#so glad i already have tomorrows prompt written out

[seelie-buddy]

Put your head on my shoulder

summary : alhaitham keeps you company after you had a tiresome day, but he doesn't realise when you drift off into dreamland

contains : alhaitham is glad to see you rest after you finished off a tiresome task ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person

word count : 545

The solitary silence of Razan Garden allowed it to be the perfect place where Alhaitham could visit after his work hours. It was a place he often frequented as a student, and it was during one such visit, that he had met you.

So when the scene from his memories was recreated, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon, he could only smile.

As his boots clicked silently on the stone path, he could see you sitting down beside the decorative flowers; your belongings were scattered hastily and your attention was devoted to frowning at the notebook resting on your thighs.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he approached you, making sure not to step on any of your stationery.

You glance up at him for a brief moment, and the tiresome look in your eyes was not foreign to him.

"I've been going over this equation for a while, and my solution is far from the answer."

Ah, so that's what was bothering you.

Alhaitham acknowledged your dilemma with a hum, as he glanced over your notebook.

The page was littered with numericals, lots of crossed out answers, and ink smudges.

"My entire project is dependent on getting these calculations accurate, and I've been trying for so long," you groaned, rubbing the heel of your palm over your eyes.

With how you managed to stain your hands with ink, Alhaitham was curious about how none got on your face. "When is it due?" He asked instead.

"The day after tomorrow," you answered, staring down at the miserable mess that is your notebook.

"You'll sort it out until then."

You looked up from the notebook and towards the other, who had already begun to read a book whilst you whined.

You hummed, repeating his words over in your mind. You'll sort it out.

Alhaitham's eyes drifted away from his book at the sound of your pen scratching against the page of your notebook. You began anew on a fresh, blank page; he smiled.

The sun, now fully hidden below the horizon, allowed the moon to light up the city. Alhaitham felt a weight against his shoulder, prompting his eyes to move away from his book.

Oh.

You were asleep.

How much time passed, he did not know, but he could wager up a guess of somewhere between an hour and two.

Your eyes were shut, and your hair occasionally flowed with the soft wind, and now that you were asleep, you appeared more at peace; undisturbed by the world, not a worry on your mind.

Alhaitham's eyes shifted from you to the notebook resting on your lap. The page was filled with calculations, but at the end, highlighted, was the solution. Running over the numbers in his head, he guessed you had finally arrived at the answer you were looking for.

In the life of a scholar, everyday was filled with competition and challenges; he was glad you had one burden less off your mind.

And he wouldn't allow the noise of the students walking through the garden disturb this peace you gained.

Without shifting much, he removed the headset he wore, and placed it over your ears. Now, Alhaitham smiled softly at your sleeping figure, you can rest without the world interrupting.

request, by🌙 anon :

hihi, i wanted to let you know that i enjoyed your recent diluc fic like alot♡

is it alright if i request something similar? as in, reader being tired and falling asleep on the character and they dont mind? if you dont mind could this be for like maybe al haitham?

also, could i be🌙 anon?

a/n : aww thanks nonnie! this was fun to write!!

p/s : If you have any other requests, don't hesitate to send in an ask!!

[gunnerfc]

Center Stage - Aitana Bonmatí x Reader SMAU; Part 2.5

You get asked about going to a Barça game during an interview in between shows in Barcelona and you play dumb about what the interviewer is hinting at at the advice of your manager and PR team!

CENTER STAGE MASTERLIST

You sighed to yourself as you sat in a makeup chair, your hair and makeup team fast to work as you were about to start your interview. You were glad they offered to do the interview in English, there was a smaller chance you misspoke or incorrectly translated your thoughts. As your team worked, you took the opportunity to scroll through social media to see what some of your fans were up to.

Most of them were voicing their opinions on the possibility of you dating Aitana Bonmatí given the recent outings you both have done. You had heard about her attempt to pass along her number to you on a bracelet and thought it was cute how she was using something your fans have become known for. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think the footballer was attractive. 

The entire time you were at the Barça game, your eyes were drawn to her as she played. Even if there were no rumors surrounding you two, you would still be unable to tear your eyes away from her. You so badly wanted to DM her on Instagram but after social media went crazy after her press conference you were warned that dating rumors wouldn’t be the best thing. 

You were fresh out of a long-term relationship and about to announce a new project. Having the focus be on your love life was not what your team wanted and you understood where they were coming from. However, you didn’t see the harm in trying to become friends with Aitana in the meantime. 

You were pulled from your thoughts when a knock echoed around the room, signaling they were ready for you. You took a deep breath, thanking your team as you headed toward the interview room a few doors down. Your manager was already in conversation with the interviewer, most likely telling her what she could and could not ask you. But in all the experience you had, you knew interviewers knew how to ask about things they were told not to.

You quickly introduced yourself before taking your seat across from the interviewer who introduced herself as María. This was going to be a pre-recorded interview that would go up before your last show tomorrow night. You sat quietly in your seat as the camera crew did last-minute touches before they gave a thumbs-up that they were ready.

The camera was turned on and a few seconds passed before María introduced herself to the camera and turned to you, prompting you to say hello as well. You went back and forth answering the typical questions about how you were enjoying being on tour again and what it was like to see so many fans. You made sure to answer each question genuinely, you loved getting to travel the world to see the many people who helped you get to the point you were at.

“Have you gotten a chance to explore Barcelona since you’ve been here,” María asked, reading from a small stack of notecards.

“I have! It’s such a beautiful city with so much to see and experience that I feel like I haven't gotten a chance to see everything,” you answered, a bright smile on your face as you thought about some of the things you got to do so far.

“You recently went to a Barcelona Femení game, how was that,” María asked, this time not bothering to read from her pre-written questions. You could sense where this was going and out of the corner of your eye, you could see your manager sit up a bit to listen to your answer.

“I’ve been to a few soccer games before back in the States, but something about being at that game was such a different experience. I knew the sport was loved over here but it felt like a whole new experience,” you spoke truthfully, the fans and the atmosphere at the game were something you only experienced when you were on stage. 

“What did you think of the players? Did anyone stick out to you,” you could hear the excitement in María’s voice, she wanted to be first with some inside scoop on anything that may be happening between you and Aitana. 

You quickly went through a list of players in your head that you remember hearing at the game and what you had read about before the game. “Well, obviously, Alexia Putellas. She’s one of the best from what I hear and she had a great game so I’ll go with her,” you replied and you watched María’s expression change when you didn’t say Aitana. 

“Well, you can’t go wrong with La Reina,” María laughed before going back to reading from her notecards.

You answered a few generic questions, giving a few hints about a new album coming soon. You thanked María for having you before she ended the interview and the cameras were turned on. You thanked her once more before your manager ushered you back to the room you got ready in. You didn’t bother changing as you were heading to a few more events that day.

You hated when you couldn’t be honest in interviews or when fans asked you questions but you knew how the public and media could be. It’s why your last relationship ended, speculation only added to the ultimate breakup between you and your ex-girlfriend. You didn’t want the media to ruin something else before it could even start.

You went about your day replaying your answer in your head, hoping that Aitana wouldn’t see the interview. You two haven't even spoken and yet you were worried about upsetting the Catalan. When you were back in the comfort of your hotel room, you were once again scrolling through social media reading what fans had to say about a relationship that didn’t exist. (Yet, you hoped)

[TWITTER POSTS THE NEXT MORNING AFTER THE INTERVIEW WAS POSTED]

ynupdates: Y/N in a recent interview talked about being in Barcelona as well as teasing a new album! 👀

↳ ynfan1: NEW ALBUM?! I NEED HER TO DROP SOME MORE INFO SOON OMG

↳ ynfan2: SHE DIDNT EVEN MENTION AITANA…

ynfan3: she didn’t even mention Aitana or the bracelet… 

↳ ynfan4: to be fair, y/n has hardly ever talked about her partners in an interview aside from the last girlfriend 

barçafan1: hopefully aitana doesn’t see the interview, she seemed so excited to meet y/n and give her that bracelet

ynfan5: idk why you guys are upset lmao, they arent dating and probably won't so what's the big deal

↳ ynfan6: right! like they are upset about something they all made up lol

ynfan7: maybe we should be focused on the fact that she said she’s working on a new album instead of her love life

barçafan2: she gets points for saying alexia but i was really expecting her to say aitana lol

↳ barçafan3: aitana scored in that game and had a masterclass, won player of the match and still didn’t impress her so maybe she doesn’t get points

barçafan4: wonder aitana will go to the show tonight after this...

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 15]

A Scary Good Time

TW: Language, Lots of Sexual References, Alcohol Consumption Genre: Romance, Comedy Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 0.7K Prompt: Halloween Tailgate go brrr

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: I love writing unhinged college aus Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

"Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!" The crowd chanted around you and you took a deep breath.

"This is so fucking stupid," you shook your head with a huge smile and downed another glass while Jaemin howled in front of you.

"Let's fucking go!" You heard Jeno shouting somewhere.

"Oh fuck," Jaemin stumbles on the table slightly and you hold him up.

"Careful, humpty dumpty, can't have you falling off and breaking that beautiful ass of yours," you laughed.

"FYI, I'm dressed up as Werewolf, not humpty dumpty," Jaemin's words had a slight curve to them.

"Right, right, boring," you helped him down the table, grabbing another shot glass on the way while you sat him down. "Look around, Jaem. Slutty Bunnies, Slutty Nurses, and Slutty Monsters everywhere," you gestured the whole room.

"And what are you supposed to be again?" He eyes your oversized T-Shirt and thigh highs.

"Slutty college student, duh."

"You already are one, that doesn't count."

"Okay, rude!" You playfully shoved him and laughed, "anyway, how are you holding up? I know parties aren't usually your thing, but I'm glad you came out with us anyway!" You handed him the shot glass and he smells it before drinking it.

"I'm fine," he looks around. It's true, of the friend group Jaemin tended to stay away from these kind of things, but after hearing you, Jeno, and Haechan loudly describing your escapades, Jaemin got an intense wave of FOMO and he decided, fuck it, he's going to go with you all to the next one.

But all it did was remind him how much he hated parties.

Especially when all the lights suddenly shut down.

"Boo! At least turn the music back on!" Someone yells.

"Jaem?" You put your hand on his shoulder to keep track of him. But, as soon as your hand touched his arm, he felt this intense wave of nausea rush through him, and he swallowed down whatever bile threatened to come out. "You okay, bud?"

"Mmhmm," he answered weakly. He shuts his eyes tight and turns his head upwards to ride the sudden discomfort and finally, when the lights turned on, the headache subsided. But it nearly came back when he heard all the screams around him.

"What the hell is going on?!" Someone shouts. Jeno rushes toward you both.

"Guys?!" He looked frantic.

"What? What's wrong?" You felt yourself sobering up quick.

"I can't... I can't take it off!" He tugs on the hook on his hand. He decided to do some overly sexualized Captain Hook and, while it was funny at the time, he looked near crazed trying to pry the hook off his hand.

"Okay, okay, you big baby, hand it over here," you take his hand and start tugging on the hook, but nothing happens, it doesn't budge one bit, "gee, Jen, you really shoved it in here, huh?"

"I guess so but everyone's having trouble taking their costumes off!" He looks at Jaemin and reaches for his ears.

"Dude, don't touch me," Jaemin swats his hand away and Jeno gasps.

"How'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Those ears moved."

"No, they didn't."

"They're moving right now!"

"They're not!"

"(Y/N), back me up here!" You look between them and you reach for the wolf ears on Jaemin's head and, when you tugged on it harshly, Jaemin winced.

"Ow! Don't pull my hair like that."

"Jaemin... I didn't pull your hair," you said quietly.

"What?" He looks at you, but your eyes were glued to the top of his head. Jaemin grabs his phone and looks at himself on the screen. "Holy... shit."

"We all just merged with out costumes," Jeno panics. "Well, all except (Y/N). What are you supposed to be again?"

"Slutty and broke college student," you shrugged.

"Oh, well, that's already you so there's nothing to change into."

"You're both bitches for that!" You groaned.

"But dog! You became part-dog!" Jeno exclaims.

"No, this can't be happening," Jaemin slipped out of the chair and stated pacing, and he heard you gasp behind him. "What happened?"

"Babe! You have a tail!" You reached for it and Jaemin instinctively pulled it away from you. But, realizing what he just did, Jaemin looks down at the tail that swished from side to side. "Holy shit."

"Holy fucking shit!"

"My boyfriend's a werewolf!" Your excitement betrayed your concern.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville 

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[philtstone]

45, Sam Wilson

#45 -- shining like fireworks lol this is way longer than it was supposed to be and also was crafted around the #25 prompt, because I can't read. but I made it work. zainab i know youve already written something like this but i wanted to try my hand at it too! my homage to the epistolatory fic...

"You made me a scrapbook for my birthday?"

Okay.

Maybe he should rewind.

Sam won't lie and say it hasn't been a rough few months. So technically, the weight of the world doesn't need to be on his shoulders. He keeps thinking he oughta take a page out of that Spider-kid's book, and just be a friendly neighborhood Cap, or something. It's just between intercontinental warhead measuring competitions (something he can say around his nephews without Sarah raising both eyebrows), dickhead suits (come on, Sarah), flying green men, and regular old food shortages in his own damn home state ... well, it's hard not to feel it all, when you care.

He used to call Bucky and bitch about things, before. Or rather -- he'd call Bucky, and Bucky would start bitching about things, which gave Sam the opening to also start bitching about things. Funny how that worked out. But they weren't even living together then. They were miles apart! Since he and Bucky got that stupid bachelor pad apartment six months ago, they've barely spent more than three consecutive minutes in each others' presence. They've both been out of the apartment for such mutually overlapping long stretches of time that every time Sam checks the fridge, the brand new carton of milk he got on the last grocery run has gone lumpy. The worst of it is, he hasn't had any chance to talk to Bucky about it properly, and there's a weird, tireder-than-usual Sam part of his brain that worries maybe this isn't the best solution to Bucky's isolation issues. Wasn't that part of the reason they decided to move in together, anyway? A solution to loneliness? Humans weren't made to live all alone, grown assed men or not, Sam thinks.

All of this is making Sam in more of a bad mood than he needs to be, given that it's his birthday.

It is his fortieth birthday, so maybe that, too, is contributing.

By rights, he should be turning forty five. That part though, Sam refuses to think about at all.

"Yeah, yeah, complain about how old you are," Bucky says, leaned too far back in his own porch chair, long legs stretched all the way out against the rail, and nursing the twin of Sam's own cool beer. "Is it 'cause you need reading glasses now?"

"Bucky," Sam grits out, because he's not sure how to communicate, I am stupidly glad you, one of my dearest friends some-fucking-how, are here, I've missed you, I really didn't expect I would this much, but also I am five seconds away from drop kicking you into a small body of water, so help me God, in a non embarrassing, well-adjusted kinda way.

"Aw, it is," says the most annoying man alive, who at one hundred and seven has the general face and physique of a particularly genetically-blessed thirty-eight year old. The fact that technically, if you do the in-and-out-of-cryo math, Bucky clocks out at two years younger than Sam is possibly the single worst fact in the universe, right now.

"Both of you shut up and let Sam finish opening his presents," says a third voice, and Sam, miffed, turns to glare at his sister, while Bucky, the bastard, is grinning like a set of cheap fireworks.

Sarah had promised that they won't do nothing big til tomorrow, and that this afternoon was just for family. Sam should've expected that meant four neighbors and three of their childhood family friends and two cousins, also, but by four pm, most people have filed out and lunch is a demolished mess of scraped-clean plates and almost empty pots on the big fold out table on the backyard porch. He's already opened AJ and Cass's humble contribution: a baseball mitt, which Uncle Sam can use to teach them baseball, much to Bucky's endless amusement ("Didn't you say baseball was an old people sport? You played baseball in school, Samuel? When you were even younger?" Yeah, he's real close to Bucky-cide, today). He knows Sarah's got him an old record player of their dad's upstairs, which he'd been planning to get fixed up all those many years ago, before their lives were torn apart; the fact that it has survived, and they have survived, makes Sam feel a certain kind of way. What Sam wasn't expecting was the lumpy, large, rectangular package that emerges from under the porch table, wrapped in brown paper and presented to him by his nephews.

"And that one's from B," Sarah says. Sam's too busy staring at it incredulously to clock the amused twinkle in his sister's eye.

"You got me a birthday present? Forreal?" Sam doesn't know if he wants to laugh or be suspicious or tear up like an idiot. Jesus, it's not like he's Bucky, getting all misty at basic kind gestures. Bucky shrugs and takes a drag from his beer.

"What, you can get me stuff, but I'm banned?"

"You're not banned, oh my God. I'm just surprised."

"I get people presents!"

"I know you do!"

"So, it's your birthday, I got you a present."

"What is it?"

"Now he's making it weird!" Bucky says, helplessly, to Sarah. AJ and Cass have started giggling.

So Sam rips off the wrapping paper, muttering to himself.

Which brings him back to an immutable, inescapable fact.

Bucky Barnes made him a scrapbook for his birthday.

"It's not a scrapbook."

"It's literally a scrapbook. Holy shit, are those stickers from Joanne's?"

"Hobby Lobby," offers AJ solemnly.

"Look, okay, it was Sarah's idea! Just read the fuckin' -- I mean, uh --"

At this point, the boys' giggles are threatening to turn medical. Sarah mouths nope, all him, from behind Bucky's chair, while Sam gapes helplessly at the shockingly neat mess of .... post it notes?

No. No way.

"You put all the annoying sticky notes you left me about the fucking soured milk in a scrapbook?"

"Oh, guys, come on!" Sarah throws her hands up in the air. "That's two in half a minute! You want these boys to grow up cursin'?"

"Half of them are yours!" Bucky points. "Which, by the way, were also annoying!" He's not quite embarrassed, but there's an airy, funny kind of laugh bubbling up behind his words at the ridiculousness of it all. Sam's feeling it too. He reaches into his pocket and takes out his reading glasses.

Bucky cracks; he chokes on his laughter, stuffing it roughly behind one metal fist; AJ has plastered himself against Sam's side and Cass is literally slumped, hiccupping, on the floor. Even Sarah's having a hard time fighting it.

Primly, Sam begins reading at a random place in the middle of the book; the note is written on an overlarge, bright blue POST-IT.

SAM. WON'T BE BACK TIL THURSDAY. PICKED UP THAT WEIRD MILK YOU LIKE FOR YOU. -JBB

Bucky, just got in. Leaving again tomorrow 0600. Hope Ross isn't being too much of a pain in the ass. Lactose free milk is a sexy modern invention, NOT weird. Its kind of gone bad tho. Did you not drink any of it???

Also, u dont have to sign post its. - Sam

I WASNT GONNA DRINK YOUR MILK. ITS YOURS. THANKS FOR TAKING OUT THE LEFTOVER TRASH, HAD TO RUN. GOT YOU MORE MILK FOR WHEN YOU GET BACK. YOU WILL DO GREAT. RIP STR MALONE A NEW ONE - JBB

I know who you are! Milks bad again. Jesus, i need a vacation. I didn't rip any senators new ones

Wanted to, tho. You keep switching burner phones so i cant text you this shit

LEAVE NOTES. THEY STICK TO THE FRIDGE NICE - JBB

Oh my God, you did not get a cat while I was gone

SHE CAN LIVE IN MY ROOM. GOT YOU MORE MILK AS A BRIBE :-)

She tore up ALL THE CURTAINS. I LIKED THOSE CURTAINS. And do your own laundry instead of getting me milk!

I DO LAUNDRY! IVE DONE YOURS THREE TIMES IN A ROW.

FUCK. MILKS GONE BAD.

You tried to drink it? What happened to its Sams milk?

Your cat peed in my shoe by the way!

IT WAS GOING BAD!!!!! -JBB

It's always goin bad!! - STW

Hey B, heard about the op from Rhodey. Im in Delacroix tmrw, come down if you can. Take care of yourself, man.

At this point, Sam stops reading. That was a couple days ago. He looks up again, pulls his glasses off. As irritable as he was earlier, there is relief in seeing Bucky perfectly in-tact, effortlessly whole. Maybe a little tired around the eyes, but Sam thinks that's maybe a detail about him that's never really gonna go away at this point. He'd been worried, yeah. Annoyed, that they hadn't talked properly before parting ways. Missing his friend and pissed off about the milk. What was the point of living with a person if you never fucking interacted, and then they got blown up?

"I can't believe you kept all of this shit," Sam manages.

Rubbing at one eye, Bucky shrugs, looks down, then up, like he's not actually embarrassed about it at all. He says, "I had to prove to my therapist I was living successfully with a roommate somehow."

Sam snorts. After a beat, Bucky adds, "Hadn't had a roommate in years. It would've been weird to throw them out."

Yeah, Sam thinks. Yeah.

"Hey, man," Sam says, while Sarah (still chuckling), begins cleaning up the plates on the table with Cass's help. "I missed you too." Bucky smiles -- "You better tell me where you found that mangy stray cat, though."

At which point Bucky's mouth drops open in what is apparently mortal offense, and the rest of Sam's birthday is spent arguing over viable pet names for the tiny white demon kitten from hell.

[straightupgeek]

Fanfic: Dream Girl

One-Shot

By: straight_up_geek_

A/n- This is my headcanon about what prompted Heather to read Gwen's diary out loud in "Not Quite Famous."

*~*~*~*~*

Heather's entire body ached from yesterday's dodgeball tournament, and her head still pounded from the "awake-a-thon." She was relieved they had two days off so she could finally catch up on some well-needed beauty rest.

During dinner, Lindsay sat next to her and tried to follow her around afterward. Heather wasn't having it. She only needed that dumb blonde for challenges, after all. At least Beth was more tolerable. But not by much.

Now, Heather was in desperate need of a long, hot shower. It was only the beginning of the second week at camp, and she had already had enough of the rusty bathroom floors and stained walls. And that wasn't even the worst part—nothing but a thin curtain separated her and whoever happened to be standing in the bathroom right next to the shower at the time. If only she had her phone to contact her parents and tell them to rescue her from this hellhole.

As Heather passed the 'Killer Bass's' cabin on her way to the communal restrooms, she heard a faint melody coming from the dock. She furrowed her eyebrows and tiptoed towards the music.

There, she spotted Trent strumming on his guitar next to the moonlit lake. Heather absentmindedly smiled. If any guy had caught her eye on the island, it was him.

Heather thought Trent was cute from day one. Maybe it was his dark hair and green eyes that captured her attention—or his smooth voice. Something about him hit a soft spot deep inside of her. Trent made her want to be noticed by a guy. And no, not in the same way Duncan "noticed" her the second she arrived at Camp Wawanakwa. Heather was used to that behavior from the boys at her high school. Their infatuation with her made it too easy to use them for homework or lunch money.

Heather had all the confidence in the world. She was the most popular girl at school. She could walk up to Trent, compliment him a few times, and they'd be dating by tomorrow. She was Heather Wilson. She could get any guy she wanted. Tonight, she wanted the cute and mysterious guitar boy.

"Hey," Heather said as she walked up behind him.

Trent jumped, his playing coming to an abrupt stop. "Oh god, you scared me," he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry," she cringed, sitting next to him. "I just heard you playing, and I thought you sounded really good."

"Really?" He carefully sat his guitar to the side.

"Duh," Heather laughed. She slipped off her flip-flops and swung her feet over the lake water. "I doubt anyone else here can play guitar like that."

A smile formed on Trent's face. "Thanks. I've never really played in front of anyone but my family, so I'm glad you liked it," he chuckled.

"What song was that? You one you were just playing."

"Well," Trent laughed bashfully, "it's an original. I'm planning on playing it once I muster up enough courage."

Heather puckered her lips in thought. If she could gain Trent's trust, she could have a reliable alliance and get the guy. "Want a second opinion before you show everyone else?" She twirled her hair.

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure if you'll like it. I haven't finished it yet."

"Hey, a good song is a good song," said Heather. "And I think you have the perfect amount of talent to pull anything off."

Trent took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll play it. But don't say I didn't want you." He picked up his guitar.

"I won't even need to," Heather giggled.

Trent laughed, his cheeks turning red as he started playing:

"They say that we've only got summer,

And I say that's really a bummer.

But we'll swim in the sun and have lots of fun..."

"...Yeah, that's all I got," Trent cringed. "I was just messing around with some chords and lyrics."

Heather blinked, surprised by the song's content. If anything, she thought his music would be about how badly he wanted to go home. That's what she would've written about, anyway. "Wow, that was really good. It sounds like you have someone special in mind."

Trent covered his burning face. "Crap, is it that obvious?"

"Kinda," Heather teased, flicking a lone pebble into the water. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Well—argh, I'm not too comfortable telling anyone right now."

Heather felt her heart pound like a drum in her chest. "Is she at this camp?"

"Yeah," Trent admitted, scratching his neck. "That's the only clue you get, though," he smiled coyly.

Heather was an expert at reading body language—or at least she was pretty sure she was. And Trent's body language right now told her that he was sitting right next to his crush and felt too nervous to confess. "Well, I'm sure that girl feels the same way about you. If she doesn't, she must be crazy."

"I don't know." He looked up at the stars. "I'm just afraid I'll do something to screw it up, and I'll totally turn her off."

"Wanna hear my opinion?" She asked, crossing her legs.

"—Maybe?" Trent flinched.

"Don't worry, it's a compliment," Heather laughed as she gazed at him. She studied his facial features up close. He had a smooth, defined jawline, and the dimples on his cheeks looked like moon craters. "I think the guitar is a turn-on. Any guy with a talent like that would never get rejected."

"You think I should go for it?"

"It would be stupid not to."

"Ok," Trent nodded. "Oh man, I'm really gonna do this, huh? All I have to do now is finish the song. Thanks for all the compliments, Heather," he gently touched her shoulder. "You made me feel so much better about this."

Shivers danced up Heather's spine at the touch of his hand. She wished he would just admit that he liked her right now. "Of course. It was no problem," she replied. "I guarantee it'll go well."

"I hope you're right," he swallowed nervously. "I think she might actually be my dream girl. I've never met anyone like her."

Biting her lip, Heather scooted a little closer to him. "Wow, it must feel like a movie to meet her in the most non-romantic place ever."

"Oh yeah," Trent laughed. "It's so bizarre. It's like I've been waiting for her all my life." He smacked his hand on his forehead. "Why am I telling you this? I'm sure you don't wanna hear it."

"No, it's fine. I do," said Heather. This must've been his way of subtly telling her.

"Yeah?" He grinned sheepishly. "It's a little embarrassing, but it's nice to have someone here to talk to about this. I don't trust most of the guys to keep quiet about this. Especially Owen. I love the dude, but man, he can be a loudmouth sometimes."

Heather fought hard not to roll her eyes to the back of her head at the mention of the big guy. Owen was one of the biggest banes of her existence on the island, but she knew she wouldn't have any luck trying to vote him off. He was already ridiculously popular. "I agree with you," she told him. "None of those losers knows how to keep their mouths shut."

Trent gave her an awkward, crooked smile. "I wouldn't call them losers, but I get what you mean. I can't have any alone time during the day with them around."

"Oh? Was I bothering you, then?" Heather feigned guilt, slightly moving away.

"No!" Trent blurted, frantically shaking his head. "You weren't bothering me at all! It's just the guys. I'm happy you showed interest in my music. Don't worry about it."

Heather smiled as her plan to evoke sympathy worked. "Ok. Thanks. But I totally get why you need alone time. The people here are just—getting on my last nerve. Except you." She made her way back next to him, inching even closer this time.

"Well, ha, that's a relief," he said, flustered.

Heather knew she had to make the first move. Maybe he hasn't had his first kiss yet. Luckily, she had plenty of experience. Slowly leaning in, she placed her hand on top of his. Trent followed her lead, almost in a trance.

Heather shut her eyes and connected their lips. She felt Trent thread his fingers through her long hair and pressed herself further onto him. His other hand rested on her waist as they continued kissing, forgetting the world around them.

Trent suddenly pulled away after a moment or two. Heather blinked, knocked out of her daze. He ashamedly turned away from her and grabbed the neck of his guitar. "Um," he cleared his throat, "I better get back to the cabin. It's getting late."

"—Ok," Heather nodded, a frown forming on her face. Trent gave her a curt smile before speed-walking back to the boy's side of the Screaming Gopher's cabin.

Heather didn't know how to react. No guy had ever run off like that after he kissed her. She touched her lips. Did her breath smell bad? Was he just nervous? She figured it was the latter.

After a few more minutes of listening to the frogs and crickets, Heather showered and got ready for bed. The sucky thing was she couldn't sleep. She was thankful their kiss wasn't on live tv with the rest of the show. She couldn't imagine how embarrassing that would be. Everyone at school would make fun of her for the next two years until they graduated.

But Trent's reaction didn't mean that he didn't like her, right? It had to be nerves. He obviously wanted her. Why else would he play her that romantic song? Who else could be pretty enough to be his dream girl?

*~*~*~*~*

The following day, Heather sat down next to Lindsay and Beth with a tray of what Chef Hatchet called "pancakes." Grimacing, she poked and prodded at her food.

"What do you think tomorrow's challenge is gonna be?" Beth asked with her mouth full.

"Oooh, I think it should be a makeup contest!" Lindsay squealed.

"That would be so cool!"

As usual, Heather wasn't paying any attention to their chattering. She did, however, have her eye on Trent, who was carrying his plate to the seat at the other end of the table.

Heather held her breath, hoping he'd notice her and ask her to talk somewhere in private after breakfast. Then he would confess, and they'd start an unstoppable couples' alliance. Heather also thought having a boyfriend would gain the audience's attention and favor. And if she and Trent didn't work out, she could always start relying on Lindsay and Beth again.

Trent didn't even look at Heather. Instead, he sat next to Gwen and offered her a muffin. "Look what I got you," he playfully told her.

Gwen's cheeks flushed pink. "Thanks, Trent. But I thought this would be a one-time thing. Can't you get in trouble for that?"

"I have no idea, but I don't care. It's worth it for you," he smiled dreamily at her.

"Well, thanks again." Gwen took the muffin, her eyes locked on his.

Heather watched their interaction and knew. She knew she wasn't the dream girl he spoke of last night. She knew he ran off after kissing her because he regretted it. She knew the guy she liked didn't like her back.

"Heather?" Lindsay's voice took her out of her thoughts. "Do you think sparkly lipgloss or bumble gum pink lipstick goes better with my skin tone? Beth told me her opinion, but she thinks I should get another."

Outraged and embarrassed, Heather shot daggers at the girls next to her. "Do you two ever shut up?!"

Lindsay and Beth cowered, and everyone else in the cafeteria stared at Heather, startled. Heather saw the concern painted on Trent's face, so she faked a laugh. "Sorry, I'm just SO tired today. I should get some more sleep before tomorrow's challenge!"

The campers awkwardly went back to their conversations. Heather sighed in relief. That was a close one. Trent almost hated her. She wondered why she cared so much about his opinion of her when he clearly liked the weird goth girl.

"Heather, do you need Lindsay's special spa treatment?" Beth gently asked.

"No," she scoffed. "I'm not hungry. I'm going back to the cabin."

"Alright," Beth gave her an overly broad, submissive grin.

Heather stormed out of the cafeteria. She slammed the cabin door, climbed up her bunk, and angrily screamed into her pillow. Uncontrollable tears streamed down her face.

It wasn't fair. Was Gwen just better than her? Heather couldn't understand why Gwen was an outcast but could easily make friends and attract boys. Heather remembered being completely friendless from age eleven to fourteen, back when she was the outcast. Why did Gwen get to be herself and have friends when she had to change so much just to fit in?

Eventually, Heather stopped crying. The girls would be back from breakfast any minute, and she needed to wash her face—STAT! The last thing Heather wanted was for them to see her at her weakest point. That wasn't good for winning reality shows or making people like you.

While Heather splashed cold water onto her face, she devised a plan. They'd be live tomorrow, and whatever challenge Chris made them do, she'd figure out how to ensure that Gwen felt embarrassed. And maybe, just maybe, she could get Trent to like her.

[gravvitywritestrash]

Dincember Day 1, Prompt: Gift

Hey guys, I'm gonna do my best to keep up with this year's dincember. Just for the sake of things, these are gonna be mostly connected, but no continuity. This is supposes to take place after tbobf, but this is my world, there is no timeline! Anyways, enjoy! (Also im trying my best to do gn!reader. Let me know if I miss something!!)

Warnings: mention of weapons, and food chewing, mentions of anxiety. Let me know if I miss something!

Prompt Masterlist

The market was lined in brightly colored banners, flags, and decorations. The square was lit by lanterns with colored glass, only adding to the many colors that lined the square. The market was busy, busier than usual. At least, that's what the stall owner that sold you the skewers of meat you and the kid were munching on, had said. Apparently, the planet you had landed on was currently getting ready for their ‘Festival of the Lights’, a phenomenon that happened once a year at the height of the cold season. People traveled to the planet just to see the lights that blanketed half of it. The natives of the planet had created a tradition of day-long festivals that included feasts, celebrations and parties. The natives even created a tradition of giving, as a thanks to their planet for giving them life. They would exchange gifts to those that they appreciated, as a way of showing that appreciation. You squinted against the brightly colored lights shining down as you turned over the idea of the festival in your head.

“What do you think about the lights, kiddo?” You looked down at the kid, who was strapped to your chest and mostly covered by the large winter cloak you had wrapped around yourself to keep you both warm. The kid’s head was mostly covered by said cloak, but there was a large enough hole for you to peer down at him. He responded by giving you an open-mouthed grin, showing off the food he was still chewing.

“Very nice, kid.” You nodded and headed began your route, first taking care of food and drink for the ship, personal care and medical supplies followed. After taking care of the “easier” supplies, you then headed for the ammunition and weapons shop you had spotted earlier.

The inside of the shop was warm and was absent of the colorful decorations you had been drowning in. Though the decorations were nice, the various sensations were starting to make you slightly overwhelmed, so the modest shop was a very welcome break. The shopkeeper, a very large and gruff human male, greeted you with a grunt before returning to the large repeating blaster he was tinkering with.

Despite his less than warm welcome, you approached the counter with a smile and a small ‘hello’. To your surprise, the shopkeeper put the weapon down and greeted you with a large grin.

“How can I help you today?” He set his large palms atop the countertop as you approached.

“My employer asked me to get this stuff for him. I’m, uh, not a big weapons person so I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for.” You explained, handing over the small note. It wasn’t a lie. You had only owned one blaster your entire life, an A-180 that was currently strapped to the same hip it resided for the past 10 years.. You only knew enough to keep it cleaned, and in working order. You knew it could be reconfigured, but you didn’t know how to do so. The most tinkering you had done was replacing a few pins and reloading it with charges, speaking of-

“Oh, and I could use some charges for an A-180.” You hadn’t told Mando you were running low on charges, and you didn’t want to be caught with an empty blaster in the middle of a fight.

“It’s on here.” The shopkeeper waved the note you had handed him. “Give me a bit, I’ll go and find these for you.” He gave you one last smile before rounding the counter top to search through his store.

You were a little dumbfounded. Had Mando noticed you were running low? Well, you guessed it wasn’t hard to miss since you stored your ammo in his weapon locker. But the fact he had considered you when preparing his list left you feeling something strange. Kinda fuzzy. You considered being annoyed with him, for thinking you were incompetent enough to forget, but you knew he didn’t think that. Though you had your days where you were a little less than graceful or observant, but he never made you feel like you were incompetent. You knew he considered you in high enough regard to keep you around. If you were more of an annoyance or problem, he simply wouldn’t have you around. Though he didn’t say it, you knew he appreciated the work you put in on his ship, taking care of the kid, and even when you took up small repair jobs to earn a few extra credits. He didn’t say it, but he did little things, little things like putting your blaster charges on his list so you wouldn’t have to worry about it.

You thought about the planet’s tradition, showing appreciation. You started toying with the idea of getting him a gift, though it made you a little nervous. What would he like? You didn’t know Mando that well, didn’t know if he liked little trinkets or hand-made carvings. You never saw him in anything but his flight suits and armor, or the occasional sleep wear when hyperspace was long enough to relax during. You weren’t even sure if he would like a gift from you. You were an employee, hired to keep the ship up and running to avoid price-gouging mechanics. Though as the months had passed in his employment, you felt like you were starting to get into friend territory. He didn’t have to do nice things for you, like preparing your meals and caf, remembering your favorite fruit and buying it at any market that had it, or even noticing when you were running low on blaster charges.

Yeah, you were sure he considered you more than an employee. He didn’t have to do anything more than provide you with a place to sleep and some level of privacy the close confines of a ship could offer, yet he did more. He made you feel appreciated. Thought of. He didn’t have to do half of the things he did for you, yet he did. 

You wanted to return the favor.

But what did you get for a man who required so little and asked for nothing?

You took a glance around the shop. You could see the owner walking around, placing the requested items in a crate he was carrying. You thought about what you could get him as your eyes roamed the cases of various weapons. What could you even get him from here? Mando had more than enough weapons to support a small group of fighters, part of my religion, he had told you. Was a new weapon even a good idea? What if he already had it, or what if he didn’t like what you picked? You wished you knew more about the swords and blasters in the store.

Though, as you heard the shopkeeper make his way back to you, you figured that you didn’t have to know much about the weapons in the store. That’s what he was here for, right?

“I was able to get everything on your list.” The shopkeeper set the crate down on the counter next to you, leaning one arm over the top as he addressed you. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

You reached down to your own pouch of credits, trying to get an idea of how much you had, and how much you could spend without dipping into the credits Mando had given you to buy the supplies.

“There is something I use your help with.”

—

 You were taking longer than Din had expected your supply run to take. He was starting to get a little nervous, worried that something had happened to you and the kid.

He should have gone with you.

He was just about to set out to locate you when you entered the hangar, followed by a small speeder stacked with a few crates. Din could physically feel the tension leave his body when you entered the hanger, and a warmth spread through his chest when you smiled upon seeing him.

“Sorry, I know it took me a while. The square was a little crowded today.” You said while unloading the first crate off the speeder. Din took the crate from your hands and walked it to the bottom of the crests ramp. He repeated the action two more times, and when he turned around to check for more crates, he saw that the speeder, and driver, had left. You had also taken off your cloak, and Din noticed that one: the kid was asleep against your chest, and two: you were holding something behind your back.

He waited while you took a few steps, starting to close the gap between him and you. Once there was only a foot or two left, you stopped. Now that you were closer, he could see a rectangular box held in your hands. It was sleek, black in color and metallic. He could see the nervous smile, and noticed the way you dug the toe of your shoe into the ground, a nervous habit he noticed you had.

He started feeling nervous himself. He’s noticed that his emotions started to match your own. When you were happy, he was happy. When you were annoyed, whether it be at a difficult ship repair or even because of him he was annoyed as well. He wasn’t sure when this started happening or why, maybe it had something to do with being with you almost everyday. Maybe it had something to do with the kid, even. He wasn’t sure, he just knew that he enjoyed making you happy, seeing you smile. Your smile always made his chest tight and his head light. He often couldn’t help the smile that matched your own, despite no one being able to see it. So if you were nervous right now, he was nervous, and he was sure it had something to do with the box you were holding behind your back.

“So, the kid and I wanted to get you something. That’s why it took us a little longer today than usual.” You said while producing the box from behind your back. You held it out to him, using both hands to balance it.

For him?

“For me?” Din’s face started getting hot beneath his helmet. He made no move to grab the box, the gift yet, not quite processing the fact that you had got him a gift.

A gift from you, and the kid. For him. He couldn’t believe it. No one had ever gotten him a gift before. Not one that didn’t have strings attached, or a darker motive that went with it. And here you were, holding out one for him.

“Well, open it!” You shook your hands for emphasis.

Slowly, as if it might disappear if he moved too fast, he reached for the clasps on the front of the box. Inside sat a thin cylindrical pole made of shiny steel. He picked it up gently, avoiding the button near one end. It was light, and a bit longer than his forearm.

Once he had it out of the box, you closed it back up and stuck it under your arm, careful not to disturb the sleeping kid.

“Look, look!” You pointed at the scratched near the bottom of the cylinder. Nerves from earlier gone, you ran your finger along the scratches-no engravings.

“Grogu did these,” You said while pointing at the various lines that ran around the sides, loops and swirls that ran several centimeters along the side. “And I did this.” You said while turning the cylinder over in his hands. On the other side, he could make out what was engraved in aurebesh.

For our Mandalorian

His breath caught in his throat at the phrase. Our Mandalorian. He almost didn’t hear your when you started talking again, barely able to hear you over the blood rushing over his eardrums.

“The man at the store had a laser engraver. He let us draw stuff for your new weapon.” That got his attention, jolting him out of his trance.

“Weapon?”

“Yes! Press the button, be careful!” You took a few steps back, gesturing to the button he had noticed earlier.

He stared at you for a few moments, taking in the excited look on your face, feeling the same excitement spread through his chest. He then turned his attention to the cylinder, holding it parallel to the ground and away from his chest. With one last glance at you, he slid his thumb over the button, and almost dropped it when it jumped in his hand, elongating from both ends suddenly.

It was some sort of staff, he realized. One end was forked, and he could hear the low hum of energy, a stun probe, while the other side was speared at the end. In this form, the staff was as much longer, perfect for keeping foes back in close combat settings. He was busy surveying it, weighing it in his hands, and surveying the design. His attention was drawn back to you when you began speaking again.

“I know it isn’t as strong as your old beskar spear, but I thought it could still be useful to you.” You were nervous again, the toe of one of your shoes digging into the ground again. “You don’t have to use it, I mean you already have the darksaber, I guess you don’t really need it.”

This time, he didn’t match your nervousness. Instead, he felt like was almost floating. His heart swelled and he could feel himself getting choked up. A gift, and a weapon at that. Not only had you gotten him a gift, you had personalized it, both you and the kid leaving your mark on it. How could he not use it now, not carry it with him everywhere, with pride and as a symbol. He was sure you probably didn’t realize the significance of gifting a mandalorian a weapon. He was certain you had no idea this was a courting ritual in his culture.

But to you, this was still a gift, a symbol of your appreciation of him. You had gifted him the best thing you could think of to give a mandalorian, your mandalorian. Maybe there was more symbolism behind the gift than he originally thought. Maybe this meant more to you than you were willing to admit, and that was fine. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit what this really meant to him either. One day, he would. For now, he’d just tell you how much he appreciated the gift, well, once he was sure his voice wasn’t going to crack and the tears cleared from his eyes.

[phoebe-delia]

hello am i too late for an eight drarry nights drabble prompt??? hmmmmmm... what about............................... gift-giving as a love language???

Night 4: Sincerely, Your Hanukkah Helper

@oknowkiss Elaine, it would be my pleasure! What a lovely prompt. Thank you for submitting it. I hope you like this! Auror partners, fluff, and mutual pining! Read the other Hanukkah fics so far here.

On the first night of Hanukkah, Harry nearly didn't see the small box on his desk. Usually, whenever he arrives back at his desk from a case call, he has a habit of dumping his coat on top of whatever paperwork he'd left behind, and that night was no exception. Luckily, when he put his coat back on to leave for the night, he saw the shiny box with a large red bow.

He looked left, and right, and blushed when he remembered he was the only one in the small office since his partner had left for break the day before. His stomach twisted as it always did at thoughts of Draco. Harry was glad for him to get some well-deserved rest, but part of him burned with jealousy at not getting to see Draco, relaxed and flushed with laughter and wine, completely at ease. At not getting to bury his face in the softest looking spot on Draco's neck and—

Harry stopped himself before his thoughts veered into Images Reserved for Late at Night in Bed Only. Putting daydreams of his partner out of his mind, Harry picked up the box and unwrapped it, curiosity burning. He got the paper off and tore the lid from the flimsy box to reveal the most beautiful glasses case he'd ever seen, a small booklet, and a folded piece of parchment.

Harry unfolded the parchment and read the message written inside: I know using Accio to find your glasses can break them, so this ought to make things easier. The instructions will be more detailed, but all you need to do is recite the spell in the booklet. From then on, if you ever take your glasses off your person, they'll automatically be in this case. I hope you enjoy. Sincerely, your Hanukkah Helper.

Harry frowned and read the note twice more, processing the message. His stomach flipped as he followed the instructions in the booklet and then tested the spell, which worked as described. He left the office that evening with more questions than answers.

On the second night of Hanukkah, Harry was in the office, as he had been most of the day. He startled when the corner of his desk glowed and something appeared out of nowhere. It was a larger box this time in the same shiny wrapping paper and red bow on top.

Harry reached for it immediately and opened it to find a scarf in the softest fabric he'd ever touched. This time, the note read: This is made of cashmere. There are already protective spells in place to make it impervious to water and stains, so all you've got to do is keep it from getting destroyed and it should last you a lifetime. I wish I were able to keep you warm, but this will have to do. Sincerely, your Hanukkah Helper.

On the third night, it was a magical mug that could refill with the same beverage with the press of a button. The fourth night, a box containing new cufflinks appeared on his coffee table; they were green, to match your eyes, according to the note. The fifth night, he got a leather-bound journal and Muggle pens. I know you've not got the best history with journals, the note read, but I promise this has no dark spells; just one for privacy. I hope you find comfort in writing your thoughts. Sincerely, HH .

The sixth night, Harry ate the most decadent treacle tart he'd ever tasted. The seventh, he got a snitch in the shape of a heart; this time, the note read, Tomorrow, I offer you the real thing.

On the eighth and final night, Harry waited in the office with bated breath. The presents never seemed to come at the same time every evening, but they always popped up when Harry was alone after hours, regardless of if he was at work. He kept glancing at the clock, as if it would offer answers, but it ticked away tauntingly.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Harry startled, his eyes snapping immediately to the entrance. But Draco walked in, and Harry relaxed.

"Oh, hey!" Harry said. "What are you doing here? Aren't you still off for the holidays?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, but I've got something to do."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "What is it? I've been taking care of things while you've been gone. Nothing major just..." he trailed off as Draco walked toward Harry's desk with a determined look in his eyes.

He stopped in front of Harry's chair, and Harry's heart raced. Then, Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a red bow, attaching it to his jumper on his chest—over his heart.

"For your final present—the real thing," Draco said, nearly whispering. "It's—I'm yours, if you want."

Harry let out a shaky breath. "I do," he said, standing from his desk chair and claiming Draco's lips in a fierce kiss. They broke apart just long enough for Harry to whisper, "Best present I've ever gotten."

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hazel my dearest! could i please ask for the prompt “i don’t want any company, i want you” for our sweet birthday boy Diluc? 💖 thank you so much!!

diluc’s birthday event | diluc x gn reader | warning: sfw, slight angst (inferences on diluc’s backstory)

This was not his favorite day. If the world would let him, he’d skip it all together. Not only did it remind him of what happened years ago but it continued to add unending pressure on his shoulders. Diluc could list all the thoughts that plagued him but, honesty, they've been written time and time again and he was ready to look past it. At least for a little while. 

As per usual, he avoided everyone. Slipping away at the last minute, hiding and disappearing if he got caught up in anything. If he didn’t have things to do every day of his life, he would have kept himself occupied in the domains or other hideous places that required his attention, but he couldn’t. It was only once night came that he felt he could finally breathe. He could stretch and relax; become himself again. Live as a man of tomorrow and not one of the past. 

“I thought I’d find you up here.” A familiar voice drew his attention as he looked to the open window you peered out from. “Hiding away again?” 

Diluc huffed, his gave turning back to survey the city bustling below. He swore you were always around when his heart felt heavy. How did you do that? 

Carefully, you climbed onto the ledge. Your hands and knees unsteady as you made your way toward him. He instinctually leaned forward to block you from the very close edge you could slip off of any moment. If he didn’t already know your persistent nature, he would have tried to convince you to go back inside. 

“It’s a beautiful night. Don’t you think?” You mused once you settled, elbows resting on your knees as you cupped your hands around your cheeks and looked over the city. Closing your eyes, you took it all in and he returned the favor. 

How many years had he known you now. Two, three? Did time really move that quickly or was he so caught up in his own world that he let it all slip by him. Diluc sighed but continued to watch you. He admired the way you kept your head up even when things were difficult. How you pushed through your worries, though he wouldn’t be against the idea of you leaning on him a little more. 

Since when did I notice you?, he asked himself for the umpteenth time. 

The two of you sat in silence. Only the whisper of the wind and the excited voices stumbling filled the air. It wasn’t like anyone else to just sit in comfortable quiet with him but you weren’t anyone else. You never pressured him, never asked more of him. He found it rather comforting. 

Looking across the cobblestone streets, he noticed a soft tune on the wind. Its notes gentle, soothing. The way it rose and fell to the steady thump of his heart made him close his eyes and listen closely. Near the end, there was a delicate ring in the tone and when he opened his eyes to find out why, he saw you smiling at him. 

“You seem more relaxed," You hummed, relief flashing in your eyes. 

“Was I not before?” 

“Mmm, maybe you were. Either way, you look happier and I’m glad.” Crossing your arms around your legs, you pulled them closer and rested your chin on your knee. It appeared like you were trying not to shiver but weren’t very successful at it. 

"It’s cold.”

“Yeah, a little but I’m okay -” 

“Come here.” Diluc suggested with a wave of his hand. He could tell you were uncertain, he was too, but he had already started to remove his arms from his coat and hoped you didn’t leave him hanging as he held it open for you to slip inside of. Nervously, you scooted to him, careful not to fall. When you settled at his side, he waited for you to get comfortable before letting his hand rest near your back.

His arm brushed against you, his shoulder pressed into yours. You were both so close he almost regretted his forwardness. Please don’t hate this, Diluc begged. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled and he replied with a grunt. It was quiet again but now his heart beat was mixing with the sounds of the city. 

If you could hear it, what would you think of me? 

“Um, we could go back inside. I’m sure the company there would be much better than mine," You explained in your timidness, hands wringing together. 

It was hard for him to allow people in. Ever since that day he kept those important to him as far away as possible but there was something about you that made him feel so brave. “I don’t want anyone's company. Just yours,” He professed with a hand filled with so much courage that it reached your chin and lifted you to look at him. “I just want yours.” Diluc repeated and you replied with searching eyes so radiant he wondered if this was a dream. “Is that alright?” He asked, desperate to know your thoughts and felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff waiting for your answer. 

“Mmhm.” 

Diluc’s thumb brushed across your cheek and he felt you shiver, felt your spine straighten and watched your fingers grip onto his coat at the contact. 

Is it alright for me to love someone? He asked himself as the world around him faded and all that was left was you. 

[seidenbros]

#143 “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

The wonderful @astrangegirlsmind send me two prompts, and the first on was already fulfilled here and this works kind of as a follow up to it. You don't have to read the first prompt, though.

I knew that this was going in the smutty direction, BUT I didn't plan on turning it into this kind of smut, so I hope you're not diappointed xD This is definitely for adult audiences, and the second time I've written smut on here in thousands of years.

Pairing: Jaskier x (fem) reader

Warnings: Smut. definitely smut. And a bit of fluff.

Word count: 3267

(Feel free to reqeuest something, here are soem prompt lists but if you find anything else that's perfectly fine as well <3)

__________________________

The memory of the ball was still in your head, and how could it not? It had been a beautiful evening with an even more perfect ending. Finally, Jaskier and you had both confessed your feelings to each other. Jaskier being Jaskier trying to do so with poetic words, talking more than had probably been good for him, but he'd been nervous. Understandably so, because you'd been nervous as well, when you'd been so close to each other. He'd told you before that you looked good, that your hair looked nice, or that some piece of clothing suited you well, but that evening... His words had made your heart flutter, when you'd tried to push your own feelings aside. Stupid, because these things usually never worked, but you'd had to try in order to keep him as a friend. But now that he'd plucked up the courage, you were more than friends.

All the way back to the Inn, you hadn't been able to keep your hands off each other, had stopped to share a kiss here and there. Your hand in his, his arm around your waist pulling you close... It had felt so good, but at the end of the day, you'd fallen asleep in each other's arms completely exhausted. You'd spent some more time talking, mainly about how stupid both of you had been to keep this to yourself for so long. If you'd talked sooner... But in the end, this was where you were now, and you were happy. More than happy actually, because waking up next to Jaskier like this, not in the other bed in the room, made you smile to yourself. You closed your eyes again to enjoy this moment a little longer, breathe in his scent that made you only smile more. His arms tightened around you, hands pressed to your back, fingers fanned out to cover as much skin as possible.

“Morning...” His voice still sleepy, croaky even, made you aware that he was indeed awake as well. His whole upper body vibrated, when he said just that one word, but it made you chuckle to yourself. He wasn't exactly a morning person, always needed some time to be fully awake, and today was no exception.

“Morning,” you replied, raising your head to look at him. His eyes were only half open, but you could see that kind of dopey smile on his lips.

“If this is a dream, don't let me wake up,” he mumbled, lifting his right hand from your back to brush some loose strands from your face. “Though this doesn't feel like a dream.” He raised his head as well and pulled you in for a kiss. “Nope, definitely not a dream...”

“I could have told you that as well.” Hands placed on his chest, you pushed yourself up a little bit. You were still wearing the dress from last night, because while talking exhaustion had taken over and you hadn't been able to take that dress off beforehand. “And I'm very glad that it isn't.” Carefully, you leaned down again, to brush a kiss across his lips, before you got off the bed altogether.

“Where are you going?” Jaskier asked, sitting up, looking like a lost puppy, now that he wasn't holding you anymore.

“I need to get out of this dress finally, and we should get going. They won't let us have the room forever.” Jaskier heaved a sigh, though he knew you were right. You had to get ready and you had to be on your way to the next town, where Jaskier would perform tomorrow. The sooner you got there, the better.

When you returned from the bathroom where you'd freshened up, you were simply wearing your undergarments, because the rest of your clothes were here in the room. Feeling Jaskier's gaze on you, you looked up at him. “What is it?” Confused, you looked at him, but he simply shook his head.

“Nothing. You look lovely,” he said before he followed your lead and freshened up before he got dressed for a day. Seeing you like this put thoughts in his head, that he didn't want to discuss right now. But he needed a moment to himself to clear his head.

Once you were on your way, conversation flowed easily, like it usually did with the two of you, which was a huge relief. After all, you'd thought that it would maybe change something, but it didn't. Except for the fact, that he reached for you hand again and again, brushed his lips over you knuckles, or even stopped to pull you into his arms to kiss you. “Can't get enough of that,” were his words, and they made you smile. Quite frankly, you felt the same way, and you would have rather stayed in the inn a little longer to have some more time alone with him, but you had to get going.

By now, you had already come further than you'd expected, maybe because you were setting the pace, walking swiftly, instead of taking your time. But when you came across a little lake that was a bit off the road, barely visible from where you were standing, you stopped.

“Let's take a break, hm?” you suggested, looking up at him. “It's such a warm day, maybe we could go for a swim and lounge in the sun for a moment, before we keep going.” At first, Jaskier wanted to keep going, but seeing that happy look on your face at the promise of a dip in the lake, he couldn't say no to you. You sprinted ahead, dropped your bags to the floor, before you stripped down to your undergarments and your chemise so that you could go into the water. You tried the temperature with the tips of your toes first and shivered slightly. It was refreshing, but the sun heated up your skin, so the mixture was perfect. Slowly, you waded further into the water, enjoying the cooling effect the water had on your skin.

Jaskier was still watching you from the side of the lake, a content smile on his face. He loved seeing you like this. Carefree, happy, and God so sexy that it hurt. The morning had already been hard for him, to not grab you and pull you back into bed, and he wasn't sure whether you'd come out looking like that on purpose, but his thoughts had run off with him, until you'd said that you had to get going. But right now...

“What are you waiting for? Come on, Jask,” You said from your place in the water, covered up to your hips, but you slowly walked further backwards to where you couldn't stand anymore and dipped your head beneath the water. When you came back up and wiped the water from your eyes, you could see Jaskier taking of most of his clothes so that he could join you.

“Are you joking, this is freezing, Y/N!” he inhaled sharply, but walked towards you nonetheless.

“You'll warm up to it. It's really refreshing.” You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. Of course you'd seen him shirtless, had always wondered if the hairs covering his chest were soft or rather coarse, but you'd never found out. Until now, when he was right in front of you, and he was yours. And you were his. Two hearts that had found each other when they hadn't even been looking.

You swam back towards him, meeting him halfway where you could both be standing, your wet chemise clinging to your body, making it evident just how cold the water really was, because your nipples were practically poking holes through the fabric.

“See, I told you the water would be refreshing,” you said, smiling up at him, taking a step closer to place your hand on his chest, right above his heart, feeling its rapid beat beneath your fingertips.

“I actually feel kinda warm to be honest.” Which was an understatement. Seeing you like this made his blood boil, made him want to pull you towards him and completely devour you. His eyes dropped to the front of your body, making him breathe in deeply, before he looked into your eyes again. “Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?”

For a moment there, you were confused, but when you followed his gaze, you had to laugh, taking your hand off his body to cover yourself. “Well, it wasn't exactly my plan, but is it working?” You had to ask, had to know, because Gods, you wanted him. Ever since that first kiss, you'd wanted to get as close to him as possible, wanted him to give you the attention he'd given other women before.

“It was already working this morning, luv,” he said with a chuckle, taking your hands in his to pull them away from your breasts, so that he could keep enjoying the view. “When you came back, I wanted to pull you back into bed with me and take my time with you, but...”

“But what?” you asked, freeing your hands from his, so that you could put them back on his chest, run your fingers through his chesthair, sending shivers through his body.

“But you said that we had to get going.” Jaskier shrugged his shoulders, smile still in place, when he reached one hand up to cup your breast, rub his finger over the already erect and sensitive nub, eliciting a moan from your lips. Your fingernails dug into his shoulder for a moment, before you looked back up at him, breath ragged just from that simple touch, in anticipation of what was hopefully to come.

“Next time... don't listen to me.” With your hand now in his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, pressing your body flush against his, immediately feeling his arousal. It had been concealed by the water so far, but feeling, how turned on he really was, made a wave of heat rush through your whole body. “Next time... just do that.” Your words were merely a whisper against his lips, before you kissed him again, wrapped your arms around him to cling onto him, as he lifted you up, wrapped your legs around his waist to carry you to the shore.

You were both dripping wet, but that didn't matter right now. The sun would dry your skin in no time, and right now, there were different things on your minds. Like Jaskier's lips on your cheek, the side of your neck, working their way down to your collarbone, before he stopped and gently placed you on the bottom, hovering over you.

“You're way too beautiful, Y/N,” he said against your skin, before he tore his lips way from you to look down on you. You were the one to surprise him though, when your pulled your drenched chemise over your head, revealing your naked upper body to him for the first time – even though your clothes had been rather see-through because of the water. Feeling his eyes on your breasts again, you had to resist the urge to cover yourself up, but you knew you were safe with him, and it showed in the adoration you could see once again in his eyes. In addition he stopped you from covering up, when he took your hands and pinned them above your head, holding them there with one of his hands.

“What are you doing?” you asked breathlessly, licking your lips, which only prompted him to kiss you, to lap his tongue into your mouth. Short, sweet, and fiery hot.

“Taking my time with you. Or at least trying to.” Because Gods, he wanted you so badly, that it was hard to not bury himself deep within you straight away. Your hand burned on his skin, and he wanted them there, but he knew that he'd lose all of his self restrained once you got to touch him again. Rolling his hips against yours, his bulge rubbing up against you, both still covered, made both of you shiver. You wanted more, you wanted to feel him, and that was why you were the one trying to rub against him, get some friction where you needed it most, but he pulled back only slightly, making you pout.

“This is not fair, Jask...”

“Whoever said that I was going to play fair?” You could see the twinkle in his eyes, which made your breath hitch, but the next moment, you let out a gasp, when he pulled your nipple into his mouth, sucked on it, scraped it with his teeth. “So sweet,” he mumbled to himself, before he dropped further down, trailing kisses over your stomach, looking up at you while he rid you of the rest of your clothing items, having you now completely naked in front of him. You should probably feel vulnerable just like this, but not with him. Not with the man you knew, loved and trusted.

He had to let go of your hands now, as he pushed your legs a little further apart to accommodate his body between your thighs. First, he started kissing the insides of your thighs making you shiver with pleasure, but your hands quickly found their place in his hair, pulling him closer to where you needed to feel him the most.

“Needy, aren't you?” he said, breath touching your heated skin, making you hum in agreement, because you were needy. For him. For everything he did with you, and you weren't ashamed of it, because it felt so good. You didn't except to feel his tongue against your most sensible spot immediately, so the moan that left your lips was rather loud. You clasped a hand over your mouth to keep quieter now, but Jaskier just chuckled. “Nobody's here, luv, just enjoy yourself.” And he was enjoying himself as well, getting all those sounds of joy and pleasure out of you, that only managed to make him harder as well.

When he pushed two fingers inside you, your grip on his hair tightened. “Jask...” you moaned his name, writhing against his fingers, because you wanted more. Gods, how he loved to see you like this, so he didn't dare stop. He curved his fingers up, making you nearly sit up from the sensation. “Right there,” you breathed out, your own hands touching your breasts, tweaking your nipple. “You'll make me cum like that.”

“That's the plan,” he chuckled, “And then we're going for round two.” Something you hadn't experienced yet, a lover who was taking care of you first instead of just going at it, and that simple realization let you go completely and you enjoyed your high, held onto his hair, his shoulder, whatever you could grab, legs shaking around him, his name another deep moan from your lips.

Only once you'd calmed down did Jaskier come up to look at you. Ever so gently he brushed your hair from your face and looked into your eyes, before you pulled him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on him.

“That was...” you tried to say, but couldn't find the words.

“We're not finished, yet. That means if you're ready to go again,” he said, grin still in place. You felt the tip of his cock nudge the inside of your thigh, not really sure when he'd gotten rid of the rest of his clothes, but you didn't really care. Your hand reaching for his cock was answer enough, and he breathed in sharply. “Guess that's a yes,” he mumbled, dropping his head to place kisses along your collarbone, enjoying the feeling of your hand working him so good, but if you kept going like this, he wouldn't last long.

“Jaskier...” you pleaded, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock, making him groan against your skin. “Please... fuck me already.” He'd always known that you could have a mouth on you, that you didn't back away when someone was swearing, but hearing it in that moment, turned him on to no end.

“As you wish, luv.” He took your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own, so he could align himself with your entrance and push inside you, slowly but easily, because of your previous orgasm. Your breath caught in your throat and he stopped, giving you time to get used to his size, his girth. For a moment, he simply stayed with you, until he felt you relax beneath him. “Are you okay?”

“More than that,” you said with a smirk, cradling his face in your hands before you kissed him again. You moved against him, urging him on to keep going now, which he gladly did. He tore his lips from yours again, connected them with your skin, leaving burning sensations wherever he kissed you. Your Fingers dug into his shoulders, already feeling your second high building in the pit of your stomach. Jaskier picked up his pace, before he grabbed a hold of your hips, got on his knees and angled your hips a little upwards. Your legs immediately wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close as possible, but still giving him room to thrust into you.

“Let it go... Cum for me,” Jaskier demanded, keeping his eyes on you, concentrating on you, on what felt good four you. With the change in position you could feel him even deeper, touching all the right spots.

“Fuck... oh... Jask... F...” Your words were incoherent, but it didn't matter anyway, because they were replaced by a long, drawn out moan, as he brought you to your second orgasm, felt your walls clench around him, and that was what did him in, make him moan your name as he came inside you, hands gripping your hips tighter as his movements become more and more ragged, until he collapsed on top of you. Just for a moment, he lay there, before he propped himself up on his elbows, because he didn't want to crush you with his weight.

“Y/N?” Voice gentle and quiet, he looked at you with your eyes closed. If your breathing weren't that heavy, he would have been seriously concerned, but there was a smile on your lips. Still, a little concern remained. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled in agreement, slowly raising your hands to run them through Jaskier's sweaty hair, cracking one eye open.

“Are you sure? Did I hurt you in anyway?”

“Jaskier...” The worry in his eyes made you open both of yours,. You lifted your head to softly kiss his lips. “You didn't hurt me at all. This was...” You shook your head, to find the right words, but among the two of you, he was the poet. “Spectacular.”

“Yeah... that about sums it up,” he said with a chuckle, Slowly pulling away, only to pull you up onto his chest. When he ran his hands along your back, he could feel all the dirt sticking to it. “I think we should maybe go for another swim, hm?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, chuckling to yourself. “But I don't think I'll be able to walk right now. My legs feel kind of sore.”

“Then let me carry you into the water, my lady.”

Oh, you could definitely get used to that.

[donutloverxo]

His queen

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - An anon asked for an au sequel to first night with no stucky but this can be read as a one shot. Thanks to lizzygal(link to ao3) for her advice on this! This is written for @sweetlyscared's 1k angst challenge! Congrats boo! I used the prompt 'Do you love her?' Although this is hardly angsty but it's as angsty as someone as soft as me can get🥺 Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary - Married life with Steve was amazing (although with a few bumps in the way) until you discovered a heartbreaking secret.

Warnings - explicit sexual content, painful sex, innocent naive insecure reader, dub con/noncon, soft dark Steve, jealous Steve, ooc villain Sharon, like a little breeding kink, some angst.

Pairing - soft dark king!Steve x reader

Word count - 5.3k

Steve jolted when your palm hit him across his face, his hand circled around your wrist, ready to fight whatever it was that slapped him off, his grip loosening when he realised it was just you. You wiggled your hand away from his grip, mumbling incoherently before turning away from him, so that he could only see the silhouette of your nude back in the dim light.

Although he had been with a handful of women, he never had to share a bed with one. He didn’t think he’d ever have to, he was born in royalty, raised to be a king. While he liked having your soft warm body in his arms, he maybe could live without your hands slapping him, or both your legs over his thighs and hips.

It was customary for wives to have their own chambers after the honeymoon period was over. And with a heavy heart he had sent you to your own chambers, he made sure you were treated to the best luxuries possible.

But he found himself missing your presence soon enough. Your legs over his, you annoying him for attention whenever he was working, the way you hummed a song in your head, how you often clumsily bumped into things, your sweet beautiful voice, your scent, everything about you.

So he went to your room, told you that you were to live with him in his chambers from then on. You were hesitant at first, but didn’t say no to him.

You could never deny him anything. He loved that about you. How subservient you were despite being so fiery.

He was grateful to have made you move in, in times like these, when his cock was hard and achingly pressed against your thigh, he had you right where he wanted you.

He softly called out your name, he’d rather have you awake for this. He loved listening to the sweet sounds he could pull out of you. When you didn’t so much as stir he decided he would just have to wake you up another way.

Pushing your legs off his, spreading them apart to make room for him as he hovered over you, pressing soft kisses, rubbing his beard against your skin, he made his way down to his destination, he was parched for your nectar.

He kissed your petal, your cunt already oozing with need, your body would always want him even if you weren’t awake. He frowned when you didn’t move at all. He had been a bit too rough with you that night, exhausting you, making you pass out as soon as he was done, but he was growing more and more impatient.

Scraping his teeth over your clit, he bit it ever so lightly as you yelped awake.

“Oh!” you gasped when you looked down to find the king between your legs.

Swallowing a lump, because this was still so very strange to you. Your mother had told you how a man and woman make love before your wedding, but she never mentioned anything like this.

From your knowledge the king putting his mouth there wouldn’t result in you getting pregnant. But it did bring you great pleasure, to the point where it was maddening.

Sometimes it was the only thing on your mind.

It was as if you were addicted to it.

“My king...” you squirmed when you felt him push his fingers inside you, “I’m so tired... I have court tomorrow...” How he managed to do all his duties and still have you at least thrice everyday was beyond you.

“You don’t have to go. You’re the queen, the future mother of my children, you deserve a day off. Besides I do work you a bit too hard, don’t I?” he asked before plunging his tongue into your heat.

“Huh? No... I’m glad to be serving you...” And you had yet to give him any heirs.

It wasn’t long before you released all over his mouth, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard coated with your slick as he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“You can stay in bed all day tomorrow. That way you’ll be strong and ready by the time I’m back.” He told you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, as you tasted yourself on his mouth.

Turns out a day off was everything that you had needed. You were born a princess, albeit of a kingdom standing on its last legs, you were the youngest of six sisters, your prospects weren’t all that great.

Your mother told you that you’d be lucky to get a rich lord, let alone a Duke or a prince. A King was out of the question. She taught you how to handle a household, she never could’ve prepared you for court or to be a queen. You always dreamt of marrying for love. Of running away after falling for a stable boy and living far away and being free.

But you married the King of the most prestigious kingdom in the whole world. While you had grown to love Steven, you didn’t love all the responsibilities that were thrusted upon you so suddenly, you didn’t like how you were always under scrutiny. Every move you made was watched and judged by others. You still couldn’t believe your life sometimes.

So it was nice to have a day to yourself. You had slept in till late in the morning, having your breakfast in bed before taking a leisurely bath and then decided to go for a walk in the garden just before the sunset before you’d have to go back up and have dinner with your husband before having to perform your wifely duties.

“Your grace,” you smiled upon hearing the familiar voice, turning around to see Lady Sharon approaching you.

You hadn’t seen her in over a month. She had been so kind to assist you and help you get acclimated to your duties, you’d always be grateful to her.

“I thought you were under the weather,” she frowned. It was the excuse you had given to skip court with your ladies that day. Which wasn’t a complete lie. You were a little sore between your legs. But a warm bath had fixed that.

“I’m feeling quite better,” you said, standing upright, a dignified smile on your face--formal and curt.

Always be formal and curt with everyone. Your instinct was to hug her when you saw her after her month long trip, like you would to any of your sisters or friends, but you must always act like a queen since you were one.

“How was your trip?” you asked her as she hooked her arm in yours so you could both resume walking.

“It went alright. Mama wants to marry me off to the Duke Stark, the trip was some sort of matchmaking ploy,” she snorted.

“What’s wrong with Stark? He seems so charming.” You remember meeting him at your coronation ceremony. Where he had got you beautiful pearls from an exotic country.

“He maybe charming, but at the end of the day - he’s manwhore.”

You gasped incredulously, your hand over your mouth as you looked around to make sure your maids didn’t hear you, “Lady Sharon,” you chastised her, “We can’t use that sort of language.”

“Forgive me, your grace,” she apologized, “I often forget how naive you are.”

“What? Naive?” you huffed. “Not using such filthy language hardly makes me naive.”

“Live a little, all royals are debauched in one way or another. I’m surprised to see just how much of a square you are.”

“Is... is being a square a bad thing?” You wanted to know. You never thought of yourself as a conformist, in fact your mother used to tell you you’ll die an old maid if you didn’t start acting more like a lady and less like a spoilt brat.

“Sometimes it is...” she pondered. “Well, for instance, being a square in bed might be boring for some men.”

“What?” you gasped again. Tightening your grip on her arm and walking at a faster pace to put some distance between you and your maids, “Give us a minute,” you told them.

“Lady Sharon,” you looked into her blue eyes, much like your husbands but a little darker, “Have you ever been with a man?”

“I have,” she shrugged. “Just the one. He was my true love.”

“Bu – but you aren’t married.” You frowned.

“So?”

“So, how can you make love to anyone if you aren’t married...” Your mother had told you that making love only ever happened between a man and his wife.

“I... you do know what making love entails right? This is what I meant when I said you were too much of a square,” she chuckled.

“Don’t... don’t make fun of me...” you pouted.

“I’m sorry, your grace, it’s just,” she put a hand over her mouth as she cleared her throat, “Really funny. Two people, who aren’t married, can make love. Being married is good but not a requirement.��

“I suppose that makes sense, me and his majesty could do it even if we weren’t married...”

“Is he happy with you?” she wanted to know.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, you don’t know much about physical relations, and there needs to be a certain level of knowledge and experience for it to be good at it.”

“Do you think he is unsatisfied with me?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “Does he seem unsatisfied?”

He was always asking for it. Which you preferred, because you’d die of embarrassment if you ever had to initiate it. You couldn’t go for too long without it either. He had went on a hunting trip for just a couple of days and you wanted to jump on him and keep him in your bed as soon as you saw him.

Why would he ask for it again and again if he was satisfied?

“I’m not sure... since you know so much about it would you give me some advice?”

“My, I would’ve thought you’d call me a harlot or a whore instead you’re asking for advice...” she smirked.

“Oh, I would never. That is what my mother would say, probably, but you’re my friend. Besides, I would want to make love to Steve even if we weren’t married, and if he was a stable boy.”

“A stable boy?” she quirked a blonde brow.

“Yes! And I would be me, a princess. It’s just a silly dream I used to have,” you shrugged. “What happened to your love? The one you lost?”

“He got married to someone else,” she stated. And although she was firm and sophisticated as always, you could hear his voice wavering and how much pain she was in.

“Oh my... I am so sorry, Sharon,” you said, engulfing her in a hug to comfort her, now that you do actually love someone, now that you know what loving someone deeply means, how overwhelming it can be, you couldn’t even imagine what losing that love would feel like. “You’ll find someone better.”

“There is no one better, your grace. But I’ll give you some advice,” she pulled away from you, putting some distance between you both, “You have to pay special attention to his balls. Many ladies tend to forget them.”

“Ball...? Like toys? I don’t believe he has any.”

“Your grace,” she rolled her eyes as she snickered, “He does have them. That is where your children will come from.”

“Um... what? Wouldn’t they come from...” you looked down, to the place between your legs. That’s where kids come from. That’s what you had been told.

“Well, yes, that is where they will pop out of. But the balls... the ones right behind his manhood, that’s where his seed comes from.”

“Oh...” you nodded as you realised what she was talking about. “So... what about the... balls?”

“Just pay special attention to them. He would like that. Suck on them, tug on them... but gently!” she chuckled as she realised she would have to talk down to you since you were so inexperienced.

“Oh... alright... anything else I can do?”

“Try to be more... active... instead of just sitting there and taking it you know?”

“Alright. I think I get the gist of it.”

“You ready for me, petal?” Steven asked as he looked down at you, naked and vulnerable, so beautiful and all his. He nudged his cock against your intimate lips, prodding at your entrance as he awaited your answer. He knew he could be too much for you sometimes, he was trying to do better. So he could make you love him at least half of as much as he loves you.

“Mm-hm... but um...” you trailed off. Not exactly knowing how you would go about asking to suck his balls.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if... I could... do that...” you fluttered your lashes, that usually got you whatever you wanted from him.

“And what is ‘that’?”

“You know... when you make me put my mouth on you...”

He didn’t usually make you use your mouth.

Most of the times Steven had a strict unofficial schedule he followed when it came to lovemaking. He wasn’t someone who liked or embraced change, he was always strategic, as a king and as your husband.

He’d kiss you till you were out of breath, then your neck, and then your breasts, he’d spend a long amount of time there, maybe because you liked that the most probably. And then he’d use his fingers to work you up, tasting you, eating you out and drinking your nectar.

That drove you mad, till you were on the brink of insanity.

You loved it as much as you hated it. You had never felt so out of control in your entire life. Not even when your parents told you they were going to marry you off to a kingdom far away, to a man you had never even met before.

Steven would complain that you thrashed and moved around too much, although he would encourage you to make all the noise that you wished. He pinned you down by your hips. Sometimes he’d make you make once, twice, thrice, it depended on how desperate he was to get his own release.

And then he’d have you on your back. Whispering the filthiest things to you as he fucked you, filled you up with his seed.

He’d hold you close to him, kissing your hair, kissing your cheeks and touching your ever so intimately. That was when you were the most clingy, you’d hold on so tightly to him. You were more vulnerable than usual. You would tell him about how, even though you love being the queen and his wife, it was so new and overwhelming, how you miss your family and your old life. How things had changed and so drastically. He’d always tell you that it would all be okay. That he would take care of you and never let anything bad ever happen to you.

Then he’d have you on your hands and knees. He told you he liked looking at your behind and spanking it.

After that you’d both fall asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and nudge you awake to love you some more. But he rarely ever made you suck him off.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he smirked as you meekly nodded. “Go right ahead then, petal. It’s all yours now, you don’t have to ask,” he told you as he sat up on his knees.

You looked at his cock. Hard and standing tall and proud up against his stomach. You now knew that being aroused made him hard and much much bigger. Maybe that’s why it’s often such a tasking job to take him--often leaving your cunt so sore.

Soft dark golden hair, much like that of his beard, and then you noticed them. His twin balls.

You took a deep breath as you took him in your mouth, suckling on his head, following your instincts and what he had taught you.

Your hand coming up and cupping his balls, massaging them gently in your hand. You stopped when you felt him go stiff.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth you looked up at him. “Did I do something wrong?” as you wiped your spittle and his preejaculate off your mouth.

“No,” he shook his head. It wasn’t often that he was stunned. Not ever really. But you, taking that kind of initiative, to touch him without him asking for you to, did shock him just a little.

He held onto the back of your head, bringing his balls just next to your mouth, against your soft lips, “Suck on them,” he told you.

You suckled at one, working the other one with your hand as he pulled at the roots of your head.

“Fuck! Stop!” he heaved, pulling you away, “I have to save it for your beautiful cunt, my queen,” he told you as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he pushed you back down on the mattress.

Swiftly entering you, you were still as tight as the night of your wedding, which meant he had to be patient while fucking you, and he tried. He really did. But he was not a patient man. Especially not when you had just put your mouth on him and worked your magic in mere seconds.

He put most of his weight on you as he slowly pushed in and out of you, your face scrunched up in pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

With your pussy hugging him so well, almost as if it was made for him, as if you were made by the gods just for him.

“What have you done to me?” he rasped, touching his damp forehead to yours. You had weaved some sort of magic on him, making him crazy for you. Now it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.

You pressed a hand against your mouth to stop from giggling or making any sort of noise. Resting your back against the cool surface of the throne. You chose the back of the throne in the court as your place of hiding. Maybe it wasn’t the most strategic ploy but you were playing against a six year old.

Lila Barton had asked to play hide and seek with you. Only to receive a scolding from her nanny--to not bother the queen with such trivial matters.

It was as if you were reliving your childhood. You always felt you were made to grow up and be a lady too fast. With your mother and sisters telling you how important it was to act mature and be a lady, or you wouldn’t be able to marry well. Or marry at all.

So you jumped at the first opportunity to play with the kid. Making her count to twenty before looking for a place to hide. You had to go get your lessons for sewing so you didn’t have a lot of time, you hoped she would find you soon.

“But you’re not even considering it!”

You perked up when you heard the familiar voice, it was Lady Sharon! You had to thank her for all her advice, things had been going great with Steven ever since you listened to her. He had been opening up to you as well, although he was still as voracious in his love making. If anything... he wanted you even more now. Which you didn’t think could even be possible.

But some part of you absolutely loved it. And you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You peaked out to see her, to maybe call her to join you on the floor, hiding behind the large throne. You frowned when you saw that she was holding onto Steven’s arm, looking up at him with a certain desperation in her eyes.

“There is nothing to consider. I’m a married man. It would be adultery – a crime,” he stated.

“Bu – but you promised, you told me you didn’t love her. You said you didn’t have any other choice. I’m not asking you to leave her for me, I know that’s not possible. I’m not a fucking idiot like her.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth again to keep your sobs in, tears streaming down your face as you watched your husband, and his lover, have a lovers quarrel.

You couldn’t hear any more of it. Couldn’t bear it breaking your heart anymore than it already had. You quickly got up, fleeing out of the room by the back entrance - which the servants often used.

“You watch your mouth when you speak of the queen,” he yanked his arm free of her, putting some distance between himself and her, “I didn’t make any promises like that. I told you I intended to be faithful to her even if I didn’t love her.”

He knew it was a mistake to ever get involved with Sharon. He never wanted to be a womanizer. But he had his needs. He didn’t think she would become so obsessed with him. He had broken off their short fling as soon as he became betrothed to you.

He felt responsible for all the rumours about him and her and her ruined reputation. So he had arranged for her to marry his good friend Stark but she had her mind set on him.

“I like the queen. She’s a good friend of mine. I don’t intend to replace her,” she explained. She had no interest in being a queen and having such tedious and boring responsibilities anyway—the power and the status that came along with it just wasn’t worth the hassle. She pitied you and how you just weren’t made for the job.

“But she can’t satisfy you, she can’t give you what you need-- What I can give you,” Being the Kings mistress would probably be better than being a Duchess and marrying some boring old man.

“Won’t you even think about it?”

“No I won’t. And you are to never speak of this again,” he warned her.

“Your grace...” Lydia was completely confused. Standing there with your dress in her hands as you frantically stuffed your clothes in a chest.

She had never seen two people as in love as you and the king. When she first met you, it didn’t seem as if you and Steven would make a good couple. She assumed your marriage would be like any other she had seen. Cold and distant.

Steve had never been smitten with a woman, she always felt there maybe something wrong with him. But he had grown so fond of you in such a short time. Even going as far as asking you to live with him in his chambers. Having the king around often made her duties to you challenging. But she was happy for you.

“I don’t understand. What wrong? Why do you want to leave so suddenly.” Does the king approve of your sudden departure? If not would she get in trouble for it?

“He lied to me,” you sobbed. “I thought--” you let out a hiccup.

“Calm down,” she said as she rubbed your forearms. She wasn’t afraid to touch you in such friendly ways, you weren’t as stuck up as most royals.

You took a deep breath as you tried to explain to your handmaiden why you both had to leave as soon as possible. Before Steven gets back. You’ll move all your things to the room you were supposed to live in and just lock him out of your chambers.

“I would’ve been fine living on my own. Just being a wife and a queen. But he made me believe... that we could be more. That he loved me. It’s not true,” you shook your head. “He lied. He has another lover.”

“Oh,” she let out. She was disappointed on your behalf but not surprised. It would be strange if the king didn’t have any other lovers. “I’m sorry, your grace.”

“I’ll be fine,” you sniffled. “This'll be a good lesson for me. My mother always told me I have my head in the clouds and should live in reality. That’ll teach me to dream.”

It was almost funny for her to watch you babble nonsense, stable boys, princesses and backstabbing friends, take a break to cry your heart out and then resume packing and trying to order all the other servants.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone stopped moving as soon as they heard the kings voice. He of course looked at the Lydia for an explanation.

“The queen wants us to...”

“I’m moving back to my old chambers,” you briskly walked to him, standing right in front of him, looking him in the eye. He was much taller than you, making you crane your neck to actually get a good look at him, but you still tried to look intimidating and confrontational.

“Why?” he frowned. “Put everything back just as it was,” he ordered everyone.

“No!” you stomped your foot, looking very much like an indignant child who had his toy taken away, than a queen, “Don’t! We’re moving!” But of course nobody would listen to you over Steven. Not just because he was their king, but also because he was much more intimidating than you.

“Stop it!” he reprimanded you. “Whatever troubles you may have, we can sort them out together, but you are not moving back. And that’s the end of that.”

“No! I’m leaving! I’d like to see you try to stop me!” You hmphed. Pushing past him and making way for the door. You didn’t need to take your things with you now, you could just send for them later.

You screamed bloody murder when you felt Stevens arm around your stomach, as he threw you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye, “HELP!!” You yelled at the guards and your maids, who didn’t want to get involved, quickly scurrying out of the room.

“Ring the bell if you need anything, your grace,” Lydia said on her way out to you before she closed the door. It didn’t seem as if the king intended to do any real harm to you so she wasn’t that worried about you.

You kept on hitting his back, thrashing around his hold to break free, “Put me down!”

He threw you on your marital bed, his fingers making quick work of ridding him of his clothes so he could show you how he was just never going to let you go.

“Why do you even care? If I leave or not? You can just call for your lover!”

“My lover?” he frowned as he tried to push your skirts up your legs, which was proving to be a difficult task. Maybe he should’ve asked the maids to undress you before making them leave.

“Do you love her?” you asked, looking up at him and stopping your futile resistance for a few moments, your lips wobbly as you felt your vision blue with tears. You were born a princess, living a relatively sheltered life, never knowing pain so unbearable. As if you would never recover from this, you would never be the same.

You would never believe in love again.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, petal,” he said, getting frustrated with all the buttons and ties on your dress and ripping your skirt apart. Which he regretted, just a little because you started crying again.

“No! I like this dress.”

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He said as he hovered over you, diving in to kiss your beautiful lips and make you stop saying such preposterous things.

You sniffled as you tried to push him away, making him gather your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

“Stop it,” he told you. “When will you understand that you belong to me now? If I say you have to live with me, here, then that’s what you’ll do.”

“I’m not your slave,” you retorted as you tried to wiggle your hands out of his grip.

“Stop listening to rumors! There are plenty going around. I do not have a lover.”

“No. I saw it with my own eyes. You and Lady Sharon. Just this afternoon.”

“What did you see?”

“I... she said she was your lover...?” You tried to think of what exactly had been said between them. But you couldn’t remember. You were blinded by your fury and your sorrow.

“We used to be lovers, before you and I ever met, but not anymore. I could never think of another, I could never love anyone else,” he said softly as he touched your cheek with his other hand, “You want to know why?”

“Why?” you pouted, feeling a little stupid now.

“Because you’ve ruined me, my queen. You’ve made me a lovesick fool. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. Do you want to know how much I love you?” he asked as you meekly nodded.

Pulling his cock out of breaches, he pushed your skirts up, exposing your thighs to him, he rubbed his cock along the slick of your pussy.

“Did fighting with me make you wet, my queen?” he asked, making you avert your gaze.

“I...” it was the way he had simply thrown you around, how he just wouldn’t let you leave, “Maybe...”

“Hm, don’t start picking fights with me for no reason though. My poor heart won’t be able to bear it,” he cooed as he kissed your cheeks, wet from your tears. “You look beautiful when you cry, love, but I only want you crying when I’m fucking you, you understand?”

“Yes...”

He pushed inside you, you were tighter than usual, it was difficult to even properly enter you. The pain of it of course made you cry again. You sobbed into the crook of his neck as he shushed you.

“You feel my love, darling,” he asked as he was buried to the hilt inside you, “I’ll give you a child soon enough. Then you’ll have a living breathing proof of it,” he whispered in your ear as he started steadily moving, making sure that he won’t hurt you.

“I wish... I was your one and only... like you are mine,” you sniffled as you held on to him, soon it is wasn’t hurting as much, it was a little uncomfortable but you could bear through it.

“You are my one and only. You’re the only woman I have ever loved. Do you love me, petal?”

He looked down at you, wanting you to say it. He needed you to love him, for you to say it to him, he needed to know you weren’t here just because you were scared of him.

“I love you, Steve,” you sniffled, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand.

He smiled at you, his hand trailing down both your bodies as he twisted your pearl between his fingers.

“It’s okay... it’s okay...” He kept telling you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your climax making your mind and your vision fuzzy.

“I’m going to fill you up, petal,” he told you as he finished inside you, staying inside you for a long while after he was done just to make sure you knew how he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

[pinkanonwrites]

heyy! I'm new to your page. I was looking through your work and it's so good!

I had a request. are you okay with writing cockwarming headcanons with Osamu,Kuroo, Ushijima,Kita and Tsukishima?

I'm sorry if this is too specific and makes you uncomfortable!

Thank you for reading, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. This is a great prompt! It's been a while since I've written some good smut, let's hope I haven't lost my touch!

NSFW Below the cut!

Osamu Miya

When Osamu has been craving your touch all day but is too exhausted to actually do anything after a long day at work, cockwarming is the perfect compromise. Don't be surprised if he actually dozes off while you're sitting on his dick.

"Samu, baby, don't you wanna go to sleep?"

You can barely hear his noise of disapproval where his face is buried in the crook of your neck, but you can feel him lazily shake his head 'no.' He'd gone soft a while ago but had no interest in letting you out of his grip, even as his eyelids drooped and he stifled yawns into your shoulder.

"Not yet, doll. Jus' a lil bit longer... Keep me warm."

You chuckle and push his hair back from his forehead, running your fingers through his locks in a slow, soothing rhythm. He hums his approval and lets out a small, contented sigh.

"Alright, just don't be upset when you're tired tomorrow."

Kuroo Tetsurou

Cockwarming is always a challenge with Tetsurou, both of you desperate for the other but unwilling to let them win your little back-and-forth game. Best used when you feel like he's not giving you enough attention.

Kuroo groans as you purposely flex around his hot cock, and you hear his pen clatter to the table as his hand flies to rest in the small of your back. You can practically picture the look on his face, his eyebrows knitted in arousal and frustration.

"Are you already done? I thought you had paperwork to finish.~" You tease, but your victory is short-lived when you feel Kuroo sink his teeth into the base of your neck, before lathing his hot tongue over the bite mark.

"I'd be done sooner if a certain troublemaker would stop distracting me. Now sit still and let me finish. Maybe if you're good I'll let you cum. Maybe."

Ushijima Wakatoshi

He doesn't fully understand the appeal, but he knows it's something you really, really enjoy. He's very good at keeping a composed face even as you lose your patience and start to get squirmy.

You can't help but whine as Ushijima's hands come to rest on your hips, holding you firm in place so you can no longer rock your hips in the little circles you had been sure he hadn't been noticing up until now.

"Toshi..." You whimper, but a kiss pressed to the base of your jaw was the only reciprocation he offered, his eyes still fixed on the game playing on TV.

"I thought the point was to sit still." His voice rumbles where his chest is pressed against your back. "You can wait just a little bit longer."

"Toshi, please?" Desperation edges your voice, but he's already refocused himself on the match. Guess you have no choice but to be patient.

Kita Shinsuke

Fully revels in any opportunity to be close to you, to press skin against skin at as many points as he possibly can and let himself succumb to your warmth, your touch. He's completely enamored with you, and this is just one of many ways he shows it.

The soft creak of the mattress springs barely registers in your ears, the rest of your body completely lost in the warmth of Shinsuke nestled against you, your shared heat staving off the winter cold outside your home.

"Thought you were too tired..." Your voice slurs, thick with exhaustion. Shinsuke appears to be faring no better than yourself. Usually rather quiet, his breath ghosting over your ear was punctuated with little gasps and whines. His pace slowed at your words, but that only made the fire beginning to stir in the pit of your stomach hotter, more eager.

"Sorry," He murmurs, his thumb massaging a circle into your hip. "I wanted to let you sleep, but..."

You rock your hips back against his and he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. The two of you need no words, your approval obvious in the way you rut back against him. You would both be tired in the morning, but it would be more than worth it.

Tsukishima Kei

Tsukishima uses cockwarming as an excuse to tease you as much as usual, putting on a stoic face and pretending it doesn't affect him nearly as much as it actually does. He likes seeing you squirm, pretending to have his thoughts elsewhere as you're desperate for his attention.

"You can't even sit still for five minutes, can you?" You jump a little at his voice breaking the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Had you been moving? Surely you hadn't, you'd been doing so well up until this point.

"But I wasn't-!"

His hand comes around your waist and rests below your belly button, pressing on your stomach until the head of his cock rubs against somewhere just right and a moan tumbles out before you can stop it. He clicks his tongue at you, but you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"I can feel you twitching, inside. You're desperate for it." You feel him drag out from your aching walls and you're so, so sure he's going to pull out entirely when he thrusts forward again, making your entire body jolt. "I'm almost done, think you can stop being so needy until then?"

[football-and-fanfics]

Nightmare - John Stones

Who: John Stones Request: Can I request 7 or 11 for John Stones please x Prompt #7: Nightmare Requested by: @johnstonessss Warnings: mentions of nightmares (obviously 😉) A/N: prompts #11 was already taken, so I've written #7 😇

Whenever John had a nightmare, it always was the same one: he sustained a horrible injury during a match, and in the hospital they would tell him he would never play football again. This nightmare usually surfaced whenever he was extremely nervous or anxious about something. Tomorrow’s Champions League final was most certainly the reason for it. As always when this happened, John startled awake, covered in cold sweats and somewhat out of breath. “Dammit,” he grumbled to himself, as he sat up in his bed and passed a trembling hand over his face. He was sharing a hotel room with Kyle, whom, he was glad to see, hadn’t been awoken. Or so John thought… “Nightmare?” It came sleepily from the other bed. John startled slightly at his friend being awake after all. "Yeah." There was a rustling sound, and suddenly the light on Kyle's nightstand switched on. He sat upright in his bed, looking over at John. “I figured that.” Kyle spoke softly. “You’ve been thrashing and mumbling for the past minute. I was about to wake you up, when you already did that yourself.” “I'm sorry,” John mumbled guiltily. “Nah.” Kyle waved it away. “What did you dream about? You seem genuinely shook by it.” John took a long, deep breath before he answered. “It’s always the same. I get this horrible injury, and… get told I’ll never be able to play football again.” Kyle frowned. “Always? You get this more often?” “It surfaces whenever I’m nervous for something,” John confessed. "Such as a Champions League final." Kyle nodded understandingly. John ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. "Apparently." For a short while Kyle just watched John. His friend sat hunched over, looking quite undone by this nightmare. "You know, in the end it's just another match." Kyle tried to ease John's mind. John scoffed softly. "That's not going to work, mate." "Why not?" Kyle shrugged with a smirk. "You're not having a nightmare right now, are you?" John looked over at his friend, a smile playing on his lips. Somehow, this was such a Kyle thing to say that it indeed took his mind off his nightmare or how rattled he felt. "Getting better?" Kyle asked, serious again. “Yeah,” John sighed. He was indeed feeling calmer now, as the worst of the nightmare’s after-effects ebbed away. “Let’s get back to sleep." “Sure? Are you feeling calm again?” Kyle asked kindly. “Yes, I think so." John genuinely appreciated Kyle’s concern and efforts to make him feel better. "Thanks for talking to me." John lay back down, as Kyle switched off the light. It took a few minutes, but finally he fell asleep again. And the nightmare did not return.

Tags: @glam-khal, @evie-pr, @gryffinwars, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001 John Stones tags: @footballffbarbiex PL tags: @ella33 If you would like to be added to the tags list, too, you can fill out this form and I'll add you to it! For more of my John imagines, click here

[undercityviktor]

Hey I'm not sure if you're taking writing requests or not but after reading your one about the lab confessions and seeing that post you made about Jayce bringing Viktor food I would like to request something based off of that prompt for sure!

Hello Anon! You’re my first Anon on this sideblog, so congratulations! Have a glass of sweetmilk on me. Thanks for reaching out!

I’m not specifically taking requests for fics, but I’m always up for inspiration if the mood strikes, and I’m really glad to hear you enjoyed the Late Night Lab Confessions story. I hope to put it on AO3 if I ever get the set-up email back from them (I have an account already, but I wanted one specifically for Arcane shenanigans). So far all I seem to have written is super fluffy jayvik stuff...

I did actually start a fic based on my earlier idea, but it ended up getting all in-depth and angsty first before I even got to the foody bit, so I’ll see what happens with it. Here’s the unedited first 1000 words or so though?

Rating: General, sfw Wordcount: 1180 Content: Viktor’s unhealthy work habits means he has a tendency to neglect his other needs. Jayce sees this, and starts to make an effort.

___

It had only taken two weeks of sharing the lab with Viktor for Jayce to come to loathe the smell of instant noodles.

“You know those aren’t supposed to be eaten as, like… regular meals, Vik?” he said as Viktor coiled a wad of bland noodles around his fork and levered it into his mouth without taking his eyes off the notebook in front of him.

Viktor didn’t respond immediately, swallowing down the lump of rehydrated carbohydrates and sodium with obvious distaste.

Jayce chuckled. “Why do you eat them if you don’t like them?”

“They’re convenient,” Viktor mumbled around a final mouthful. That done, he scooted the abandoned, half-empty pot away from him over the desk with the back of his fingers and scratched something onto the page, adding to his calculations. His thick eyebrows were knotted in concentration and his shoulders had a particular hunch to them that spoke of a forthcoming all-nighter. Jayce tried not to sigh as he stumped over and picked up the remnants of Viktor’s ‘meal’ and went to drop it down the chute that led to the incinerators. Viktor didn’t even notice him remove it.

Five hours slid by after that without a word exchanged between them.

Jayce focused all his mental energy on the wiring up the prototype gauntlet, while Viktor remained bent over his calculations until Jayce stood, blinked prickling eyes, and cracked out his back and stretched his muscles with a grunt that turned into a muted roar of satisfaction at the tug and give of the stretch. When he looked back at Viktor, he found his lab partner looking at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Viktor said with a private little smile. “You distracted me, that’s all.”

“Sorry?” Jayce said as he crossed the room to peer over Viktor’s shoulder. “Holy shit, Vik,” he added in a reverent exhale when he saw the notebook. Almost every millimetre of the white paper bore some kind of scribble or notation, and as Jayce loomed behind him, he caught a slight but distinctive tremor in Viktor’s body. “You’re exhausted, Vik,” he said in gently. “We should call it for today. Come back fresh tomorrow.”

“Mmm,” Viktor hummed.

He tipped back just a fraction on the stool and his back came to rest against Jayce’s front. Jayce’s whole body lit up and he had to grind his jaw to stop the gasp of pleasure leaving his lips. Tentatively, he brought his big hands up to his friend and lab-partner’s shoulders and rested them there for a moment.

“You’re cold,” he said, scowling.

“Not particularly,” Viktor sighed without moving.

Beneath Jayce’s palm, he could feel the lump of the leather strap that held up Viktor’s system of relatively-new braces, but beneath that, he was sure Viktor was cold and trembling. The urge to run his fingers through Viktor’s thick, dark hair in a futile attempt at easing some of the tension in his body was almost overwhelming, but instead he let out a long, heavy sigh. “Come on. Let’s lock up.”

To his surprise, Viktor didn’t protest this time.

He simply nodded, and then began to shuffle forwards in preparation for standing. Beside him, the crutch that he had designed, and which Jayce had then made himself in the forge, leaned innocently against the desk, waiting.

Jayce stepped back to allow Viktor room to rise, but when Viktor got halfway up and let out a muffled yelp, Jayce darted back. “Vik?”

“Cramp,” Viktor grunted, clutching the desk with bird-like hands, shaking all over.

He cursed something in his mother tongue and pushed his reluctant body the last few degrees to upright, fumbling for the crutch that rested a few inches beyond his reach. Silently, Jayce slid it into his waiting fingers, and tried not to hover. Viktor never asked for help, but that didn’t mean Jayce wasn’t ready to give it in a heartbeat if Viktor needed him.

Except, Viktor didn’t seem to need him.

He didn’t seem to need anybody.

Jayce’s heart beat wildly in his throat as they walked to the doors and Viktor locked up behind them with trembling hands.

“You got plans for dinner?” Jayce asked with an affected casualness he hoped Viktor didn’t sense.

Viktor shook his head. “Not particularly. I’ll see what’s in the cupboards,” he smiled.

“Why don’t you come back to mine?” Jayce suggested, trying to rein in his desperately rearing hope. “I’ve got a huge bucket of my mum’s curry to finish — she packed me off with it yesterday after I went to see her, and there’s way more than I can manage.” After a heartbeat he added, “It won’t keep.”

Viktor paused noticeably, and the only sounds that filled the silence that stretched between them were the click-shuffle of Viktor’s cane and foot on the smooth floor of the corridor. “Alright,” he said with a little shy smile. “If you’re sure you’ve got enough.”

“Trust me, when my mum cooks, she cooks enough to feed a small army. I think you’ll love it.”

And to his surprise, Viktor did.

He even wiped his plate with the remnants of the soft flatbread Jayce had dug out from a cupboard and flung onto the table at the last minute, and when he sat back, there was colour in his cheeks again and a light in his eyes that had definitely not been there when he’d sat down at Jayce’s small garret kitchen table.

“Thank you, Jayce,” Viktor said, consonants soft and voice low. “It has been a long time since I made the time to enjoy a meal like that.”

Brilliant, effervescent joy filled Jayce’s chest and he beamed openly at Viktor. “We should do it more often,” he said, standing. If he sat still any longer, he thought he might burst. Viktor made to start clearing his plate too, but Jayce scowled. “No, you sit. I’ll get the plates.”

“But you cooked,” Viktor protested.

“I reheated it on the stove, Vik. It’s fine. You’re my guest tonight.”

The familiar yet incomprehensible mutterings of Viktor’s mother tongue followed Jayce as he set the plates in the sink and returned immediately. He could wash up after Viktor had gone.

“You want to sit somewhere more comfortable?” he asked, eyeing the sofa across the open plan room, but he could see Viktor’s response forming even as he asked it.

His friend shook his head, his lovely thick hair flopping across his forehead for a moment, and he smiled again. “No. I should get back. Thank you though. I… I enjoyed this.”

Jayce plastered a smile onto his face and nodded, though he couldn’t help the disappointment that lapped around the edges of his satisfaction.

It was a start, he mused as he watched Viktor’s departure down the corridor from his apartment in the eaves of a university hall.

At the end of the corridor, Viktor halted and looked back over his shoulder. A shy, bashful smile adorned his tired face, and Jayce grinned, waving.

It was a start.

___

Hope you enjoyed it! Please consider reblogging it if you did, because I’m a new sideblog and any shares I get is helpful.

Check out my Tumblr writing masterlist here. I’ll add an AO3 link when I get one too, for those who prefer reading on there instead.

Take care, and Happy New Year (almost!)

[nastyatticman]

Uhh hi

Could you do just phone sex with billy lenz but with a male reader? And like showing both povs

Sorry if that too much

It’s not too much! I love this prompt 👀 I love writing Billy’s POV too, it’s fun!

This ended up way longer than I intended but I had a lot of fun with it! Enjoy :3c

Billy Lenz x male Reader

Warnings: voyeurism, crude language (it’s Billy Lenz after all). Reader is male, and it’s written vague enough to be trans inclusive. (Well, it works for me, but YMMV. Words like cock, hole, etc are used) 18+ Only

Things were tense lately - you were having an awful time at work, and it didn’t help that people were always rude about your work’s mask policy. You just couldn’t understand how someone would complain about having to wear a piece of cloth in the five minutes it took to order donuts, especially to you, who obviously had to wear one all day and stay on your feet the whole time.

It was stupid. People are stupid. You were just glad to get back to your apartment and lay down for a while. It was a little lonely, just you and the plants since your roommate was out to visit his girlfriend’s family. Not that you’d missed seeing him every day in quarantine.

No, you kind of appreciated the privacy. Today you were frustrated and couldn’t think of anything that sounded better than getting off. So you watered the plants, grabbed yourself a drink, and loaded up a video you bought recently.

You started off slow, rubbing yourself through your clothes as the guys started making out on the screen - the big screen, since you finally felt comfortable watching porn on your laptop. As things started to escalate, you undid your pants, finally stroking your cock directly. But, like all things today, some stranger decided to interrupt you.

The phone rang down the hall and you almost let it ring, but you remembered your friend was expecting a call from a place he’d applied to, so you had to answer it anyway. Ugh. You rinsed your hand quickly and picked it up.

“Hello?”

The line was silent, save for some heavy breathing. God, not this guy again... You weren’t sure who the mystery caller was, but he’d grown on you. First you thought it was your roommate’s friend Peter playing a prank on you (even though you’d met him and his girlfriend Jess, and they seemed serious, despite how out of his league she was). You didn’t know, straight men are weird.

But Peter denied it when you had your roommate ask him, so... And besides, how many straight men call their male acquaintances to proposition them for sex?

At this point, it was tempting - you didn’t have time to meet people since the lockdown began, and your roommate was out...

The man kept breathing, once in a while making a strangled noise like he was trying not to laugh.

“Are you gonna get to the point already?” you asked him.

He laughed. “You want my cock, you pig? Fuck - fucking whore wants my fat fucking cock, filling up his tight ass?”

“Oh, quit projecting on me,” you teased. “I bet you’d want me to fuck your ass, don’t you?”

He was speechless for a second, and you heard something that could be him swallowing hard over the phone. His response was barely audible. “Maybe. Y- yeah.”

You smirked, you didn’t know if that would work. “Yeah, if I were there you know what I’d do?”

He took a shaky breath. “What?”

“I’d bend you over for me, yeah,” you said, voice low. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but you brought the phone into your room, laying back on the bed, your hand back to stroke yourself through your pants. “If - if you’re wearing pants I’d rip them off, I don’t fucking care. I’d spread your cheeks and eat your ass.”

You thought back to something he said on a previous call. “You like tongue fucking, huh?” The only response you got was his breathing getting harder, the sounds of skin slapping against skin on the other end. Hook, line, and sinker.

“I’d fuck you on my tongue, fill you up with it, so you’re ready to take my fingers,” you continue. There was a strangled moan on the other end. “Start you off with one, I bet you’d want another just as fast. You’d beg for it, huh?”

“Fuck me,” he rasped.

“Someone’s a needy little... pig, huh?” you asked. He made a noise like he was choking, almost, which made you nervous for a second. But he seemed fine by the way he kept at it. Only thing that was being choked was his chicken on the other end of the line, you were sure. “What do you have to say to that?”

Click.

The only answer you got was a dial tone. That dick hung up on you!

Well, shit, you were already there, you may as well... You put the phone down and laid back, stroking your cock again. You had no idea what that guy looked like, but the sound of him moaning and touching himself over the phone was more than enough to get you off...

The rest of the day passed normally. Unsurprisingly, you got a good night’s sleep after that.

After another grueling day at the workplace, you got back to your apartment. Your roommate wasn’t there, but you saw that he left you a note on the counter explaining he was going to see his girlfriend again. That was fine by you, you... wouldn’t admit it, but you were maybe hoping for another call.

What you didn’t expect was how soon it would happen.

—

Billy watched the man walking up to the apartment complex, and slowly made his way to where he’d been staying. There was a surprisingly large storage room that had decent phone reception, and it was easy to steal from the building’s laundry room bit by bit if you knew what you were doing...

He waited and listened, drumming his fingers on his thighs. If he was quiet enough, he could just hear the sound of you unlocking and closing the door behind you. Click. Locked again.

Billy flipped open his phone and checked the time. 4:45. Okay, he’d give you maybe 7 minutes to get comfortable before he called. He flipped the phone closed, and grabbed something to occupy himself. It just was a broken Rubik’s cube he swiped from someone who visited a few weeks ago, but it was enough to keep him from getting tempted and getting to the main event before he even got you on the line with him. Well, that and to keep him from agonizing over it. He’d never had someone take over like that with him... he had plenty of people tell him to fuck himself, sure, but none so far that had told him they’d fuck him themselves.

None like you.

Eventually he gave up trying to solve it for real and just broke the pieces off, assembling it in the right colors. 4:55. Time enough for you.

He picked up the phone, leaning back on the wall, and dialed your number. Waiting for you to pick up, he fidgeted with his fly and undid his pants.

“Hello?” came your voice on the other end.

“I’ve been thinking about you, what you said,” he started up, groping his hardening cock.”How about I return the favor and fuck your tight fucking hole?”

Your voice was like honey to him. “Oh? Tell me about it, piggy.”

He gritted his teeth, grabbing his cock harder than he meant to. “You’re the pig, you- you took Billy’s call, you whore.”

“Fine by me,” you said, cool as a cucumber. “Tell me about it, Billy. If that’s your name.”

Billy bit his lip, doing his best to get his cock out with one hand. “Wanna - I wanna shove you against a wall, Turn you around, cover your mouth so your fucking roommate can’t hear you moaning for me. Grope your thighs, pull your goddamn hair, how about that?”

“Sounds good, but you know what really gets me going?” you asked. “I want you to bite me. Can you do that for me, Billy?”

“Yes,” he replied instantly. “Bite you so hard I leave fucking marks for fucking days. They’ll know you’re mine, mine, mine.” God, he was hard, his cock was leaking already, and he just used it to lube his hand as he stroked harder and faster.

“Oh? Why don’t you make me yours then? You wanna come in me?”

“Of course,” he replied, barely letting you finish. “I’m gonna fuck your tight little hole so hard you can’t fucking walk for days, everyone’s gonna hear you moan for me so hard, like a whore, Billy’s whore. Yes, I’m gonna fuck you sore, fuck you raw, fuck you senseless, come in your greedy fucking hole.”

He was close, he knew it. And for once you didn’t have a wise guy response for him! He barked out a laugh and imitated your voice almost perfectly. “What do you have to say to that?”

You didn’t respond fast enough, and it only made him cackle.

“I’m c-close, I’m gonna come,” he said. “Think about me flooding your tight little hole, you pig.”

He came, finally, and moaned into the phone for you. He played it up a little, for your benefit of course. He wouldn’t admit that was the hardest he’d come in a while.

You were close to follow him, and he sat there, panting, listening to you come down from your peak. He snickered. “Good piggy.”

“Same time tomorrow?” you asked, half joking.

“Yes,” he said instantly. “I’ll meet you, how about that?”

“Fuck yes, please,” you said. “Wait, how would you know where to meet me?”

Click.

Despite his abruptness, Billy was nothing if not a man of his word. Of course, you wouldn’t find that out until tomorrow...

[tootiredmotel]

For @one-more-offbeat-anthem 's 1k follower celebration. The prompt was "sickfics" and I've never written a sickfic in my life so, naturally, I adapted a scene from one of my comfort movies (Fever Pitch, 2005). HUGE congrats on your milestone love!!!

read on ao3 or below (1.5k words)

Castiel should've known better than to listen to his brother regarding food. They have wildly different palates, and why he agreed to accompany Gabriel to lunch at some newly-opened new-age restaurant with barely any reviews, he'll never know. He wasn't thinking.

He could think even less that night, hunched over the toilet with food poisoning while his date knocked on his apartment door.

As soon as he could, Castiel scrambled to his feet and wobbled over to open it, his over-excitable golden retriever on his heels. Dean stood there in a nice leather jacket, all dapper and first-date-ready with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and it broke Castiel's heart to have to tell him:

"I'm sick."

He was sure it was evident in his eyes, death breath, hair sticking out in all directions from holding his head above the toilet, but he said it anyway.

"I'm really sick, I'm sorry. Come back tomorrow."

Castiel went to close the door, but Dean took a cautious step, bouquet forgotten at his side. "Sick how? You in pain? Do you need anything?"

"I just-" Castiel swallowed forcefully. "I ate at this new restaurant and-"

Just thinking about it made him run to the bathroom again, and he almost didn't make it on time. He barely registered Dean, still at the doorway, say something about Castiel (Cas, he called him) not needing to fake it if he didn't want to go out with him. A few seconds later, the door closed, and Castiel (still puking) thought that was that. He blew it with the handsome schoolteacher, all thanks to his brother's awful culinary taste.

His dog's wasn't so far behind. "Honey, please don't eat that," he reprimanded her, failing to shoo her out of the bathroom.

When he felt he was done, for the time being at least, he tried to stand. He was weak, and for a second he thought he might split his head open on the toilet seat, but then Dean was there, hands on his waist, helping him up. "I got you," said Dean, over and over again, and Castiel believed him.

Dean helped him to his bed where he tried to sit him down, but Castiel must've been weaker than he thought. He flopped backward, and then Dean cautiously lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.

"Thank you."

"Got some more comfortable clothes? Something to sleep in?"

It's then Cas remembered he was already dressed for the date, slacks and a white button-up (probably grossly stained, he hated to think), and pointed Dean to a drawer.

A second later Dean was gently hoisting him back to his feet, strong hands at his sides, saying "Here, I'll help you change. Promise I won't look. Too much, I won't look too much."

And that actually made Castiel chuckle.

Dean unbuckled and took off his slacks first, replacing them with sweatpants. It was a slow, quiet process, and Dean only spoke up after he'd taken off Castiel's tie and shirt. "Alright, I gotta be honest, I'm looking. Sorry, Cas."

Cas couldn't help another chuckle. Dean was incredibly respectful through it all, careful not to touch any skin unless he had to, which was mostly to keep Cas from falling over. He slipped a t-shirt onto him and laid Cas back down on the bed, this time with his head where it was supposed to be. That's when things started to blur, when his head hit the pillow.

"I don't think there's anything left in there, but just in case..."

Cas, through hazy vision, noticed Dean putting his empty hamper next to the bed. He thanked him, repeatedly. Cas isn't sure how many times he said it, over and over again, thank you.

"Hey, no, you just get some rest," was the last thing Cas heard Dean say before he was out like a light.

Cas suspects he briefly regained consciousness three times during that night.

The first time, he's sure of. He felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake. "Here," Dean said softly, placing a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it on the nightstand. "Drink this if you can, alright? Get your strength back." Cas nodded and fell back asleep.

The second time was more questionable, and he only knows it was real because he saw the results of it in the morning. He slowly awoke on his own and saw Dean in his bathroom across from his bedroom door, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the toilet with a sponge. Cas tried to stop him, tell him no, please, you don't have to do that, really, but couldn't help sleep drag him back down before he could get the words out.

The third time is the most unbelievable. Borderline fantastical. If it was real, he might just have to marry this guy.

Cas thinks he saw Dean brushing Honey's teeth.

Out of everything that happened the night before, that is all he can think about as he steps out of the shower in the morning. He plans to call Dean, send a fruit basket to his school, invite him on the best date of his life to repay him for all he did, and ask him. It's going to sound ridiculous, did you brush my dog's teeth or did I hallucinate that, and Dean will probably turn down his invite. If not for the hell he went through that night, then for Cas being insane.

And then Cas finds Dean asleep on his couch, Honey snuggled into his side. And yeah, he's probably going to marry this guy. This schoolteacher who happened to pick him and his office as a field trip destination for his math kids. This adorable guy that came back later that same day, thanked him for getting through to the kids (which Cas didn't think he had, but he digresses), and then asked him out. This unbelievably sweet guy that Cas initially rejected, god knows why, but then called at his school and left a message for, Saturday at seven, here's my address, because he couldn't get him off his mind. This caring, thoughtful, heaven-sent guy who showed up with flowers, now in a vase on his dining table, found Cas with food poisoning and proceeded to take care of him, his dog, and his apartment the rest of the night.

Before Cas can think about marrying him again (which he was going to, the hopeless romantic), Honey startles and jumps off the couch, waking Dean. Cas doesn't move, just watches as Dean sits up, notices him, then sits up straighter.

"Hey! Hey, how you feeling?" Dean asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He put products in his hair for the date, Cas notices, because it's now stiffly and adorably messed up.

"Much better. I won't be entering any pie-eating contests any time soon, though."

"Too bad. That was my next date idea."

Cas smiles, the words next date making his heart flutter in his ribcage. His question pops back into his mind.

"Did you, um..." Don't ask about the dog, he'll think you're crazy. He decides to go with "Did you clean my bathroom last night?" even though he knows the answer.

"Me? No."

Well. Cas thought he knew the answer. Probably dreamed it too. But then who-

"The vomit elves came in," Dean continues. "Real cute. Little hats, miniature vomit bags, adorable. Efficient too."

Cas is stuck somewhere between smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, and shaking his head while rolling his eyes. "Did the elves brush Honey's teeth too?"

"Oh no, that one was me."

And that has Cas laughing in earnest. At the sound of her name, Honey came bouncing back, settling next to Dean on the couch.

"Not letting the little bastards take credit for that one. This sweetheart loves me, and I earned that myself," Dean says, scratching Honey between her ears, enraptured.

"Dean, thank you." At that, Dean looks up. "Thank you. You could've just left, but you chose to stay. And you went above and beyond. Thank you."

Dean looks away and stands, trying to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Nah, it was nothing."

"It was everything," Cas says stepping forward, placing a beckoning hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean finally looks at him with a barely-there smile and a gaze that wants to escape, but he fights for it to stay on Castiel's face. Cas is glad he does, because he needs Dean to see, understand, how grateful he is.

"I uh... I got you these." Dean reaches for a paper bag on the coffee table, and that's when Cas takes his hand off his shoulder. "Some movies."

"Such as?"

"Mostly anime porn," Dean says, and Cas is doing it again, the chuckling/eye roll/head shake combo. "And some stuff I like to watch when I'm not doing great."

"Well, for me that would be documentaries."

"Wait." Dean blinks. "What? What did you say?"

"Documentaries. Preferably environmental, or perhaps historical in nature."

"No way, you're not gonna believe this," Dean says, a bit too much surprise on his face. "This is insane dude, check this out..."

He reaches into the bag, and Cas half believes he's about to pull out a copy of Disney's Earth. He's delighted to be wrong.

"Roadhouse."

Cas laughs again, and the beaming smile on Dean's face is what convinces him. He is definitely going to marry this guy.

[phoebe-delia]

Self Rec Tag

My lovely friend @kittycargo tagged me in this lil challenge!! Thank you Kate. You're a gem as always.

I'm gonna tag @wolfpants, @aqua-myosotis, @sugareey-makes-stuff, @thehoneybeet, @phdmama and anyone else who wants to hop in!

Do you ever reread your stuff and go “aww I love this and I’m glad I wrote it!”

Yes, sometimes I do! Sometimes the imposter syndrome is nice and quiet and I can actually enjoy my own work.

"this is me trying" (12k, T)

Contains: Driving, mental health stuff, self-care struggles, getting together, fluff.

Yes yes yes, I know I talk about this fic aaallll the time on self-rec lists. But it's just. It's my favorite thing I've written. It's probably the only fic that doesn't make me cringe to read at all.

Just Between Us (13k, T)

Contains: Accidental bonding, They Were Roomates, dancing, auror partners.

Y'know why I'm 'so glad I wrote' this? Because it was such a pain in the ass; mostly due to my own internal pressures/complications. Many of my friends can attest to the fact that writing this fic was like pulling teeth. I am so fucking glad it's done. And I'm proud of it.

Goodnight, and Have a Pleasant Tomorrow (1.4k, T)

Contains: SNL AU (still Magical tho), fluff, humor, no angst, jokes, Weekend Update.

Listen. I am so fucking proud of this one. It was a lot of work but it was so fun. (It was hard because I was writing actual Weekend Update jokes based on real news articles. Because I'm extra.)

Deliquesce (2.7k, T)

Contains: Fluff, getting together, first kiss, Boggarts, and fixing the castle.

This was the very first Drarry fic I ever wrote (Ch. 1 is; the sequel was later). I am so glad it exists because it brought me here.

Little Red (series) (M, 6.6k)

Contains: Murder and violence, Ambiguous/Open Ending. Please check the tags/warnings, and if anyone has questions/wants spoilers I am happy to help! (If it helps at all, I personally don't think it's that bad, and I am a very Soft person. But obviously, that's just me.)

I am so glad I didn't let this idea be just another entry on my list. I am so glad I went outside of my comfort zone to explore this.

Just Dance (455 words, T)

Contains: Fluff, humor, and geeking out over the game 'Just Dance.'

Listen. When I got this as an anon prompt for my Hanukkah series last year, I about lost my shit. I could not believe someone asked me to write this because I did not know anyone else could possibly be interested in reading this. I wrote it at a time when I was super into the game again, for the first time since I was a kid, and I was shocked. So anon, if you're out there...please know I hope both sides of your pillow are cold and you never hit another red light and there's no delivery fee when you order food.

Eight Drarry Nights (2021) and Eight Drarry Nights (2022)

Contains: Jewish Harry Potter, Judaism, Hannukkah, and some fics that have nothing to do with religion or holidays. Check the tags for more specifics; a couple fics have angst but most are fluff.

And last but not least, I am so fucking proud of this series. There's already some lovely representation of Jewish!Harry out there, but it is an honor to get to contribute some of my own.