#stari mumbles

[the-starlit-blade]

tmagp 9 is gonna go down one of two paths after the bombshells that were the last two episodes: 1 - it continues to drop hints to tma and make us go insane, or 2 - it pretends like none of that happened. who is gerry keay never heard of him. the first is more likely but the second is way funnier

btw i dont have early access NO ONE COMMENT SPOILERS ON THIS POST

#stari mumbles #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers

[klausysworld]

can u write something about damon just being soft and whipped for his girl. just need a damon fluffy fic rn 😩😩

Everything to him

Damon stood with his arms around his girl’s waist as she finished her makeup in the mirror. His chin on top her head as he watched as she layered the romantic red lipstick onto her soft plump lips. He could only hope to have their prints all over him by later that night as she looked herself over.

“You look perfect” he mumbled when she frowned a little and tilted her head. “There’s absolutely nothing I would change, in fact although the makeup has you looking all this much sexier, even without you wear the face of an angel” he purred seeing her lips lift into a smile and her head turn to look at him.

“I’d say flattery gets you no where but it seems to have gotten you rather far as of now” she lifted her arms over his head and round his neck while batting her lashes as him. He pulled her closer so his lips ghosted hers and his eyes dropped at the feeling of her fingers in his hair.

“I only tell the truth to you” he whispered gravelly and she hummed in reply, scratching at his head slowly knowing how it affected him. His eyes shut and pressed his forehead to hers “god I love you” he muttered and her smile grew

“I love you Damon Salvatore” she grinned and he tilted his head slightly to have his lips against hers. He allowed her to take the lead, moving her mouth against his and Brighton’s her other hand up to cup his face as both his hands slid up her back to hold the tops of her arms.

“You’re going to ruin my hair” he muttered and she laughed lightly against his lips before pulling back to look at him, her fingers running through each lock

“I like it messy” she decided before brushing it through with her hands and positioning it in a way that she found suited him best. His eyes glossed over as he watched her loving smile and felt her gentle touches. Her fingertips dances down the back of his neck and round to the front before she adjusted his leather, pulling it tighter on him and wetting her painted lips. Her palms smoothed down his chest, her deep red nails dragging down his black t-shirt before pulling up the hem only to groan at his display of abs. Her thumb tracing his happy trail and stopping at the top of his low-hanging jeans. Her fingers skimming over his belt in a teasing manner.

“Y/n…” he muttered feeling his body getting aroused by her actions “we have a reservation”he reminded, a breath of air leaving him as her hand cupped his crotch through his trousers “baby…” he whispered “you can almost never get a table there”

She sighed and gave him a light squeeze, listened to him grunt and then fixed his shirt and stepped back admiring him “okay…but after…” she pouted and he nodded eagerly

“After you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

She bit her bottom lip gently and held her hand out which he quickly took with a lustful smirk in place.

He kept a hand in hers the whole drive there, only breaking the hold for a second as they got out the car before an arm was back round her hips. She smoothed her cherry coloured dress down, adjusting it to rest a little lower on her thighs as it had ridden up in the car. His gaze dropped to her heels which make a distinct ‘click’ with each step she took. His eyes followed back up her gorgeous legs, along her beautiful figure and back to her face. Watching as she spoke to the waiter at the front who was finding their reservation in the system with a bashful blush on his cheeks as she flashed her pearly white teeth. Damon knew how easy it was to get lost in her charm.

He was barely aware of the world around them as he followed her to their table by the window, overlooking the sunset which was already meeting the stary night sky. Menus were slipped into both their hands and wine glasses filled as though the staff just knew what they would order.

She looked to him with admiration in her eyes and his lips curled up “I can’t believe you managed to book us in here” she whispered and he smiled back

“I can’t believe you almost had us miss our time slot, we only just made it”

“I’m sure I would’ve made up for it”

his mouth formed a lip lifted grin in response and he glanced down to his wine glass “I don’t doubt that, not for even a second” he muttered under his breath and she offered him another award winning smile which consequently brought his own upon his lips.

Her foot slipped out of her heel to leisurely brush along his leg as their food came and they engaged in pointless yet meaningful conversation and ate their meals. And for one of those rare moments, he felt like he was human again. He felt no urges, no lust for blood or chaos, he was calm. Happy.

He loved Y/n in ways he had never explored. Ways he wasn’t sure how to but he did them regardless and if he was doing it wrong, she didn’t tell him. She just helped him feel it, she chose him first and loved him and solely him and it was all he had ever wanted. All he had ever needed.

His mind often wondered at times like this, just listening to her voice and watching her lips move, and then the way her eyes would shine under the light and her hair would bounce over her shoulders as she waved her hands around in unnecessary gestures.

He knew he was smiling like a teenage boy with a crush but he couldn’t help it, even when she stopped talking and just grinned back at him knowingly. Her hand finding his and squeezing gently as their desserts were placed before them.

“If you’d like…we could skip dessert” Damon whispered suggestively making her smile

“Oh but then we’d have wasted our reservation” she sighed and leaned back in her seat, digging into her sweet dish and watching his eyes darken over slightly before he looked down to his food and begrudgingly ate the heavenly portion.

By the time they had both finished, paid and gotten to the door, a horrific amount of rain was bouncing off the ground.

Y/n turned her head to him before swiping the car keys from his hand and dashing for car making him let out a laugh and chase after her, completely forgetting his vampire abilities and just managing to get into the car before she locked it. Both of them looked at each other with large smiles on their faces before each bursting into fits of laughed and flicking their hands at one another to throw rain-water on their faces.

Eventually they got home and Damon had he run his arms, spinning in circles and running for the ridiculously big bathtub so they could soak together in the warmth of both the water and each others arms.

#damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore #tvd damon #damon salvarote #damon salvatore oneshot #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore hc #damon salvatore smut #damon tvd #damon x reader #damon smut #the vampire diaries #the originals #soft!damon #Damon Salvatore fluff #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x oc #damon salvatore x y/n #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diares headers #the vampire diares icons #tvdu hc #tvdu fanfiction #tvdu imagines #tvd fanfiction #tvdu #tvd fluff #tvdu fluff #tvd universe #tvdu x reader

[worldlxvlys]

the way i loved you

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing

a/n: hope you likeee <333

i watched as nick pulled an array of snacks from a plastic bag, setting them on the table.

today nick, matt, chris, and i were going to be filming a video where we rate snacks from around the world.

once nick set the camera up, he did the intro and explained what we would be doing.

while nick explained where he got the food, i watched Chris pick up a small pink tin, inspecting it.

i slowly began to tune out nick’s voice, focusing on the way chris’s fingers ran across the tin.

he carefully placed the tin down, drumming his fingers along the table.

god, his fingers are so long. they’re perfect-

no! stop! you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend’s fingers like that !

i quickly look away from his fingers, realizing i was staring.

luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.

as nick continued to explain the concept of the video, i watched as chris began to smile.

i love how excited he is, he’s adorable.

as i smiled at his eagerness, he happened to look at me, catching my gaze as we smiled at each other.

once nick finished explaining, we decided to try the sour candy in the pink tin first.

i watched as chris attempted to take the plastic wrapping around the tin off, but was unsuccessful.

he fumbled with the plastic, and it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands still. he almost seemed, nervous ?

he turned to me with a bashful smile on his face, “can you open it, please?”

“yeah, i got you” i said as i grabbed it from his hands, removing the plastic wrapping and handing it back to him.

“this one has vitamin c, which one’s that?” he looked at me, expectantly.

“why would i know ?” i asked, furrowing my brows.

“i don’t know, you’re the smart one” he mumbled.

“shut up” i laughed as i shook my head , “you’re smart too” .

we all tried one, and agreed that they weren’t actually sour, despite the tin having the word sour across it in big letters.

“doesn’t it feel like you have to put a lot of effort into getting that grape flavor ?” nick pointed out.

he scrunched his face up, making us all laugh, as chris put his hand on my shoulder, leaning onto me as he laughed.

i love hearing him laugh.

we gave it a rating, and moved onto the next candy.

once we realized they were slide whistles, we all started busting out laughing.

we all started fooling around, laughing at each other’s shenanigans.

chris wrapped his arms around my waist, laughing into my shoulder. the sound of his laugh, made me laugh even harder.

as we continued to try and rank the snacks, chris grew more and more touchy.

not that i’m complaining.

there were many times where i would catch him staring at me and vice versa. he made it so easy to enjoy his presence.

once we finished our last snack and agreed on the final ranking of everything, nick closed out the video and turned off the camera.

i turned to chris. “that was fun” i said trying to fight the shit-eating grin that was forming on my face.

“i agree” he said, returning the smile.

“jesus christ” matt spoke up from behind us, rolling his eyes and walking away.

“what ?” we called out.

A FEW DAYS LATER

nick, chris, and i were hanging out in the living room.

i was scrolling on tik tok, occasionally showing them videos that i found funny.

as i continued to scroll, i came across one video in particular that made my heart begin to race.

the lyrics of The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift filled the room.

what the actual fuck.

and he says, you look beautiful tonight. and i feel perfectly fine. but i miss…

clips of chris and i staring at each other fill the screen.

screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it’s 2 am and i’m cursing your name

chris holding onto my waist, hugging me, leaning on me

so in love that you act insane, and that’s the way i loved you

us laughing together, looks of pure joy on our faces.

i glance to my right, seeing chris already staring down at my phone.

fuck. what do i do ? what do i say ?

suddenly, nick yells “oh my god is that the ship edit of you and chris ? that shit’s blowing up !” he said.

“damn, nick. how’d you know ?”

“i reposted it”

“WHAT?” chris and i stared at him like he had five heads.

“well, it was good. and c’mon, doesn’t take a genius to realize y’all like each other” he said, nonchalantly.

“i’m going to the bathroom” he said, walking off.

i’m literally losing my mind. a ship edit ? a TAYLOR ship edit ? we’re never beating the dating allegations.

“well, what do the comments say?” chris asked, his voice shaking the slightest bit.

i glanced over at him, before opening the comments.

sturniolowhore

awww they’re adorable

blueeyedbesson

they’d look so good tg

abbie13sworld

they’re literally in love no one can convince me otherwise

mommysturns

i literally love them tg 💗

babydollfae22

they need to stop playing and get tg

mbbsgf

them + taylor makes me so happy

“damn. they kinda love us together” i said. i scrolled, expecting to move onto something else.

suddenly, Tattoo by Loreen came on. this edit had clips of chris and i from the recent video and over the years.

it’s like we’re watching a progression of our relationship over the past few years.

every wandering eye, stolen glance, smile that was a little too wide, touch, hug that lasted a little too long, the fans always noticed them.

it was literally right in front of our faces the entire time.

listening to the sound of violins swelling while watching chris and i’s interactions almost made me want to cry.

i turned to chris, who was already staring at me.

he looked down at my lips. “what do the comments say?” he asked.

i turned back to my phone, opening them up.

sophssturn

they’re literally perfect for each other

xhiejfy

how adorableeee

bernardenjoyer

they’re cute ig but me and jimmy would be cuter

queen161718

literally just watched them fall in love with each other

vib3swithanuk

they’re good for each other

fr3sh-love

so so happy for them

“they think that we’d be good together” i told him.

“i think i agree with them” he whispered.

“then maybe you should ask me out” i said, my gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips.

our noses touched. “will you go out with me ?”

i smiled, “hell yeah” i whispered before pushing my lips onto his.

—————-

y’all see any familiar names ? 🤨

i love y’all <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @mommysturns @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #chris sturniolo fic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fic #sturniolo fluff

[rizzanon]

[Favourite] Shinichiro Sano

in which Shinichiro's siblings love you as much as their brother does

a scenario from the childhood friend! Shinichiro post, but can be read as a standalone

“(n/n)-chan! You're finally here!!”

Before you could fully turn around to see the person who called out for you, you were immediately pounced on by two little gremlins. A blond haired boy and a honey blond hair girl.

It seems that the two kids had been waiting eagerly for your arrival.

You could only smile at the sight, quickly hugging the two kids back, as you kneeled to look the both of them in the eyes.

“Hi Emma, Manjiro! Have you been waiting for me to arrive?”

The blonde hair girl nods her head eagerly, as she linked her arm with yours.

“Yes! I want to show you my new tea set!”

“Hey no fair! (n/n)-chin promised me that she'll let me show her the new taekwondo moves I've learnt!” The blond boy interjected, as he grabbed your other arm and pulled you towards him.

Being sandwiched between the two kids, you didn't know what to do to ease the both of them. You were about to open your mouth to say something to calm them down when someone beat you to it.

“Hey now, both of you. Leave her alone. Give her some space to breathe, will ya’?”

You looked up to see a familiar black haired guy walking towards the three of you. His hair and shirt slightly messed up and his face filled with some minor bruises. The two kids who were begging for you to follow them immediately stopped their antics, looking down in shame at being caught.

“Sorry, Shin-nii.”

Leave it to Shinichiro to control his siblings.

You looked up at your black haired friend, eyeing his unkempt appearance.

“Woah, you look like shit.” The taller male scoffs at your words.

“Rude. You think I don't know that already?”

“Just reminding you, that's all.” You hummed.

Your friend rolls his eyes at your words, before chuckling.

“Leave it to you to remind me of my shortcomings.”

“Maybe if you didn't decide to avoid your grandather's dojo lessons, you might've been able to come out of the fight not looking like shit.”

Shinichiro only sheepishly looked away, knowing that he couldn't refute your words.

“And this is why you should hang out with me instead, (n/n)-chin! I'm way stronger than Shin-nii. Even gramps said so!” The blond haired boy proudly exclaims, earning a groan from his older brother and a giggle from his younger sister.

“Is that so? Maybe you should teach your brother some moves then. He could use some lessons.” You teased, ruffling the younger male's hair as he looked up at you with stary eyes.

“Oi, don't go giving him ideas now. It's bad enough I have gramps on my ass.” Shinichiro grumbled, shaking his head exasperatedly.

“And who's fault is that?”

“.....Fair enough.”

You felt a tug at your left arm, and looked down to see a wide-eyed Emma staring at you with pleading eyes.

“Come on (n/n)-chan! Now that Shin-nii's here, we can all have a tea party with the new tea set grandpa got for me!”

You see from the corner of your eye the brother duo quietly trying to escape, but you knew better and grabbed them both by their collar, stopping them from leaving.

“And where do you two think you're going?”

“Heheh... I just remembered I have work to do...!” Shinichiro mumbles out a poor excuse, as he tries to get out from your grasp, only for you to pull him back.

“Going to do some measley work when your dear sister over here invited you to a tea party?” Your expression right now was scary, even Manjiro knew not to do anything stupid and just follow what you say.

Shinichiro sweats profusely, as he avoided all eye contact with you.

“Right... right... my bad. You're absolutely right...”

“See, it's not so bad, right?”

You were seated at a kiddy table, with plastic cutlery and food on it, while holding a cup of imaginary tea that Emma handed you.

You hear some groans from the older male, and you shoot him a nasty glare.

“What's with the attitude?”

“What attitude? I'm thoroughly enjoying my afternoon cup of tea over here.” Shinichiro replies, as he pretends to sip on the said tea.

You chuckle and roll your eyes at his gesture, before turning to look at the younger boy, who was blatantly pouting.

“What's wrong lil' guy?”

“This is boring. What's the point of having a tea party when there isn't even any real food or tea?!?”

“Hey! I tried my best okay! Can't you see!!?” Emma exclaims, as she crossed her arms out of indignance.

“Who says there isn't any real food though?”

The two kids immediately whipped their head towards your direction, and in an instant, you could see their eyes light up at the sight of the goodies and snacks you had brought with you.

“Woah...! Did you-”

“Yes, Manjiro, I also brought taiyaki with me too.”

“(n/n)-chin, you're my favourite person from now on!” The blonde haired boy exclaims, as he rushes towards you to receive his favourite treat.

“Was I not already your favourite person?” You chuckled, as you took out the packet of taiyaki you had bought specifically for the younger boy. His eyes widened, before he flashed a boyish grin at you.

“Of course you were! You still are now too, just had to remind you again.”

“You're my favourite person too, (y/n)-chan!” Emma gushed, as she too made her way to see the variety of snacks you had brought for them.

“Is there any for me?” You see the older male peeking over your shoulder, with a hopeful look in his eyes. Seems like he too was in the mood for a treat.

“Nope.”

Shinichiro's expression immediately becomes one of distraught, as he puts a hand to his chest.

“Ouch! Your words wound me, (y/n). How could you forget to bring a snack for this dear friend of yours.”

Is this guy serious?

“Cut your bullshit Shin. You're fooling no one with your act.”

Shinchiro visibly flinches at your words, before returning back to his normal self.

“Oh well. It was worth a try. Wanted to see if it would earn me some pity points from you.” Shinichiro shrugs, right before he was met with a bag of chips smacked right across his face. He immediately falls back from the sudden impact, earning giggles from his two younger siblings.

“Woops, my bad. Didn't mean to aim for your face.” You apologised, not sparing a glance at the black haired guy.

You definitely meant to aim for his face.

Shinichiro just laughs it off, as he shifted to sit next to you, opening up the packet of chips you threw at him.

“Aww, I knew I was always your favourite. You even got me my favourite flavour of chips too!” Shinichiro teases, earning a scoff from you.

“Bold of you to assume you're my favourite Sano, Shin.”

Shinichiro dramatically pauses, letting out a huge gasp. He really looked like he was shocked by your words, but you knew that he was just feigning hurt.

“What?? How could this be? If not me, then who else would be your favourite Sano?” You shook your head in disbelief, but decided to go along with this act of his.

“Your cute and adorable siblings of course!” You replied, as you ruffled both Emma and Manjiro's hair.

“I'm cute and adorable too y'know,” Shinichiro huffs, as he crosses his arms and looked away from you.

“Says no one.” Manjiro replies cheekily before you could even open your mouth to say something. You had to hold in a laugh after seeing the look of betrayal on the older male's face as soon as his younger brother uttered those words from his mouth.

“Wha- I'll have you know that people have in fact said those words, Manjiro "Mikey" Sano.”

Shinichiro tries to back himself up, but his attempt was immediately shot down by his younger sister, who mumbles, “If people really said that, you wouldn't have gotten rejected so many times...”

You lost it at that moment, and burst out in laughter, together with Manjiro who was enjoying the whole roast.

“Seriously?? I can't believe you all are ganging up on me like this...!” Shinichiro pauses, as he let out a few dramatic fake sobs, before continuing.

“My very own siblings too... What did you do for them to favour you like this...”

“Not my fault that I'm just better.”

“Yeah! She's way kinder to us that you are, Shin!” Emma says, much to Shinichiro's disbelief.

“What?? But I'm always nice to you both too!”

“Sure you are. Besides, (y/n)-chin always buys us our favourite snacks too!! See??” Manjiro adds on, shoving the taiyaki and sweets you had given to him up Shinchiro's face. Shinichiro shoots you a glare, but you only just shrug your shoulders, insisting that it is what it is.

“Bribery at it's finest... I can't believe this..” Shinichiro lets out a dejected sigh, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“Though, it's not like I can't blame my siblings." He says, as he leans in closer to you, whispering the next few words only for you to hear.

“You're my favourite person too.”

m.list

#shinichiro sano #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano fluff #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader fluff #shinichiro sano x you #shinichiro x you #shinichiro sano x y/n #shinichiro x y/n #shinichiro sano drabble #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #rizzanon

[astarioffsimpmain]

Cushioned Affections

Gale x Astarion x F!Tav

Warnings: Poly relationship discussion; insecurity; mention of past relationship abuse

Synopsis: Tav is tired of waiting for Astarion to make his move, so she allows Gale to make his first. But will that put an end to her and her favorite vampire spawn?

Author's Note: I'm a day late, I know, but this fic is for the BG3 Holiday Fluffle 2023, hosted by @justporo with the prompt "Getting Cozy"!

The chill that had settled over many of your nights in the last few months was slowly creeping its way into your days, infiltrating you and your motley crew through brisk winds that could cut through any armor and lay clothes, chilling you all to your very bones. The campfire became the favorite place of every one of your traveling companions - even Astarion, who usually preferred to observe the group’s frivolities from the entrance of his tent. But this evening, the aloof vampire had firmly wedged himself between you and your resident wizard, Gale, on one of the logs in front of the roaring flames. 

“There’s a perfectly clear spot next to Lae’zel, you know.” Gale mumbled, clearly unhappy with the current seating arrangements. 

“That seat could get me decapitated and I personally prefer to keep such beauty soundly attached, thank you very much.” Astarion replied haughtily, turning his nose up at the wizard’s suggestion before scooting closer to you, affronted. 

“Rightly assumed, spawn.” Lae’zel spat, not so much as glancing up from her soup bowl.

“Hah!” Astarion exclaimed triumphantly, sending a taunting expression Gale’s way as he wrapped his shawl tighter around his already cold body. 

“Well, I’m very glad you’ve joined us tonight, Stari.” you said, opening your arm to him and allowing him to snuggle close, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as your warmth enveloped him. “And Gale, thank you so much for the wonderful meal. I always forget I'm sleeping on the ground when you fix your soup.” 

The compliment settled in Gale’s cheeks as they tinged pink and a smile graced his lips for the first time since Astarion had forced the two of you apart. “Why thank you, Tav.” he sent a charming smile your way over the mess of white curls between you. “You flatter me too much.” 

“Yes, she does.” Lae’zel replied curtly, although she made no effort to hide her empty bowl. 

“Nah, this shit’s awesome, Gale.” Karlach piped up, already filling up her bowl for the third time. “Anybody need a warm-up?” 

“Me, if you would, Karlach.” Shadowheart passed her bowl across the fire to the tiefling, who grabbed it enthusiastically and held it between her palms as the flames beneath her skin crackled and popped to life for a few seconds before simmering down again. The contents of the bowl were now steaming as Karlach passed it back over to Shadowheart, who let out a pleased groan when the warmth hit her fingertips. 

“Thank you all.” Gale said, a pleased smile on his lips. “I’m glad I could deliver a measure of culinary satisfaction to our treacherously meager living accommodations.” 

“Darling, just say “thank you for the dick-stroking” and be done with it.” Astarion drawled, his eyes having lazily fallen closed once your fingers had wound their way into his hair. 

“I’ll have you know,” Gale’s voice rose as he spoke over Karlach and Shadowheart who had burst out laughing., “My honed verbosity is one of the most prevalent things that earned me a place as one of the most well-respected voices of wisdom in Waterdeep, and beyond.” 

“Oh yes, it was your tongue; of that I’m certain.” Astarion murmured, half asleep, and you bit down on the inside of your lip to keep the giggle from escaping as Karlach and Shadowheart descended into fits of cackling once again, while Lae’zel allowed the ghost of a smile to cross her lips. You even noticed Wyll choking back a chuckle over his soup. 

Gale shook his head disapprovingly, and you thought things may have gone too far until an amused smile crept across the wizard’s face and he shot you a quick glance with mirth dancing in his eyes. You smiled back at him, the chill of the evening all but melted away in the presence of your unlikely group of friends. 

After the fire had long since died, and many of your companions had retired to their own bedrolls in the shelter of their tents, you helped Gale clean up around the campfire, stacking bowls in on each other - deciding to wait for the warmth of the sun before taking them to the river to wash them out - and gathering the extra blankets to hoard for personal use. 

Astarion sat idly by, book in hand, while you both worked, only looking up from the pages and stretching languidly when you paused in front of him. “Well, darling, are you ready to hide away and curl up in our own little cocoon for the evening?” he cooed, batting his long eyelashes at you demurely. 

“Come on, Astarion, just say you’re desperate for a cuddle and be done with it.” Gale appeared over your shoulder smiling, pleased to have been given the chance to throw the words back in the vampire’s face. 

“Actually,” you stepped in front of Gale and swatted at him playfully. “Gale’s got a new volume of that Dark Elf tales I’ve been reading as of late, and he wanted to read a few chapters with me before we went our separate ways. Would you like to join us? I know how much you enjoy those stories.”

Astarion chortled dismissively, rolling his eyes. “I think I’d prefer freezing to death than getting anywhere near the “wizard of Waterdeep”’s personal stash.” 

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders and turning away. “Your choice. I’ll see you back in my tent afterwards either way. Although,” you pause, flipping your hair over your shoulder to match his dramatics. “It will be much warmer in Gale’s tent because we currently have all of the extra blankets. I do hope you’ll reconsider.” you teased, mimicking the vampire’s tonal lilt as you hoisted a few of the remaining blankets over your shoulder and walked off. In a few long strides, you caught up with Gale, who was struggling with his own bundle of blankets. 

“Do you think he’ll drop by?” his voice came out muffled, his face fully blocked from your vision by a mountain of fluff.

A giggle bubbled out of you, and you patted some of the blankets away from his eyes. A muffled “thank you” reached your ears. “I don’t know, but I hope so. I do wish he didn’t keep to himself so often; he shouldn’t be alone. But he has to choose to let in the warmth himself - and not just mine.” Gale nodded quietly - a rare occurrence - and led the way to his tent. 

You were ceaselessly amazed by the sheer number of books Gale Dekarios was able to keep with him; shelves upon shelves lined with volumes - everything from A Comprehensive History of Waterdeep to The Practicality of Learning the Weave and more - just waiting to dazzle you with the wonders inside. However, the books that caught your eye were front and center, at a perfect height for you - done intentionally, you had no doubt - was the Dark Elf trilogy, finally completed with a stunning hardback edition of Sojourn with a beautifully crafted image of the drow himself gracing the book jacket. 

“Gods, Gale, wherever did you find it?” you murmured softly, stroking the spine tenderly. 

"Ah, a wizard never reveals his secrets. But let’s just say, I do still have some influence in some of the cities we’ve passed through thus far, and was able to get my hands on a nice copy, just for you."

You clutched the book to your chest, beaming up at him from where you stood. "Thank you, Gale. Shall we read?" His heart skipped a beat, he thought, as he nodded and sat down amidst his pile of pillows and blankets and you settled in between his legs, your back pressing warmly against his chest as his arms wrapped around your front before his mind could even catch up with him. 

“Are- are you sure you and Astarion are just friends?” the words slipped from his lips and he cringed at himself, a large part of him fearing the question would bring you to your senses and he’d lose this intimate connection he’d found with you.

“No, I’m not.” you admitted softly and his heart dropped into his stomach, his arms wrapping tighter around you in anticipation of the loss. “But I’ve told him that I have feelings for you too, and I’ve told him that while I’m patient enough to wait for him, he needs to tell me to wait for him before I will. I’ve…” you paused, sniffling a little as the emotions welled up inside of you. “I’ve had my heart broken a lot by being led on, or by waiting for people who, in the end, chose someone else; someone more-” 

“Hey, shhh don’t do that.” Gale whispered in your ear, planting a chaste kiss there and squeezing you tight. “You’re plenty enough as you are, alright?” You nodded, breathing deep before continuing.

“I told him how much I care for him, and how much I’d like to have more with him. But I was also honest and told him how much I care for you, so I’ll tell you what I told him. If you need time, tell me to wait for you. Hopefully you’ll listen.” you mumbled the last part so softly that Gale could have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention. But your words, your touch, your presence was his whole world right now, and he couldn’t possibly miss the sadness and longing left hanging in the air once you fell quiet. 

“Well… I hope he’ll come around soon. But in the meantime, I don’t need to wait. I know my answer right now.” he murmured against your ear, reveling in the shudder that traveled the length of your spine in his hold. You turned your head just enough to lock your penetrating gaze with his, waiting for him to say the words. You wouldn’t settle for interpretations; not any longer. “I care for you, greatly, Tav. And if you find it in that beautiful heart of yours to save a place for me, I’d gladly reside there for the rest of my days.” 

“Gale,” you whispered, your eyes clouding over with unshed tears of relief that flooded you like a sudden storm. He caught the emotions with his lips on yours, alleviating some of the weight of the emotional burdens that you had carried with you for all too long, and a sob escaped into his mouth. He swallowed the pain and lapped it up with his eager tongue, desperate to comfort your aching soul as his hands explored your body. You moaned softly into the kiss before pulling away, a little giggle leaving your lips as you nuzzled into his neck. You bit your bottom lip, your smile threatening to overtake the rest of your face as Gale's hands ran the lengths of your arms and back. "We're supposed to be reading." You chuckled, and Gale’s own laughter rumbled through your body in response. 

"Then let us read, my sweet." He pressed a kiss to your temple and plucked the book from your hands, opening it to the first page before conjuring a few mage hands to do the rest while he wound his arms tightly back around you and began to read aloud. 

You had enjoyed several chapters of the book together when a shadow moving outside caught your attention. You silenced Gale with a hand held in the air, your body tensing as you reached for your sword. 

"Uhm… hello?"

The soft, tentative voice coming through the flap had your muscles relaxing immediately. "Astarion," you exhaled in relief and pulled the tent flap open. He stood there in little more than his ruffled undershirt and pants, shivering ever so slightly from the cold; his eyes a catastrophic blend of hope, fear, and vulnerability as they locked onto you. "Oh gods, Stari, come in here, you're freezing!" You fussed worriedly, opening your arms to him like you so often did, and you didn't miss the sudden ease of his sharp facial features as he gave in to your embrace, pulled to it like a moth to a flame, and settled into your arms like he belonged there. He did belong there. 

You walked backwards, enough to seal the tent flap behind the elf, before your fingers found his curls as they always did, and he sighed happily as you scratched his scalp. He nuzzled closer to you, his icy cold nose finding a home in the nape of your neck as you calmed him. "I'm so glad you came." You mumbled into his hair and he merely hummed in response, pulling you flush against him and trailing his hands up and down your spine. After several quiet moments of quiet repose in each other's arms, you pulled back enough to look Astarion in the eyes. 

"I-" He spluttered, his gaze flicking to Gale then back to you. "I really wanted to get a look at this book of yours, Gale. As Tav said, I enjoy the dark drow stories myself." He brushed some wrinkles out of his white shirt awkwardly and you took the opportunity to shoot Gale a deadly glare. Play along, it said. Or else.

"Of course." Gale chirped, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Well, it truly is a beauty, isn't it Tav?"

"Definitely." You smiled in silent thanks and reached for Astarion's hand, pressing the pad of a finger into one of his and allowing him to do the rest. "Come on. We're on chapter 5, but I'll give you a summary of what's happened so far." You sat down beside Gale, and Astarion beside you, and you launched into the details of what Astarion had missed in the first five chapters, forgetting the world around you and all of its present dangers: the tadpoles, the mindflayers, the Absolute, all of it, and diving into the adventure yet again. Gale glanced over at the new visitor in his tent, initially with dubiosity; he'd had no intention of sharing you if that's what it came down to. However, his resolve wavered ever so slightly once he took in the vampire’s face as he looked at you. Gale didn't know Astarion could even look like that: his features softened, the harsh lines and wrinkles missing from his pale face, and his eyes wide with wonder and- Gale paused, realization slamming into him at full force as the vermillion glint of the vampire's eyes in the candlelight revealed his secrets. Gale recognized that look. It was the same look he had in his eyes when he looked at you. 

Love. 

And as he watched, Gale saw the same look in your eyes, no matter which man they were trained upon. "Godsdamn it." He thought. "What in the hells am I going to do?" 

"That's all that's happened so far." You clapped your hands together as you finished catching Astarion up. "Shall we continue?" You turned your head to Gale who said nothing, only nodded and prepared to cast another set of Mage Hands. 

"W-wait, for a moment." Astarion stopped him hesitantly. "I'd- well, I'd like to say something first, Tav." 

"Oh, of course." You looked back at him, your eyes wide and curious. 

"I've been thinking about this for awhile, but I never really knew how to put it into words. However, I- ugh this is so ridiculously awkward with the wizard here too." He buried his face in his hands. 

"I can leave for a moment if you-"

"Gods. No, it involves you, sit down." Astarion huffed, waving his hand in Gale's direction. 

"Very well." Gale remained as he was, perched precariously on a pillow, his full attention on the vampire spawn. 

"I've realized lately that, that I've never had someone who cares for me before - not that I can remember, anyway. And no one that could possibly measure up to you." He said the words to your fingers, which he had wrapped up in his own and was fiddling with tenderly in his lap. "I don't want to lose you, but I didn’t know how to tell you so, even when you told me how. It didn't feel quite right, it didn't fit. But I can say it now." He tilted his head up and met your eyes steadily. "I care for you, Tav. I- I need time to process whatever this is between us. But I don't want you to think I don't want you, because I do. And, if that package comes with a certain pompous wizard," he leveled Gale with a humored smirk. "Then I believe I could be alright with that arrangement. As long as he plays by the same rules we do, that is." 

Gale shot you a quizzical look. "You have to be patient and respect all of his boundaries." You explained, and Gale’s face fell into a sorrowful understanding. 

"Of course I would respect your wishes, Astarion. I may be the victim of some over-active hubris, a wildly inconvenient condition, and an intellect much larger than my single head can contain, but I am not a man without respect and understanding." 

"So… by all of that you mean yes." Astarion quipped and Gale chuckled. 

"Yes, Astarion, I mean yes." 

"Wait, hold on a moment." You sat up on your knees between them, looking back and forth at the two men you'd come to love so much, settling on the wizard. "Gale, are you saying you'd be alright with a 3 person relationship? I didn’t know that was something you'd ultimately agree to." 

"No definite answers yet. I'm working on it. Much like Astarion, the thought of being without you is slowly proving too much to bear. And perhaps having you around won't be too bad in the end, Astarion." 

"Oh thank you kindly for those inspiring compliments, Gale." Astarion rolled his eyes, but the growing smile on his lips told the truth of his thoughts on the matter, and you squeezed his hand with a sudden giddiness. 

"Anytime." Gale made a mock bow before sitting back down in the mess of pillows. "Now, are we going to read or shall I kick you both back out into the cold?" His mage hands appeared and he handed them the book. 

"You wouldn't!" You gasped playfully, scooting closer to him.

"Yes, yes, you're right, I wouldn't. Come here, both of you. If you're going to see the drawings you'd better get close." You resumed your place between Gale's legs and opened your arms to Astarion, who crawled in between yours and curled up against your chest like a cat, his head resting on your shoulder, glancing up at the book every now and again to admire the artwork, then planting tender kisses along your jawline before settling back into you. 

After several chapters more and an hour had gone by, Astarion purred softly against your chest while Gale rubbed your arm with one hand and Astarion's back with the other. Your hands were where they often found purchase - amidst soft white curls that were as light as air to your touch - , massaging small circles on the elf's head as he dozed, and you didn’t know how you could possibly be happier. You sighed blissfully, allowing your eyes to finally fall closed. 

"Goodnight Gale, goodnight Astarion." You mumbled, already halfway gone. 

"Goodnight, Tav." Gale whispered in your ear as you faded into a euphoric sleep, curled up between the men you loved; the men who loved you; the men who could possibly one day learn to love each other.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #gale fanfic #gale. #baldurs gate #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 gale #bloodweave #bloodweave + tav #gale x f!tav #gale x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female oc #gale x female reader #bg3 holiday fluffle 2023

[lemonmaid]

Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

A/N: Gotchu pookie!! Sorry if this looks rushed, I had a hard time writing this

Warnings: angst, miscommunication, female aligned reader, bodyshaming, self-hatred, mentions of teen pregnancy, everyone is OOC too much for my taste I apologize for that.

Prom.

If there was one thing (Name) hated, it was waiting for a text. It felt vulnerable, and it felt weak or pathetic really.

[You] > Suki

Hey, what's your plans this weekend?

Read 11:56 am

(Name) sighed, scrolling through Instagram, seeing the girls from her class post sneak peaks of their prom dress.

"SISSSSYYYYYYYYY!" (Name) flinched as Yuuji jumped into her lap.

"Yuuji, don't scare me like that!" (Name) sighed as she removed the five year old from her lap.

Yuuji pouted, "You're supposed to be spending time with me!!! Not uncle suki!". He huffed.

Three years ago.

"Ew why does he look like that" Sukuna scowled.

Sukuna let out of a cry of pain as he was hit on the back of the back of the head. "Quiet boy!" Watsuke yelled.

The family was in shambles at the moment. Jin calling Sukuna at 3 a.m. saying that a girl that he met a party a while back, hit him up saying she was in labor, que the family freaking out and lucky for you, since you slept over, you got to see Sukuna's new nephew!!

Don't ask about the custody battle.

"Where is Sukuna anyways? I thought he was supposed to be babysitting you, not leaving me with you".

Yuujis face filled with dread.

"Not that I don't like hanging out with you!!! You're like family to me!!".

Yuuji got off the couch to go to his toybin, "I don't knooowww he said he was going to hang with....Ur-... Urau".

(Name) felt sad, "Uraume?".

"Yeah!! Them!". Yuuji handed (Name) an action figure, "Okay, you, so you can be captain, but I have to be Spiderman!".

"If you're not going to let us see the dress we are leaving".

'Let's go shopping together they said! It will be fun! We'll get boba and lunch!!' (Name) mumbled, then groaned before moving the curtain. "I feel like a pig in a dress, what's the theme again?".

Suguru looked up from his phone, "I'm sure it's like, 'Stary night'.

Satoru came out of the dressing room next to (Name), wearing a dress, "Suguru check it out! I look like a chic!!". Suguru looked at Satoru with disinterest while Satoru laughed like a manic.

The two boys erupted in laughter, Shoko appearing towards (Name)'s side, "ignore those two, you look great".

When (Name) looked at herself in the dress, she could only see her flaws, like how her boob's didn't fit properly or how it didn't hug the right places. "Maybe this isn't the one".

A bang on the wall intrupted (Name) from her thoughts, "Hurrryyyy up!!! Suguru wants go to the arcade!" Satoru whined. (Name) frowned, sighing and taking off the dress .

"Oh my God, yes!!!". Cheers and claps echoed the hallway, another prom proposal accepted. (Name) watched the happy couple celebrate down the hall, "gross right?". (Name) whipped her head around to see Sukuna.

(Name) smiled softly, "I think it's sweet".

Sukuna hummed.

"Unlike a certain someone who dumped me with babysitting duty".

"Tsk." Sukuna grabbed your bag, "AP Chemistry, right?". (Name) nodded before quickly ran behind him.

"Class, please settle down, I understand prom is in a few days, but I need you guys to finish this senior project, which is due next week."

Uraume sat next to (Name), "Did you grab the beakers?"

"Oh no sorry, let me grab them real quick".

"It's fine, I'll grab us some goggles while I'll grab them".

"Okay, thanks Uraume".

It's not that (Name) hated Uraume or disliked them. It was just- maybe envy? Uraume went to the same middle school as Sukuna, while (Name) only went to elementary together. Maybe it was a good thing (Name) didn't go to middle school with Sukuna and Uraume since they both got suspended....

"Hey are you listening?".

(Name) blushed, "oh, sorry, I zoned out"

Uraume nodded, "I was asking if you grab your prom dress yet... you know small talk".

"Oh... not yet, what about you?".

Uraume turned on the bunsen burner, "Well, I'm not going, but Sukuna wants to ditch prom for some frat party close by-".

Static. (Name) suddenly couldn't hear Uraume's monotone voice. Why was she upset? I mean, Sukuna was never the type to go to a dance or school get-together. Why is she upset? Why can't she connect to Sukuna like she used to? Why doesn't she get invited out-

Uraume looked over at (Name), "(Name) are you okay?".

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just so tired".

"So are you going?". Shoko sat on (Name)'s bed watching the girl mope in bed.

"I don't know Shoko... is there a point?".

Shoko sighed, "you know, not going because of one boy is kinda pathetic"

(Name) rolled hed eyes, "Wow, thanks."

"You could go with me. And Suguru-"

(Name) was slient, "I don't even like how I look".

"I do".

(Name) gagged, "Stop it Shoko".

Shoko was quiet for a minute, she walked to (Name)'s window, opening it, then grabbing a ciggerate from her purse,"Listen, we care about you. And it sucks to see you down because of one guy. Don't ruin this experience by not going. "

(Name) bit her lip, clutching the comforter tighter, "I guess...".

Shoko took the ciggerate out of her mouth, flicking it out of the window then going back to lay down next to (Name) on the bed, "There's my favorite girl, let's go last minute shopping with Utahime."

"You don't to dress for anyone! Jesus, pick something that fits you!". Utahime ranted as she went through the clothing rack.

Utahime was literally foaming at the mouth, "No, that color doesn't suit your tone- Definitely not feathered- Shoko!!!! Did you find anything in theme?".

Shoko looked up from her phone, looking at a clothing rack. "Here, you can't go wrong with black-"

"Black is for formals and funerals."

"She could be a black hole."

"Shoko no."

(Name) looked at the black sparkly dress, it was long and looked fitted. "Um, this looks like it hugs".

"That's the point-"

Utahime looked at the dress, "Well, go try it on!"

(Name) was shoved into a dressing room.

'Why am I so nervous? And sweaty, Jesus christ (Name) get it together. "

The dress was beautiful, really, but in (Name)'s mind, all she could see was the flaws. It was like a black oozing leaking from her brain and affecting her body, small things making bigger outcomes.

Shoke helped herself into the dressing room, "SHOKO!".

"What your dressed".

"What if I wasn't?!".

"You look amazing to me".

(Name)'s face went red, "oh hush!".

"I think you should get it"

(Name) looked at herself in the mirror. It was pretty, and it did kinda made feel better about herself.

"Sse you're smiling, that's a good sign!". Shoko wrapped her arms around (Name)'s neck.

Prom night was the worst, (Name) felt like she didn't deserve this or Shoko, she forced herself to get ready and everytime the time got closer, the temptation to just cancel plans got harder.

(Name) looked at herself in the mirror, she looked amazing but felt like shit. (Name)'s phone rang, echoing in the room.

"Hello?"

"Hey are you home?"

(Name)'s heart stopped, "Sukuna?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you call me?".

"...are you home?"

"I mean, yeah, but-"

"Cool, I'm coming in"

"Wait what-".

The line died and the door opened.

"Sukuna! You can't just-".

Sukuna was quiet, "dont call me that please".

(Name) was shocked, and Sukuna was very out of character, "you dyed your hair".

"I did".

The two stood in silence.

"Are... you going to prom?".

(Name) crossed her arms, "No I just like to dress pretty".

"You're beautiful".

Sukuna took a deep breathe, "I don't deserve you. You've been there for me and I haven't been there for you".

"...Suki"

"I'm so selfish, I want you. I don't wanna go to prom and have to share your attention"

"Now Sukuna... you can't have (Name) to yourself all recess.... what if she wants to play with her other friends- "

Sukuna looked at the teacher with a glare, the five year old's face was red, "NO!"

"Now, Sukuna... that's not how we express our anger let's go to the quiet corner for now".

(Name) watched as Sukuna pouted in the corner of the room, walking to him and sitting besides him in silence.

(Name) wrapped her arms around Sukuna, "it felt like you were pushing me away.... I noticed that you were only hanging out with Uraume....I thought you two were dating for a bit".

Sukuna made a gagging noise, "ew no".

"So that's your plan... getting suspended?" Uraume looked up at Sukuna.

"Yep and I want your help".

Uraume shrugged their shoulders, "okay".

(Name) hummed, "what now?"

"Do you wanna go to prom with me?".

"Hmm, I kinda didn't want to go anyways, maybe we can just chill here".

A ringing intrupted the two.

'Crap I forgot about Shoko'.

"Why dont you go, save me a dance?"

(Name) smiled softly, "sure".

Sukuna walked (Name) to Shoko's car, grabbing her hand before she could get in, "I... I like you alot... it's hard to... describe..".

(Name)'s heart fluttered, a smile grew upon her face, "I love you too Suki".

Small snip,

"Unlce Suki!!"

"What brat".

"I wanna be just like you when I grow up".

Sukuna looked at the three year old with distain.

"What makes you think that-"

"We have the same hair color and and the same birth marks-"

Sukuna dyed his hair black that night, causing Jin and their father to try and calm an inconsolable Yuuji.

#sukuna x reader #jjk modern au #x female reader #jjk x reader #baby yuuji #uncle sukuna #sukuna ryoumen x reader

[euijoosorangeslice]

Turned into the Mafias Maid (part two)

warnings: tying up, dress up, handjobs.

Your eyes slowly opened, feeling a slight burn all over your body. You looked down, noticing your hands were tied to the counter in front of you. Your legs were tied to the chair tightly, and as you looked closer there were bolts tight on the legs of your chairs. You started to struggle, grunting loudly.

You heard the door open, hard footsteps walking in. "Good morning, sweetheart." A tall, handsome man holding a tray in his hand. "Who are you? Let me the fuck out of here!" You screeched, the man giggling. "Kei. But you'll be calling me sir. And your name?" You gave him an angry look, turning your head to the side. "Y/n. Well, you seem to not be in a talking mood. Here's breakfast. Sausage, some hotcakes and some orange juice. No pulp, just how you like it, right?"

"How did you- just let me go okay! I'm sorry for whatever fucked up shit I did to land here but whatever it is I'll pay you off!"

He smirked, chuckling softly. "Sweetie, you've got less than a hundred dollars in your wallet. Sort of why your here actually. Per say, a job opportunity." You ignored him, shouting off his ear. "Oh my god you fucking creep, you went through my stuff?"

"Well, we made your bedroom just like it was before. Whenever your ready to be a a good girl we can let you free." You blushed roughly at his use of words. Being a virgin, any dirty talk (even unintentional), set you off hard. "Oh? My cutie likes being called a good girl." Fuck, you were getting quickly wet from his soft talk.

"Alright , I need you to change into this." Kei ordered, helping you out of your restraints. He handed you a bundle of clothes, a headband above it. "What the hell is that?" You cringed, Kei smirking. "This is your uniform. Change. I even brought you new panties. And don't worry, I checked your cup size." You blushed, thinking of him going through your bras and seeing your lingerie.

"Okay, get out so I can change." You mumbled, pulling off your sweater. "I have to watch you babe. Make sure you don't do anything dumb." Sighing loudly, you didn't hesitate to get undressed. Well, getting naked in front of a hot dude can't be that bad, right? You took off your bra, letting your chest free. Kei whistled, staring at your chest. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." You took off your sweats, removing your panties as well.

"Trust me, I will." He pulled his phone out snapping a photo of your naked photo. You grumbled, putting on the lace panties and bra he brought you and wearing the uniform. "Ugh, do you guys have a weird kink or something? Seriously, a maid costume?" You had gloves on your hands, wearing a headband and thigh highs.

"Don't try anything dumb, alright? Just be a good little girl." He seductively whispered, you slightly whimpering. Nicholas opened the door, seeing you in your flustered state.

"Did Kei tell you about your ahem...terms and conditions?" You ignored him, still pissed off. "Sorry about earlier. But hey, I brought you this from your apartment." You looked up. seeing a stuffed bunny. "O-oh. thanks. So what is this dumb terms and conditions or whatever?" You pulled it from his hands, caressing it's ears.

Nicholas walked you over to your new bedroom. It was a perfect replica of your bedroom, with a few more decorations. "Right, well...let's get the rest of the crew in here." "C-crew? There's more of you guys?"

Right as you said that, a group of guys came in your door. "This is y/n." You ignored his droning on, staring straight for this hot group of guys standing in front of you. You bit your lip, playing with your fingers. You were examining this short, bunny like boy in front of you. He was adorable, glasses and all. You held long eye contact with him, seeing him blush. You looked down, noticing he was growing hard. Nicholas noticed your infatuation, smiling to himself. "Harua, you really like Y/n don't you?"

Harua looked around, noticing most of the boys were staring at him. 'Oh y-yeah. Sorry! She's just really pretty." He sort of cowarded into the corner, a taller boy with silver hair pushing him out of it. "It's okay. I think Y/N could help you get a little help with your problem?" He lightly cupped Harua's crotch, making him whimper. "T-taki! Don't do that."

"Well, this could be a good learning experience for you Y/N. Can you give our pure little Harua a quick tug?" Kei teased the both of you, Harua whining. "You really don't have to do that." Harua pleaded, Nicholas rolling his eyes. "It's okay to want to be pleasured Harua. We can leave if that'll make you more comfortable?" Nicholas patted his back, heading for the door. "Wait! D-don't leave I'm just really nervous right now."

You confidently walked up to Harua, grabbing the front of his pants. "I think I can help you. I've only ever done this once before." You blushed, the room going silent. "Fuck, fine. Just, let me get off." You smiled, pulling down Harua's pants and his boxers. You grabbed his cock, slowly turning your wrists around his base. "Cute, you're uncut." You whispered, smiling softly at him. Harua looked down in your eyes, feeling his cock twitch in your hand. "Ack...please? I just want to t-to cum all over your pretty face."

Harua moaned, you smirking at him falling apart. "Do it, hm? Your just so sensitive aren't you baby." You sped up your hand, seeing precum build on his tip. "A-ah slow down! Your gonna make me-" You flinched, feeling the sticky substance hit your face. "Fuck, that was super embarrassing." He pulled up his pants, sliding back into the corner. "Wow, you really just did that in front of anyone? I have a lot of hope in the new hire."

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

ik i forgot to put something but it deleted and i didn't feel like replacing it.

prev//next

#&team imagines #&team #&team x reader #&team smut #&team hard hours #&team k #&team nicholas #&team taki #&team harua

[immajustvibehere]

Logs and Campfires

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

drabble: fluff, pining

summary: A day at the camp comes to an end with all of you gathered around the campfire, singing and chatting. When you refuse to go to bed, you fall asleep next to Arthur, who's the last one remaining after everybody else has gone to sleep.

my masterlist

1200 words, less than 10 minutes reading time

Many had gathered around the campfire. There was no particular reason, just a another peaceful and warm day had passed at Horseshoe Overlook. Everyone squeezed together to make space for yet more people finishing a day's work and joining the group. Jack was dangling his little feet from Abigail's lap. His eyes already falling shut. Uncle was tried to talk Bill into leaving the only available chair to him, the rest had found a place on a log or bedroll.

You were happily seated on the floor, the log on which Arthur was seated next to you served as your back support. John and Hosea also shared the log with Arthur. The bickering between Arthur and John often made you giggle or role your eyes. This was why you had taken a seat on the ground. You were glad you didn't sit in the way of the occasional nasty looks or teasings they threw at each other. The chores today had been plenty and exhausting, but you tried to never skip a night spent together with the gang around the campfire, or you'd bitterly regret it when Karen fills you in on what you had missed the next day.

After Javier had played the guitar and Jack had fallen asleep to his singing, Abigail excused herself. The free place was immediately taken up by Tilly, who started to tell a funny story about her past. You simply listened, being too weary to come up with witty remarks or comments, even when Sean started to mock you for being boring and way too quiet. At some point, a blanket was thrown over you by Hosea. You got comfortable, tucking yourself in and listening to the conversation with closed eyes.  

There were only a few around the fire now. Arthur hadn't moved an inch since he had taken his place next to you, lazily smoking a cigarette. You had realized way earlier in the evening that he was careful not to drop any ashes on you, contrary to John who you had to kick about three times after a small pile of hot ashes had been pretty much shoved into your face. But John had called it a night half an hour ago. It was only Arthur, Hosea, Charles, who hadn’t said anything in a while, and a snoring Uncle. You listened to one of Hosea's stories...you thought. You weren't really sure.

In your tired state, everything sounded monotonous. The voices of the men had become a random mix which you couldn’t make out any longer. You were long past the point where you actually understood what was being talked about. Though you tried hard to stay awake, you didn't have the energy to stand up and walk to bed, you wanted to be involved so badly. Charles wished everyone a good night, but you had dozed off and didn't even realize he'd said something. Hosea and Arthur both watched in amusement how your head wobbled around, before your whole body tipped to one side, only caught by Arthur's legs which had been there, and maybe had shuffled a bit closer, over the course of the evening.

Hosea looked at you, a tired smile on his old face. "I think I might call it a night too. Are you going to wake her?", Hosea asked, standing up and dusting his pants off. Arthur looked down to you, his back hunched and head resting on a hand that found support on his knee. "I'll just finish the cigarette", he mumbled, taking a small drag. Hosea nodded before he headed to his assigned sleeping space. The old man smiled yet again, coughing silently when he had changed to cozier clothes and had washed his face, and still saw Arthur’s silhouette next to yours.

Needless to say, Arthur finished his cigarette, but remained seated. He watched you for a few minutes, wondering, dreaming. Ever so often he'd sigh and scold himself in a whisper for staring at you. A creepy old bastard, he called himself. Not a speck better than old Uncle. And yet he couldn't resist. After he had averted his gaze, it would always find its way back to you. The way your breathing moved the blanket, the way the flickering fire made your skin shine. You looked so peaceful, so happy. His fingers slowly wandered closely to your head until he lightly touched one of your locks. It wasn't much different from a breeze caressing your hair. Again - Arthur sighed than scolded himself and retracted the hand.

He couldn't wake you up. Even if someone had offered him money, he still would have refused disturbing your sleep. Arthur sat up and looked around: the camp was asleep. He couldn't let you sleep here, it would be too uncomfortable. With a lot of stressing about it beforehand, Arthur shuffled around, took you into his arms and lifted you up, as carefully and slowly as he could. Not waking you was the ultimate goal, but he knew he had failed when, after walking a few steps, he heard you sighing loudly. Looking down at you, two tired, half-opened eyes stared back.

"I'm jus' gettin' you to bed, sweetheart", Arthur whispered.

He had never called you sweetheart before, and honestly, he hadn't had any intention of doing so. It had just slipped out, like it was the most natural thing to call you sweetheart. He blushed at the realization. Arthur hadn't wanted to call you sweetheart, because deep down, this is exactly what he wanted - but he didn't want to get his hopes up. But as ignorant as he could be, even he had noticed that over the last couple of weeks you had been unusually keen on being close to him. Always sitting next to him, offering a smile and greetings when he returned to camp or loading his plate extra full with a wink. Maybe this is why his facade had slowly started to crumble.

"Thank you", you mumbled back.

Arthur just caught the remains of a fading smile on your lips, before your eyes were shut again and your head peacefully rested against his chest. He laid you down on your bedroll as gently as he could, just in case you had dozed of entirely since opening your eyes. But there you were, shuffling on your bedroll, gripping the blanket that Arthur tried to fix. When he saw you well tucked in, he felt satisfied as well as...somewhat disappointed. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to watch you sleep, make sure you were safe and well. He wanted you in his arms again. If it were in any way acceptable to pick you up and carry you around again, he'd would do it. Or better: lie down next to you.

But of course he couldn't. It was delightful to see you so undistrubed, no features of worry or stress on your face. Arthur knew he would ruin it. Ruin you. Reflecting on his past relationships in dark nights like this always made him feel like the intruder; the one at fault when all went downhill. He couldn't let that happen to you.

"Arthur, I...", you started in a whisper. Your eyes closed; your limbs relaxed. You were more asleep than awake, yet you somehow managed to hook your fingers into his sleeve. This small gesture kept Arthur in place. It was a weight unimaginably heavy. With your finger hooked into his clothes, he couldn't stand up, couldn't be the one to break the contact. "Yes?", he asked with hitched breath. His intrusive thoughts were gone as if you had slapped him in the face and redirected his attention. The way you whispered his name had him on edge. He was expecting something. Something that never came because you were fast asleep already.

In a feeble attempt he whispered your name, but he knew you wouldn't answer. What was it you wanted to say? The little spark of hope in his heart flickered and fought. Maybe...just maybe...? But it's late now. He'd have to wait for an answer.

------x

I know this might need some re-working but I was honest with myself and knew I wouldn't do it so that's that. And I'm overthinking lol.

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

[beckettj]

The Heart of a Villan - Chapter 4/5

Chapter Four - A Game of Two Halves

Summary: Three-thousand miles from home, Henry drags Emma into a land she never imagined venturing to; the realm of English football. She holds no interest in the sport but when she’s approached by Villa Captain Killian Jones, she determines that there could be something in the sport for her after all.

Words: 7188

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Read on AO3

The Heart of a Villan

Summary: Three-thousand miles from home, Henry drags Emma into a land she never imagined venturing to; the realm of English football. She holds no interest in the sport but when she’s approached by Villa Captain Killian Jones, she determines that there could be something in the sport for her after all.

For the first time in a long, long time, Emma doesn’t wake up alone. There’s the warmth of a body pressed against her, an arm wrapped around her, and muscular legs entangled with hers. It takes her groggy mind a few seconds to recall the events of the previous night but a smile creeps onto her face upon remembering. Killian. She shifts in the bed, turning to face him, discovering he’s already awake, his blue eyes stary – still half-asleep himself – but fixed on her.

“I thought you weren’t staying,” Emma mumbles as she stifles a yawn.

He had been adamant, as they’d lain there – breathless, hearts racing, passion soaring – that he had to get back to the team hotel, then they’d dived into more kisses and cuddles with roaming hands, unable to keep them from each other, proving a distraction from all other thoughts.

“I couldn’t bring myself to leave you, love,” he tells her.

She hopes it’s not obvious that she’s melting at the huskiness of his morning voice and the way he gently presses kisses against her forehead.

It’s a dangerous invitation; to have him all over again, right there, right then, especially with his hands creeping suggestively under the covers, his fingers dancing against her skin as they strayed over her hips. She chuckles softly and musters what little restraint she can to lightly push him back to his side of the bed.

His side.

She could get used to that.

Except that she can’t; vacation’s nearly over and he was just some vacation fun; a one-time thing spiralling slightly beyond that.

“Spoilsport,” he grumbles playfully, his pillow mumbling his words.

“You have a game,” she reminds him.

“You have a flight,” he returns.

“Not ‘til tomorrow. We have tonight,” she points out.

“It’s not enough,” he huffs; he sits upright in the bed and twists his body to face her. “I want more than that. Last night was the best night of my life, not the sex – though that was bloody amazing – but the time we spent just talking, learning about each other; we let each other in. Now, I don’t want to let you back out and it might be selfish and it might prove difficult, but I can’t just let you fly off without telling you that I… I want to find a way to make this work.”

She stares at him, running his words over in her head. She had let him in, very quickly at that; setting some kind of record in the process. She’d had many relationships end over the years because she was ‘too detached’ or men felt ‘pushed away’ from the walls she had built. For the first eight years of her life, she had been the girl abandoned by not one but two sets of parents – the very people who were supposed to love her most – and whilst Mary Margaret and David had done a lot to repair that damage, trusting people not to repeat that early cycle was something she couldn’t bring herself to do.

Except, apparently, with Killian. She had poured her history out to him without even thinking; his endeavour to help those experiencing what she once had making her feel safe, making him feel trustworthy. It became more than that. In the most unlikely of places – a private pod overlooking the vibrant city of London, reserved especially for her by a millionaire athlete she’d only recently called an egotistical jock – she’d found, for the first time in her life, someone who truly and wholly understood where she’d come from.

It was supposed to be a bit of fun – she was on vacation – but she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to give up something, someone, so seemingly right for her.

And he wants to make it work.

“You mean you want to try long distance?” she checks.

“I want you,” he maintains. “And if that means long distance and dates over screens and phone sex and travelling back and forth over the pond, then so be it. You’re worth the lonely nights and the longing heart in the time between seeing each other. The only question that remains, is am I worth all that to you?”

“Yes!” she exclaims, perhaps a little too fast, perhaps giving him a clue as to how much she cares for him already but she doesn’t care. “Yes, of course!”

She throws her arms around him, gripping on tightly but, for the first time, there’s no desperation to the way her hands cling to his body, for she knows they’re not on borrowed time, it’s not one of the last chances she has to do so; she’ll have him naked, in her bed, many more times.

“You’re amazing, Emma,” Killian tells her.

He leans in and kisses her gently and it’s new and calm and the best yet, a stark contrast to the fierce, lust-fuelled actions of the previous night’s endeavours; they have the new-found luxury of time.

“Mom! Mom!”

Or not.

Emma inwardly groans at Henry’s developing habit of interrupting them. Killian pulls back but Emma grabs him for one last, quick kiss.

“Are you in there? The door’s locked!”

Emma throws herself back in the bed. She will let him in. She needs to let him in, if only to prevent him from waking the whole of the hotel up with his shouts but, before she can, she needs to find her clothes and to do that she has to pry herself from the temptations of the bed.

“Mom!”

“Henry, it’s early.”

David’s tired grumbles can be heard just as clearly as Henry’s shouts. Emma is suddenly painfully aware of how thin the adjoining wall is and can only hope that her parents and Henry were fast asleep by the time she and Killian got back.

“The door is locked! We haven’t locked this door in the whole two weeks we’ve been here, and my video games and comics are in there!”

“Calm down. I’m sure we have a key around here somewhere.”

Emma’s eyes widen. She’d forgotten she’d given her parents the second key to the room – not ready to entrust it into the possession of a ten-year-old kid. She scrambles upright in the bed. The temptations need to disappear, and fast.

“Go, go! You’ve got to go!” she urges Killian.

She’s pushes him slightly to aid in coaxing him out from the warmth of the covers, but he was unprepared for it and the added force sends him tumbling out of the bed, letting out a yelp when his head smacks against the bedside table during his fall to the floor.

She gasps, scrambling over to his side of the bed.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Fine, love,” he responds as he stands, the gritted teeth and the way he’s rubbing his forehead contradicting his words, but he seems adamant on eradicating her guilt for he smiles and jokes, “That’s one way to wake me up. Most women offer coffee.”

“Mary Margaret, do you know what we did with that key Emma gave us?”

“I thought you put it in your wallet.”

“I thought that too but-”

“Oh no, wait, I know!”

Emma has no time to play nurse – or linger on the provocative thoughts which flood her mind – and instead jumps out of bed, hastily gathering the thrown clothes from around the room and chucking Killian’s at him.

His pants are on swiftly and he’s missed a button on his shirt but there’s no time to fix it and she shoves her claret and blue underwear into his arms – she does not need her parents nor her son quizzing her about that one – and he stares at her, bewildered.

“What am I to do with these?” he questions with a light chuckle.

“You’ll figure something out,” she shrugs as she guides him towards the door and hisses, “Just get them away from here!”

She bundles him out of the hotel room, straight into the path of David and Henry.

Henry – unusually quiet – just stares, his eyes shifting between Killian and Emma. David has frozen, like a deer in headlights, keycard for the room held aloft in his hand, as he stares at Killian, seemingly only just putting the pieces of the locked adjoining door after a date night together, and a scowl flickers across his brow. Killian hastily shoves the lingerie back to Emma who immediately chucks it into her half-opened suitcase to the side of the door and wishes she’d thought of doing that sooner.

“Well, as much as I’d love to hang around and chat in this delightfully non-awkward atmosphere, I’m dangerously late for a pre-match briefing,” Killian speaks fast, glancing at the watch barely fastened to his wrist – the strap not properly secured in the clasp – and he manages to sound genuine when he continues, “I look forward to seeing you all later.”

He’s gone in a flash. Henry squeezes past Emma in the doorway, his mind entirely focused on getting his hands on his comics and video games, leaving Emma to face her father’s disapproving look.

“Stop judging,” Emma calls him out on it.

“I’m not-”

“The look on your face says otherwise.”

“I just…” he sighs. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do,” she insists.

“Okay then,” he concedes.

Whilst the disapproving look has gone, he turns to stare harshly down the hallway Killian had used for his escape.

--

“Henry, pull your jumper down!” Mary Margaret speaks warningly.

They’re deep in opposition territory, in the heart of one of Arsenal’s top-end hospitality sections. It’s fancy; sleek black flooring with gold grout beneath their feet, red velvet seating, an elegantly lit bar, and a complimentary cocktail upon arrival.

Henry has settled himself into one of the deep, velvet chairs, his feet barely touching the ground, slurping away at his kids cocktail. His smart, black jumper has rolled up, revealing a hint of the claret and blue soccer shirt he wore underneath. He’d insisted upon wearing something to prove his allegiance and whilst Emma saw no harm in him wearing it under the jumper, Mary Margaret is on red alert, as if she’s expecting someone to kick off at a ten-year-old kid resulting in them having to fight their way out of danger.

Henry begrudgingly pulls the bottom of his jumper down – if he had it his way, he’d be running around with his shirt fully exposed; a Villain and proud – and leans forward to set his empty glass onto the table.

“Can I have another drink before the game starts?” he asks.

Emma concedes and gets up, heading for bar. She hears footsteps behind her and glances over her shoulder to find David following her.

She huffs, “I’m fully capable of going to the bar and getting my son a drink.”

“I know you are,” he returns and sees straight through her abrupt statement, “I know you’re not a little girl anymore, I know you’re a grown woman, capable of making your own decisions.”

She stops – halfway to the bar – and turns to face him, “I sense a but.”

“Not a but, an explanation for earlier,” he tells her and he pauses, glancing towards Henry, before he reluctantly continues, “It’s just… a sportsman. Turning up unannounced. Whisking you out on a date. Spending the night. I…”

He trails off, his gaze hovering over Henry once more and Emma knows, as much as he loves his grandson, he didn’t like the events which led to his birth – events not too dissimilar from current ones – and she imagines the memories flashing before his eyes as he takes in his grandson.

“Dad. Killian’s not Neal,” she tells him assuredly. “For starters, he’s not going to cut all contact and run off to the other side of the country for a football scholarship; he doesn’t play that kind of football and he’s already in a different country with a ridiculously lucrative contract.”

Her attempt at a joke doesn’t land too well, eliciting an unconvinced, “I know…”

“Killian won’t just disappear. I know he won’t,” Emma insists.

“And I trust your judgement, Emma, I’m only cautious because I don’t want you to get hurt again,” David responds. “You may be a grown woman but you’ll always be my daughter and I’ll always want to protect you.”

“And I love that,” Emma replies gratefully. “But I don’t need your protection this time. This is different.”

--

Emma follows behind her small family as they venture into the stands in preparation for the coming kick-off. The hospitality seats are nice and padded – a vast improvement upon the hard, plastic of the Holte End seats at Villa Park. As she gets comfy in the red chair – not at all missing the claret and blue colour scheme of Villa Park – she determines it should be much nicer viewing; their seats are right on the halfway line and raised above the pitch, deeming it unlikely for any stray balls to come speeding their way. She’s determined to remain vigilant, regardless.

There’s a loud fanfare and a blast of music as the two teams make their way out onto the pitch. Her eyes are on the players in claret and blue, Killian in particular who leads his team out, holding the hand of the young mascot for the day – a boy no older than five – who’s in full strip, matching the rest of the team.

Her mind wanders to the type of father Killian may one day make, images of him dressing a newborn baby in a full claret and blue strip – little blue socks included – flashes before her eyes. The newborn morphs into a toddler, a ball at his feet, punting the ball across the garden with all of his tiny might. The toddler becomes a four-year-old, rocking a claret and blue shirt with ‘Daddy’ and ‘9’ on the back, effortlessly slotting the ball into the back of the net with Killian watching on, a huge, delighted grin on his face.

“Mom!” Henry pulls her from her daydream; he’s stood up next to her. “The man’s waiting to get past.”

He gestures to her left and she turns to see a man patiently waiting to get down their row to his seat. She apologises as she quickly stands, letting him on his way.

She sits back down and returns her focus to the pitch, finding Killian right at the centre, the ball stationary at his feet, looking to the referee and awaiting his whistle for the game to commence. The whistle goes, the ball is kicked and a huge roar erupts around the stadium; sixty-thousand people all cheering at once, it’s almost deafening and yet she’s smiles, the noise a reminder of the events at Villa Park, of her first time meeting Killian and how far they had come in the six days since.

The Villa team get off to a good start, keeping possession well, passing the ball around the back and inviting pressure on to create space for the attacking players further up the pitch. Emma amazes herself at how quickly she’s gone from perceiving the game as men chasing a ball around to actually seeing and understanding the tactics playing out in front of her. She finds herself on the edge of her seat as she watches Killian make various runs behind the Arsenal backline and has to hold back shouts of frustration at his teammates for not seeing them and playing the through ball before he falls into an offside position.

Henry told her before the game that Villa had sold out their away allocation of three-thousand tickets and, with their team on top, their voices sound at least double that. They’re situated in the far right corner of the stadium but she can hear them clearly, chanting and getting behind the team. The familiar chants send her right back to her time spent in the Holte End and she wishes to return, to experience it again, really soak it in and appreciate it since her interest in the sport has increased.

Killian charges back to defend, putting in a magnificent tackle reminiscent of the challenge which saw the ball smash into Henry’s face less than a week ago. The Villa support roar at the sight, encouraging more of it, and delving into a round of Super Captain Jones. Emma has to sit on her hands and bite her lip so to hold back the urge of joining in with the cheering, chanting and clapping of the high-spirited Villa fans. And Mary Margaret was worried about Henry exposing them.

Emma very nearly jumps up from her seat in delight when Locksley receives the ball and spots Killian’s run, playing the ball in behind the defence. Her heart leaps as Killian runs towards the ball; he’s through on goal! He looks bound to slot it home, or at the very least, test the keeper. He reaches the ball, puts a foot out to get it under his control but his touch is heavy and sends the ball careening towards the corner flag. He doesn’t relent, sprinting after the ball to retrieve it but the heavy touch has given the Arsenal defence time to get back and he’s well wide of the goal. He collects the ball and puts in a cross towards the flood of his teammates swarming into the box but the Arsenal right-back succeeds in intercepting the ball and sends it up field.

All of a sudden, Villa are on the back foot; they’ve committed men forward, into the opposing box and Arsenal have the ball in their possession in midfield, charging forward on a break. Humbert and Booth are retreating, trying their best to manage a two against five situation. As the opposing player carries the ball into the box, Booth plays him on the outside, forcing him onto his weaker foot. The player hits the byline and cuts the ball back, playing a pass to a player waiting on the edge of the box who doesn’t even take a touch before striking the ball into the top left corner of the goal; a magnificent yet utterly heart-wrenching sight.

The fifty-seven-thousand Arsenal fans go crazy as their team goes one goal up, the Villa fans momentarily silenced. Emma sinks back in her seat and Henry lets out a frustrated huff beside her. The fans around them are discussing the amazing move and the wonder goal whilst Emma’s thoughts linger on how different things could have been had Killian gotten his first touch right.

The Villa fans find their voices as the game kicks off again, bursting into an impassioned round of ‘Villa Till I Die’ to spur the team on, enforcing their unwavering support. The game continues as it had been, Villa keeping much of the possession, passing the ball around the back, spraying long balls into the channels for Locksley and Scarlet to collect, initiating attacks into the final third.

Locksley flashes an inviting ball across the face of the goal and Killian is just a fraction too late in sliding in to direct it goalward, the ball trickling out slowly for a goal kick. Killian pounds the ground and, though she can’t hear him over the sarcastic ‘waheys’ of the Arsenal fans, he throws his head back and screams in frustration.

Things don’t get much better for him. He hits the crossbar, skies one over the bar much to the enjoyment of the Arsenal fans, takes too long getting the ball out of his feet to get a shot on goal and inviting the defender to dispossess him, trips over his own feet on a ‘got-to-be’ opportunity, and puts at least three shots wide of the post.

To make matters even worse, Arsenal go up the other end and score during one of their only ventures into the Villa half since their first goal. Killian kicks the ball from the centre circle to restart the game and the ball doesn’t even make it to Locksley before the referee blows the whistle for halftime.

“This isn’t fair!” Henry complains as the players make their way off the pitch. “We’ve been all over them!”

“Got to take your chances in this game,” David shrugs.

He’s not too bothered by the result, indifferent as to who wins. An avid follower of the Major Soccer League back home, his loyalty lies entirely with New England Revolution – a name Killian had openly mocked on the London Eye – so whilst he follows the Premier League and is entirely enjoying Henry’s newfound interest in the sport, he has no particular allegiance to any team competing in it.

The fans seated behind them are keen to join in the discussion for one of them leans forward and comments, “We’re lucky your striker can’t even finish his dinner today. If he were on form, this game would have been put to bed twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah, we don’t deserve to be two up,” his friend adds. “I’ve never known Jones miss so many clear-cut chances.”

“He could have a hat-trick!” Henry says.

“One of the best strikers in the league right now,” the first man nods. “He’s put at least five passes straight out of play. I wonder what’s going on. Maybe he’s got a niggling injury?”

He didn’t. Not as far as Emma was aware. He’d been fully fit last night, though she opted not to contribute that thought.

“There’s always a chance of a comeback,” David reminds them all. “The players just need to show that they want it.”

--

Killian is the first one into the away changing rooms; he’d been straight down that damn tunnel the second the half had ended, wanting to put that forty-five minutes of football far, far behind him. His head wasn’t on straight; his thoughts were too slow, not keeping up with the speed of the game, and his feet wouldn’t move fast enough. A pit of nausea is growing in his stomach, imagining the discussions going on in the crowd, the fans slating him; and he can do nothing but sit and wait for the oncoming storm of Gold. He puts his head in his hands. He’s going to throw up.

Robin sits down next to him and places a sympathetic hand on his shoulder which he abruptly shrugs off. The man hasn’t said a word but Killian can just feel the ‘I told you so’ radiating off him.

Life is bloody shit. A few hours ago, he was living the life, it hadn’t taken long for it all too come crashing down around him.

“Jones.” The gaffer; here it comes. “The off Locksley.”

What?

Killian stares at him blankly. Gold held his stare, a thunderous look in his glare. Had he angered him so much he couldn’t even string a sentence together?

Robin taps his left arm. Jones slowly turns to face him, glad to break eye contact from Gold, and finds a grimace on Robin’s face as he holds his hand out expectantly.

Killian’s totally lost.

He looks around the room, searching for any hint. The rest of the team are slumped in their seats, busying themselves with correcting their socks or shinpads, or just straight staring at the floor.

Gold steps closer and, with animated pointing, speaks again, “Armband. Locksley. Now.”

Killian’s hand goes to the captain’s armband Gold had pointed at, running his fingers over it hesitantly and his brain slowly puts the pieces together. He stands up immediately in outrage, the resulting headrush making his legs weak and he almost drops right back down again.

“You’re benching me?” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Now you’ve got it,” Gold confirms, pointing two fingers at him.

“You can’t bench me, gaffer,” Killian protests. “Fletcher’s injured, there’s no striker on the bench.”

“Jones, I could put my grandma up top and she’d do a better job than you today,” Gold returns, not backing down. “And she’s dead.”

“Keep me on. Let me put things right,” Killian’s ready to beg.

“Decision’s made,” Gold stands firm and flicks his finger towards Robin. “Armband.”

Killian slumps back down into his seat, dejected, and reluctantly hands the armband over to Robin, nausea overcoming him once again. He drops his head back into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he rubs his temples; the right side of his head throbs and he would do anything to go back to the morning, lying in Emma’s bed, agreeing to give long distance a go, not a worry in the world.

Gold breaks the news to Phillips that he’s on for the second half and asks Scarlet to step into the striker position, the younger man all too keen to play centrally and have a shot at bolstering his goal tally for the season. Gold dives into an impassioned speech about the game being far from over, continuing to take the fight to them and finishing their chances.

In an unusual move, he sends the team out for the second half with five minutes to go until it’s scheduled to recommence, instructing his coaching staff to get the players and substitutes raring to go. Killian is in no hurry to head out and sit on that blasted bench, and when Gold’s the only one who remains in the room and doesn’t tell him to head out, he has a feeling the man wanted to talk to him one-on-one all along.

“I’ll accept partial responsibility for this disaster,” Gold speaks up and Killian lifts his head, staring at him in surprise. “I made a judgement call this morning and it appears I made the wrong choice. You need to get your head in the game, Jones, and fast. You’ve been distracted all week, in training, at meetings; you’ve hidden it well but I caught it. My call this morning was swayed only by the professionalism you’ve displayed over the last thirteen months but I fear you’re slipping into old habits.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Killian stares blankly at him.

He can’t keep up with all the words; they’re too fast, too jumbled, morphing together, creating gibberish which was unusual in that typically Gold excelled in getting his point across through well-fashioned speeches.

“When I came to this club, you were a decent player but you were being held back, distracted,” Gold emphasised, “by a woman.”

Killian follows that better and immediately protests, “That’s not what this is.”

“Isn’t it? Since you got that blonde’s number last match you’ve barely paid attention in briefings and meetings and this morning you rock up late, shirt buttons all wrong and hair tousled,” Gold seemingly hasn’t missed much. “What’s the biggest thing I’ve been drilling into you all since I got here?”

“Victory comes at a price; focus, determination, grit and hard-work,” Killian recounts instantly, it’s like an automated response, rolling off the tongue.

“Exactly. And no distractions is crucial for three of those,” Gold points out. “And, you see, new blossoming of love is a distraction, the most dangerous distraction of all. It makes us sick, clouds our judgement, throws your focus.”

“This isn’t about Emma,” Killian maintains.

“If you say so but, if it is something else, you best figure out what the hell it is about and fast,” Gold returns. “Do you want Aston Villa in the Champion’s League next season? Because that first half display had you playing like a man jumping ship to Man City in the summer and let me tell you something, son, you carry on like that, and they’ll lose interest in pursuing you.”

He watches glumly as Gold exits, leaving behind him a load of racing thoughts in Killian’s pounding head. The image of the European Cup, pride of place in the Aston Villa tunnel, bores into his mind.

That’s my ultimate goal, right there.

The very words he had spoken to Emma just five days ago echoes in his head. The ultimate goal, the ultimate treasure; he needs to land his hands on one of those bloody trophies. Whilst he dreams to do it with Villa, there’s a reality in which they don’t clinch fourth spot and fail to qualify and, if that were to happen, there’s a reality in which he’s left to seriously consider the Manchester City option. He’s twenty-nine, there’s no telling how few years he has left in him for top-level football. Whichever happens – whether he’s playing Champion’s League football for Aston Villa or for Manchester City next season – there is one thing he does know; he needs to be playing well for the remainder of the season for either to become a reality.

He needs to work out what the bloody hell is wrong with him. He picks up his phone, pulls up the messages between him and Emma.

He ponders whether Gold is right, whether Emma is the reason for his poor performance. He considers Eloise Gardener, the way his performances had improved after that had come to an end; he’d put it down to Gold – his world class coaching – but was it all Gold? Was there a chance he was cursed to play poorly when his personal life involved a woman?

Or was it a coincidence?

Could he really afford to find out?

--

The Villa players emerge from the tunnel early and begin passing the ball amongst themselves whilst waiting for the referee and opposition. Emma searches the group for Killian to no avail. Henry notices his lack of presence and dives into theorising with David whilst Emma fixes her expectant gaze on the tunnel; he’ll return. A captain doesn’t abandon his men when the fight is yet to rage on.

“Locksley has the captain’s armband on,” Henry notices.

Emma’s eyes snap from the tunnel to the field, scanning the claret and blue players until she finds Locksley and sees for herself; the black and white armband is fixed around his left arm.

“Looks like Jones’ day is done,” David comments.

Emma sinks down in her seat. It isn’t what she had been promised. Henry had been going on about Killian having to play every minute of every match whilst the team’s only other striker was ruled out through injury. Her interest in the game drops slightly with the latest development, two goals down leaves a big mountain to climb and with Killian out, the Villa team just becomes a group of unrecognisable soccer players in claret and blue again.

“So are we just going to play without a striker?” Henry is confused.

“Gold will move someone into the forward role, play them out of position,” David explains.

“Will that work?” Henry asks doubtfully.

“Time will tell,” David returns with a shrug.

The cheers that greet the returning Arsenal players does not match Emma’s suddenly sullen mood; it feels like fifty-seven-thousand people are taunting her. The players and referee all take their positions, ready to commence the second half, but not before the fourth official raises the electronic board to signal Villa’s half-time change, Jones’ number nine in red and Phillips’ number eighteen in green. As if she had missed the fact that she would not be watching Jones play for the remainder of the game, the stadium announcer blasts it across the stadium to further rub it in.

Arsenal have the ball to initiate the second half, their own number nine – still very much on the pitch – plays a simple pass to one of his midfielders upon the referee’s whistle. Scarlet applies pressure immediately, raring to go, forcing a miskick from the opposition player, his own pass falling right to the feet of Booth. Booth plays a sideways past to Humbert who wastes no time in lifting the ball over the sleeping Arsenal defense, seeing Scarlet’s continued run. It’s a similar move to Killian’s first chance of the game, except Scarlet takes the ball neatly under his control, putting him one-on-one with the goalkeeper. The goalkeeper is fast off his line, closing down the gap, spreading his arms out to make himself as big as possible. Scarlet glances to his left, spotting Locksley’s run into the box alongside him, and passes the ball to him. The goalkeeper has committed, leaving the goal wide open for Locksley who slots the ball home.

“Yes!” Henry screams, jumping to his feet and bouncing around in celebration.

Mary Margaret glances around nervously, but the Arsenal fans seated in hospitality are light-hearted, some chuckling at Henry’s outburst.

It's an instant reaction to going in two to nil down and the Villa fans in the far corner love it, launching into celebrations. Locksley grabs the ball from the net, eager to get play restarted again; two goals down seems like a long way to go, one down reinstates belief that the game is still within their grasp.

The game restarts and quickly falls into a similar pattern to the first half in that Villa retain most of the possession. The Arsenal manager makes his own changes, putting on an extra defensive midfielder, tightening things up at the back and limiting Villa to less clear-cut chances than they’d had in the first half. Scarlet is a willing running, emulating Jones with his runs in behind the defence but attempts to play the ball to him are either cut out by the awoken, resolute Arsenal defenders or put just a little bit ahead of him, allowing the goalkeeper to rush out and collect.

Time ticks by, sixty minutes, seventy minutes, eighty minutes, and the game grows more and more frustrating from a Villa viewpoint; the play is impressive, passes and movement intricate, until the ball reaches the final third and it all crumbles apart, allowing Arsenal the chance to slide in, block, or see the ball out of play.

Henry’s huffs and grumbles get louder and louder. The clock ticks over into the eighty-second minute as Scarlet plays the ball to his right, Locksley collecting and running at his defender who sticks a foot in and knocks the ball out for a corner.

“You’ve got to play it to the left there!” Henry yells, jumping to his feet, his frustration boiling over, as his outstretched hand gestures wildly to the left-hand side of the field. He drops back into his seat, throws his hands to his side, and complains, “Phillips was wide open then!”

Locksley places the ball at the corner flag and waves his arm, urgently encouraging his defenders – strolling up to the box for the coming attack – to hurry up. Booth and Humbert promptly break into a jog and take up their positions, Booth lingering on the edge of the box whilst Humbert gets involved in the group of players within the box, all jostling for position. Locksley launches the ball into the box and Booth makes a late dart to attack it, leaping high and nodding it goalwards. The ball bounces just before the goalkeeper, lifting over his hands and into the back of the net.

Henry’s on his feet again, punching the air with two fists, and screaming at the top of his voice. Booth has run to celebrate with the horde of Villa fans going almost as wild as Henry who has since leapt at David, practically shaking him with glee. Locksley’s in the goalmouth, the ball back in his hands instantly. He thrusts the ball into Scarlet’s chest, pointing for him to take it to the halfway line before jogging over to Booth, patting him on the back before urging him away from the celebrations. He can sense blood; an opportunity to nick the victory in the final seven minutes of the game.

The game promptly restarts and chaos erupts, passions flared high, everything at stake; tackles fly in left, right and centre, all matched with an encouraging roar from supportors, some spectacularly timed, others not so. The game is stop and start, the referee’s whistle going every few seconds, yellow cards being brandished for every dodgy tackle.

“This is benefitting us,” one of the fans behind muses. “The more stoppages, the more we knock them off their stride.”

“Oh, for sure,” his friend agrees. “We’re proper under the cosh here. Just need to see it out now.”

There’s an uproar amongst the crowd and Emma fixes her attention back to the pitch to find a hoard of players swarming around the referee. Emma’s missed the cause of it but tempers are flaring. Locksley is holding onto Scarlet, pulling him back from an opposition player, Scarlet pointing and yelling angrily. The opposition player receives a yellow card from the referee who proceeds to raise it at Scarlet to, an action receiving a huge cheer and waves from the Arsenal fans, as it’s his second of the game and is shortly followed by the brandishing of a red card.

Scarlet throws his hands up in utter disbelief and looks ready to go for the referee, if it weren’t for Locksley maintaining a tight grip on him and leading him towards the tunnel. The clock ticks into the final minutes of stoppage time, Villa are down to ten men and suddenly nicking a winner looks to be a momentous challenge. Locksley jogs back onto the pitch and sets the ball down for a free kick – Emma assumes the loss of tempers was a result of yet another bad tackle committed by an opposition player. The ball is positioned near the edge of the box, almost dead centre, and Emma’s reminded of his free kick in the dying moments of the last game, the one which elicited a world-class save from the goalkeeper to keep it out.

She held her breath as the players positioned themselves. One man down, all eleven Arsenal players crowding the box, the chances of directing the ball goalwards without a block looks especially difficult.

“There’s no angle,” David comments. “It’s too central. He won’t be able to score directly from this.”

Despite the apparent lack of angle, Locksley’s eyes are fixed on the goal, spotting his opportunity to complete a most amazing comeback. He takes three strides back, drops his gaze to the ball, takes in a deep breath and charges towards the ball. He pulls his left leg back, looks dead set on striking the ball homeward, but when his foot connects with the ball, it knocks it sideways.

Phillips is running at the ball, the angle changed by Locksley’s soft touch, opening up the left side of the goal as a tempting possibility, if only he can guide the ball through all the red shirts. He pulls his right leg back and strikes the ball, hard.

Time slows and Emma holds her breath, daring to believe as the ball lifts over the heads of the opposition players, beyond the outstretched glove of the goalkeeper, and nestles into the top right corner.

Beside her, Henry goes wild for the third time, opting to leap at her this time. She jumps up, joining in with his celebrations – to hell with hospitality – bouncing up and down and cheering, at least until a steward approaches and kindly requests they mute their jubilations. She complies and sits herself back down, wondering if she would have been so willing had it been Killian scoring the winner, and faces a hard time getting Henry back on his seat. He looks ready to rip his jumper off, unveiling his shirt underneath and she just about manages to convince him to wait until they’re outside the stadium. The Arsenal fans around them have been quite patient but she doesn’t want to push their luck any further.

The Villa players dig deep for the final minutes of the game, Arsenal throwing everything at them – every question Arsenal poses, Villa have an answer, whether it’s a tackle, block, or professional foul, the claret and blue men defend as if their lives depend on it. Locksley unknowingly blocks a shot from the line, taking a ball square to the forehead in the process. He drops to the floor and the game is immediately halted by the referee whilst the club doctors charge on to undergo their concussion checks.

After a few minutes, Locksley is deemed to be fine. Play resumes, Locksley getting waved on and Villa doing everything in their might to prevent Arsenal from nicking a goal back. Stoppage time seems to last forever, Arsenal continually peppering the Villa goal until finally, finally the three whistles go, signalling the end of the game.

The hospitality section – like most of the stadium – empties out quickly. Emma, Henry, David and Mary Margaret find themselves surrounded by empty red seats as they watch the Villa players celebrate with the packed away section, tossing match worn shirts into the crowd. Emma throws an arm around Henry’s shoulder, pulling him close as he grins madly.

“We really could make Europe this season!” he exclaims excitedly.

Scoring three goals to come back from two down against a team challenging for the top spot was enough to get anyone to believe. Emma smiles at him, envisioning Killian with his hands on that long-sought after trophy.

Killian may have had a bad game, he may not have seen it all through, he may not have come out to watch the game from the bench, but she likes to imagine him somewhere within the stadium, furiously celebrating the winner with Scarlet.

She looks forward to celebrating with Killian herself, later that night.

--

Henry is on his fifth kids cocktail since the game ended about an hour ago, properly throwing himself into post-match celebrations. She wonders whether he’d be necking beers so fast after a victory in eleven years time… or eight years, if he were to travel to England for a Villa game for his birthday. The thought throws her – he’s growing up too fast, she knows that day will arrive sooner than she excepts – and she swigs her own drink, an alcoholic cocktail, almost finished.

She drums her fingers against the table, looking around the room. It’s near empty; most fans hadn’t bothered to hang around after the disappointing result from their viewpoint but of the few that had, most have since left.

Killian is taking his time, and she’s getting impatient.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket, wondering whether she had misread the message; perhaps he’s waiting elsewhere for them. She has a message from him and she clicks on the notification, opening it up.

sorry love cab’t risk distractions oflong distants with europe victoru so close thanbks for the goof night zzz

She’s out of the stadium immediately, giving her parents and Henry some nonsense about not feeling well. They don’t buy it – the exchange of concerned looks when Henry asks about Killian and she fails to hold back a grimace tells her they didn’t buy it – but they go away with her, nonetheless.

On the tube, Mary Margaret keeps Henry close and occupied whilst David takes the seat next to Emma. He doesn’t say a word but he puts an arm around her and she leans her head, defeated, on his shoulder.

She’s Arsenal; a winning start to the day, only for it to be ripped away so cruelly at the end.

--

Tags: @teamhook@laianely@booksteaandtoomuchtv@exhaustedpirate@anmylica@hollyethecurious@kmomof4@winterbaby89@undercaffinatednightmare@resident-of-storybrooke@tiganasummertree@stahlop@lfh1226-linda@darkshadow7@fleurdepetite@captainswan-kellie@motherkatereloyshipper@soniccat@jrob64@whimsicallyenchantedrose@jonesfandomfanatic@myfearless-love

#cs ff #captain swan #the heart of a villan

[leorawright]

Ello! May I ask for a tf2 merc x reader where the reader is selectively mute and only talks to the specific merc? It’s fine if not :)

Sure! (I hope you don't mind but I'm gonna do a selectively mute reader talking for the the first time)

Mercs mute s/o talks for the first time

Scout

Oh yeah here come the waterworks

Scout has always dreamed of you choosing to talk to him and now it's happening

He'll scoop you into a hug rambling about how amazing your voice is

Soldier

He's so, gosh dang proud of you right now

He'll be excitedly cheering about how his s/o finally talked

He absolutely adores your voice and it's his favorite thing in the world

Demoman

He's so flattered that you feel comfortable enough around him to talk to him

He's trying so hard not to cry but it's not working

Hearing your voice has him in shock and he can't describe the overwhelming feelings he has right now

Pyro

They're stary eyed and staring at you in awe

You... just spoke to them...

THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE!!!

They tackle you in a hug excitedly yelling about hiw amazing your voice is and how amazing you are

Heavy

He goes dead silent

Hearing your voice for the first time takes a second to process but when he does he just stares at you

He'll silently hug you and start mumbling thank you's and about how wonderful hearing you for the first time is

Medic

This feeling that Medic has will never be topped in his life

This feeling of pure joy that he has when he hears you speak to him

He's hugging you and yelling about how you're the single most wonderful person in the world

Sniper

When you spoke he definitely started tearing up

He'll try to wipe away the tears but you know he's not sad because he has the biggest smile on his face

He's in awe that you chose to speak to him for the first time and he can't express his gratitude

Spy

For once he's speechless

He doesn't flirt he just gives you the softest smile ever

Expect thousands upon thousands of compliments about your voice

If you chose to talk more Spy is delighted that you feel that comfortable around him

#tf2 x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 spy x reader #tf2 pyro x reader

[the-starlit-blade]

thinking about the parallel between house swabbing cameron and him encouraging thirteen to get tested for huntington's. how he does it out of a place of love for both of them because in his world ignorance isnt bliss and he knows theyll be better off for it even if they hate him for a while

#stari mumbles #house md #gregory house #allison cameron #remy thirteen hadley

[jaksfanficsaver]

“My Star, what do you think about-” Celeana's voice died in her throat as she ducked into the pale elf’s tent, the flap fluttering closed behind her. “Oh.” She squeaked quietly, a deep flush turning her cheeks a beautiful purple color while she tucked the parchment in her hands back into her bag.

Astarion stood there, nude, appearing to have just come from washing up if the towel in his hand was an indicator. She quickly looked away, hiding her face but knowing damn well he already saw her expression in the mirror he was by. While this was by no means the first time she's seen him naked, it was the first time since they both shared that they had strained relationships with intimacy and their bodies.

“What did you need, my Moon?” He chuckled softly at her shyness. “...you can look, you know.” he murmured quietly, watching her in the mirror with amusement. The tiefling fidgeted with her hands, her tail low to the ground and unsure as she slowly looked back at him. Celeana's posture relaxed as she caught his eye for a moment before he turned back and continued drying himself off.

Her eyes roamed his body, lingering on the spiraling Infernal on his back. Astarion tensed as she stepped up behind him, looking into the mirror to hopefully catch his eyes. “...May I touch you?” Her question was murmured gently between them, with no pressure on her words. He pondered his response before nodding his assent.

Celeana reached forward slowly, her fingers gently tracing over the scars in his skin. Astarion gasped softly at her touch, gripping his towel. Celeana froze, glancing in the mirror once more. “Stari-” she stumbled on her words, wanting to apologize.

“I didn't say stop.” he mumbled to her, relaxing slightly when her warm hand returned to his back. The rough calluses on the pads of her fingers from hours plucking on her lyre and the heat of her skin were a stark contrast to the soft skin on the Elf’s back. She started to smile at the little things she noticed- faint freckles on his shoulders, small scars from their adventures so far-

“What is it? What's got you smiling?” He bristled, his body tensing.

“At this…” she gently traced her nail around a small collection of moles that resembled a smile. “a small group of moles.” She grinned “back here on your shoulder blade… it looks like a smile!” She giggled softly.

“oh come off it. Don't tease, Darling.” He huffed.

“But it really does!” Celeana defended with a pout. “... Here, if you want… you can look at my ridges… if you want.” She suggested as a peace offering, shuffling her feet and avoiding his gaze.

Astarion thought of her offer, watching her body language. “You don't need to undress if you're uncomfortable, my love.” he supplied gently, not wanting to discomfort her. Celeana smiled softly, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

“I'm okay, I want to.” Her tone just as delicate as his, feeling safe in their bubble of time.

That's how they ended up here with Celeana sitting between Astarion’s legs, facing the mirror while his careful fingers explored the different ridges over her body. Celi hummed softly while she played with the furs they sat upon, her tail slung gently over his thigh and winding down his leg.

“What's this one from, Sunshine?” He inquired while he gently traced a roughly healed scar on her side. She laughed, shying from the ticklish touch.

“I antagonized an owlbear cub too much, and He let me know.” She chuckled softly.

“And this one?” His hand glided feather light up her front to gently hold the scar over her throat. “What happened here?” he murmured beside her ear, his breath ghosting the shell.

“Believe it or not, you're not the first to have held a dagger to my throat.” She mumbled, leaning her head back to his shoulder, mindful of her horns. “I was more clumsy back then… got cut when I tried to roll away.” his hold turned airily light as he gently stroked the scar with his thumb. His arms shifted to her soft stomach, pulling her closer, kissing along her throat softly. “It's not your doing, my love.” Celeana murmured gently, as if reading his mind, and leaning into his chest, the feeling of his skin soothing her.

Astarion hummed softly at her warmth, nuzzling her cheek and kissing the freckles and scar there. “And this one?” he asked. she grinned, her own sharp teeth glinting.

“A group of goblins thought they could try to catch me as a prize for market.” She lazily opened her eyes “you should have seen how I left them.” mischief twinkled in her glowing eyes. Astarion rolled his eyes, laying back and pulling her with him, a smile growing as she giggled. A purr began to rumble through Celeana's chest as she relaxed in his hold, sighing as he played with her hair. “We should get dressed… they might need us..” she mumbled, enjoying his ministrations.

“I dare them to enter without asking.” He chuckled “they'll get a beautiful sight of you.” Celeana rolled her eyes but relaxed back against him.

“If you say so, Stari.”

Needless to say, Gale doesn't just barge into Astarion's tent anymore.

#astarion x tav #astarion x celeana #Celeana gueshoon #astarion x tiefling #tiefling tav #acespec Astarion #acespec tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bard tav #astarion x bard tav

[nicholaslefthand]

~A kiss for the winner (of my heart)~

Warnings: kissing, fluff

W/C: 1.3K

______________________________________________________________

I was at my best friends Basketball practice. He was running left and right trying to get the ball into the hoop. I sat at the gyms bleachers and watched him with big stary eyes as I was mesmerized at his technique. He was running and running and finally, in the last 2 seconds, he shot the ball into the hoop smoothly. His team won with 112 points against the other team, who only had 39 points. Everyone cheered at Yungyu for being so good, when he looked at me with a very bright smile which made my cheeks light up in a soft pink, as I smiled back at him. The next few minutes were consistent of Yungyu getting praised, him looking for a place to escape to and me adoring him, while thinking about my crush on him. After Yungyu was allowed to leave the practice, he ran over to me to try and tackle me into a hug. I held my hand out in front of him so he wouldn’t touch me, “You’re sweaty, Gyu. Take a shower and then you can hug me.” I said with a small giggle while Yungyu groaned and rushed to the locker rooms to shower. Meanwhile I was packing my bag with my homework that I tried (failed) to do while Yungyu was practicing. Speaking of the devil, he came out of the shower with his hair still damp and rushed over to hug me. He squeezed the air out of me, and I reciprocated the same way. We let go of each other with a laugh and made our way out of the gym to go to his house as planned. On the walk we talked about what happened to us at school, as we didn’t have time to do it in the breaks. “…And then she confessed her ‘undying love’ for me-! Can you believe that? I don’t even know her!” Yungyu explained what happened mid lunchbreak. “Of course, I rejected her- in a soft way, before you come at me -and then she ran away sobbing, screaming that I will regret that?” We both started laughing at that, while he continued his story as we walked. When we got there, we both took off our shoes and went to greet his parents and sister. “Hi!” Both me and Yungyu said in sync, which made us laugh again. “Hello you two! How was practice, dear?” His mother said to us with a bright smile. “It was great, mom. We won again.” Yungyu answered his mom enthusiastically while walking to the fridge to get himself something to drink. “Oh-! And we have a game tomorrow after school.” He then turned to me, “You’re coming right?” He asked me with a hopeful face, to which I nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it for life!” I said with a bright smile. Yungyu hugged me and we went up to his room to do some homework. “What do you have to do? I have some Math homework.” Yungyu asked me while sitting down on his bed. I put my things down and pulled out my homework, “also math.” I said with a giggle. He blushed a bit and we both took out our pencil cases and started doing our homework. “AHHHH!” Yungyu screamed and I jumped while throwing my pencil at him. “WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING-!” I screamed at him in panic, “I DON’T UNDERSTAND THAT QUESTION Y/N!” he whined loudly while I breathed in and out deeply trying to calm my breath. “What is the question?” I said while trying not to laugh. Yungyu starts to laugh with me, and I start explaining the question to him. After we finish our homework, we head downstairs to tell his parents and sister that were going to McDonalds.

Quick Time skip to when they get back to Yungyu’s house

As we head back inside his room, Yungyu asks me “Wanna sleep over? We can pull out the couch and then cuddle while watching movies… If you want…” he mumbles the rest and I pinch his cheek. “I’d like that… But are your Parents fine with it?” “It’s fine. You could burn our house down and they’d be fine with it.” I laugh at that and nod. “Fine then.” Yungyu smiled at me he smiled after Practice. A few hours later we lay on the couch while cuddling and I text my parents that I’m sleeping over at Yungyu’s. “I’m tired…” I mumble into Yungyu’s shoulder as he pulls me closer to him. “Wanna turn off the TV and sleep?” He whispers and I nod while cuddling more into Yungyu’s shoulder. He pulls the blanket higher and turns the TV off as I drift into sleep. “Goodnight, beautiful…” He whispers as he kisses my head and also drifts into sleep.

Time Skip next morning

I wake up to soft warm breathing on my face and look up to see a sleeping beauty (Yungyu). I feel my cheeks heat up and look down to see that my leg is laying on Yungyu, and he has an arm laying on it, as his other arm is around my waist. I blush deeper and look away to try and lessen my blush. I take my phone and see that its already 9 am. I start to Panic that were late, when I see a text from my mom saying that she and Yungyu’s mom let us stay home for today, to get some rest for the game. Just as I put my phone down again, I felt Yungyu move and saw that he opened his eyes. “…What time is it...?” He asks sleepily. “It’s 9 am, but our moms let us stay home to rest for your game.” I answered him as he nods and looks at his phone, just to turn beet red. He showed me his phone and I saw a picture of us cuddling on the couch.

(imagine this you and Yungyu) (I'd die in happiness)

“My mom sent me this…” He blushed deeply as he hides his face on my head, and I giggle while blushing just as hard. After we finished the movie we started yesterday, we decided to get up and eat breakfast. We then got ready and cuddled some more while watching some K-pop performances until it was 2 pm and we had to leave for the game. We took a Bus to the school and Yungyu makes sure that I can ride with the team Bus. We sit together and Gossip about the movie all the way to the Gym, where the big game takes place. When we get out of the Bus, he leads me to the bleachers and holds his cheek out. “A good luck kiss?” He smirks. I shake me head no, “I’ll give you a kiss if you win.” I lean forward towards him, so our faces are an inch apart. We both blush and he walks away, “BET I WILL!” he yells over to me. He’s on the field and the game begins.

Time skip, the last 10 seconds

As the last 10 seconds of the game come around, Yungyu gets more and more nervous. The other team is leading with 106:105. ‘Yungyu needs to win’ I think, ‘I need an excuse to kiss him…’. They go back on the field and the last 10 sec start to roll. Yungyu is running around the field trying to dunk the last ball. The time is running out- 3 seconds left, Yungyu Jumps, throws the Ball- and makes it smoothly. As the time runs out, the scores change. Yungyu’s team is now leading with 108:106.

Everyone cheers and I run down the bleachers over to Yungyu who is already running towards me. We collide in the middle, and I pull him in by his cheeks and press my lips against his soft ones. His hands wander to my waist and pulls me closer. As we pull away, he asks: “Will you be my girlfriend?” I nod and kiss him again, more softly this time. After we shared this soft kiss, I whispered to him:

“You’re the winner… Not just of the game, but also of my heart.”

______________________________________________________________

#8turn #yungyu #lee yungyu #yungyu x reader #lee yungyu x reader #8turn yungyu #8turn x reader

[azamatic]

You know what to do.

Written as an exchange between myself and @your-averagewriter, I hope you like it!

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

Truth be told, you weren't much of a crowd person. A few people you could do, but not a full house like what tonight would be.

It was your best friends birthday. You'd known each other since you were kids and had been together through thick and thin and they're totally understanding of your predicament. But you wanted to do you best for the one friend who'd stuck by you.

You'd spent most of the afternoon procrastinating over your choice of outfit, liking a bit of one and a bit of another. You collapsed on your bed in frustration, letting out a sigh of frustration.

A sound came from your landing, so you sat up and saw Spencer leaning against your open doorway. "I know you'll look amazing in whatever you put on."

You smiled softly in the fact that Spencer always knew what to say to perk you up.

You got up and stood in front of the mirror. "I just don't like how it makes me look."

He pushed himself off and walked over to where you were and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder and holding you there for a minute 

"You're perfect…" he kisses your left shoulder. 

"...just the way…" he kisses your right shoulder.

He spins you around so you're staring into those hypnotic eyes of his. "...you are." and kisses you're forehead.

You melted into him for the briefest of moments and mumbled against his chest. "You always know how to pick me up."

His chuckle rumbled through you. "You're damn straight I do hun." 

He books your nose before pulling away. "Come on, let's go slay this thing" and leads you out by the hand.

—-------

The party was only a few streets away, so you both walked there, him offering you an arm. It was a perfect summers eve,  so the temperature was just right.

You turned up a few minutes later and were greeted by the birthday girl. After exchanging gifts and hugs, she pulled you aside, telling Spencer to go ahead and grab himself a drink.

"I'm so so happy you came! But listen. If tonight gets too much for you, take a timeout whenever you need and for however long you need. There's blankets in the spare room and out by the tree house, so help yourselves."

You gave her a hug and thanked her for being so understanding. After centering yourself and taking a deep breath, you went in. You got this, you thought. 

For the first few hours, everything was fine. You mingled with small groups and caught up with friends you hadn't seen in an age. You'd had a few drinks and were surprisingly happy and comfortable. 

That was until more of your best friends guy friends rolled in with more booze and a bigger sound system.  The liveliness was  cranked up and you could feel the thud of the bass in your chest. It was all getting a bit too much, so you took yourself off to the tree house to give yourself some space.

Spencer was walking round the house to try and find you. He went up to the birthday girl to ask. "Hey! Did you happen to see where y/n got to?" She spun to face Spencer.

"Oh hey! Yea, they took themselves to the treehouse for some space, it's quieter up there." He winked his appreciation.

Sure enough, he found you there lying down and looking up at the sky, clearly enjoying the stary night.

You looked up briefly and then lay back down. Sometimes in situations like this, actions speak louder than words, and Spencer knew that with you. He slid his jacket off and wrapped a throw around the both of you, gently stroking you hair to calm you.

You could already feel yourself calming down in no time. Even though you didn't have to say anything, Spencer knew you were thankful. How you managed to snag someone this compassionate and understanding will always be a mystery to you.

#fanfic writing #spencer charnas x reader #ice nine kills

[mages-pandoras-box]

The Forgotten Powers - Snippet

((A snippet from my upcoming story, The Forgotten Powers - an AOT and The Boys crossover. Enjoy!))

Word Count: About 1.1k

Warnings: Car crash and injuries.

Tagging: @ferretwrites

Hughie honestly doesn’t remember the crash happening. One minute, he was talking to MM and Annie about Stormfront when suddenly MM cursed and tried to swerve.

Hughie remembers the impact and hitting his head on the car’s roof. Then darkness.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s surrounded by metal and fire. 

Hughie felt…cold. He could register that he was lying in the street but not his body. He couldn’t move. 

“HUGHIE!”

Oh…was that Annie?

He heard footsteps, and then M.M. and Annie hovered over him, panicking. 

Hughie was having trouble breathing. He was so tired. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Annie was saying, “No, no, no, no!!”

Hughie was dazed; he couldn’t focus on a single thing. All he heard were voices. He could hardly register anything. What was even happening?

“Annie…? M.M…?” He mumbled weakly.

Annie and MM both shush Hughie.

“It’s okay, don’t try to talk,” M.M.’s voice and face were calm now, too quiet, as Annie cried and panicked.

“It’s okay, Hughie, you’ll be okay!”

Hughie couldn’t understand the situation at all. His vision was still blurry, and his brain was still foggy. The pain slowly crept up on him as he lay still. He felt…numb.

He couldn’t say much. All he could manage was a soft, “I can’t feel my legs..?” as his eyes slowly moved down, even as Annie tried to stop him.

Hughie finally registers pain in his arms and face. Even though it was muffled like someone had covered his nerves in cotton.

Blood and burns with two jagged pieces of shrapnel embedded in his chest and stomach filter into Hughie’s blurry vision. Annie’s hands hovered over his skin as if scared to touch Hughie.

Hughie loses feeling in his neck, and his head thumps against the ground as it falls back. All he could do was watch the sky above him, his vision slowly tunneling around the edges. 

He tries to move his head, to at least try and get a glimpse of either M.M. or Annie, but his neck refuses to move. So he settled for blinking slowly. His eyelids get heavier with each blink.

“I…” He sighed weakly. That was all he could manage.

As Hughie’s vision continues to fade, he can distantly hear Annie yelling and the sound of sirens steadily growing louder.

He doesn’t want to die.

The darkness keeps creeping in.

He doesn’t want to die!

It’s getting harder to keep his eyes open.

He doesn’t want to die!!

Slowly losing consciousness, Hughie forced his eyes open. His vision was getting blurry, and the darkness slowly overtook him. He had a gut feeling he wasn’t going to survive this. 

He’s scared.

“I want more time,” Hughie’s throughs jump wildly, “I don’t want to go. I want to make things right,”

He took deep, shaky breaths.

“I don’t want to die,” He mumbles, inaudible due to the chaos around him. 

There is a flash.

The sounds of the highway, Annie’s voice, the sirens, M.M.’s gentle words, and the feeling of pain, the sun’s rays on Hughie’s weakening body, vanish within a moment.

The ground below him suddenly feels soft yet gritty and warm. Sand.

Hughie feels a soft breeze as he looks up in awe.

Above Hughie was a clear, stary night sky. Trails of bluish-green light streak across the sky, similar in appearance to an aurora.

He was..confused. His eyes glued to the sky, he could feel a sense of peace wash over him. Confused but calm. Safe. He felt okay with being here.

He took a deep breath. Something inside told him it was okay now; everything would be fine.

“What…?” He muttered. 

There is movement next to Hughie, and he weakly turns to see a young man slowly kneeling down on the sand next to him.

He wore a gray chemise shirt under a thin black jacket with matching slacks and shoes. The man’s shoulder-length brown hair was parted down the middle, with a few strands falling between his eyes and over his face.

Due to some odd shadow, Hughie couldn’t see the man’s eyes but saw his kind smile.

It didn’t feel like Hughie was breathing anymore. His eyes scanned the man, trying to take in every detail he could. He felt a strange connection as if he’d known the man for years. He didn’t know who he was or where he was…but he was calm.

He tried to speak, his words coming out very soft and whispery.

“...Hello…?”

The man’s smile slowly grew. He reaches out and holds Hughie’s limp hand, his smile soft and understanding.

A small smile crossed Hughie’s face as he lightly squeezed the man’s hand. The man’s palm was warm.

“Who…are you…?” He still whispered, his words quiet. He was confused, yet he didn’t feel scared.

The man doesn’t answer. Only looks at Hughie. Despite the odd misty shadow covering his eyes, Hughie could tell the man’s expression was of care, warmth, and sympathy.

Nothing else seems to matter except for this moment. This man, whom Hughie didn’t know if he was real, smiled softly down at him as Hughie watched the aurora above them. He wanted to close his eyes, to feel peace again.

“... I’m…Hughie…” Hughie whispers, softly turning to the man once more. 

The man’s smile grows warmer, more protective as if he already knew Hughie’s name.

He looks down at Hughie’s body before gently, ever so softly, squeezing Hughie’s hand.

Something flows into Hughie’s body, down his spine, spreading through his nerves. It felt like lightning struck him, but there was no pain. It was warm. Strong. Powerful.

A voice echoes softly around Hughie, “Cherish it. Master it, learn control, for fear will be your greatest enemy,”

The man pulled his hand away before Hughie could say anything else, and the sun’s harsh rays suddenly blinded him.

The sounds of the highway come rushing back. There’s chatter and shouting, cars zipping past, sirens still going off, and footsteps as people move around.

“Hughie!?”

Hughie felt something being secreted from his body. More specifically, his wounds. Something was wafting into the air, causing the area to get foggy. 

Steam. 

Hughie slowly sits up, feeling the pain draining away from him as more and more of the steam is pushed out of his skin. 

Hughie watches in a mix of amazement and horror as his skin slowly stitches together, bones snapping into place, his bruises fading. 

The steam thins out as Hughie feels his strength returning; once Hughie’s body is completely healed, it stops. 

Hughie takes a breath, then another and another as he slowly turns, looking around. 

He sees M.M. and Annie a few feet away, looking at him in shock. 

Hughie swallows, mouth suddenly dry, “What….what just happened?”

#the boys series #the boys blog #the boys #the boys amazon #amazon #hughie campbell #annie january #starlight #marvin milk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #writing #fandom crossover #crack crossover #billy butcher #william butcher #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren attack on titan #eren aot #mikasa ackerman #levi ackerman

[the-archangel]

Sense

CyberHanami Day 1 prompt, 'Born to Die'

V feels like a ghost in his  own home as he mooches from room to room unable to settle or focus. Kerry has been gone for hours and with no word from his mainline V doesn’t know what to think.

“He prolly just got high at the studio and lost track of time,” Johnny tells him unhelpfully,

“Nah, he wrapped up last week, album’s comin’ out next month.” V thinks about the songs he’s heard from Kerry’s latest record, some leave him with a smile, others with tears, but they’re all fucking amazing – it rocks like nothing Kerry has done in years. “It’s gonna go nova when it comes out J, they’re gonna love it.”

Johnny nods, he’s got to agree, his old bandmate is back on form to be sure, it’s just a shame it took what’s happened in the last few months to get him there.

The two men turn to face the window as the sound of a car draws their attention, sure enough Kerry spills out, clearly in no state to be driving, he stumbles through the side door barely making it to the couch before collapsing onto the seat.

“Ker, finally, I was worried.” V sweeps over to sit next to his gorgeous Rockerboy, “I missed you.”

Kerry seems to be finding it difficult to focus, “I love you V,” he whispers before drifting into a troubled and uncomfortable sleep.

“See he’s fine,” says Johnny gesturing to his clearly not fine friend, earning a glare from V.

“ I just wish he’d talk to me,” V says sadly, “whatever’s been bugging him, he won’t talk about it. We used to talk about everything, but it’s been weeks since we’ve had a proper conversation.”

Johnny bites his tongue, unsure if this is a good time to tell the ex-merc what’s going on – again – or to save it til morning, he decides on the latter.

-

V doesn’t remember waking up, he feels like he’s been lying here staring at Kerry’s sleeping features forever – maybe he has – the blare of the radio alarm pulls him out of his reverie and he watches his mainline leave their bed with a grumble and a stretch and go into the bathroom, Johnny appears next to the distracted man, “V, c’mon things to do, gotta delta.”

“Shit Johnny, ever heard of boundaries?”

“Hmm, not in relation to me no,” the rocker muses.

V realises he must’ve slept in his clothes again, but he can’t get the energy together to get changed.

“Where are we going, don’t remember having plans?”

“You’ll see, get yourself downstairs,” Johnny tells V as he hustles him towards the staircase, his hurry not entirely because he doesn’t want the younger man to hear the sobbing from the bathroom.

-

“What’re we doing here Johnny?” V asks as they stand watching the clouds gather over North Oak.

“You mean philosophically or actually?”

V glares at his friend, “You’re a fucking annoying asshole sometimes y’know,”

“Shit, only sometimes? Must try harder.”

The sun’s not been up for long and the overcast sky hints at coldness, but neither man is really feeling it, despite this both have their hands deep in their pockets and shoulders hunched against the weather. As the first drops of rain fall a car appears and stops a few feet away from them.

“He’s here.” Johnny states.

V had recognised Kerry’s car as soon as it came into view, he would’ve driven if Kerry had asked, seems dumb them going separately to the same place. Johnny held his arm tightly to stop him from running towards his lover as the door swings up and he makes his way onto the footpath.

Kerry seems older than he used to, thinner, drawn, maybe even limping a little on that cranky knee he was always griping about, V aches to go to him, to hold him tight, but Johnny’s chrome hand  keeps a firm grip as Kerry sweeps past them without a second glance.

They follow keeping a few feet behind, Kerry is virtually radiating a need for personal space right now and they respect that.

“I don’t like it here Johnny, it’s …dunno…creepy.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” the older man mumbles under his breath.

Kerry stops at an alcove near the back and after spending a moment seemingly staring at the wall, sinks onto the floor with his head between his knees and sobs uncontrollably, V breaks from Johnny’s grasp, running towards the distraught man, but stopping short of the hug that was his initial intent. Johnny catches up to the ex-merc, casting a concerned look at his worryingly blank face.

“Jeez Johnny, I forgot, how the fuck could I forget?”

“It’s been a year, you’re fading,” the other man says with a shrug.

Kerry lifts his head, wiping his face on the back of his arm, there’s a fond half-smile there that mingles with the tear tracks and breaks V’s heart.

“Never fade away V,” Kerry whispers touching his fingertips to the stone.

#CyberHanami23 #kerry is my muse #kerry eurodyne x male v #kerry eurodyne #kerry x male v #kerry x v #cyberpunk kerry #johnny silverhand #johnny and v as friends