. Street cred is everything. If I was a loser, I wouldn’t be a Marauder, would I?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are a loser. Nobody who’s actually cool gives themselves such stupid nicknames. It’s not like you’re a band.”

“We’ve considered it.”

“I remember Remus on the clarinet at the ANZAC assembly; please stop considering it.”

The brakes screeched; James stopped halfway down the lane, head whipping around. Evans clapped her hands over her mouth, cheeks flaming.

“Oh my god,” she said, irises as wide as starbursts. “Shit. Oh my god. That was a horrible thing to say.”

Electricity crackled from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers; had Lily Evans really just said that? Laughter burst from his lips, chest aching, stomach spasming as he gasped for air. Perfect prefect Evans thought Remus was shit at clarinet. Of everything today, that was the strangest.

“No,” Evans said, “shut up, don’t laugh – I didn’t mean that –”

“You did, though,” James gasped, eyes swimming with tears. Her red hair swirled into the air like tendrils of smoke, in the blur of his vision.

“It was a mistake,” she insisted. “I meant…”

“That Remus’s performances make you envy the deaf?”

Evans whacked him lightly on the arm. James lost his breath. The warmth of her touch burned like embers in a hearth, long after her fleeting fingers knotted together, far from his skin.

“He’s your mate,” she accused. “Shouldn’t you be defending his honour?”

James’s tongue poked at the fleshy inside of his cheek. “He works hard, he’s a laugh, he keeps us on track… sort of. I’ll defend that. But honesty is my policy, Evans. Sirius and I have fantasised about throwing that bloody thing in the creek.”

“So we have the same fantasies,” Evans grumbled. “Fantastic.”

His nails left crescent moons on the leather of the wheel. Probably not, he thought. Definitely not.

“The truth comes out in your mistakes, Evans. When your guard’s down.” He lifted his foot, rolling the little way down the rest of the street. She inhaled - the change of tone in his voice had been clearer than he'd intended.

“When people are angry, they say things they don’t mean.” He pulled up outside the second house from the end. This one was timber rather than brick, older than the others, raised on a brick platform. Low shrubs and strangled flowers lined the concrete path from the curb, and further down, gravel tracks rolled down the side of the house and out the back. Rickety stairs led up to the front door, the security screen rusted and faded. Yellow curtains hung in the windows. An old wooden chair waited on the porch, beneath two hand-painted signs – one welcoming all, and a second warning off ‘Jehovers’. Bits of hose littered the front garden. The red-lidded bin bulged with black rubbish bags. Evans shifted, turning her body as if to block the view of the house out the passenger window. The colour leeched from her face; her eyes were luminous. She tugged at the collar of her school jumper.

“I don’t know if I agree with you,” James said frankly, shifting the car into ‘park’ and pulling the handbrake. Evans’s hand rested on the handle of the door.

“I fight with my sister all the time,” Evans said. “I don’t really hate her.”

“Not now,” James said, “but in that moment… I don’t know. Maybe. It’s a feeling, not a resolution. I don’t think you say anything you haven’t felt before. Anger doesn’t make you a different person, you know? It just sort of… sharpens bits.”

The door opened, and Evans scooped up her backpack, halfway out the car.

“Thanks,” she said sharply. “For the ride.”

“Evans –”

“Thank you.”

James unclicked his belt, climbing over the gearbox. He caught the door as it swung shut, opening it again.

“Evans!” She stilled with her back to him, standing on the browning grass, bag hanging by one strap. James took a deep breath. “Evans, you have to know that – that word doesn’t just slip out.”

She whirled around, face hard, eyes wet. “It’s not really up to you to decide what I have to know, actually, Potter.” But she was listening to him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the gearstick digging into his stomach as he leaned across. He looked like an idiot, probably. He didn’t care.

“You deserve better,” he said. Evans flinched. Her lips curled cruelly.

“What, someone like you? I heard what you said to him. You’re not any better –”

“I didn’t call him that –”

“He’s been my friend since I was seven, Potter.” Her face crumpled; she turned her face to the sky, eyes shut. “You don’t get it. You could never get it. He’s the one that knows.” An angry arm flicked at the street. “I bet your bedroom’s air-conditioned.”

James frowned. “Yeah,” he said, flummoxed – what did that have to do with anything? “I mean – not me. I didn’t mean me. We would never… but not Snape. You deserve better than him. You have more than two options, you know.”

Slowly, she looked down at him. Trails shone on he cheeks. James pushed himself up on his hands, awkwardly manoeuvring back to his seat. Her mouth moved wordlessly; she rubbed her face, wiping the tears.

“Please don’t tell Remus what I said,” she said quietly.

“I won’t,” James said. “I promise.”

Evans smiled tightly, and then the door swung shut. James took a shuddering breath, watching as she crossed the grass and slumped up the stairs, shoving a key into the door and letting herself in. His mind churned. What didn’t he get? What didn’t he understand? The answer was beyond his reach, tantalising. He pressed his forehead to the wheel, sighing.

Lily Evans always left him with questions. He didn’t mind that. He just wished he knew how to find the answers.

#jily #jilymicrofics #jilymicroops #lily evans #james potter #hp #fanfic

[poisonedfate]

58 merthur for he prompt thing if you'd like to

hello!!! ii got a little carried away with this one, so it ended up being about 1.1k words (oops). you can read it on ao3 or under the cut.

prompt: “I’d die for you. Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife but really, it’s the thought that counts.”

send me prompts!

The ache in his shoulder was still there, as was Arthur's unreadable, if not slightly concerning looks. There were only fading scratches now visible on his arm, so really, the ache was nothing to worry about, but that only gave him more time to wonder about Arthur's looks. 

Merlin would often ignore them, the looks directed only at him - he either did not want to know, did not want to answer the questions that followed, or Arthur would tell him anyway - no point in losing sleep over it. But the looks did not seem to lessen, if anything it was the opposite, and the other had made no clear attempts at making his thoughts known. Arthur's eyes followed him around, weighing on him until he had finally had enough:

"Those worry lines are going to be permanently etched into your skin if you keep looking at me like that," he spoke, turning around quickly, now facing Arthur who was sitting at the table, staring. 

"I think I'll be fine," Arthur quickly muttered in response, scoffing and looking away. 

If anyone were to ask, Merlin would absolutely blame Arthur in every way possible for making him believe he could move quicker than necessary, just to escape the prince's gaze, resulting in a sharp breath and a moment of halted movement. And, really, it should've been fine but Arthur was being obnoxious, so of course he noticed. 

"Alright, Merlin, I've had enough," the prince said, voice already closer behind him than Merlin had expected. Was he actually about to blame Merlin for getting hurt? He better not. Merlin gave an unimpressed look in response.

"You know I'd actually prefer it if you could be in one piece whilst doing your job."

"I am in one piece!" he immediately retorted, only for Arthur to poke him in the shoulder. Not strongly enough to hurt him, just enough to make his point.

"Please, I know you can be dramatic sometimes, but this a new low even for you," Merlin continued, earning a glare from Arthur, "this is nothing."

"Why hasn't it healed yet?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually have all the answers," another glare from Arthur. The prince stayed quiet for a moment, staring at his shoulder like there was something interesting there - not that Merlin would know, he was pretty sure it was just a shoulder. 

"You need to stop doing that," Arthur spoke again, a seriousness lacing his tone now.

"Doing what?" Merlin tilted his head, brows furrowed. 

"Putting yourself in harm's way on my accord."

"I'm quite certain it was the sword that came at me not the other way around. Besides, you were the one who had to help me get out of that one, maybe you should think about your own tendencies of jumping into danger," he smiled.

"I'm a knight!" Arthur's eyes widened like they usually did when Merlin said something to offend him.

"Ah, well that explains it," he replied, trying to lighten the mood, though it did not seem to work, so he continued, "Arthur, you know I’d die for you. Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife, but really, it’s the thought that counts. You're not getting rid of me that easily." 

"I don't need-"

"Oh, will you get over yourself? You might have the power to make me shine your armour and make your bed, but you don't get to tell me who to live or die for," he sighed, tone slightly mocking. 

It might've, however, backfired on him slightly, a glint appearing in Arthur's eyes, something he has come to recognise as an idea on the prince's part. 

"So,-"

"You give me a job and I'll follow you anyway," Merlin interrupted, unimpressed. Arthur raised an eyebrow at that, though they both knew it was true, even without Merlin saying it. 

"Just tell me I'm really brave and let's move on from this, hm?" he had decided to go the full-mockery route since the frown on the other's face was only barely beginning to fade. 

Arthur sighed, a gentleness creeping into his features, as he reached for Merlin's arm, the one that didn't hurt, dragging the palm of his hand across it, stopping once he reached Merlin's own hand, lingering, hooking his pointer finger with Merlin's for only a second before letting go. 

He could only stare at the other, not sure how to respond. It wasn't unusual for Arthur to seek out soft touches, especially when there was something bothering him, but that didn't mean Merlin had figured out how to react. Usually, when the other made the first move, he would just go with whatever Arthur wanted, though that typically meant waiting around to see how he would continue. 

More often than not, he'd stay there for a while, close to Merlin, quiet, changing the topic once the thoughts in his head had stopped running, turning away from him. Arthur hadn't made any attempts to move now, however, and Merlin didn't like it. He didn't like that he couldn't read Arthur, that he was doing something Merlin couldn't predict. 

"Arthur," he kept his voice low, careful.

The prince lifted his eyes, taking a step towards him and placing his hands on either side of Merlin's jaw, leaning in closer. 

"Just be careful, will you? Otherwise, I won't be around for you to haunt, having to stress over you would've sent me to my doom already," his tone was earnest, a hint of annoyance somewhere in there too. 

"I will only try to die for you when strictly necessary, you have my word," he put his hand on one of Arthur's arms, giving it a barely-there squeeze, smiling. 

The prince rolled his eyes, moving the arm Merlin wasn't holding away so he could point at him. 

"Merlin,"

"Yeah, yeah," he grabbed at Arthur's hand, lowering it, "your wish is my command."

"Merlin."

It was his turn to lean in now, though at this point they were only a couple of breaths away from each other, so there was not a lot of room left for dramatics. 

"Yes, sire, when the time comes I will let you die, otherwise they'll throw me in the dungeons for trying to protect you and...killing you anyways?" he mocked, causing Arthur to grab at him, holding him by the arm, pulling. 

They were dangerously close to each other now, completely still. Merlin could hear the exact moments of Arthur's inhales and exhales, his breath heavy, could see the other's eyes lower to his lips and then up again. 

And, well, at least Arthur had finally figured out a way to stop Merlin from talking back. 

#thank you so so much for sending this #clearly had a lot of fun with it as you can see by the fact that i could only stop after 1k words #love them #kisses #q's #ask game #prompts #rei writes #merthur

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Try

Written for @hinnymicrofic January 2024, using Prompt 21

Another not-really-very-micro microfic. Oops!

They didn’t know she was watching them, Ginny was sure of that. She was carefully hidden as she was amongst the leafy branches of the biggest apple tree, a climb that she was fairly certain none of them even knew she could manage, but Ginny had spent much of the spring practising, while all the others were away at school. Now, in high summer, she could shimmy up to the very top with no effort at all.

She knew that no one would mind if she left her perch and went to join them, but the thought that she might embarrass herself again left her glued to the branch. It also left her incredibly frustrated that she honestly thought she would scream, if that wouldn’t mean being discovered spying on them all, and if being discovered spying on them all wouldn’t in itself be even more embarrassing.

Instead, Ginny watched with increasing jealousy as her brothers splashed about in the cool water of the pond below. The air around her was still and languid, the heat of the afternoon lingering as day faded into early evening. She felt ridiculously hot and sticky, and the pond looked so very inviting.

Of course, if it had been just her brothers and her father in the pond, then she would definitely be down there too, right in the thick of their games - because she was Ginny Weasley, and no one left her on the sidelines if they knew what was good for her. But it wasn’t just her brothers, was it? No, there was someone else there too, and that someone else was Harry Potter. THE Harry Potter. The Harry Potter about whom Ginny had read so much, the Harry Potter who was the subject of all her most cherished daydreams, the Harry Potter who Ginny was absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent going to marry one day. In her pond. With her brothers. 

Of course, it was true that he was… shorter than she had imagined. Skinnier too. Still, Ginny thought, he was very handsome. He had such pretty eyes. The colour definitely reminded her of something, though she wasn’t quite sure what. Ah well, she was sure it would come to her eventually. She liked his hair too. It was so very black and looked so very soft, and she liked the messy way it always stuck up - a little hint of something wild and unruly about him, no matter how polite he was to her mum. 

Harry, of course, wasn’t swimming. Instead, he was paddling ankle deep in the shallows, occasionally engaging in splash battles with Ron. Watching him, Ginny was struck yet again by how horribly unfair it all was. What on earth was wrong with her that she couldn’t manage to utter more than a squeak in his presence? She had so many funny, clever and downright cool things that she wanted to say to him, things that she was sure would impress him very much indeed, but her brain seemed to turn to utter mush whenever he was in the same room. Take that very morning as an example - she hadn’t even been able to answer when he asked her a simple question about her Hogwarts letter without humiliating herself. It was, she had to admit, as she examined the grease mark on her elbow for the thousandth time that day, something of a spanner in the works when it came to getting him to realise that she was anything more than Ron’s weird baby sister. 

As she watched, Ginny heard a familiar voice hailing her brothers - Dad was home from work. She twisted to look back towards the house, to see him striding towards the pond, also wearing his swimming trunks. 

“Now then, Harry!” he said, bracingly, as he arrived at the edge of the pond. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Erm… If you’re sure, Mr Weasley,” replied Harry, in a quiet voice. “I don’t want to be any bother.” Ginny thought he sounded extremely nervous, and more than a bit embarrassed. 

“Nonsense! Everyone needs to know how to swim. I’ve taught seven kids so far, one more will be no trouble at all!”

Which was entirely true. Ginny couldn’t really remember a time when she couldn’t swim, because her Dad insisted all the kids learn as young as possible, especially with a deep pond being so close to the house. It seemed really strange to her that someone as old as Harry had never learned, and both her parents had found it really shocking that he couldn’t when the subject came up at the dinner table the night before. 

It started innocuously enough, with Fred remarking that he hoped the forecast heatwave would last long enough to get in lots of swims. Ron then excitedly asked Harry if he had any trunks with him, and Harry had blushed deep beetroot, looking down at the table as he admitted he wouldn’t be able to join them. 

Mr Weasley asked a few questions just to make sure he had understood correctly, then spent some time spluttering things like ‘basic life skill, even for muggles’, ‘dereliction of duty’ and ‘downright unsafe’, before briskly announcing that he’d be teaching Harry himself. Harry, of course, tried to argue, but Mrs Weasley had rustled up a pair of trunks that probably originally belonged to Bill (because frankly, every item of clothing in the house originally belonged to Bill), before she’d even cleared up the dessert plates. 

She watched as her father supported Harry as he got into the pond, encouraging him to put his face in the water and blow bubbles, then supporting him as he tried floating and kicking his legs. 

Eventually, her father clearly decided his student was ready for the next stage. “Right then, Harry! Just give it a try!” he declared.

“Okay, Mr Weasley.” Ginny thought Harry looked utterly terrified at the prospect, but he took a deep breath, and his features settled into a resolute expression. He hurled himself forward into the water, wheeling his arms and kicking his legs in a tidal wave of splashes that landed straight in her father’s face. Then he sank like a stone. 

Ginny gasped as Harry disappeared below the water, but of course her father plucked him from under the surface only moments later. Harry was red faced and spluttering, with both water and apologies, but her father had only kind reassurances for him. Harry took a moment to compose himself, before striking off for a second time, with much the same results. Again and again he tried, listening carefully to Ginny’s father between each attempt. Gradually, his arm movements became more deliberate, and his kicks became more controlled, but it only seemed to extend the length of time between sinkings.  

Just then, Ginny heard her mother’s voice boom through the trees, carried by a particularly shrill Sonorus charm. “Arthur! Boys! Dinner’s nearly ready! Bring Ginny with you if she’s out there - I can’t find her anywhere!”

With the promise of food imminent, Ginny’s brothers stormed from the pond towards the house. Meanwhile, her father gave Harry an encouraging smile, as he conjured a pair of well-worn towels.

“Come on, Harry, let’s call it a day for now,” he said, slinging a towel around Harry’s shoulders. “We’ll try again tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll crack it by the end of the week.”

Harry’s thin features were set with determination as the pair of them followed Ginny’s brothers back to the house. “Thanks, Mr Weasley. I’ll try my hardest.”

Once they had left, Ginny dropped casually from branch to branch and then down to the ground below. As she ambled across the orchard back to the house, her head was buzzing with what she had just seen. Harry had been so nervous to start with, but he had set about his task with impressive tenacity nonetheless. Well, Ginny was nothing if not tenacious too. If Harry could learn to swim, surely Ginny could manage something as inconsequential as speaking in front of him. She could start small, just like putting her head underwater, just like blowing bubbles. Just a couple of words in his presence, and not even to him - to her Mum, maybe, or the twins. Perhaps she wouldn’t manage the first time, but that didn’t mean giving up. She would just try again. And eventually, she was sure, it would all be worth it. One day.

#hinny microfic #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfiction #I appear to be dreaming of summer already

[my-beloved-lakes]

@leveragetober

Leveragetober 2023

Prompt 4: crossover

Parker, Eliot and Hardison take a job in Paris. When it gets interrupted by a con artist who is scamming their mark, they decide to recruit him into Leverage International. (Under the cut.)

Parker eyed the man claiming to be the mark's assistant, tied to the chair in front of her. He was a grifter, No doubt about it now. And he was really good too.

None of them had suspected him of being criminal, not until they had caught him trying to clear out the mark’s bank account at the same time as them, making this simple trip to Paris much more complicated.

So, who was this guy really? A grifter, sure, but why had he chosen the exact same mark as them? Maybe it was just a coincidence, but what were the chances of that?

"Who are you?" Parker asked. "And don’t bother lying. We’ll know if you do.”

Parker heard Eliot crack his knuckles behind her. She knew Eliot wasn't actually going to hurt this guy, since he wasn’t much of a threat, but this guy didn't know that. And yet Parker only caught a brief flash of fear in his eyes before he managed to hide it again.

He’s not gonna talk, is he? Parker shrugged. There were other ways of finding out what they wanted to know.

"Run his face through that thing that tells you who people are." She said turning to Hardison.

"Parker, it’s called...?" Hardison started to say but was interrupted.

"Wait, The Parker!?" The guy asked, astonished.

"The one and only." Parker sighed. She was getting tired of people recognizing her as a world famous thief.

"You stole the Hope Diamond five years ago!"

Parker nodded.

"And then put it back!"

Parker rolled her eyes. 

“Yes I did. So, since you know so much about me, why don't you tell us about yourself," Parker glanced at Hardison's computer. "Neal Cafrey."

"Ooh, you were good!" Hardison sounded genuinely impressed as he read from the files that popped up.

"Still am." Neal smirked. 

"Huh, says here that you're dead." Hardison said.

"Aww, Your FBI handler wrote a very sweet message for your obituary." Parker added, reading more information from the files that Hardison had found.

Neal ducked his head and looked away.

oops. Parker thought. She hadn't meant to be insensitive, but that seemed to have hit a nerve. Maybe they had been close.

Parker pulled up a swivel chair and sat down in front of Neal.

"Alright, just tell us why you were running The Oklahoma Little Chucky on our mark." She demanded.

"No, it was a John and Mary scam." Eliot corrected. "You need a pit bull and a wedding cake for the Oklahoma Little Chucky.”

"Well, it couldn't've been a John and Mary scam cuz you need a whole fire station for that one." Hardison argued.

"Oh, I had the fire station." Neal said slyly.

"Ooh!" Eliot, Hardison and Parker all said in unison. They were all genuinely impressed.

"And to answer your question; the same reason as you, I'd imagine." Neal continued.

"Because his company was polluting the surrounding areas, making people really sick and killing all the wildlife?" Parker asked.

"Okay, I guess not." Neal looked taken aback. "Alright, you guys have already figured out half of it.  I faked my death back in America and I fled here. I needed an easy score that would pay well so I could set myself up with a new life." Neal explained. "You guys are criminals, just like me. You understand, so, one criminal to another, would you be so kind as to let me go?" Neal slipped his hands out of the ropes and stood up without waiting for an answer. 

Parker cocked an eyebrow in surprise.  

“I'm very good at what I do.” Neal shrugged.

He was good. Anyone who could slip one of Eliot's knots had to be.

Neal grabbed his hat off the table, flipped it in his hand and placed it back on his head before heading for the door.

"What if..."  Parker said and spun her chair around to face him, "we offered you a job?"

Neal hesitated at the door.

"It comes with that chance at a new life you were looking for. A chance to run your own crew, long term, right here in Paris." Parker added.

she glanced at Eliot and Hardison who both nodded in agreement. It was the same pitch they had given to Hurley when they had set up the Mexican branch of leverage, and now she got to give it again. They had come to France in the hopes of setting up a new branch of leverage in the first place. She hadn’t been sure how they were going to find someone willing to do it, but then along came Neal Cafrey, an experienced grifter looking for a fresh start. The perfect candidate had fallen right into their lap.

Neal turned around. He was intrigued.

"Let's talk business." Parker said with a sly smile.

#leveragetober #leveragetober 2023 #leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #white collar #Neal Cafrey #white collar fanfic #leverage fanfic #leverage/white collar crossover #i am having so much fun with this!

[noodyl-blasstal]

Oops, Come Dine With Me

It's @taznovembercelebration day 7! Today I got "Cooking" and drew another card, "Bakery AU"

You can read yesterday's prompt here and today's below.

-

Taako answers the phone, tucks it between his shoulder and ear, grabs the cookies, and closes the oven door as quietly as possible with his knee. "Go for Taako."

"Tah-kow, darling, how are you?" Asks an overfamiliar voice. Definitely one of the twins from the production company, Taako isn't sure which one, maybe Edward?

"Cha'boy's just wonderful, thank you so much for asking. How about your good self?" Taako rolls his eyes, but it’s worth playing the game as long as this pays off.

"I'm splendiferous, just peachy, and so thrilled to tell you the outcome of your interview."

Taako waits, there's so much riding on this. If he can just get the money he can afford the bakery. There's no way he's letting Jenkins get it instead, but Jenkins has family money and Taako has one sister who’s as broke as he is. If Jenkins gets it Taako's going to have to leave, going to have to charm his way into another restaurant or bakery because boy does he not have the qualifications for it. His macarons can only take him so far in life. But if he gets to own the shop? Then he can branch out. Taako can bake better than anyone, but he cooks too. He's a baller chef and once the bakery is his he can prove it.

"Are you still there dear?" Edward asks, Taako's fairly sure it's Edward, not that he’ll gamble and use his name yet.

"Yeparooni."

"Aren't you going to ask what the decision was?" Edward sounds pissed off, but Taako hates playing games. It's worth it though, well, if he's got the spot.

"Sure. Did cha'boy knock yours socks off?"

"We were impressed by your skills, and very intrigued by your husband's menu theming - a fan of the macabre you said?" Shit. He didn’t think they were going to ask about it… maybe Taako didn't completely totally and fully think this plan through.

"He sure is!" Taako says brightly. "Big fan of death. Loves a goth bird too, you can probably tell." Taako had channelled him hard when he wrote that menu.

Edward laughs, polite and insincere. "Yes, well, such a shame he couldn't make it to the interviews."

"Mmhmm." Taako replies, attempting the most mournful voice he can muster. "It was deeply difficult to do something so important without him there, but, you just can't argue with explosive diarrhoea, can you?" Well, hopefully he wouldn’t.

Edward makes a choked noise of disgust on the other side of the phone and it fills Taako with vindictive glee. Serves him right, honestly - how dare he ask Taako about the husband he’s entering Couples Come Dine With Me with and mentioned multiple times throughout the interview.

"How..  ah... romantic." Edward's clearly struggling not to let his disgust shine through and failing miserably.

"Thank you, we're very deeply in love." Taako says, doing his best impression of Taako Tacco: married guy.

Edward chuckles. "I'm sure you are, and that you'll be delighted to hear that you get to demonstrate that love to the nation - you’ve been selected for the show!”

Edward’s so effusive that Taako feels he should do more to celebrate than a silent fistpump. “Wowwee! Golly gee! What wonderful news!! I’m jumping for joy!” Taako does jump, three times, just in case Edward can hear somehow.

“I’m so glad you’re excited. We’ll just need you and, Kravitz to meet with the producers to hand in your final menu and we can discuss filming your sections.” Edward’s in business mode now.

“Just to check…” Taako ventures. “... just in case, you know, it comes up, what would happen if my beloved, darling Kravitz were still too unwell to take part?” Taako tries to sound as innocent as possible, it’s a perfectly ordinary question, anyone would ask it.

Edward laughs once. “He won’t be, Taako.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” That sounded like they’d marionette his corpse round if he tried to back out.

“It’s <i>Couples</i> Come Dine With Me, Taako. No husband, no shot at the prize, we’ve got back up couples.”

“Uh huh.” Says Taako, cool, totally normal, nonchalant, in fact. “So, if he were ill, could I bring a friend? My sister would do it.”

“That’s not really the kind of show, not to judge of course, but the couples do have to be legal. Anyway, ta ta! Watch out for the email from production.” 

Edward’s gone. Taako stands alone in the kitchen with a tray of cookies and the mess he created. He pulls out his phone:

Taako [15:27] Hey Krav, wanna get married?

#I think I might expand this later because it's the perfect recipe for chaos... #TAZ November Celebration #TAZ Balance #Taakitz #Balance fic #TAZ fic #Noodyl Writes #taznc

[practically-an-x-man]

little prompt for you if you like: "is that my sweater?"

Awww thank you! I'm thinking this will be really cute for Kyle and Jasper.

____ Undone

Word Count: 1.1k Content Warnings: fluff, established relationship, mild suggestive content

____

Jasper's key clicked in the lock, and they pushed the door to their apartment open. The squeak in the hinge was gone - Kyle must have finally gotten tired of it and attacked it with some WD-40 earlier today. They stuck out a foot, keeping Ruff from barreling out the door. For a dog that barely weighed fifteen pounds and spent most of his life lounging in the sunshine, he certainly seemed to think he had a chance of making a break for it.

They scooped the dachshund up and laughed as he wriggled around to lick their face. Jasper readjusted their grip on the dog to give him a scratch behind his floppy ears.

"Hey, Jazz," Kyle called out from some other corner of the apartment, "How was work?"

"Fine!" Jasper called back, gently setting Ruff N' Tumble back down as they spoke. The dog went trundling off into the kitchen, following the sound of Kyle's voice and the vague promise of food scraps. Jasper followed, shrugging off their jacket as they passed the coat rack. "Kind of tiring, I guess. Lot of bee stings. Apparently there was this office picnic out by Audobon Park and there was a hive in one of the gazebos. One of the bees got caught in a lady's purse and flew around the ER for a while... freaked a lot of people out, so..."

They finally reached the kitchen and found Kyle hard at work chopping vegetables. There was a pot of broth on the stove, and he paused just long enough to readjust the burner before returning to his carrots and onions. Ruff stood at his feet, paws tip-tapping eagerly against the tile floor. Kyle glanced down, then not-so-subtly nudged a baby carrot off his cutting board with the flat of his knife.

"Oops." he deadpanned, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips as Ruff snapped it up.

"How was your day, babe?"

"Eh. Fine. Finally got that project sent in." Kyle answered, then set down his chef's knife to pull Jasper into a brief kiss. He pulled back just a moment later, shrugging at he rubbed at one of the scars on his wrists. "Humidity's got me all itchy, though. So that's been fun."

Jasper reached out and ran their hand over the space where his shoulder met his back - one of the places where he couldn't quite reach the scars without all sorts of awkward contortions. Kyle groaned faintly and leaned into the touch, and Jasper wondered how long that spot had been bothering him.

"Here." he said, reaching to grab a spoon and dipping it into the broth, "Taste this."

Jasper obliged, though the broth was so hot they burned the roof of their mouth. Kyle winced in apology as he tossed the spoon back into the sink.

"It's good." they said, once the heat had died down enough for them to actually taste it, "Homemade ramen?"

"Mm-hm. I got the recipe online. Figured we could try it out."

"Do I have time to shower before it's ready?"

"Oh, yeah. The carrots will take a few minutes to cook," Kyle said, then gestured at a pile of green vegetables, "And... whatever this is."

"Bok choy?"

"Right," he agreed with a shrug, tossing the vegetables into the broth, "But you've got time."

"You're the best." Jasper sighed, leaning faintly into his side before drawing back. Ruff followed them for just a few steps before giving up, deciding that the chance of more baby carrots trumped the opportunity for belly rubs as Jasper made their way into the bedroom.

There were few things that helped a bad day more than a good hot shower. Jasper did their best to keep it brief, not wanting to delay dinner, but they could feel the lingering sludge of emotion from the ER melting away under the spray of water.

"Is that my sweater?" Kyle asked when they slipped back into the kitchen ten minutes later. His eyes raked up and down their figure openly, and Jasper bit their cheek to hold back a smile. They burrowed a little deeper into the garment - indeed, one of Kyle's old fraternity sweatshirts, washed and worn down to comfortable softness.

"Do you want me to take it off?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows, a half-smile pulling at his lips.

"Only if you're not wearing anything underneath," he said, dark eyes sparking as he bared them a cheeky grin. Jasper felt themself flush but didn't back down.

"What about dinner?"

"We've still got time," Kyle protested, coming up behind them and wrapping his arms around their waist. His hands snuck under the hem of their sweatshirt and traveled up, palms warm as he traced the expanse of their skin. After a moment, he let out a low breath and ducked his head to whisper in Jasper's ear. "Mm. I was right."

He'd struggled with touch for a long time. After he was first brought back, he'd hardly let himself touch them at all - as Jasper learned later, once he'd gotten his words back, he'd felt uncomfortable with the idea that it was technically someone else's hands doing the touching, what with all the splicing and grafting the witches had put him through. Jasper had reassured him, time and time again, that they didn't care and had always seen him as Kyle, but... still, it had taken a long time for him to bounce back from that. Even recently, he was hesitant with intimacy in a way he'd never really been before.

Kyle tightened his grip, pulling Jasper back against his chest, and pressed his lips to the underside of their jaw. Jasper let out a low sigh, stifling a shiver of pleasure.

And from the kitchen, a timer beeped.

Kyle muttered a low swear, his breath tickling Jasper's neck.

"That would be our dinner." he sighed, "Perfect timing."

He leaned in and pressed one more kiss to Jasper's throat, then gently unwound his arms and stepped back. Jasper didn't let him get far. They spun around and caught the lapel of his shirt, tugging him down into a deeper kiss. Kyle hummed, low and rough in his throat, and chased them as they began to pull back. Jasper reached up and ran their fingers through his mess of wild curls, drawing another low noise from him.

"To be continued," they promised, giving his hair a faint tug for emphasis. Kyle let out a sharp breath, visibly steadying himself.

"To be continued."

#me feeling so clever with the title since undone is “the sweater song” lol #my friends!!! #answered asks #my writing #my ocs #jasper wilson #ficlet #oneshot #tw suggestive #established relationship #fluff #mild suggestive content #ahs coven #kyle spencer #oc x canon

[ratchlocked]

If ur still looking for ratchlock prompts I would love to see something with either consensual cannibalism or siphoning. I go absolutely feral for the amount of trust it takes to be so vulnerable to give part of yourself to be subsumed by another yet trust them to not hurt you. I think it also fits in with ratchet's need to take care of others at his own expense. Feel free to ignore if it's not your cup of tea!

Well, dear anon, here you go. This broke the definition of "drabble" and is a one-shot instead, huh. Oops. Enjoy your 1,000+ words! If you like it, I'd love to hear from you :D

Warning: consensual cannibalism! This isn't sex but it's still kinky and horny, so beware.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43961157 (I'd love some kudos/comments!)

-

There is a plus to having his optics on a doctor. Many, in fact. The Doc can patch him up when he's wounded, mitigating the danger of exposing any vulnerability to another Decepticon before he can make it to a safe enough place to let his nanites get to work on repairs. He's also intelligent—Deadlock doesn't have the time to play with fools. More important than any of that, though, is that Ratchet knows how bots work. Through and through. He knows what breaks them, right down to the most minute things that can go wrong. He knows a million ways to fix those things, and it's downright fascinating what can be done to a mech without the risk of endangering their life. At least, not if remedied quickly enough.

With that in mind, Deadlock had proposed something to his dear medic, and he waits with a rattling shudder to each vent in for his response.

"Would you give me a piece of you, Doc? A real piece, one that I get to keep inside me forever?"

Ratchet's gaze is steady, boring into his own. Deadlock can already feel his frame heating up, ripples of possession and desire rolling through his EM field. For half a minute, he wonders if Ratchet will really say yes.

Because, surely, he knows what Deadlock is asking for. Deadlock is a siphonist—he's taken Ratchet's fuel many times, drank hungrily from the lines at his neck, or the glimpse of cables at his wrist joints. Ratchet knows that his fangs are sharp enough to pierce metal, to tear into it. Logically, then, he is also capable of... consuming it entirely.

Ratchet, Deadlock knows, must know of this phenomenon, too. Must be able to make the connection himself that Deadlock wants more than just his fuel. 

Deadlock braces himself for rejection, his spark taut in its casing. 

Ratchet comes closer, their chests pressing flush together. He takes Deadlock's clawed servo and cups the side of his own helm with it. Deadlock brushes the delicate little wing there between the tips of his digits.

"Whatever piece you'd like," Ratchet answers. "I trust you."

Deadlock doesn't lunge—no, he takes his medic's free servo in his own, gently lifting the pristine white plating of Ratchet's arm to his lips. 

"You're sure? It'll hurt more than..." Deadlock begins to warn him, but the look in Ratchet's sweet blue optics cuts him off. He's... serious about this. He understands. He's... he's going to let him do this.

"I want this," Ratchet reassures him, and the soft crook of his neck pushes that precious little wing further between Deadlock's digits. He could snap it off so easily, but he never, ever would.

"Ratchet," Deadlock groans, his voice softly crackling with static. The movement brushes his lips and fangs against soft plating, soft plating that he's wanted to crush and tear with his fangs for so long. He won't risk damaging Ratchet's talented servos, nor the sensitive wiring that connects them to his systems, so he must be careful with this. Ratchet would know this, too. One wrong move here could risk his career, his very duty. 

Deadlock bites into the plating of Ratchet's arm, beautiful white-painted metal tearing, compacting. Crushed beneath the force of his jaw. Ratchet's pained gasp sends alarm and heat in a single throb to Deadlock's spark, but he doesn't pull away. Ratchet is still, his servo still cupped over Deadlock's at his helm. Ratchet wants to stay here. As Deadlock consumes this piece of him, as Deadlock tears into his frame like he's his prey.

Only, he isn't. Deadlock would never hurt him, not in a way that couldn't be mended. And though he feels possessive of him, he would never claim to own him. He only wishes for Ratchet to be his. And his instincts tell him that for them to become properly inseparable, he needs to take a part of him as his own.  

Metal fangs gnash, chewing armoured plating like an organic would flesh, and the scraping of it as it travels down Deadlock's intake is exquisite. If Ratchet's frame leaves scratches, then those, too, will stay with him. He groans in satisfaction, grasping Ratchet's wrist with all the delicacy of a lover as he takes another chunk of his plating, ashamed to so enjoy the sound of it being cut, torn and crushed.

Ratchet whimpers this time, and Deadlock chews a little more hurriedly than before, intaking the scraps quickly before licking over the torn metal and wiring with his glossa. Lubricant drips from it, coats the shreds of metal liberally, and Ratchet—Ratchet moans.

This time, Deadlock does pull back, his mouth slack as he stares at him. 

"You... It can't..." There's no way that it feels good, he thinks.

But Deadlock knows that look in Ratchet's optics. That haze, the soft flickering of light. 

"Take more," Ratchet gasps, and Deadlock can only interpret it as a command. "Take as much of me as you want."

The next time Deadlock bites down, the tear of metal is sensual, languid. Wires snap between his fangs, and his gaze flits up to watch Ratchet's helm roll back, pain and pleasure crackling with static from his vocalizer. Deadlock can feel his spike pressurizing beneath its panel, and he hisses, glossa lavishing the torn metal and damaged wiring of Ratchet's forearm. 

"That's enough," Deadlock states raggedly, tearing himself away. Ratchet's energon drips from his lips, but the medic doesn't flinch away when he comes close, his servo curling tightly around the back of Ratchet's helm. "I want you."

Ratchet's damage isn't substantial, but Deadlock knows that it must hurt. Torn wires spark with live electricity. Energon drips from where he'd broken a line, but if left alone, Ratchet's nanites will seal it before he's ever at risk of bleeding out. 

Ratchet presses his frame to Deadlock's, the heat beneath his modesty panelling obvious. Deadlock growls, pulling him into a kiss that draws energon from his lips. Deadlock groans as he laps it up, his spike panel snapping open as his want pressurizes urgently between them.

"I'm yours," Ratchet whispers, the gentle touch of his servos flitting over Deadlock's frame. "Now, and—"

"Forever," Deadlock says with him, a soft smirk curled on his lips.

#ratchlock #valveplug #deadlock #ratchet #dratchet #transformers #cannibalism #idw #it's actually quite soft I swear #asks #my writing