#staring at the ceiling in contemplation of this fic as one does and ?????

[worstloki]

prediction for @galaxythreads' fic You Screamed For So Long We Forgot To Care Anymore 

#staring at the ceiling in contemplation of this fic as one does and ????? #the image of Clint trying to explain anything to Loki is so djkbhdgh #ESPECIALLY since Clint would be explaining the thing about Loki TO Loki ??? #Clint: you have history with theses guys #Loki: (messed up memory and doesn't want anyone to know his business anyway) no i don't. i don't know what you're talking about. #Clint like I could understand you talking to the aliens and Loki is like. what aliens. #PLUS Clint and Loki have a kinda friendship-y bond going on #a little rapport #i just like the avengers getting along #and Loki suffering #except now Clint suffers too!!!!!! :D #Clint like bestie i've been having your dream-mares and Loki like ugh not another horse joke and Clint like no like memory nightmares. help #fic rec #Language! #L! #anyway this is less a prediction and more enjoying the story unfolding because hoo boy the characters are a mess #i love you @galaxythreads

[potofstewie]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐲

Summary: Leaving a consistent and predictable cycle of motion is oftentimes hard for one to do, even if the cycle in question brings forth harm to that person. However, the addiction and comfort of knowing what will happen next is what compels them to stay despite the harm.

Notices: NSFW, fuckbuddies/situationship, AFAB!Reader, doggy, petnames (daddy, baby), cervix bruising, gojo is dissociated for a little bit, pining, porn with plot, depiction of emotional abuse, toxic!reader, smoking

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

W/C: 1.8k

A/N: This is my first fic for Gojo and I'm not really into JJK like that so I hope my interpretation of him does him well. This came about due to the song "If you think I'm Pretty" by Artemas. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴀ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴʟʏ ʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴇx

The pads of Satoru’s fingers dug into the plushness of your hips as he plunged feverishly into your cunt, your walls squeezing with every pullback. Despite him not seeing your face and only viewing your back and your ricocheting ass, Satoru deemed you to be absolutely beautiful. From your dark areolas to the long indent from your spine, all of it was amazing to him. But, despite all that, Satoru couldn’t really focus on the scene before him. It was obvious that he wasn’t his usual self as his mouth didn’t utter a single word of praise nor did his throat rumble out a satisfied groan that night. Instead, he was completely silent in his task of giving you pleasure and being done with the entire ordeal. His warmed ears drowned out the sounds of sticky skin slapping, your moans, the creaking of his bed, and the squelching of your pussy. You were in absolute bliss. He was ruminating.

“F-faster daddy, faster..” You whined breathlessly into the warm air of the room. Obeying your whiny command, Satoru sped up and even went deeper, his tip brushing against your cervix with every thrust. Satoru’s glossed-over eyes gazed at your cream that coated his dick and pelvis. Usually, he liked witnessing the sticky evidence that you loved what he was doing to your needy pussy, but now all he could do was give it an empty stare. Your grip on his sheets tightened as you felt your second orgasm of the night fast approaching, your eyes screwed shut as you whined out some more. “I’m so- I’m so- so close..” You struggled to announce, every thrust knocking the air from your throat and making you retry with your words. 

“I know, baby, just cum for me..” Satoru mumbled, rubbing the pads of his fingers over your clit to help you out. After a few more rough thrusts into your battered pussy, you released a choked gasp, shockwaves coursing through your veins. Satoru stopped thrusting, allowing you to squirm on his dick as you rode out your orgasm with staggered moans. Softly sighing, he pulled out carefully, eyes traveling from your panting frame to the mess you left on his dick. 

With a satisfied hum, you began to sink into the disheveled sheets, lowering your now sore hips onto the bed as he stood in place at the foot of the bed. To the untrained eye, Satoru’s façade was blank, still as the surface of a pond. However, his mind was anything but, regardless, he couldn’t allow you to see him like that. So, with a simple and soft smirk, Satoru crawled next to you and laid on his back, a hand behind his head and one on your back as you rested your head onto his chest. 

For a short spell of tranquil silence, you both laid there gathering your energy. The tips of his slender fingers glided on your back gently and gave you ticklish shocks as he stared up at his ceiling, slightly furrowing his brows in contemplation. This was the fourth time that you had knocked on his door with the premise of wanting to give your heart to him, only for the night to end up in his bed and the morning starting with you gone. Every time, you had stated that you were ready to share your love with him. That you wanted to be more than two friends that would retreat into each other's bodies to satiate hunger and lust; that you instead wanted to be lovers that would lick each other's star-dotted wounds for eternity bound and more. 

That’s what you’ve always told him to make it easier to come in. Make it easier to slip off your shoes at his door, easier to undress yourself and have him lick upon your body in the dead of night. Easier to pleasure each other. It seemed as if you had finally caught on to his hidden feelings for you and knew all the right things to say for him to let you in despite his better judgment. 

Saying those honey-coated words, those sickly sweet “I need you ‘Toru”s that made the man’s snow-favored lashes quiver in thinly veiled anticipation for your unattainable love. He wanted your soft gaze reserved for a lover, your wishes that you made to the endless night sky, your warmth. 

“I'm surprised.” 

“Huh?” 

“I said I’m surprised. It usually takes more than two rounds to tire you out.” You clarified, mischief laced in your voice. Clearing his throat, Satoru morphed his mouth into that of a faux smirk. 

“Yeah well, I’m just a bit tired tonight that’s all.” He softly responded, his words receiving a scoff from you. 

“You last even longer when you’re tired.” Remaining silent for a few seconds, Satoru internally took a deep breath for the conversation that would take place.

“Y’know, Y/n.” He started, a sense of false ease and nonchalance ladened in his voice. Humming in response, you couldn’t help but smile a little. You were content. He was taking the leap. “How…How ‘bout we make this official, huh? You said it yourself, nobody fucks you as good as I do. Plus, you said that I’m the only guy that treats you as you should.” He finished, referencing the bait you used on him earlier that night to get what you came for. Silence. That was the initial response that you gave to his proposal of a new dynamic. A change in your relationship. An option you weren’t keen on accepting anytime soon. Humming once more, you ran your hand in slow circles on his stomach, acrylic nails going over the dips and bumps of his muscles. 

“Mm, c’mon, ‘Toru. You know how I feel about you...One day, but not right now, m’kay?” You reassured him slowly, your empty words dripping in false sweetness. 

Liar.

“Yeah..okay.” He sighed, still keeping his smirk on his face, his blue eyes watching you slowly sit up; your body lazily straddling him which he accepted with his hands on your hips. 

“One more round f’me, I wanna feel you..” You purred. That was more than enough for him to get hard again, ready for an embrace that would engulf Satoru with a feeling of cold distance rather than shared warmth. But it was an embrace that despite the pain, he just couldn’t let go.

ᴋɪʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ

That was a week ago and neither of you have spoken to each other since until today. Satoru clicked his lighter a few times to light his first blunt of the day, taking a forlorn drag from it. Sighing heavily and releasing the smoke into the air of his dead apartment, he leaned back on his couch as he reflected on his ties with you. He truly didn’t know what to do about you; he really did feel for you in a way he hadn’t felt before. Satoru enjoyed looking at you with eyes so filled to the brim with admiration and joy. He enjoyed it whenever you gave him tiny, minuscule crumbs of your love in the form of hugs and cheek kisses; each action being held with such reverence in his heart. 

As the winter sunbeams poured into his abode, his eyes drifted towards his dimly lit phone, the screen just barely showcasing him a text you sent minutes prior.

‘it’s so cold today n i miss youuu. i don’t have anything to do today n i wanna chill’

He still hadn’t responded, and quite frankly, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want this to keep going any longer. He wanted to put his foot down, break the whole ordeal off, and go about your separate ways. He wanted to listen to the advice that his friends gave him; to start anew, to find someone who actually wanted him around for more than just physical intimacy. He wanted to be set free from you; yet at the same time, he just wanted you to give him more than a couple hours of pleasure. 

He wanted your unattainable love, but did you even want his love? Did you want to know all of his dreams and secrets? To view his scars, to cherish him? Would you hold him if his nightmares became too much? Would you want him by your side and you by his? 

Did you even see him as your equal? 

That question sent a dull, painful shock to Satoru’s chest as he wallowed even more into his thoughts, ignoring a chime from his phone. What did you see him as? To your mind, was he only a toy robot that followed the command of its master? Was he no longer deemed a friend by you and only an acquaintance who had the privilege of seeing you naked? Did you even like him enough to consider a friendship in the first place? 

Sighing and taking another puff from his blunt, Satoru snapped himself away from his thoughts as he read over the new message that you sent. 

‘im down the hall n i brought some shit from the corner store. i can’t wait to see you baby’ 

He could practically hear your singsong voice through the screen. Maybe, this time he would finally express his thoughts, the very thoughts that kept him awake. And hopefully, you would actually be willing to listen and help him decide between his two options. To help decide between letting you go and finally freeing himself from this tormenting cycle, or to stay by your side, forever kneeling at your feet. 

With a few soft knocks from his door, Satoru got up from his couch and made his way to the only barrier separating him from eternal longing and heartbreak. If he kept the door closed and simply told you to go away, then maybe, Satoru would be okay. He could always adopt that cat he’s always thought about, a dream you’d often shoot down because you thought dogs would be better. Maybe he could seek pleasure from different women, something he stayed away from because he was content and happy with only you. 

But if he opened up the door, he could always have the opportunity to be in your presence, to feel your warm hands glide along his skin. To hear your coos and moans of pleasure, to hear your laugh anytime he told a joke. He could keep this up for a little while longer, to revel some more in your divinity. 

With another knock on the door, Gojo Satoru finally made up his mind with another pull from his blunt. 

“Oh, ‘Toru, I missed you~ Mm, I love you, y’know that right? ‘Toru?”

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2024

"An artist's duty is to reflect the times" ~ Nina Simone

Tagging: @honeybleed @digitalsakoi @screampied @hoshigray @preciousamethyst @cupidszvlvr @lihlyx @111liyah @ilovegojosatoru111 @evangelion-0 @sweetheart-satoru @keigodo @satorminniett @obssessedwithhers-blog @jx130033

#original stew #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk smut #jjk angst #gojo x black reader #gojo satoru x black reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo satoru x black y/n

[darkhairedmenrule]

“Of course we love you Darling”

This fic was inspired by a tiktok, so take that how you will. This is the first time I've published anything on Tumblr, but I have written fanfic before. So please, be gentle if this isn't great. This is a gift for my lovely Lou on their birthday, I hope you enjoy this❤️

Laying in bed was supposed to bring you a sense of peace, that you were done for the day. It was supposed to allow you time to decompress, relax, and rest so that you would feel refreshed the next day. But life has a funny way of turning things on its head. While you wished you could be relaxing, you were instead lying uncomfortably in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the day replayed in your mind. But specifically earlier when your world felt like it was thrown into a time warp. It seemed, that your brain was not ready for rest until you resolved this. With a sigh you rose up and sat on the edge of your bed, contemplating exactly how to move forward. Anyway, you look at this, you thought this is going to hurt.

Getting up you made your way out of your room, down the hall to where his familiar door was. You stood before his door for a few moments before getting your nerve and knocking. You heard some movement before you saw him pull the door open. Your eyes roved over his lithe body, clad in a soft henley and even softer-looking sweatpants that you would not think he would ever own. But, even professionals need to be comfortable at some point in their lives. Mentally shaking those thoughts away, you make eye contact with him in his doorway as he appraises you. Clearing your throat, you try and give him a forced smile. “ Hey, can I come in?” You force out, willing your voice not to shake. He gives you a small one that is only reserved for two people and steps aside to let you in. As you walk in, you notice that the room has a soft glow, proving that he does in fact use those candles that you got for his birthday this past year. As you take in his gorgeously decorated room, which frankly smells and looks amazing, you hear him shut the door and start to walk toward you.

“ Are you going to tell me why you are here little lamb?” He asks, breaking the relative silence as he observes you. “ Hanni, I just wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier, it was uncalled for and I'm deeply sorry” came your reply, genuine but timid as you looked into his deep maroon eyes. “ And what exactly are you apologizing for lamb?” “ Well, I- uh we kissed earlier. And I know you and will are happy together and it didn't mean anything. I'm sorry if I upset either of you, obviously, you don't want me to be kissing you” you ramble on, not noticing how Hannibal's gaze is darkening as you continue to inadvertently insult yourself. The words that you don't say are loud in his mind. They don't realize how we feel for them. How oblivious are they? I know they feel the same. I need to fix this, no love of mine will feel less than. “ Do not belittle our love like this, I thought our feelings were clear little one.” You stare at Hannibal in confusion, “ What do you mean our feelings? I know you two are together Hanni.” You notice his eyes darkening this time when he lets out a fond sigh, Ah they do not know, I’ll have to remedy this. “Darling, Will and I do love each other but we are an incomplete pair. We also love you little lamb.” You let out a heavy breath, “ Hannibal this isn't funny ok? I know you two don't love me, why would you?” you say as you look down, internally cursing yourself for being so stupid earlier. If you had just ignored your stupid crush on the gorgeous men, none of this would have happened. “ Hanni I know you don't love me, why would you love me if you have each other? You both are absolutely gorgeous and I'm nothing in comparison.” 

“ Since when have we ever allowed you to talk about yourself like that little one?” asks Will as he comes out of the bathroom, pulling you into his arms. You see Hannibal’s lip pull into a small smile despite his storming face. “ Darling, I know you don’t see yourself as beautiful or desired but you are completely wrong. We both want, no crave you. It's torture to see you hate and distance yourself from us when we are close. Yes, we love each other, but you make us whole.” As he finishes his frankly beautiful and infallible statement, you go to refute him when Will speaks up. “ Little one, of course we love you, you bring us both a sense of peace. You always know how to calm us both down on our bad days or just in general. You love to talk to Hanni about his passions for art and cooking and talk to me about my dogs and poetry. I know that society has told you that you need to be a certain size to be beautiful, but it's complete shit. We love you exactly as you are; our beautiful, strong, intelligent, and funny Darling. We know that you might not love yourself yet, but we will love you until you can. We want you Darling, to be ours for eternity and not a moment less. What do you say? Do you want to be ours?” He finishes his mini speech with a heart wrenching squeeze around you and that's when the dam breaks. When you finally allow yourself that lie that you tell yourself at night that it's not really there, that they don't love you to be pushed out of your mind as the tears leak down your cheeks. You feel Hannibal come and wrap his arms around you and Will, them effectively making a giant hug for you to cry your heart out in. Through the tears, you can hear them say sweet whispered truths to you, and one day you'll believe them. You are so beautiful, Darling. We love you so much. You are ours. You are loved. You are enough. I Love You.

* Authors Note*

Hi Lovelies, this story is just the beginning for these three, as I have many more ideas for them. I wanted to dedicate this to @hannibals-favourite-meal as they are my soulmate and its their birthday! I hope you had a great day darling, 21 will never look better than it does on you. I love you! Thank you for reading 💖💝

#Happy Birthday #I Love You Lou #x plus size reader #Hannibal Lector x plus size reader #Will Graham x plus size reader #Hannibal laector x reader #Will Graham x reader #Hannigram x reader #Darkhairedmenrule fics #my fic

[nyoomfruits]

PLEASE ELLIE

du bist mein schultenbrau

Tell me!! 🤍😂

ITS SO DUMB ITS JUST THE WORKING TITLE for everyone super confused by the context, the title is from this banger of a dutch après ski hit the title has mostly nothing to do with the fic except lando and oscar go on a ski trip in the winter break because oscar was supposed to go with his gf but she broke up with him and lando's like 'i'll go with you' and they spend a whole week on a super romantic couples ski trip As Bros (who fall in love. obviously) anyway thats a terrible explanation here's the first two opening scenes that actually set up the plot perfectly lmao:

Max texts Lando on one of this last days in the MTC, right before winter break is supposed to start. Lando doesn’t even notice at first, spending most of his time in and out of meetings, filming a few last minute promo vids. When he does notice, he sighs, annoyed, a little disappointed.

“Hm?” Oscar says, from across the table, where he’s slouched down in one of the office chairs, scrolling through his own phone.

“Max cancelled our trip,” Lando says, dropping his phone down on his thigh and staring up at the ceiling as he contemplates his options. He could go visit his parents, maybe. Maybe other Max and Martijn wanted to hang out for a bit.

“Verstappen?” Oscar asks, without glancing up from his phone. He’s been quiet all day, more quiet than usual. There’s a downward pitch to his mouth, bags under his eyes. Lando gets it, maybe. It’s been a long season, and even though they ended on a high note, he can understand the exhaustion. He’s feeling it himself, the aftereffects of months of giving it his all. It’s why he’d been looking forward to this trip so much.

“Fewtrell. We were going to the Maldives. But now his girlfriend wants to go visit her family, so.” He tries not to sound bitter about it. He gets it. She hardly gets to see him as it is, and it’s not like Max owes him anything.

He’d just really been looking forward to it.

“Can you cancel?” Oscar asks. He’s put his phone down, and he’s looking at Lando now, the way he always does. Like there’s nothing else in the world more worth looking at than Lando. It had unnerved Lando a little, in the beginning, until he’d realized that’s just how Oscar looks at people. Or, well, he assumes that’s just how Oscar looks at people. He’s never really been able to test this theory, but it makes sense, so. It’s probably true.

“Yeah,” Lando says. “Full deposit back and everything. Still. Rather be on a beach.”

Oscar snorts. “Luckier than me, then.”

“Why?” Lando asks, frowning, wondering if he’s forgetting something.

“I was supposed to go to this ski resort with Lily. But now. Well.” He looks pained, and when Lando sends him a confused look, he adds. “We, uh. We broke up. So.”

“Ah,” Lando says. So maybe it hadn’t all been exhaustion, then. “I’m sorry.”

Oscar shrugs, but his mouth is still pitched down and he’s not looking at Lando, instead focusing on his hands, where he’s fiddling with his phone. “It’s okay. It just wasn’t working out anymore. For either of us. But uh. Yeah. Still sucks. Plus I can’t get my deposit back, so now I either go on this stupid ski trip alone, which is just sad, or I just lose the money.”

Technically, Oscar could probably afford to lose the money. He’s rich enough. But it’s the principal of the thing. Also, Oscar still has that sad puppy look on his face and it’s pulling at Lando’s heart a little bit. It’s the only excuse he has for blurting out. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, looking up, surprised.

“Yeah,” Lando says, thinking about it a little more seriously. “Yeah, why not? Teammate bonding outside of the season. It’ll be good for us. Plus, it solves both of our problems. You don’t lose the money and you don’t look like a sad sack of shit in front of all those fancy ski people, and I get to go on a vacation after all. Win win.”

“I mean,” Oscar says, and he seems to actually consider it now. “It’s no beach.”

Lando shrugs. “Bet the gin and tonics still taste roughly the same,” he says, and Oscar laughs, one of those full body things where he folds in half with the force of it. The joke’s not that funny, but it’s the happiest he’s seen Oscar all day, so he’ll take it.

“Sure,” Oscar says. “Why not. Let’s go.”

--

It isn’t until Lando’s standing in the door opening of their little cabin for the weekend, backpack hanging off one shoulder and suitcase at his feet, that he realizes how intimate this is. He should’ve guessed, maybe. Oscar had said it was a trip he’d booked for him and his girlfriend, so. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, perse. But this is. It’s small. It’s cozy. There’s a fireplace.

“Lando, I don’t want to rush you, mate, but it’s like minus ten out here and I’m not wearing my ski jacket yet,” Oscar says, from somewhere behind him, a noticeable shiver in his voice.

“Right, yeah, sorry,” Lando says, moving further into the cabin, dragging his luggage with him. Lando had flown in from Monaco, fresh off celebrating New Year’s with his friends. Oscar had flown in from London, and Lando’s pretty sure he spend both Christmas and New Year’s alone. It shouldn’t tug at his heart strings as much as it does, probably.

Oscar makes his way inside, dumping his suitcase by the couch and looking around. “Quaint,” he settles on.

“All right, big fancy words man,” Lando says, rolling his eyes. “Please tell me you know how to make a fire, it’s fucking freezing in here.”

“I do, actually,” Oscar says, beelining for the fireplace while Lando wanders further into the cabin, darkly muttering ‘of course you do’.

The living room is massive, with a giant L shaped couch in front of the fireplace, and big open windows looking out over the beautiful snowy landscape outside. To the left, there’s an open archway to a kitchen and dining room, and to the right are two doors. One, upon opening it, turns out to lead to a pretty decently sized bathroom. The other-

“Oscar,” Lando says, frowning a little. “Are you aware there’s only one bed?”

“What?” Oscar says, looking up from where he’s fidgeting with something in the fireplace. Lando doesn’t say anything, just holds open the bedroom door and gestures at the frankly giant bed. “Oh, yeah,” he says, looking a little forlorn. “I mean. Yeah. When I booked it- Well. They didn’t have any cabins with single beds, so.” He shrugs a little bashfully. “I’ll uh, take the couch. It’s big enough.”

And he looks so small, and so sad, crouched in front of the fire, shoulders slightly hunched over, that tired, sad expression back on his face, and goddamnit. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lando says, closing the door resolutely and going to grab his luggage. “We’ll share.”

“But-“ Oscar shares, and behind him, there seems to have appeared an actual fire in the fireplace. Lando raises an impressed eyebrow.

“No. We’ll share. It’s fine, the bed is giant. I think we’d be sleeping closer together if they had given us separate beds, that’s how big it is,” Lando says, grabbing his bags and making his way back to the bedroom.

“Okay,” Oscar says, but he doesn’t look so sad anymore, smiling a little at Lando’s dumb little joke, and that’s. Lando will take that, if anything.

“So,” Lando says, flopping down on the giant couch after he’s managed to ditch all of their luggage. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

#landoscar #twinklaren #mctwinks #will this ever see the light of day #probably not #i wasn't feeling The Dynamic #spend a whole week writing a restaurant scene that never felt quite right and then gave up #anyway #snippet

[itsjusthockey]

Moth To A Flame - Jack Hughes & Trevor Zegras

Hahaha another angst fic (cheating, which is bad but its for the plot)(also wrote a long time ago but decided you all would maybe enjoy?)

Thank you all for followers and love, I eat that shit up

Send in requests and questions, I wanna bond guys

Hope you enjoy

wc: 2,921 (credit to gif maker)(don’t steal my work)(song is by the weekend)

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to

What you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time, I'll let you be

Hotels always make you feel weird. Your legs ache. It feels like a million tiny pinpricks in your thigh; if you lay on your left, it goes away. But then your arm starts to hurt, so you lay on your back—the pinpricks resume. So you lay on your right; the pricks don’t go away, so you try to ignore them. Your toes curl from the aching and your hands are shaking a bit too. You need some water. You turn to your left side again, contemplating just getting up and getting something to drink.

“If you’re gonna flip flop all night, can you at least do it gently so I can sleep?”

Your eyes widen as the ragged sound of Trevors voice fills the once dead silent hotel room. The words aren’t harsh, but you can’t help but notice the annoyed tinged when he throws the words at you.

You thought he was out cold since he seemed to be exhausted from practicing all day. The All-Star NHL game was in full swing, and he had no time to do anything other than eat, sleep, practice, and play. Guilt washes over your body as you turn over to face his back. He was asleep on his stomach, his face nestled into the crook of his arm, having seemingly fallen asleep after your interruptions. You want him to touch you, to hold you. To do anything to have a reminder that he’s there and that he cares, but you know that’s too much to ask.

You almost let a quiet apology slip past your lips, but you don’t bother once you realize that he is as good as dead to the world.

You turn your back away from him, sliding your phone off the desk and opening it. You’re beyond restless, and nothing can calm your wandering mind, and before you can stop them flashes of your past but still haunting relationship echo through your head. You used to be comforted when you couldn’t sleep. You remember the late-night drives, the listening to music while he gently traced your skin, the amazing sex if you were wound up.

This relationship wasn’t that; this could never be that.

Before you can control your fingers, they hover over his phone contact, touching so close to the screen that if you move even slightly, you’d be dialing his number.

You stay there for a minute, staring at the screen when you feel Trevor shift beside you. You don’t bother to look at the screen as you toss it away, placing it on the nightstand. You slow your breathing and force yourself to sit still. You don’t want to bother him.

You sit there for what feels like an eternity, with the entire weight of the world pressing down on your chest. You want to scream, you want to panic, but you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, hoping when you wake up, you won’t feel as bad as you do right now.

Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

His alarm wakes you out of your slumber or whatever you could call the limbo that you were in. You want to move, but you catch yourself staying still in the bed as you feel him swing his legs off the mattress and onto the floor. You open your eyes slightly and watch as he stretches his back, cracking it as he does and slipping on a t-shirt that was thrown on the floor the night before. You close your eyes again and try to feign sleep, but you taken out of it when you feel Trevor plant a wet kiss on your cheek.

Your awake now, but before you can react to anything, Trevor is burying his face into your neck, wrapping his arms around your torso and you’re breathing in the smell of his body wash. After a few minutes of laying there in silence, his one hand busy tracing shapes on your torso while the other is on your back, he lifts his head, removing it from the crook of your neck. He smirks up at you before kissing a line up your jugular, placing the last kiss right on your lips.

His lips linger on top of yours for a few seconds, and your fingers entangle into his hair as he holds your jaw into place, deepening the kiss.

Finally, he pulls away from you, looking deep into your eyes. You almost hated when he looked at you like that. His eyes bore into your soul and made your stomach do flips. You never thought you’d let a man make you feel such deep emotion again, and it made you feel endlessly guilty all over again.

“You wanna get some breakfast before I head to the rink?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak quite yet. He smiles a wicked smile and gets up, heading in the direction of the bathroom and closing the door.

You finally pull yourself off of the bed and stroll to your suitcase. The case was a slight mess, but it was your fault after trying to find the number necklace you always wear when you’re around him.

You pick out something to wear, and after 20 minutes of getting ready from both parties, you’re walking down the street, hand in hand, toward a diner you had seen when you pulled into your hotel.

You can’t help but smile as you eat breakfast. He’s cracking jokes and messing around with the different condiments, and you can’t help but let your heart fill with adoration. He’s the only guy in the world, and you kick yourself for thinking otherwise.

You’re enjoying your food and talking aimlessly when the bell on the door rings as it opens. You’re sitting facing away from the door, but when Trevor looks up and his face falls, you know it can’t be someone good who just entered.

You whip your head around faster than you should, and you immediately lock eyes with the green orbs you spent so many nights staring into. You swallow hard and rip your eyes away, turning back to Trevor, who is glaring daggers at his once best friend that just walked in. You go to say something to make him feel better, but he puts up a hand to stop you, instead opening his mouth.

“My appetite is ruined; let’s just go.”

You don’t argue as he drags you out of the booth, throwing way more money than needed down on the table. You can tell he is beyond pissed by the way his jaw is locked, and he pulls you a little harder than he should toward the exit.

You walk fast along with him, but the second before you’re pulled from the diner, you pull your head back to look. Your eyes meet with his again, and he gives you a small smirk.

You hate the way it still makes your heart skip.

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Oh, tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

It was much later in the day, and you’re on edge. This morning's little interaction had caused both you and your boyfriend's moods to sour. Now, you know better than to talk to Trevor. He was distracted and didn’t play well. He missed easy passes, didn’t score, and let the man who he hates score a goal right by him. After the game he insisted he was fine you don’t want to be on the receiving end of the temper you know he has.

So instead, you’re wandering the hotel halls when you come across a little lounge area that looks surprisingly welcome. You take a seat on a little couch area and contemplate what to do with the passing time before your boyfriend calms down. You wanna go and be there for him, but you realize that distance may be better for the both of you.

You’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear someone clear their throat. Your eyes dart up to meet the culprit, and your stupid heart swells when you meet his eyes for the third time that day. He steps into the room like he owns the place and goes to sit in the chair that’s directly opposite of you, leaning as close to you as the chair would let him.

“How’d you sleep last night?”

The question is laced with some humor, and you don’t miss the way his eyes light up with slight mischief. You shake your head.

“It was actually great; I slept amazing cuddling with my boyfriend.” You emphasize the word boyfriend as your stare hard at him.

He chuckles, but there is little humor to it.

“Sure, I can tell from the massive bags under your eyes and the fact that I got a phone call last night.”

Terror flashes across your face, and you pray he’s lying as you look through your call list. Much to your horror, you see an outgoing call to him late in the night, and you realize you had hit the stupid button when Trevor had stirred next to you.

You’re at a loss for words, but you try to explain yourself, but he stops you.

“Don’t try to justify it. It’s nice to know you think about me just as much as I think about you.”

You protest, but he stands up quickly, snatching your phone from your hands. You go to grab it, but before you can, he holds you away from him with his ridiculous arm span.

You stand there defeated as he scrolls for a minute before he finds what he’s looking for, and he smirks once again as he shows you your phone. There in front of your face, is the hidden app that holds all your darkest secrets. You remember once telling him about it while you were drunk, but you hoped he had forgotten it.

“Does Trevor know you still keep all these?” There was no humor in his voice. Rather instead, it was filled with slight anger.

You watch silently as he scrolls through your entire relationship, all reduced to pictures you swore you would delete but never could.

Once he is satisfied with your utter humiliation, he stops scrolling and hands you back your phone. He is staring so deeply into your eyes that you have to look away. You have no idea why he’s doing this to you, but you can’t find the words to tell him to leave.

You both sit there in silence until he gets up, running his finger frustratingly through his hair, and heads for the door. He halts before he leaves, turning slowly back to face you and speaking softly.

“Happy would’ve been two years.”

Just like that, he walks out the door.

Yeah, you should be with him

I let you go from time

You should stay with him

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

It’s late when you make your way back to the shared hotel room. You open up the door with the key, and you quietly click it shut once you enter.

Trevor is asleep as you walk toward him. The moonlight of the window reflects on the clear skin of his bare back. You reach out to run your fingertips across the skin. The warmth radiates off his tan skin, almost as if he’s burning up. You climb into bed and scoot closer to him, pressing your chest against the back of his. Your cold hands wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, earning a wince from the boy facing away from you.

He turns around to face you, and when he looks into your eyes, he can tell something is off. However, he doesn’t push. Instead, he places a light kiss on your lips and tuns over once more.

You’re stuck in a never-ending cycle. You wish he would push; you wish he would do anything to break down the walks that are forming around your heart. You wish he would see that you’re slipping away from him. But he doesn’t; instead he just sleeps, and you’re stuck thinking about all the things that have happened and all the things that could have been.

-But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Oh, tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

Right here with me, babe

Where it truly lies

In my bed, babe

Where it truly lies

In my arms, babe

It’s 3:13 in the morning when you give in to your darkest desires. It’s a simple text that you send, but you know he’s awake, and you know he’ll answer. Even though you know, as soon as you press send, your heart begins to pound. You’re scared it will pound so hard that you’ll wake Trevor, so you force yourself to calm down.

It’s 3:15 when he answers.

It’s 3:19 when guilt washes over your body as you turn over to face Trevor. He’s sleeping on his stomach again. The duvet had been kicked to the bottom of the bed by him at some point in the night. The boy was like a damn space heater; he never got cold and always radiated heat in the night, no matter the time of year.

You stare at him for a while longer when you decide. You wait a minute to hear his breathing, and it’s steady. Knowing you’re in the clear, you get up slowly and softly, and by 3:22, you’re knocking on the door of someone else.

When he opens the door, he smiles as though he had won the lottery, and he quickly pulls you inside. His hand grabs your waist suddenly, earning a gasp in shock from you, and he lifts you up as if you are weightless, pressing you against the closed door.

He doesn’t waste any time. He has always loved neck kisses more than he loved real kisses. He loved everything about your neck. The way his face fit perfectly into it. The way you’d get goosebumps when he held the back of your neck in his hands while he kissed you. The way you let him hold your life in his hands as he wrapped his hands around your neck during sex. The way your neck looked the morning after a passionate night, covered in bite marks. The way your fingers would run across them the next day, and you’d hit him for being so careless.

Scratch that; he didn’t just love your neck; he loved everything about you. He loved everything you hated about yourself, and you knew that. The way he’s looking at you has you breathless and you felt the butterflies multiplying in your stomach when he carries you from the door to the bed.

As he crawls on top of you, you couldn’t think of anything else in the world. You had him right there in front of you, and that was all you ever need. You knew deep down that in the early morning hours, you would hate yourself, but you don’t care. You wasted so much time trying to train your heart to belong to someone else when all along, you both knew he owned it. So, you drown out these thoughts as clothing is quickly scattered across the room. But before goes went any further, Jack stops his actions and looks at you once again, a questioning look crossing his darkened eyes.

“Before this goes any further, tell me you love me.” He pauses, his eyes holding a thousand emotions. “Tell me that you’re heart is mine.”

You whisper that it’s his a thousand times. You meant it when you told him that all those months ago, and you’ll mean it forever. For some stupid, god damn reason, you knew that if Jack Hughes were the sun, you would gladly change your name to Icarus. If he was the moon, then you are the tides that he pushes and pulls. If Jack belonged to you, to you belonged to him, well...you don’t have to imagine that anymore. He is your’s, as you are his. 

Old habits die hard, but they are not immortal and you are only human. A human who make mistakes and will have to pay for them, but also a human whose heart beats in tandem with one other person. You now understand, lying there as he continues the assault on your heart, that your soul was made to complete his. You now know that no matter what you do, how hard to try to get away, that you’re no better than a moth to a flame when it comes to him.

#hockey #hockey boys #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fic #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #angst #anaheim ducks #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #nhl hockey

[mistiell]

Nobody Better than You

Eddie Munsons x GN! Reader

Summary: Eddie gets a little insecure after some asshole says something about your relationship. You, being the lovely partner that you are, assure him that he’s the only one for you

Warnings: Established relationship, insecure Eddie, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: Yes, I did use one of my own prompts for this fic. No, I am not sorry.

Challenge for you: Try to find the prompt. The list of them is here. Go nuts

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Eddie Munson is not an insecure person. In fact, he’s one of the most confident people you know. He’s always been unapologetically himself and if someone didn’t like it, well then they could just look away. That’s one of the many, many qualities that attracted you to him.

However, that doesn’t mean that other’s words don’t hurt.

You’ve been dating him for just over six months at this point and people at school have had plenty of not so great things to say. You and Eddie are total opposites in their eyes, an odd couple to say the least. He’s perceived as this big, bad metalhead “freak” and you’re the goody two shoes of Hawkins. Flawless grades, honour roll since freshman year, never rebelled against anyone or anything as far as anyone else knows.

What they don’t know is that you and Eddie have a lot more in common than they think. You like the same music, the same movies, and even have some of the same hobbies. He’s corrupted you a little, sure, but nothing like what everyone else suspects.

Most of the time, it’s easy for him to brush off the comments your peers make about your relationship. They don’t know him and he doesn’t know them, so why should he care what they think? Sometimes, though, certain comments can get under his skin.

Which is why you currently find yourself with your boyfriend laid between your legs, his head on your chest while you play with his hair. You know something’s eating at him by how he’s been acting all day. The first thing that tipped you off was that his usually playful and upbeat demeanor is more sullen and lethargic than it should be. The second was that tonight was supposed to be date night. However, he insisted on staying in, blaming the sudden change of plans on the rain despite the fact that it was drizzling at most.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Your voice seems almost deafening when it breaks the silence despite how soft it really is.

“Mhm.” He hums, nuzzling his face into your chest and sliding his hands under your shirt, thumbs brushing lovingly against your skin.

You sigh and chew on your lip, staring at a spot on the ceiling and running your fingers through his hair before speaking again, “I don’t know how much I believe that.”

He’s quiet for a moment. You can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he contemplates what to say, “S’nothing.”

“If it’s got you upset, it’s not nothing, Eds.”

He lifts his head to look at you, big, brown doe eyes boring into yours. His gaze roams your face for a moment and you let him stare, hands coming up to brush his bangs out of his eyes before settling on his cheeks. He sighs and his eyes close as he leans into your touch, basking in the silence before hesitantly breaking it with a question that makes your heart clench, “Why do you love me?”

“Why do I love you?” You echo, brows furrowing as you caress his face, “Eddie, why wouldn’t I love you?”

“I dunno.” He mumbles, averting his gaze, “Some people at school were saying you could do so much better than,” He huffs a sharp, bitter laugh, “Than an idiot like me. I can’t help but wonder why you choose to stay with me when you really could find better.”

“Look at me,” He doesn’t and you soften your voice even further, “Eds.”

He finally meets your gaze and you can see tears collecting on his waterline.

“I choose to stay with you because I don’t want anyone else. I want you. Always.” He doesn’t look convinced so you keep going, “Do you remember the day we first met?“

He nods, a tiny smile tugging on his lips, “I wasn’t paying attention in the halls and I accidentally bumped into you.”

“You knocked all of my books onto the floor.”

“I almost knocked you onto the floor.” He chuckles and your heart sings at the sound.

“Almost, yeah.” You laugh, “You know, I never told you, but the second you knelt down to help me pick them up, I had already decided that if you didn’t do it first, I was gonna ask you out one day.”

“Really?” He smiles, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes, “Damn. Wish I had waited to ask you out for ice cream. I would’ve payed to see you try to ask me out,” He presses his lips to yours, “All flustered ‘n stuttering,” another kiss, “Would’ve been cute.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” You smile against his lips, fingers threading in his hair, “Saved me from embarrassing myself.”

He chuckles at that, resting his forehead against yours and brushing your noses together as you both settle into a comfortable silence.

“Y/n?”

You hum.

“I love you.”

You smile and tilt your head up to press your lips to his forehead, “I love you too, Eds.”

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #st4 #eddie st4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

[steddiehickeys]

be my mistake

pairing: jonathan byers x gender neutral! reader

tags: angst, besties w jonathan who’s in love with you, complicated feelings, reader is actually clueless, mention of steve x reader, descriptions of nervous feelings, jon does not get a happy ending lol

requested?: yes!

word count: idk tbh but it’s short

a/n: (click the title for the song for this fic) i made a gif on here for the first time bc there aren’t enough good jonathan ones. be proud of me. this is really short and it’s my first angsty sorta story so cut me some slack pretty pls

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Jonathan contemplates tapping on your window tonight; he knows that every minute longer he spent with you just caused him a world of anguish. But he couldn’t help himself.

The chilly October breeze causes his hair to tickle his nose; he pulls his beige jacket tighter to his body. The view of your house causes the pit in his stomach to grow more by the second.

He shimmies his way up the gutter pipe on the side of your house. Once he reaches your window, he sees you sitting on your bed while you listen to music and doodle in your journal.

As to not startle you, he gently taps the glass with his knuckles and he watched you turn around with a smile on your face, already knowing who was attempting to get your attention.

You quietly lift your window open and extend your hand for him to take it so he doesn’t stumble over.

It’s not like this is the first time you guys are doing this, he does this literally every other night. But your hands touching causes his heart to speed up a bit.

Whenever you guys touch, whether it’s you helping him into your room, your thighs touching each other’s when you’re in the back seat of Nancy’s car, or your shoulder just grazing him as you walk by; it always has him getting weak in the knees.

He doesn’t know when he really started to feel this way toward you, all he realized is that whenever you brought up dates you’d go on or guys you’d hook up with, it made him feel nauseous. Which is what caused him to realize how truly in love he is.

“It’s cold, Jon. Get inside so I can shut the window.” You gently laugh and pull him over the threshold of the window. His lips pull to the side in a soft smile as he stands up in your room and takes off his jacket.

“I thought you said you and Will were doing some sort of movie night tonight while Joyce works?” You sat back down on your bed gathering your colored pencils into your bag.

He picks at a loose thread on his shirt and he closes his eyes and shakes his head, “Y-Yeah! He decided to go over to Mike’s for some D&D thing they’re doing, so I decided to just, you know, stop by.”

He feels a plethora of emotions because seeing your smile in response to what he just said made him melt and cause butterflies in his stomach, but it’s also the reason he stares at his ceiling at night, unable to sleep.

“Well, I’m honored to be the person you decide to hang out with.” You chuckle softly at the man still standing at the end of your bed. “I wanted to talk to you about something anyway! So, you know how I’ve gone out with Steve like four times now? I wan-”

You pause when Jonathan sits at the end of your bed and sighs along with a nod. “Is everything okay?” You scoot so you’re sitting next to him.

He looked at you and just stared for a second.

Should he tell you everything? Tell you how he’s been feeling for the past months? Tell you that you’re all he thinks about all the time? How when you talk it’s literally the only thing holding his attention? How even if everyone in the world suddenly started hating you, he’d still love you till the end of time?

After his mind racing and another one of his cuticles becoming victim to his anxiousness, he opens his mouth to say something before squeezing his eyes shut quickly again and sighing.

“Just an annoying headache—what were you saying before?”

You smile gently before continuing your story about you and Steve. Jonathan can feel his throat becoming hot with the tears he’s holding back.

Why must you be so oblivious, Y/N?

Someday he might have the balls to tell you, but for now. He’s okay with hurting if it means he gets to be a part of your life.

#this man has been through enough i’m sorry #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers #jonathan byers angst #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers smut #jonathan byers one shot #stranger things #stranger things headcanon #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things volume 1 #stranger things 4 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 2 #jonathan byers x you

[too-many-baes]

A Game of Jealousy

Pairing: fem!reader x Dean Winchester

Warning(s): Alcohol consumption, jealous! ex boyfriend

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: Welcome to the first day of Non-Stop August! Starting off with a classic Dean one shot, because who doesn’t love a little bit of the handsome ol’ Dean Winchester ae? Hope you all enjoy and that you’re all buckled in for the ride of a fic a day!

                                                              *********

Still no show Bianca, I'm starting to get nervous.

You place your phone down and try not to tap your nails against the chipped and fairly sticky surface of the table you were currently sat at alone. The reply comes quickly, the abrupt buzzing of metal against wood making you snatch the device back up.

Calm down hun, it's only been 10 minutes. I bet he'll be pulling into the car park as we speak.

An agitated grumble escapes your lips and your fingers begin a tirade against the table.

Of course Bianca would say that, this whole thing had been her idea. If only you had friends that allowed you to be more complacent. You had been quite happy wallowing about your now 7 months ended relationship. The name ‘Jacob’ only elicited a faint stabbing in your chest, unlike the initial daggers and claws it had felt like. That was what you called progress. Bianca, however, called it being ‘hung up’.

“I know you don’t want to hear it but he is out there having fun. Why is it fair that you’re miserable and he’s not?”

She had a point, although being set up on a date was hardly your post break up style. You weren’t the proactive go-get-‘em type when it came to dating, and far preferred the sit back, wait, and hope something falls in your lap route. It had worked for you in the past, but Bianca clearly wanted your blues to be over faster than that.

The opening tinkling of the old fashioned bell hung over the bar door had you looking up hopefully. It wasn’t your date that had entered, but you may have preferred if he had been.

The man was taller than you with short brown hair, hazel eyes, and a chiseled jawline. He looked far more rugged than the jock types you liked to go for, donning jeans that had seen better days, and a white t-shirt with a flannel and jacket over top. He seemed to pay little attention to the bars surrounding, giving off the air of someone who was familiar with the place or someone who really needed drink.

That metallic buzzing pulled your eyes off the man who had seated himself at the bar and ordered a bourbon, and down to your phone where bad news awaited you.

This sounds like it’s an excuse, I swear it’s not. My car broke down. I’m waiting on AA. Let’s reschedule? – Brody

You placed your head in your hands then pushed your hair out of your face in one motion. Leaving your hands at the base of your neck you stared at the ceiling in contemplation.

In reality you had probably dodged a bullet. Bianca meant well, but the guy was named Brody. You didn’t actually care that he’d cancelled, you were relieved really. You were mainly annoyed that you were going to have to pick yourself up, grab your bag, and leave, signaling to all the other patrons that whatever your plans had been had fallen through.

The dinging of the doorbell barely registers in your ears as you begin to grab your handbag to leave. What does though is a roaring laugh that you’d recognise anywhere. You turn around and your body runs hot as you see Jacob, your ex, laughing loudly with his friends, several of whom you’d met before. You gulp to dissipate the lump lodged in your throat as you try to plan a way to sneak past them and out of the door without being noticed. You could flee and hide in the bathroom for 10 minutes then leave when they weren’t looking. You could sneak in to the backroom and see if there was a rear door to this place.

Your brief scheming was all for nought, as one of his friends notices you immediately, tapping Jacob on the shoulder and pointing in your direction. His eyes lock on you before he lets out a version of your name that sounds panicked and strangled.

“Jacob. Hi.” You manage as a reply.

“Long time no see.” The friends that knew you split off to find a table, sensing that the interaction that was about to ensue would probably be too awkward to bear. The friends that didn’t know you trailed behind them, leaving just you and he standing by your table.

“Yeah you could say that.”

“How have you been?” The question comes off completely disingenuous as his eyes flick around the room, clearly waiting for the appropriate moment to re-join his group.

“Well. And yourself?” You ask politely.

“Yeah, really good.” He proceeds to inform you all about the promotion he got at work and the new apartment he could afford because of it while you stand there and try to keep your face as unaffected as possible. He’d been wanting that promotion for the longest time and hearing about his successes post your break-up was hardly what you wanted to hear.

“What are you doing here anyway?” There it was, the dreaded question. Jacob was on top of the world and here you were getting stood up on dates. How were you going to explain your way out of this one?

“Well actually I-”

“Here you go, vodka, lime and soda, just as ordered.” An unfamiliar arm winds its way around your waist as your look into the face of the handsome man you’d seen enter and park himself at the bar. He gives your waist a wee tug to bring your body closer, instantly reddening your cheeks in the process.

“Who’s this?” You pull your eyes away from the stranger to look back at Jacob, who looks as taken aback as you feel.

“Oh my bad sorry man,” the man says, extending out his right hand to shake, “I’m Dean, her boyfriend. Who were you?” The confused twitch in Jacob’s eyebrow doesn’t pass you by unnoticed and you relish in the feeling it elicits.

“Sorry babe,” you pat Dean’s chest affectionately before motioning to the shocked man in front of you, “this is my ex Jacob.” Now that you had caught on to Dean’s plan to help you, you were only too happy to play along.

“Oh, that ex.” He says with a raise of his eyebrows. “Well, guess I gotta thank you man. If you hadn’t let her go, I wouldn’t have had the chance with the greatest woman I know.” You let out a bashful laugh that got silenced as soon as you saw the look he was shooting down at you. You know he’s only acting but the effect he was having on you was very real.

“How long have you two been together?” Jacob asks with the first hint of actual interest in his voice since your conversation started.

“6 months.” You quickly fill in with a smile on your face.

“Babe, sorry but we have that game of pool waiting. Remember loser owes the other a favour of their choosing and I’ve already picked mine.” The suggestive lilt in his voice brings a genuine smile to your face as the discomfort and jealousy on Jacob’s only increases. You say how nice it was to see him as you allow yourself to be pulled by the waist in the direction of the pool tables. You go to excitedly squeal to Dean, but he shushes you and tells you to wait a little longer. As Jacob recovers from the ordeal and joins his friends at his table, you and Dean face your backs to them at the table so you can talk incognito.

“That was brilliant. Like amazing. The look on his smug little face when you came over, I wish I’d had a camera on me.” You ramble for what feels like minutes with Dean snickering beside you. You look at him, transfixed by his smile with beautifully white teeth, when your eyes widen at the realisation that he has no clue what your name is. You introduce yourself in a flurry, which only makes his smile wider.

“How did you know I needed help?” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before replying.

“I see a girl waiting at a table who gets a message and begins to leave. Obviously her plans fell through. And well, after that, I’m not deaf or stupid, I could piece the rest together.” You felt like you should be embarrassed by how obviously your night had played out, but the fact he had swooped in to save you somehow made it impossible .

“I hope you realise that you’re stuck with me for at least a game of pool now, and don’t think that I’m going to take it easy on you just cause I came in to save you.” You laugh and agree but you refused to start your game until you bought him a drink.

You play for a little while and lightly chat as you do. Dean asked about your relationship with Jacob and you felt like you owed him at least your honesty. You gave him the briefest run down you could of the 2-year affair, ending with you regaling how he’d broken up with you in the car park of the stadium you’d just taken him to see his favourite baseball team play as an early birthday present.

“He sounds like a real dick. He regrets his decision now, that much is obvious.” When Dean sees that his meaning was not as clear to you as he’d thought he nods his head to motion behind you. You slowly turn around to see Jacob looking directly at you while his friends laughed around him. When you caught his eye he panicked and desperately tried to find a conversation to join to mask the fact his attentions had been on you and you alone.

“Is he jealous?” Dean laughs at the smug look on your face before leaning in close to whisper to you conspiratorially.

“Did you want to make him even more jealous?” The look in his eyes was pointed and testing, an unspoken challenge lying within them.

“What did you have in mind Dean?” You say his name with a flirty edge, making your eyelids a little more closed in a joking attempt at seduction. His tongue leaves him mouth to swipe over his lips.

He saunters towards you, handing you the pool cue when he reaches you. You look at him in confusion briefly. It all makes sense when you line up to take a shot and his body encircles yours, his arms coming around you to ‘correct’ your form. His face is so close that his warm breath fans against your cheek. You caution a side glance at him as he does the same.

“You just let me know if it’s too much.” You line up your shot and take it, sinking your ball. You straighten up as he lets out an impressed laugh.

“Trust me, I can handle it.” You were being ballsy, flirty, sexy even, and you had no idea where this confidence was coming from. This was not like you at all. But with Jacob’s eyes burning into your back with every time your hand would grab Dean’s arm and every time Dean’s hand would linger on your waist, you were lapping it up. Maybe Bianca was right, this was a far better way to get over a break up.

“So what’s the deal then, you planning on taking Abercrombie and Fitch back when he comes crawling?”

“Oh he’s too proud for that.” You reply once you’d gotten over your fit of giggles, which have been coming more and more frequently the more you had drank.

“I don’t know, every time he looks over here I can see his pride fading.” You can’t help but to drink in the sight before you. Dean was leant over the table with an unwavering concentration on the shot in front of him.

You had never considered that possibility until Dean had posed the question to you, but now that you thought about it you knew you wouldn’t. Jacob was a nice guy, but just as the conversation had started tonight, it had always been about him. If you were honest with yourself, even when you’d been dating him, it had been pretty grating at times.

“So, about the stakes being a favour. You feeling up to holding the wager?” You ask teasingly. Dean stops the shot his was about to take, standing up to his height and leaning on the pool cue to look at you up and down, feeling out if you meant it.

“Careful,” he saunters up to you slowly until he’s standing in front of you, making your tilt your head back so that you can maintain eye contact, “play with fire you might get burnt.” You rise to the challenge, raising yourself to you tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

“I meant it when I said I could handle it.” You pulled back just enough so that you could look at him and see the seductive look in his eyes. Your lips are so close that if you’d have stood up just a couple of inches they’d be touching. Dean tilts his head as if he is about to cover the distance when a clearing of the throat has you two separating and looking.

There stands Jacob, looking disgruntled and awkward at the state he’d caught you both in.

“Yes?” Dean’s question is clipped and irritated, causing Jacob’s staunch posture to collapse slightly.

“I was hoping you and I could talk.” He stares directly at you as he speaks. You tried to hold in your laugh but a little one escapes anyway.

“No. No, I don’t think we should talk.” You say with the shake of your head. “Me and Dean were actually about to head off.” You motion your head towards the table to signify how empty it was. You had sunken all of your balls and were just down to the 8, whereas Dean had one coloured ball remaining. It was really either of your games still.

You pick up your cue and send out a silent prayer as you spike the ball forward. It remains unanswered as you miss your shot and fail to make contact with anything on the table, signifying your loss.

“Well then,” Dean reaches down to place a hand on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he does, “looks like you have a favour to pay.” Jacob scoffs at you both before turning around and storming to his table to grab his coat.

“You know, I really thought you were going to be mature about this, but I can see you’re clearly not capable of that.” He continues his irritated verbal tirade as he leaves the bar, leaving you and Dean to fall into a fit of laughter. You both concede that the game was over as you pick up your respective things and follow Jacob’s lead in leaving the bar.

It’s a lot colder outside than you remember, with both of your breaths instantly visible in the crisp air.

“I really can’t thank you enough Dean, that’s the most fun I’ve had since the break-up.” You both stand there not saying anything but also not moving anywhere either. You know he had only been doing you a favour in his flirting, but it felt so real that your heart still hadn’t stopped beating.

“Okay, well, I better be heading off then. Nice to meet you Dean.” You start to leave to head of towards a taxi stand but only make it about 10 steps before Dean barks out your name. It’s demanding and clipped and you obediently turn to face him.

“You still owe me that favour. If I don’t cash it in now I might not get another chance.”

“What did you have in mind?” You ask once you’d moved to halfway close the gap between you. Dean hurriedly covers the rest of the distance.

“Kiss me.” Your reaction is instant, grabbing the back of his head and pulling his lips down to yours. You kiss him hungrily as he traps you with his arms, pushing you closer until you’re short of breath. He kisses back just as fiercely, your hands now wandering over his shoulders and back.

The doorbell goes and you both break apart in a panic as two older men exit. One tips his hat to you with a knowing look on his face as you repay the gesture with a tight smile. The men pass and you and Dean are stood there, short of breath and eyes wandering from each other to the scenery.

“So-”

“Did you-” Your attempts to speak at the same time leave you both with a silent pause until Dean picks up your slack by continuing.

“There’s another bar just down the street, did you want to head there? I don’t know about you but I’m not ready for the night to be over.” You smile in delight, nodding your head in excitement. You loop your hand around the crook of his elbow and smile up at him through your lashes.

“Only if we can bet another favour over a game of darts.” His eyes stay on you as he lets out his reply.

“I’m still not taking it easy on you.”

“I still don’t want you to.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #no y/n #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester fanfic #spn #supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfic #supernatural reader insert #dean saving the day #jealous boyf #writing #mine #too many baes #non-stop august #too many baes non-stop august

[marroniere]

fic: strength of heart (tenderness of the soul), thranto, E, WIP, almost finished

Word count: 201,308 words so far (5000-word chapters are posted twice a week, 39 chapters overall)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, mpreg, Thrawn dealing with his traumatic past

Excerpt:

The return to the Springhawk does not feel real. The only sensation that Eli can find remotely grounding is the pain from the blaster burn; the bolt only grazed his shoulder when he shielded Thrawn, but he can barely move his arm now.

The chip with the data thief program and all the ship records is in Eli’s pocket; he can tell he will have a lot of fun deciphering that.

The warriors carry the tied, unconscious Grysk prisoners to the brig. In the medbay, the medics clean Eli’s wound, and then he gets bacta and painkillers. Thrawn goes to the bridge for a quick conversation with Kharill but promises to return.

As Eli watches the medbay ceiling, his heart is still pounding. Reality comes back to him in small increments. Short, simple thoughts. They have won this battle. They have a chance of locating the Grysk homeworld and bases as well, and it might mean no battles with the Grysk invasions anymore.

Tonight, he, Eli Vanto, is going home with his husband and his crew.

He tries to send messages to everyone on Naporar, but all he gets is a pale grey dot on the screen that means no connection. No matter. He will do it again when the Springhawk is closer to the nearest triad transmitter.

“We’re going home,” Eli mutters when Thrawn comes back. “In the end. Can you believe it?”

Thrawn plants a light kiss on his temple.

“There was a moment, I will admit, when I started to doubt that. Not for long, however.”

He reaches for the painkillers left by the medic on the stand by Eli’s bed.

“Not this again,” Eli hisses. “You can’t have them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, y’know.”

Thrawn’s response is a deadpan stare.

“Your suggestions are most welcome, Eli Vanto.”

Eli glances at his shoulder, a blistering red expanse of skin under the bacta patch. He contemplates his situation, but not for long. The shoulder hurts, all right. But the idea of potentially conceiving a child with Thrawn on the Springhawk…Eli finds it too good an opportunity to miss. This would have been quite the story. It’s not as if he has a lot of people to tell it to, so it’s purely for his own sake, but it’s quite the story nonetheless.

“Ah,” he decides, “fuck that. How much time do we have?”

“Pellaeon and Faro wish to meet us,” Thrawn says. “So does Ar’alani. Uingali and the Garwians, as well. They all need an hour to assess the damage.”

“Your quarters, then.”

“I have a better suggestion,” Thrawn says.

“I’m not—” Eli suspects his face must be all flushed red at this point. “We’re not doing it here. ”

“I was not suggesting to do it here,” Thrawn says, his voice innocent. “I would prefer a modicum of privacy.”

Eli studies his face for a few seconds. Then he realizes.

“If you say ‘supply closet,’ I’ll shoot you. I still have one healthy arm, mind you—”

“The supply closet, like my quarters, can easily be locked from the inside with the captain’s code cylinder,” Thrawn says. “But unlike my quarters, one of the supply closets is situated on this deck, which will leave us more chances to stay unnoticed.”

Before Eli has a chance to answer anything, Thrawn adds, “Besides, it makes for an entertaining story.”

“Supply closet, kark’s sake,” Eli mutters. “Promise you’ll never tell this to our children.”

Instead of an answer, Thrawn gives him one of those enigmatic stares that say all too many things at once—and kisses him again.

#eli vanto #grand admiral thrawn #thranto #thrawn #thrawn thursday #thrawn trilogy #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn books #thrawn ascendancy

[deadlynavigation]

request: Loki x reader. Reader and Loki have been dating for a while and he finally agrees to bring her to Asgard to meet the family. Thor welcomes having a new sister, and Frigga welcomes having a daughter but Odin is not impressed. The three band together to convince Odin that the reader is good for Loki. Things end happy. Lots of fluff and angst pls!!

The Welcoming

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, family, almost-anxiety attack

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, my writer's block dropped in. Bear with me lol.

As always, lmk if there are any warnings I missed. Requests open, navigation is at the bottom of this fic.

Part Two

I don't own Marvel. Pls don't come after me.

Do not plagiarize or translate any of my works or their included assets.

Loki’s always the first to wake up.

He loves the calm of the morning, the feeling of not having to do anything or worry or approach the day just yet. Just taking a moment to still. To admire the day. To admire you- his fiancee.

It's the same this October morning.

The god’s been up for a few minutes, still blinking the sleep from his eyes and slowly stretching out his legs. He does it all very slowly and quietly, trying not to rouse you from your sleep. No, it’s too early for that. You don’t need to be up for another half hour.

You shouldn’t have to get up at all, Loki thinks with a grumble. But you’ve been so insistent about meeting his family, his parents and brother, that he couldn’t hold his strict no-meeting rule for long. Besides, seeing your smile when he agreed was so worth dropping it.

But today’s the day- the day you meet the people who raised him. He’s probably more nervous than you will be.

Loki buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent to calm himself. He can’t stop himself from pressing a couple kisses to your collarbones too, and from there you cheeks. His lips glide to your forehead, where he lingers to take you in. From the flyaway strands of hair to your flannel-covered legs, you are perfect.

Loki loses track of time as he places his forehead against yours. His lips are still chasing any area of your skin they can reach, until finally, you start to squirm.

The god backs up (but still keeps a gentle hold on you) as sleep leaves your body.

“Good morning, my love,” Loki murmurs when your eyes open. They blink the blurriness away, the e/c colour brightening.

“Hi baby,” you respond with a rasp in your voice. You snuggle into your lover closer, arms coming up onto his chest while he pulls you in further and plants a kiss upon your head. A yawn escapes your mouth, the peace overwhelming your sensors.

“Did you sleep well, Y/n?” Loki whispers into the room.

“Very well. Did you?”

“With you next to me, I find it impossible not to,” He responds, sincere love a welcome undertone in his answer.

“Silver tongue,” you mumble, burying your blushing face into his torso further.

“You inspire it, love. Now, are you ready to face the day?”

“Nope.” You burrow deeper into your lover and the blankets.

Loki stares at you in bewilderment, confusion setting onto his face. Have you not been begging to meet his family for months? And now you… don’t want to?

“Y/n, my love, were you not the one who insisted upon this? For almost a year?”

You turn to face the ceiling, trying to wake yourself up. “I was. But now I regret it.”

Mortals baffle Loki.

“How can one go from absolute insistence to refusal in less than 12 hours?”

“Hush, Loki. I am well aware of what I have asked, and I’ll end up going to meet your family anyways, but let me live in denial for a couple minutes.” You bring your hands up from Loki and slowly crack your knuckles while your lover tries to contemplate your words. Eventually, though, he gives up, and he kisses you before rising from the bed.

Once the god has magicked himself the appropriate clothing and finished his morning routine, he glances at the bed, expecting you to still be comfy under the blankets.

“Which dress is good for meeting ancient gods that are also my future in-laws?” You question from Loki’s left. He spins around, startling at the sight of you standing right next to him.

“My love, don’t scare me like that. My heart rate is already atrocious.” Loki puts a hand to his heart and exhales deeply.

“Oh well. Now you feel a fraction of what I’m feeling. But seriously, which dress?”

*____*

It takes a fair bit of time for you to gather yourself after the trip to Asgard, trying not to faint from the dizziness and anxiety on the inside while looking somewhat presentable on the outside. Loki, being the wonderful god that he is, notices your lament, and turns to you after dropping his hands from his now smoothed-out clothing.

“Are you all right, lovely?” He coos, placing his hands on your waist and bending down to reach your face.

“Of course, yes.” You respond, cringing at the sound of your voice. It’s breathy and worry-riddled and a dead giveaway that no, you are not all right.

“Calm down, love. Soothing thoughts, yes? Deep breaths.” Loki places his forehead against yours and sets a slow pace of inhales and exhales.

It’s not long after that you start to come down. Your mind isn’t going a thousand miles anymore, and your breathing is even- all thanks to your fiance.

“Thank you, baby.” You tiptoe to kiss his cheek lightly.

“Of course, my love. Now, we should get going, unless my brother has decided-”

“HELLO, DEAR SIBLINGS!” You hear a shout that could be compared to a war cry coming from the rainbow bridge, and turn your head to the source. Loki, meanwhile, cringes into your hair before turning to where your gaze falls.

“Hello, Thor,” Loki calls somewhat grudgingly, but you can see the light in his eyes. He’s happy to see his brother, no matter what he tries to cover it with.

“Brother!” The other god yells, running up to Loki and trapping him in a bear hug. It lasts a solid minute, and after Thor drops Loki, he heaves in gulps of air while rubbing at his chest.

“And this must be the mortal,” Thor turns to you. Loki does as well, apologising with his eyes as his brother approaches you with open arms (quite literally). You smile before being lifted off the ground and pulled into the tightest hug you have ever received.

“Hello, my lady! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” You grin, returning the hug until he lets go.

“Finally, you say,” You turn your gaze to Loki.

“Brother, did Mother want us to meet her immediately?” Loki turns away from you, scared of the fire in your eyes, even if it is a façade.

“Yes, that’s what I’m here for. To guide you two to her and Father.” You don’t miss how Loki tenses at the word father, his posture straightening and hands flexing into fists.

“Then let us go,” Loki responds, letting his brother lead the way.

Your lover falls into step with you, grasping your hand as nerves start to set in. You squeeze his hand three times, not risking verbal comfort. Loki has told you many times that Thor being around means no verbal comfort is to be exhibited- probably a pride stunt, but you’ll respect it nonetheless.

So you walk the length of the bridge, Thor spurting out random facts about Asgard. By the time you arrive at the grand palace, you’re an expert in the realm’s history and culture.

The grand palace- a sight to behold. It looks to be made of pure magic, and the interior is no different. Chambers and halls stretch on for miles, decorated with only the best artwork and furniture.

Except for now, there’s a future in-law waiting to greet you.

“My son,” Frigga Freyrdottir exhales, a weight lifted off her shoulders at the sight of her eldest son, safe and happy and home. She rushes to hug him, the two staying in the embrace as they whisper heartfelt greetings to each other.

Once Frigga lets go, she turns to you. “Hello, darling. Welcome to the family,” she says, warmth evident in her tone. The goddess goes in for a short but sweet hug, wrapping her arms around you as though you were her own daughter. You don’t mind at all.

“Hello, Frigga. It’s an honour to meet you.” You reply, returning the hug before letting go.

“Oh, none of that. Mother will do just fine if you so choose.” She smiles at you before turning to Loki, who looks as though he’s relaxed from the tension at the bridge.

“I like her,” Frigga whisper-shouts to her son. Loki rolls his eyes, but not before trying to conceal a grin. He’s just glad his family is able to get along.

“So, darling, what are your hobbies? Favourite books? Painters?” Your future mother-in-law questions, wondering where in the palace would most interest you.

“Well, I love Dante Alighieri’s works- he’s always been a favourite author of mine.” You respond. It’s true- Loki finds Dante’s writing scattered about your house most days.

“You have good taste. Dante is a skilled author, and we have almost all of his books in the royal library,” Frigga beams. She knew she liked you, and this is only further enunciating her impression of you.

You’re about to start fangirling over the palace’s ownership of the books when an old man bursts into the hall, golden eye patch adorned upon his face. He storms through the chamber, stopping only when he reaches you, Loki, Thor and Frigga.

The entire time he’s been in the room, Loki has not relaxed. His shoulders are tense, his hands clench in and out of fists, and his jaw looks as though it is as hard as steel. You glance over at him as the man, who you assume is Odin, stalks closer, and you reach for his pinky. Without thinking, the god hooks his with yours.

It’s been years since Loki’s had to deal with Odin. Years of uninterrupted peace with you, which he never wanted to end. And now, it’s all gone with the echoing footsteps of his father.

“Hello, Father.” Loki says once the man stops in front of them.

“Loki. Why is there a mortal in my palace?” The man responds, tone clipped and impatient.

“This is my fiancee, Father. Y/n. We have-”

“Get her out of my realm. No son of mine will marry a mere mortal- you will wed another deity, not settle for this… scum.”

You’ve stood in silence for most of the exchange, but when the man crosses that line, you step forward, slipping your hand in Loki’s and squeezing lightly.

“Sir, just because you’ve lived for thousands of years and rule Asgard doesn’t mean you get to be an absolute bitch.”

The words echo throughout the chamber. Frigga moves her hand to her mouth, trying to keep the laughs at bay.

Loki stands in shock, his admiration for you tripling. He squeezes your hand back with his mouth slightly open and eyes wide.

Thor looks as though he’s a child with a fluffy dog. In awe and joyous but still distracted by his surroundings.

Odin, though, looks ready to murder someone- namely you. He’s stopped fully in front of you and has straightened his posture. Too bad you’re five inches taller than him and he doesn’t appear intimidating in the slightest.

“Get out.”

“Sir-”

“Get. Out. Of. My. Palace.”

*____*

You and Loki stroll through Asgard’s centre, hands swinging between the both of you as you glance over the merchants selling their products.

“I’m sorry, love. I was not aware he would be so cruel towards you.” Loki breaks the silence that’s been present since you were ushered out of the castle.

“I deserved some of it. I mean, you can’t just go up to a centuries-old deity and insult him.” You purse your lips in dejection. “And besides, he was just as bad to you. How are you feeling about it?”

Loki keeps moving his feet, breathing evenly and pacing himself. “I’m used to it, but that doesn’t make it easier to confront.”

You lean into your lover’s shoulder, humming in response. You can’t offer Loki verbal comfort- what does one say in this situation? So instead, you settle for touch.

“Thank you, love.” Loki murmurs after a minute. You look up at him in confusion- you have done nothing worthy of thanks.

“What for, baby?”

“Being with me. Not running away from my family. Wanting to meet them, to be exposed to yet another part of my life that even I hide away from.” Loki looks up towards the colourful sky to hide his glassy eyes.

You stop in the middle of the road for a minute, touched by Loki’s confession. He stops as well.

“So thank you,” The god whispers one last time, leaning in to plant a small kiss on your lips.

It shocks you out of your reverie, and your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “Loki, we are in public.” You hiss.

“And I am the crown prince of this realm. I am able to kiss my love in public if I so choose.” And he kisses you again to prove a point, but this time, you relish in the feeling, not backing away for the sole reason of Loki not doing so either.

“Let’s head back to the palace- I have an idea,” Loki whispers through a growing grin after the two of you pull apart. He may just get Odin to accept you yet.

(Navigation)

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki god of mischief #x reader #marvel #requests #fluff #angst #two parts #two shot #loki x you #loki odinson #marvel x reader #loki x y/n #loki odinson x reader #fanfiction #thor x reader #frigga #frigga's b+ parenting

[warpedlegacy]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @a11sha11fade! I’ve been making a great deal of progress on my post-Trespasser fic and having a ball figuring out the characters of Cullen’s siblings. Mia was the first to become fleshed out, so here is a little bit from the end of my most recent chapter from While Time Remains: 

“The Inquisition is over,” he confesses flatly. “Disbanded by official decree. Tess is no longer Inquisitor, and I am no longer the Commander of her army.” 

“Maker’s breath…” Mia raises a hand to her mouth as she contemplates all this could mean. “Start at the beginning.” 

He does. The full story takes most of the night to tell, and for once Cullen leaves nothing out. Not even the worst of it. Not even Kinloch Hold or the disasters of Kirkwall. Though it tears old wounds open afresh and leaves his heart bleeding on the table between them, he tells her. He owes Mia this much, for all her years of patient impatience. He’s finished dodging, finished running. He shares burdens heretofore only ever confessed to Tess, in the darkest recesses of their private sanctuaries of Skyhold. 

When at last he has finished, they’ve gone through most of the kettle of tea and a second bowl of stew each. Cullen waits quietly for Mia to collect her thoughts, and the house creaks around them. He feels wrung out, like day-old laundry. Turned inside out and left to dry. He wipes unshed tears away and takes in deep, steadying breaths. It smells of rosemary and root vegetables and lavender in the kitchen, and pine wafts in through the open windows. 

She’s shaken and pale by what he has told her, but where he’d feared pity or anger, he sees only love. Sadness too, yes, but mostly love. 

“I knew it was bad, the way you always dodged my questions, but…” She cuts herself off, leaning back to stare out the window. Crickets chirp and the house creaks. This has been home for her ever since their flight out of Honnleath, he recalls. That’s over a decade ago now. And all that time, what homes Cullen had managed to scrape out of his circumstances have been stripped away, one after the other. 

It will be good to feel settled again. Or… for the first time. 

“So what happens now?” she asks finally. 

He rubs his hands over his face, through his hair, then tilts his head up to the ceiling. “I wish I knew.” 

“Well, I hope it goes without saying, but you can both take your ease here for as long as you need.” 

“Thank you.” It means so much to him, this easy hospitality, and he wonders at how foreign a concept it’s become since first leaving home. 

But something has Theresa quietly terrified, he can tell. And he strongly suspects it has to do with the reason she's lost the Anchor. And the person behind it. He swallows the name like a bitter drink, before its taint can poison this moment. But it echoes through his mind anyway. The same question that’s been plaguing him since Halamshiral. 

Solas… What have you done to her?

Tagging @dreadfutures and @kantrips, but as always no pressure! <3

#wip wednesday #dai fanfic #cullen rutherford #mia rutherford #theresa trevelyan #while time remains #post-trespasser

[peachsayshi]

I wish you would write a fic where the reader is a witch trying to cure her cursed boyfriend (Gojo was turned into a cat) and the local apothecary owner (Geto) has been helping meanwhile sparks are flying between them (ends in a poly relationship <3)

I??? Love???? This?????

Can we just...kind of roll with this idea for a second? (minors & ageless blogs)

A witch still learning to adjust to her powers sought out help from her warlock lover, but one unfortunate incident turned him into a beautiful cat. 

His pale skin now coated white fur, blue orbs staring doe eyed at you like jewels as he purrs and nuzzles closer into your arms.

You were distraught. There was absolutely nothing you could do to save him. Try as you might, you cast spell after spell but Gojo merely arches his back and nips at the carpet of your quaint home.

You travel through every neighboring village, seeking out anybody who can reverse this curse on your lover. Days and nights pass, with  your sweet pet in your arms, until one day you find yourself standing in front of the most beautiful apothecary you have ever laid your eyes on.

The door was practically hidden by the overgrown vines, and you can barely make out the name plastered on the front but once you step foot indoors your breath is taken away by the beautiful sight. A long wooden varnished counter separated you from the colorful viles that were shelved from floor to ceiling.

Gojo leaps from your hands, and parades around the shop as they curl and rub their body against the panels of the counter, all the while you were busy taking in the soothing scent of rosemary and eucalyptus. There was a chandelier above you, lit up with candles that had wax drippings pouring down the white cylinders, and on the walls were bouquets of dried flowers that hung in decorative fashion.

The real surprise was when the owner of the shop stepped from behind the curtain, tall and broad, with long black hair cascading down his back. He wore a simple white top, tucked into a pair of fitted black jeans and dark boots. His long slender fingers were adorned with earrings, each one had an intricately placed jewel on it.

So flustered by his beauty, you stammered as you bashfully admitted to what happened. Suguru gave you a gentle smile before reassuring in a calm voice, "let's see what I can do to help"

Transforming an animal back to a human proved to be difficult, as there was only one potion that could work. Suguru confessed that it would take months to complete. Instead of journeying back home, you agreed to say and help out with his shop. Each day passed and the two of you grew to form an unlikely friendship, and even Gojo found himself living comfortably in this new state.

But one night changed everything, and suddenly the tension between you and Suguru unraveled on his bed sheets. You panted softly as his lips traveled all over your body, his low voice murmuring how beautiful you looked. You trembled against his touch, until your pleasured cries reverberated off his walls. 

You were torn between two men, and when the day came to return your lover back to his original form you were both elated and heartbroken. 

What you weren’t expecting was Satoru’s small gasp when he gazed upon Suguru. The two of them stood there in silence, a tint of pink matching both their cheeks and you were left confused. They spoke but Satoru’s voice shook and Suguru could barely maintain eye contact. 

When you asked Satoru about it as you packed up to leave, he revealed that he and Suguru were childhood best friends, who eventually grew to love each other. 

“But that’s in the past...” 

You didn’t know what prompted you to bite your lip, to reach for his hand before contemplating that he didn’t have to walk away so quickly. You understood the reasons behind his love, expressing your new found feelings and watching something light up in Satoru’s eyes. 

You didn’t leave as planned, and instead woke up the next morning with Suguru breathing softly against your neck and Satoru holding you closely by your waist. 

I wish you would write a fic where...Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit) 

#ask game #peach and friends 🍑🧡 #satosugu au #Gojo Satoru au #Suguru Geto au

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Oh Baby! [Spencer Reid x fem! reader]

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From this Anon prompt - “you're drunk, you have sex, the only problem is that you hate each other, and you think you're pregnant so you have to deal with it (you're not, it's just late)”

Not me posting two fics in one day! I like to think of this as a prelude to Odd Socks which I posted earlier. Mild hints at smut, drinking and bad language. Enemies to lovers.

WC: 3.8k

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Spencer Reid was not your favorite person. He wasn’t even in your top twenty. Or fifty. Or even a hundred.

Working with him was a chore. He was constantly correcting you, always had to be right and you found it exhausting. After four years of working with him you’d all but reached the end of your tether.

You just tried to distance yourself from him the best you could which was easy in the field but not so easy when Penelope insisted everyone go out for drinks. Everyone. Including the anti-social Doctor Reid.

Even with copious amounts of wine in your system, he was no less annoying.

���Statistically speaking, one in five American’s-“

You cut him off when you started to make a high pitched squeaking noise. Spencer and the rest of the team turned to look at you with frowns on their faces.

“What was that?” Spencer asked in confusion.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you sipped your wine. “That’s just the sound my brain makes whenever you speak.”

You saw Spencer’s jaw clench the way it always did when you insulted him; it was his way of trying to bite his tongue and not rise to it.

But he’d also had a few glasses of wine and try as he might, he couldn’t hold back this time.

“It surprises me to know you have a brain.” He scoffed.

You growled at him, literally growled like a dog before you threw back your wine and got up from the table.

“I need another drink.” You spat before storming away.

You ordered a drink and were waiting to pay when he sidled up next to you.

“What’s the matter Y/N? You can dish it but can’t take it?” He was smirking at you and you wanted to slap that stupid look off of his face.

“Just leave me alone Reid.” You rolled your eyes. You didn't want to get into a fight with him, not here.

“I find it funny that I’m expected to just take the insults you throw my way but the second I bite back you go running.” He folded his arms, his expression telling you he found it anything but funny.

“I’m ducking smart.” You growled again. “I have a higher than average IQ but you are always belittling me and making me feel like the stupidest person in the goddamn room!”

“That’s what this is about?” He frowned a little, his arms falling back to his sides. “I’m not trying to belittle you Y/N. I’m trying to challenge you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’ve never met anyone who can keep up with me. I’ve never met anyone who can give me a run for money. It’s nice having someone almost as smart as me around.” He smirked a little, accentuating the word almost.

“You were so close to saying something nice.” You scoffed, tossing a note on the bar before grabbing your drink and turning your back on him.

You started back to your table but he was quick to catch up with you and you felt his large hand on your shoulder.

“Does it always have to be like this?” He asked when you turned back to face him.

You contemplated this for a moment before you stepped out of his grasp.

“Yes.” You spat and then you continued back to the table.

***

You groaned loudly as you peeled your eyes open and the sunlight hit your retinas. Clearly in your state last night you’d forgotten to close the curtains.

You’d had more than your fair share of booze last night and your head was pounding. At least today was your day off. God you hoped you didn’t get called in on a case.

You wriggled yourself up against your pillows and ran your fingers through your tangled hair.

At around the same time you realised you were naked was almost the exact moment a small grumbled startled you.

You practically screamed, turning over to see the other body in what you assumed was your otherwise empty bed. He had his back to you, his head buried under the pillow.

You didn’t remember meeting anyone last night, let alone bringing someone home.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice making your head throb.

The man grumbled again and when he spoke his voice was muffled under the pillow.

“Jeez Y/N keep it down, my head is pounding.”

You froze. You would know that voice anywhere. That voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you.

You grabbed the pillow and lifted it from his head. As expected you were met with messy, brown curls.

“Reid?” you yelled even louder than before. “What the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Please, keep your voice down.” his voice was low and croaky. He rolled onto his back and you could see his eyes were bloodshot, probably from all the alcohol. He was also shirtless too and you would be willing to bet he was wearing as many clothes as you were.

“What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Bed.” you slowed down, pausing between each word.

Spencer sat up a little, ruffling his hair.

“Well I’m naked.” he croaked. “And I can only assume you are too, which would lead one to believe we had sex.” he spoke casually as though it wasn’t the most ludicrous thing in the world.

“No.” you shook your head. “No way. There is no way I would have sex with you.”

“The current situation begs to differ.” he smirked at you.

“Nuh uh. Nope. No way.” you shook your head again. “Absolutely not. There must be another explanation. You are the last person I would ever sleep with.”

“Well trust me, you did.”

“You remember?” you frowned.

“Eidetic memory.” he smirked again, looking proud of himself. “Even when drunk. We most certainly had sex and you most defintely enjoyed the mulitple orgasms I gave you.”

“No.” you shook your head again. “No, that didn’t happen.” you swung your legs out of the bed, making sure to keep the bed sheet wrapped around your naked body.

Your clothes were just out of reach. You would have to get up to reach them.

You looked back at Spencer over your shoulder and he was staring at you.

“I need to get up, don’t look.” you spat at him.

“I’ve seen it all already Y/N, it’s all up here.” he smirked once more, tapping his head with his index finger. “I’ve got it all memorised. The swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. The small red wine coloured birthmark on your inner thigh. The way you smell. The way you taste. The way you screamed my-”

“Stop it!” you cut him off. “Stop it for christ sake.” you needed to distance yourself from him so despite knowing he was watching you, you stood up and keeping your back to him made a grab for your dress.

You pulled it over your head and covered yourself before turning back to him.

“Why are you just sitting there?”

“I was hoping you’d maybe have the decency to make me some coffee? After all I did for you last night.” he winked at you and you hated that it sent a twinge between your legs.

You had never seen this side of Reid, this confidence. You always assumed he was probably a virgin but you supposed it was always the quiet ones.

“Well you know hope leads to disappointment. Get up and get out of my apartment.” you wrapped your arms around yourself, as though protecting yourself from something.

“Now that’s just rude.”

“Reid, this was clearly a huge mistake. We were both extremely drunk otherwise there is no way we would have ended up in bed together. So let’s just agree to pretend this never happened and never speak of it again.”

Spencer chewed his lip looking as though he was contemplating this. Then he smirked again.

“Or,” he had a mischievous look in his eyes. “You can come back to bed and we can have a repeat of last night. Last night I made you come four times. I think I can beat that.”

You felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment and more worryingly, arousal. You hoped he didn’t notice what his words were doing to you.

You liked this confident side of him. There was something so hot about the way he was looking at you and talking to you. If this was how he had talked to you last night you were surprised you ended up here.

“Get out!” you forced yourself to say. The thought of getting back into bed with him was too tempting. But at least you could blame last night on the wine. If you got back into bed with him now you had no one to blame but yourself. And you knew he would hold it over you forever.

“If you insist.” he shrugged, slipping out from under the covers. He stood up and faced you, stark naked. He was hard and you had to force your eyes away from his erection up to the ceiling. He clearly noticed because he laughed.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting this.” he chuckled.

“Because you are an ass and I can’t stand you.”

“But I’m an ass who can show you a good time.”

“Good god Reid just please...please get out of my apartment.” It was taking every ounce of your strength to keep your eyes away from him. You knew if you looked back at him it would be game over. You would pounce on him and throw him back on the bed and he would win.

You kept your eyes fixed on the ceiling while he reluctantly dressed in last night clothes. Once he was fully clothed you finally allowed yourself to look back at him.

He looked so different from how you were used to seeing him. His shirt was wrinkled and he kept the top couple of buttons undone. His tie was slung open around his neck and he dangled his blazer from his finger. He almost looked normal.

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” he asked with another small smirk and you swore you were actually going to smack that look off his face in a minute.

“Very.” you folded your arms in defiance.

“Fine.” he shrugged. “See you tomorrow Y/N. Thanks for a great night.” he gave you another wink before he headed to the bedroom door.

You forced yourself to stay rooted to the spot and not go after him. You stayed put until you heard the apartment door open and close behind him.

Once you were sure he was gone, you fell back to the bed with a sigh.

What had you done? Why on earth would you sleep with Spencer Reid?

Little did you know, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

***

Three Weeks Later

“Nope. No. No way. Not possible.” you paced your apartment, muttering under your breath. “Nuh uh. Nope. Nada. Not a fucking chance.”

The knock on the door startled you, making you physically jump. You’d been expecting him, you’d invited him, but you’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts you’d momentarily forgotten.

You took a few deep breaths to try and calm your breathing before you made your way to the door.

You flung it open, he was standing on the other side looking a little frustrated that you had dragged him across town on your day off.

“Yes?” he scoffed.

You were regretting this immediately.

“Come in, come in.” you motioned Spencer hurriedly inside.

“If this is some kind of booty call Y/N, I am not interested.”

You closed the door behind him rolling your eyes.

Since your stupid drunken night spent together things had been even worse between the two of you. Spencer barely spoke to you anymore, not that you were really complaining but it was odd. He gave you the cold shoulder after you’d told him to forget all about the night you spent together.

What you didn’t realise was your words had hurt Spencer. He had been waiting four years to make a move on you but had always been too scared of the ultimate rejection. When you had come on to him that night he had been elated. It had been the best night of Spencer’s life and you’d just wanted to act like nothing had happened. It hurt, so he’d had to distance himself from you as much as possible.

“Booty call? You really think that’s what this is?” you frowned at him.

“No of course not, how could I be so stupid.” he rolled his eyes now. “God forbid you would want to sleep with me.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget it.” he grumbled. “What did you drag all the way over here for?”

Oh yes, that.

You sighed loudly, feeling sick just thinking about the words you needed to utter.

“I...I uhm...fuck. We fucked up. We made a big fucking mistake.”

“Excuse me?” He spat. “First you tell me to forget anything happened but now you are telling me it was a complete mistake? Wow, that makes me feel fucking great thanks. You know what Y/N you-”

“Shut up!” you cut him off. “That’s not what I...not like that. We just...fuck this is fucked up.” you started pacing again.

“What the fuck are you talking about Y/N?” he grabbed your wrist to stop you pacing and pulled you to a stop to look at him. He saw tears behind your eyes. “What is this about?”

You had to just say it, blurt it out. Just like ripping off a bandaid.

“I t-think...I m-might be...I’m not sure...but I’m late and I’m n-never late…” a few tears escaped your eyes. “Fuck Spencer!” you sniffed, you had never called him by his first name before. “I think I might be pregnant.”

Spencer felt the air leave his lungs, as though your words had just punched him in the gut.

The words hung in the air between you like stale smoke in a bar. Time stood still. His head was spinning.

“P-pregnant.” he choked out. “With a b-baby.”

“Yes genius.” you dried your eyes on the back of your hand.

“And it’s m-mine?”

“Do you think I would be telling you this if it wasn’t?” you spat. “Fuck Reid, say something useful!”

“I don’t know w-what to say.” he swallowed hard, struggling to grasp at a coherent thought. “Are you s-sure?”

“No.” you shook your head. “I said I think I might be. I haven’t taken a test yet, it’s probably too early. But I was due five days ago and that is not normal for me. I am like clockwork.”

He could tell how much this clearly pained you to admit to him so he knew if you were telling him this you were pretty damn certain.

“Pregnant.” He repeated, still trying to wrap his head around it.

“What the fuck are we going to do Spencer?” You started sobbing then and Spencer couldn’t help but come to you and throw his arms around you.

You tried to resist at first but then you gave in and buried your head into his chest while you cried.

He ran his large hands up and down your back and placed soft kisses to your head. It was a very strange situation for the two of you.

“Y/N I am going to be here for you every step of the way.” He used his finger to guide your chin up so you were looking at him. “You and our baby will not be alone in this ok?”

You chewed your lip trying to sniff back your tears.

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to be involved.”

“I want to be.” He stroked your cheek. “The truth is Y/N, I’m crazy about you and I have been for a really long time. I want this. Us, this baby. I want it all.” He brushed away your tears and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Spencer Reid has feelings, who would have thought.” You teased him.

He laughed a little.

“You can say something nice every once in a while you know?”

“I hope our baby has your eyes.” You smiled softly at him. “And your smile.”

“I hope they have your everything.” He replied.

He bowed his head a little to meet you and he let his lips brush cautiously over yours as though testing the waters. When he went to pull away, you gripped the back of his neck and kept him close, your mouth opening and allowing his tongue access.

It felt right. It felt like you should have always been doing this. It felt like the stars and planets aligning.

But of course, it couldn’t last. You should have known better.

***

Over the next few weeks things changed dramatically between you and Spencer. It was amazing how this had brought the two of you together and seemingly washed away four years of contempt you held towards each other.

Despite the pregnancy the two of you decided to take things slow, you went on dates, held hands and had the occasional make out session but that was as far as it went, despite being desperate for each other.

This was the time to get to know each other, really get to know each other. You were going to be parents after all.

Or so you thought.

The day before you were going to take your first pregnancy test Spencer found you in the bathroom at Quantico, on the floor in tears.

You’d been away from your desk for a little while so he’d gone looking for you. He had never expected to find you like this.

He ran to your side and fell to the floor next to you, instinctively wrapping his arms around you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me.” You sobbed.

“I-I...what’s happened Y/N? Please talk to me.”

“What’s wrong?” You spat. “What’s wrong is that I just came on my period, that's what’s wrong!” You raised your voice.

“You...you’re not…” he croaked, unable to form a sentence.

“I’m not pregnant Reid.” He finished for him. Hearing you call him Reid again was weird and it didn’t sit right with him.

His own eyes welled with tears. He’d already gotten so used to the idea of having a child with you he felt his heart shatter in his chest.

“Oh.” He croaked. He had no idea what to say.

“Just go Reid.” You wiping your eyes on the sleeve of your blouse.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He sniffed.

“We don’t have to do this anymore. I’m not pregnant, I’m not having your baby. You’re free. You don’t have to pretend this was any more than what it was.”

“And what was it?” He chewed his lip with a frown.

“We were trying to force feelings that weren’t really there. We were just trying to pretend for the sake of the baby. But there is no baby. So we don’t need to bother anymore.”

Spencer’s frown deepened.

“Pretending?” he scoffed. “Y-you thought I was pretending?”

“We both were Reid and it’s ok. We just wanted to make it work because we thought we were having a child. But we aren’t so let’s just go back to normal and pretend nothing happened.”

“You expect me to pretend nothing happened?” he swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. “You want me to pretend I wasn’t excited at the thought of being a father? You want me to pretend I hadn’t started thinking of baby names and planning our future together? A future for the three of us. You think I can just pretend that baby or not that I’m not head over heels in love with you?” His words came tumbling out of his mouth so fast he barely had time to realise he was saying them before they were out.

He saw the moment you registered what he’d said. He saw your mouth fall open and your eyes widen. Understandable really, he’d just confessed his love to you in the bathroom of the BAU.

“I-I…” nope, there were no words, at least none that you could find anyway.

“It wasn’t supposed to come out like that.” He swallowed a lump in throat. “But uhm...now it’s out there I can’t very well take it back. I’m in love with you, I probably have been since the moment you walked through the door. I remember it like it was yesterday. Hotch introduced us and I knew when our eyes met you were the person I’d been searching for.” A few tears escaped his eyes.

“Y-you...me?”

“Yes you.” He laughed a little cupping your face and you let him wipe away your tears. “I’m sorry you aren’t pregnant, I’m really, really sorry, because it would be a privilege and an honour to father your child.”

“I-I had no idea you felt that way.”

“You’re a worse profiler than I thought you were in that case.” He teased.

“Oh if you're so good, tell me Doctor Reid, what am I thinking right now?” You gave him an unimpressed face.

“You’re thinking,” he moved one hand around to the base of your neck. “That I’m an ass and you’d be right. But you’re also thinking that you want me to kiss you.”

“Oh am I now?” You raised an eyebrow at him but you couldn’t help but glance down at his lips.

“Let’s see if I’m right.” He smirked and then he captured your lips with his own in a deep kiss. When you opened your mouth to allow his tongue access, he knew he was right.

When you pulled back both of your tears were all but gone.

“I guess I should say, I love you too by the way.” You told him with a shrug.

“Oh I know.” He shot you a smirk as he pushed himself up to his feet.

He held his hands out and you took them and he hoisted you to your feet.

“I don’t like cocky Spencer.” You grumbled.

“No, you love him.”

You nudged him playfully in the ribs. To your surprise he suddenly enveloped you in a tight embrace.

“I really am sorry you aren’t pregnant Y/N.” He kissed your head. “One day we’ll make one, I promise. But in the meantime,” he smirked to himself. “We sure can have a lot of fun practicing.”

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[firewoodfigs]

Hi!! Could you do "It was a hospital bed, and A slipped in carefully to lie beside B all night" for a Royai fic from that prompt list? Thank you!! ❤️❤️

hello anon!! thanks for the prompt aaaah I had a lot of fun toying with it in between work and the other shenanigans that have been cropping up this week <3 I hope you don't mind the somewhat unusual ending ahaha I dimly recall writing a few other fics indirectly responding to this prompt (here and here!) so I wanted to try something slightly different from my usual fare 👉🏻👈🏻 part of this was also originally from a two-shot I'm working on, tweaked to fit the prompt hehe. I hope you enjoy!!! 🥰

                                       +++++

Riza can think of a million reasons why hospitals are awful.

First, the food. She’s not sure if it’s as nutritious as they make it out to be; there are times when she wonders if it’s even edible. She’s had worse, of course - hospital food isn’t as bad as ration bars - but she’s quickly getting tired of eating plain yoghurt and bland porridge every day, for every single meal.

Second, the stench. Riza hates that every inch of the place smells like a victim of obsessive cleanliness; she has to resist the urge to upchuck every time the door opens and the smell of chemicals and antiseptic filters in like an unwanted guest.

Third, the fact that she’s sharing a room with a man who, at this point, is behaving more like a cat on hot bricks than a disciplined soldier is quickly driving her insane. She’d readily agreed to be his caretaker, of course; Riza doubts there’s anyone else capable of dealing with his antics and ever-growing anxiety. But after hearing him sigh and toss and turn in his bed for the fifty-eighth time that night (she’d counted, because she was bored out of her wits, and there was nothing else she could do other than sleep or stare at the ceiling, per doctor’s orders), Riza decides she’s just about had enough.

She looks at him from her bed. He’s presently engaged with twiddling his thumbs, thinking out loud.

Riza sighs and rises from her bed quietly. She brings the IV stand along with her - an unnecessary inconvenience - and carefully slips into his bed once she’s made sure that the tubes and wires connected to them are tangle-free.

“I never pegged you as an opportunist, Lieutenant,” he murmurs, despite her best efforts to be discreet. “Sleeping with your commanding officer while he’s blind?”

“You could always court martial me later, sir,” Riza deadpans. “Now scoot over.”

Luckily, he obliges without much retort. 

“Your wish is my command.”

Riza huffs. She adjusts the thin, scraggly piece of linen that the hospital justifies as a blanket - another downside of this shitty place - and makes sure he’s probably covered, warm.

“Three words,” she mutters.

“Eight letters?”

“Twelve, actually.”

Roy raises a brow. “What could it be?”

“Would you like to wager a guess, sir?”

“Not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says. Roy laughs, and it’s a tiny little sound that is so discordant with his current mood, but it’s at least genuine. “Now go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright.”

He stops fidgeting, for a while. Riza closes her eyes and attempts to fall asleep - and she actually does, for a while - at least until she hears the sheets rustling again, the movement and tension coming from beside her. She groans softly.

“You should sleep, sir.”

She feels him stiffen. Roy smiles sheepishly, looking right through her like she’s not there. It still unnerves her how this is probably going to be their new normal: him without his sight. Her as his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Riza frowns. An apology is not the answer she wants. What she wants is for him - or them both, actually - to sleep and rest and properly recuperate so that they can have a speedy recovery, so that they can get out of here as soon as possible.

“Bad dreams?” she asks, because it’s the exact same thing that’s been haunting her. (She’s lucky her throat makes it impossible for her to scream or kick up a fuss; she’d hate for Roy to stumble blindly through the room in what he probably thinks is an act of chivalry and/or heroism.)

He shrugs.

“Then and now,” he offers. His smile fades, and he lapses into an unexpected moment of vulnerability. “Hard to differentiate between day and night nowadays, too.”

And because Riza doesn’t know what to say, she simply brushes her knuckles against his.

Roy returns the gesture, drawing indiscernible patterns on the back of her hand with his bandaged one.

“Well, it’s almost midnight now, sir.”

He lets out a small laugh, but it’s painfully hollow.

Riza shifts slightly. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze - hospital beds are clearly not meant for two persons (or anything inappropriate) - but it doesn’t bother her all that much. She just wishes there’s more she can do, to comfort him. Make him feel a little less gloomy.

“It feels like I’ve been sleeping for years.”

“If it helps reduce the incidents of you falling asleep during office hours, then you should get more sleep now, while you can.”

Roy turns, like he’s searching for her, even though there’s not much closer she can be at this point. He exhales shakily. She feels his hand trembling against hers, and responds with a gentle caress. (She knows he’s still feeling guilty, probably berating himself internally about their predicament, about what transpired beforehand. And to be fair, there’s a part of her that’s still angry about all that's happened underground. They’ll probably have to talk about it, at some point, but probably not now — not when they’re both still drugged up and only half-lucid.)

“Humour me, Lieutenant.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep,” he confesses. Dimly, Riza notes that his voice has taken on a somewhat petulant edge — like a child complaining about their bedtime, but she doesn’t comment on it. Being nearly bedridden for a week is enough to drive her nuts, too. “I’ve tried counting sheep and all that shit, and it’s just — it’s not working.”

Riza sighs. She’s tired, yes, but she’s also aware that she’s probably not going to get any sleep at this rate. She tries to think of ways to stave off his restlessness. Reading is one — she can probably bore him into sleep with a Xingese recitation (she’s gotten pretty good at that lately), but she’s technically not supposed to be talking much. Alcohol is another, but neither of them are supposed to be drinking (and besides, the only form of alcohol available in hospitals isn’t meant for human consumption). Maybe chess, then. She’s not particularly keen on playing a game of chess, now (because she just wants to sleep), but she thinks it’ll help exhaust some of his boundless energy.

“We could play a game of chess, if you want. Breda was kind enough to drop a vinyl board here in the afternoon.”

“I can’t see —“

“I’ll tell you where I move my pieces.”

He frowns, clearly not liking the idea. “You’re not supposed to be talking much, Lieutenant.”

“I’m fine,” she insists, turning to pour a cup of water for herself before continuing. “I won’t have to speak much — unless you’re being a nuisance or a cheat or a fraud.”

He laughs. “I’ll be none of those things, Lieutenant.”

“Good.”

She sets up the board on his bed and helps him sit up. Riza lets him play white.

“It’s your move, sir.”

“You’ve made yours?”

“No. You’re playing white.”

“Tough. It’ll be more embarrassing if I end up losing.”

Riza smiles. “Well, we don’t know that yet, sir.”

He opens with pawn to e4. She helps him move his pieces and parrots her movements back to him. Pawn to e4, too. Pawn to d4. Same here. A closed game, not quite like his usual aggressive style of playing.

Riza watches as he frowns with intensity. It’s probably more a test of memory than strategy for him at this point. She wonders if there’s a way he can adapt to chess, to the military’s utilitarian (and frankly unsympathetic) demands now that his sight’s impaired.

(Life is so unlike chess, Riza thinks, in spite of Roy’s silly metaphors that postulate otherwise. The rules are never fixed, and the universe is always rife with uncertainty. It’s not like chess, where you can predict your opponents’ moves if you get good enough. Neither of them had expected that he’d be here right now, losing sleep and contemplating life over a chessboard while blind.)

He clucks his tongue, reciting a series of movements from memory. The Blackmar-Diemer. Riza smiles indulgently.

Still as aggressive as ever, sir.

Of course.

The game quickly becomes a round of blitz, and though he manages to open his lines and mount a rather decent attack, it’s clear that he has trouble recalling after the eighteenth move. It's still an impressive feat, though. Better than the average layperson.

“Check,” Riza announces, conversationally. Technically, she’d had the advantage, both on the board (and in real life). It shouldn’t really count, and besides, checkmate isn’t her objective — it’s to get her commanding office to sleep.

“Well-played,” Roy hums. He’s strangely still in his bed as he closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples — presumably to ease off an oncoming migraine. It happens a lot, when he’s in deep thought, when he’s over thinking. Thinking too much for his own good. “I need to work on my recall, I think.”

“I think so too, sir.”

He laughs, but the sound is again empty, foreign. It is so at odds with his usual smirks and unbridled laughter (when he’s laughing at someone else, or a joke made at somebody’s expense), like there’s an ache beneath the surface that she cannot reach.

Roy turns slightly, bumping into his dethroned king as he adjusts himself on the bed.

She blames the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to cry on her drugged-up system.

(Riza doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to how uncommunicative his eyes are. He’s always regarded each and every one of his subordinates with respect and meaning and gratitude, but he’d simply looked over the unit as if taking inventory when they had come by earlier.

But she’ll make do, Riza thinks. She has to. She’s always known him in a way nobody else has, in a deeply intimate way, like a book she’s memorised by heart.)

They fall silent for a few minutes. His lips part a little - she knows  he’s about to say something - but it snaps shut again, like he can’t bring himself to say the words.

Riza simply waits for him, like she always has; holding onto his held breath like it's the last thread of hope. She leans into his touch a little closer than necessary.

I’m right here, even if you can’t see me.

Roy smiles.

“I hope I won’t forget your face, Riza.”

#royai #royai fanfic #royai fic #sorry my lunch break is almost over so I gotta go back to work LOL but I will come back and edit this later AHAHAHAH #my new brand is 'excessive usage of chess metaphors' and man. it shows....... #lovely anon <3 #have a great week anon!!! mwahmwahmwah!!!!!! #reblogs and comments are always appreciated :")

[fanmoose12]

Hi! Can i request for a short fic abt this? Thanks! I think u would nailed it!!! 💓

hange: i can't believe we're stuck in this room together!

levi, quickly kicking the key under the door: truly unfortunate

levi knew that the door to this closet was broken. he knew that one, small, weak gast of wind was all it would take to get it shut, locking the unfortunates who forgot about precautions inside.

he knew all that, and when hange asked him to help bring a box out of that closet, he agreed without hesitation.

because farlan had said: "you have to create a moment."

and isabel added: "you need to confess to hange before someone else beats you to it!"

and erwin had adviced that "close proximity enhances romantic feelings."

and because levi wasn't a tactical genius like erwin, smartass like farlan and not even a romantic like isabel, he had to work with that he had.

and what he had was a dirty closet, covered in cobwebs and dust.

unsurprisingly, hange didn't enjoy the prospect of being stuck in a closet until someone passes through and rescues them.

as he watched four-eyes rage like a bull, banging on the door and screaming until her throat was raw, he contemplated if he should just abort the plan and kick the door down.

"you should never give up!" farlan's voice sounded in his head.

"proceed with courage and you'll be rewarded," erwin's voice joined him.

"you'll never get laid if you continue being such a lame-ass coward," isabel taunted him.

levi decided to stick to the plan until the end. the worst that could happen is that hange would tear him to pieces in a feat of rage.

not the worst way to go, levi thought wistfully.

isabel in his head gagged. erwin and farlan gave him the same disgusted expressions.

levi paid them no mind. maybe, he did have it bad for hange, and, maybe, the extent of his feelings for the four-eyed idiot was making him feel like a pathetic softhearted moron, but there was nothing he could do about it now. he tried many times, after all.

almost half an hour later, hange had finally calmed down. she plopped down on the floor next to him, panting heavily.

"we're stuck in here, levi," she declared mournfully.

"yeah," said levi, who could easily broke down that door. "it seems like we are."

"well, don't you worry!" hange gave him an encouraging smile. at the sight of it, butterflies fluttered somewhere deep in his stomach. "moblit would notice my absence and he'll get us out in no time."

if berner does it before something happens between him and hange - a confession or, even better, a kiss - he would break his nose. levi was going to confess, and he was going to do it today.

"we have nothing better to do..." levi said. "it's quite boring in here, we could talk or something. to pass the time, you know."

as soon as he finished, levi turned his face, cringing hard. he sounded like a fucking moron, he sounded like kirshtein every time he tried to talk to mikasa.

there was no way that hange would ever return the affections of a pathetic idiot like him.

"talk?" hange echoed. "yeah, let's do that! i love talking!"

levi knew that. hange liked talking, and she liked walking through the gardens in spring. she liked coffee with milk and three sugars, she liked sandwiches with fresh tomatoes and taking naps in the most random times of the day.

"what could we talk about, though...." hange tapped her chin with a finger, staring at the ceiling.

"we could talk about our feelings..." levi tentatively offered.

farlan and erwin in his head nodded in approval. isabel smiled and gave him thumbs up.

"feelings? hm, i have a lot of them..."

yeah, levi knew. hange had a lot of feelings about absolutely everything she came across. it was annoying and sometimes draining. but also, kind of endearing and amazing.

"you know, just recently i've been conducting this experiment, and it made me feel like i've never had before..."

and before he could stop her, before he could clarify that he wanted to talk about his feelings, hange's face lighted up.

levi groaned, it could only mean one thing - she was getting ready to discuss her stupid, but very important work.

levi knew hange, he knew there was no stopping her now.

and because he really was a pathetic softie, he tried his best to listen and make sense of her ramblings. hange jumped from topic to topic, gesticulating wildly. and, despite, his best efforts levi started to feel sleepy.

he leaned against the wall, taking a more comfortable position and moving just a bit closer to hange.

"mission had failed," erwin admitted sorrowfully.

"better luck next time," farlan added.

"enjoy the nap next to your crush. that's the most action you will get," isabel mercifully teased.

levi closed his eyes, hange's excited voice lulling him to sleep better than any lullaby.

____

when levi woke up, the door to the closet was open and he was all alone.

hange was gone, and in her place lay a crumpled piece of paper. levi picked up, trying to decipher hange's godawful writing.

as soon as he did, his eyes widened and a curse escaped his lips.

sorry for leaving! moblit came to the rescue, just like i predicted, but you looked so cute while sleeping, i didn't have the heart to wake you up.

also, just a friendly advice: if you want to confess your undying love to me, shorty, pick a better place than a closet. i have standards too, you know.

#if someone picks up a reference to 'pride and prejudice' i'll be very happy :') #levihan

[pixie-cocaine]

ATEEZ Reaction To: Having a wet dream about you

yourusernames: Omg can I request ATEEZ reaction to having a wet dream about their friend? (Who would start developing a crush, who would want to have a one night stand and who wouldn't care at all?) Thanks!!

A/N: These reactions are based solely off of what I think they’d do, I am in no way, shape or form, telling you that this IS how the members would handle this scenario. Like shit, I dunno the guys :/. This is a gender neutral reader reaction btw :)

(This is very explicit, you have been warned!!!)

Hongjoong ♡:

• It felt like the actual thing

• Your lips; sweet like pink lemonade and eyes staring into his with a soft sparkle that originated from his bedside lamp

• but what felt more real than anything was you

• Your scent, your taste

• Your touch...

• It was all overwhelming in the sense that he found himself breaking out of his dreaming state, breath heavy as if he’d been sprinting for hours, and a lusty sheen screening his mind from acting with any sense of rationality

• He was horny horny, dawg 💀

• I feel for that man, it’s tough...

• He could already tell that he had an...accident, before he pushed the duvet off his body due to registering the last couple twitches of his restricted cock in his shorts

• No wonder he could ‘feel’ everything so well

• He wasn’t able to sleep the rest of the night.

• Couldn’t help but begin to feel a crush blossom for you

• As y’all already know, the man gets attached to the ones he spends the most time with

• You’re no exception

• Would end up telling you about his feelings. It was eating him up inside to keep it to himself

Seonghwa ♡:

• He has no right looking this good, dawg. It literally makes me so mad lmao

• Lemme lick your face, I bet it tastes like expensive concealer and everything I’ll never have >:}

• Anywhore

• He felt feverish, even inside his dream

• It was odd; he could feel you, but he couldn’t feel you. He remembers the surreal sensation of warmth under his palms as he grabbed onto your bare ass whilst you bounced you on top of him, panting hard and clutching at his damp hair to pull his head back

• He groaned, and just as he went to switch positions, he was snapped out of his dream

• Was like “Fuckin pardon?” when he realised where he was; his empty bed, alone in his own room, no sign of you

• Frowned, pushing the covers off of him because dawg, he was heating up OwO

• Then realised the large wet spot at the front of his sweatpants

• “What the...”

• Was never the same™ 

• Everytime he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel that same heat in his hands, and he felt guilty about it. 

• Didn’t know how to approach you about it at all. What was he supposed to say?

• “I nutted in my pants because I dreamt about doing the dirty with you”

• Just wouldn’t bring it up

• Good chance he’d catch feelings. Seonghwa builds bonds with the people he knows, it’s very easy to tell that when he cares, and he would care dearly for you. Once the chance that anything intimate between you two arises, I’m sure he’d begin to think of you romantically once you’re shown in said light.

Yunho ♡:

• Now wouldn’t a flustered Yunho be a sight? Damn...

• He loved looking down at you

• The way you smiled at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling his bare chest into yours as you whispered how good he felt inside you, cooing out words of praise and encouragment 

• It was hazy, but he can still vaguely remember how you kissed him so sweetly. How your fingers smoothed his bangs away from his eyes, and how you moaned into his ear softly with each thrust

• It was only when you cupped his cheeks and spoke, did you break him out of his dream;

• “Wake up.”

• His eyes shot open

• Only a blue ceiling stared back

• “Mmm...?” Yunho sits up and rubs his eyes roughly, already aware of the blush that paints his cheeks and nose because he can feel the heat in his face

• Said ‘What the fawk 😃’ when his brain caught up with what he just experienced, as well as the stickiness that clung to his inner thighs when he moved to go get some water

• This bitch was contemplating his whole life after that

• Is ‘UwU’ with you from then on cuz a babie caught butterfwies ;(

• Rlly bad at hiding his feelings lol, you’d catch on eventually

Yeosang ♡:

• It was messy, to say the least

• Kitchen island sex? Yup :D

• The dream wasn’t at all put into play with any sense. You guys were just... in the kitchen, when you confessed your feelings and made a move on him

• A deep kiss mixed with the pounding of nervous hearts all put Yeosang in a fever outside of his dream

• “Say you like it,” You panted, using the hand on the back of his head to push his forehead against yours while the other kept you from laying onto the island

• “I like it.. Fuck, I like it”

• “Yeah?” His hips stutter when you clench your walls around him, and in turn, he lets out a choked-off gasp

• “Y一Oh my god一Yeah...”

• Damn... he was FEELING it lmao

• Funny thing is that he slept throughout the entire dream and woke up only when his foot did a little mid-sleep spasm

• Stared at the wall while frowning for soooooo fucking long

• Whole time he said ‘ya know wot, that’s real interesting 🤔’

• Then was like “Prolly just horny 😃. oh well, time to change my underwear”

• And that’s what he chalked it up to in the end. Would maybe make a joke about it to you next time y’all hung out if he’s feeling loose enough and doesn’t mull over it for too long

San ♡:

• HEATHEN

• Hold on, lemme get a half-assed feel for the man... yes... mm-hm... ah, I see... OK!

• So, from what I can tell, San would distance himself from you slightly. Maybe. 

• That night, as he lie in his bed, breath coming faster with each motion that went on in his head, he saw you in a way that he never thought would happen.

• Skin, slick with sweat and eyes like burning coals as they focused on him. There wasn’t much to remember before it was already fading, but he could still make out how much his stomach lept and spun, heart oh-so thunderous in his chest. Whatever you did with him in the dream... it sparked something inside him.

• San was in a daze as he woke up, his body not quite cooperating with him when he tried to sit up, and instead, falling limp with the next couple of attempts.

• WHEN I TELL YOU THE SOUL WAS SUCKED FROM THIS MAN AISDIUBFADEBI-

• Really just stared into space with the look of a dead man

• What did he do when he finally saw you again?

•  ✨ pretend he didn’t see shit ✨

• Not the masked uncomfort-

• Depending on whether you’re one for confrontation, he might just cave if you press him about his weird behavior enough, but be fast, because I’m sure he could push his feelings down succesfully if he tried hard enough.

Mingi ♡:

• Dude... the fucking happiness of the dream...

• Silly giggles when you’d accidentally bonk eachother while switching posititons, bright smiles when you stared at eachother after a long time, random compliments, and nothing too serious that you couldn’t find playfulness in. Even when you’d both stop smiling to let out small moans and feel the moment together, it was always lighthearted.

• FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK IM SO ANGRY-

• It was some shit you’d see at the sundance ;(

• Then he woke up-

• You were the first and only thing he thought about as he gained conciousness. He wanted you... you, you, you, just you.

• He’d never wanted anything so bad. A sudden longing that made a lump form in his throat and an overwhelming feeling of how much he’s always wanted you.

• So, like Mingi does, he strived for that goal >:D

• He made an effort to see you as many times as he could and whenever you were free to hang out. And finally, one night when you both lie in his bed and gazed thoughtlessly at the ceiling, he told you.

• “I had a dream about you, you know.”

Not me basically making a summary of a could-be fic-

Wooyoung ♡:

• Now believe it or not, this bitch is hard for me to get a grasp on. All I can say with confidence is that he has the sex appeal of a milf stripper and is kinda stubborn-

• Hmm.... bothered.

• That is the feeling it would pull from him.

• Hungry; frequent patterns of warm breath against sweat-slicked skin, mumbled curses past wet lips, nails dug into his stomach deep enough to draw blood yet barely acknowledged through animalistic films over both your eyes, and teeth furrowed into the flesh of his shoulder as you scratched at the blank canvas of his back.

• It was all raw sexual aggression from both sides. So much so, that you both practically fought during it.

“I hate you. I hate you like you don’t even know, Wooyoung,” You speak, breathless, and reach up to weave both fists into his hair, “I love you so much that I fucking... hate you.”

• Then...

• Gone.

• Just like that, the dream was replaced with the sight of familiar bedroom walls as Wooyoung opened his eyes, a sigh escaping past his lips when he finally pieced things together.

• “As if I wasn’t already stressed enough...,” He murmurs, staring down at the new stain on his sweatpants.

• From that point on, it’s a new habit for Wooyoung to catch sight of you and keep his gaze there; just staring when you’re not looking, and feeling terrible afterwards. He feels like he violated you somehow, and with that ball of dread in his stomach whenever he sees you, he becomes distant.

• It’s not catching feelings so much as it is a new desire.

Jongho ♡:

• Jongho, Jongho, Jongho... whatever will we do with you?

• Upfront about it, surprisingly.

• He caught feelings. How could he not when you’re one of the most breath-taking people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing?

• That face of yours, along with your voice so soft and encouraging in his ears, was enough for him to cave.

• “Just like that, baby... Just like that.”

• He doesn’t even remember the details of the dream. Just your words and kisses, which still make the touched skin of his body heat with excitement whilst he blinks down at his hands.

• He clenches them; one, twice, then lets them fall back to his sides. He doesn’t need to look into his pants to know that he’s soiled himself.

• He feels kinda... empty? After the dream. Lmao just as exhausted as San was, really, but both at the fluttering his heart when he thinks of you, and the dream itself, so cleans himself up real quick before going back to sleep. 

• The fluttering doesn’t go away the next morning.

• So... he tells you :D

• As soon as you walk through the door, holding a bag of snacks and drinks for preparation to crash at Jongho’s apartment for a little bit, he sits you down on the couch, much to your confusion at the serious face he has.

• “I know that this kind of thing can ruin friendships and I don’t want that. At all. But, I had a... dream, about you last night and now I can’t really stop thinking about you...”

• Not the pounding of his heart making him dizzy :*

#ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #Smut #kpop reactions #idol reactions #idol reader