#this is only a suggestive little ficlet but it's under a 'read more' just in case

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 10: Love is... Missing each other (Prompt by @lihhelsing)

wc: 723 | Rated: T for suggestive language & flirtacious banter | cw: None

Tags: Phone Calls, Rockstar!Eddie, Homesick, Eddie Misses Steve

Stevie, what are you wearing?

Eddie flips onto his stomach once he finally hears a dial tone. He didn’t think it would take this long, calling the concierge to transfer him to an international call, confirming his credit card and then waiting eons for a connection.

But fuck it, he misses his not-legally-binding husband.

It’s only been a week and the band has been killing it so far but…

Call him selfish, but Eddie misses the hell out of Steve, he is desperately resiting the urge to flee back to the airport and fly home. And he feels like a pathetic sap about it.

Maybe next time he should force the boys, their management and basically everyone around Corroded Coffin to set their touring to fit in with Steve’s school schedule. Yes, that could work – certainly much better than admitting how much he wants to be snuggled up in his comfy bed with Steve, drifting off to sleep together, hopefully without their cats bothering them too much.

The ringing continues and he worries that it is going to run out entirely. He bites at his thumb nail in anticipation – it’s not like he pre-organised this phone call and god knows what time it is in Hawkins.

“Hello?” Steve grumbles on the other end.

He sounds groggy with sleep, his voice a little far away as he likely fumbles for his glasses. Eddie grins and crosses his ankles, giddy like a goddamn schoolgirl calling her crush.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he beams, earning a whine at his equitable lack of volume control.

“S’early,” Steve mumbles, “Miss you.”

“I miss you more,” Eddie coos down the line. 

Steve huffs a laugh and echoes, “Miss you so much…”

There’s a rustling sound that follows and Steve hums.

“What are you doing?” Eddie wonders aloud.

“Getting comfy again,” Steve replies, “Closin’ my eyes and pretending you are next to me.”

“That so?”

Steve hums in the affirmative.

“Stevie…” Eddie purrs as he flips onto his back, “What are you wearing?”

“Sweatpants,” Steve replies, a smile evident in his voice.

“Nothing else...” he wonders.

“Nope!” Steve sounds a little more awake now.

“The barest chest,” Eddie continues, squirming around, feeling a teasing tingle at the thought – 

– Until the phone cord almost cuts off his air supply.

He palms around (though if anyone were to see him, it would probably be better described as a full-bodied flail) and tugs at the cord enough that something topples off the nightstand.

Whatever. As long as he can still hear Steve’s quiet and even breathing on the other end.

“What about you, Elvis?” Steve soon teases.

Eddie grimaces but responds nonetheless.

“I’m in my jeans,” he supplies, trying to remain at least a little coy, “And a t-shirt.”

“So, you aren’t ready for bed?” Steve teases, giggling out a little tee-hee that makes Eddie’s heart flutter – god he loves this silly man.

“Not until after I speak to you, precious,” he deadpans.

There’s another sound – like Steve is moving around amongst the bedsheets again. Eddie wiggles his brows and hastily hooks a finger under his waistband. But he soon scrunches his nose. He probably should have removed his belt and unzipped his fly during the never-ending dial tone.

“Shit,” Steve curses before groaning in a very unfun manner, “Oh no, buddy, c’mon!”

“What is it?” Eddie asks, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Go on, scram!” Steve commands, ignoring the question before whining again – one that sounds like whatever he is doing is an exercise in futility, “The cat won’t get off the bed.”

Eddie sinks back down.

Goddamn it.

“Which menace is bothering you, my darling?” he sighs, scrubbing his free hand over his face.

“Freddy.”

Eddie stifles a whimper as his heart swells. Of course, it’s the most adorable, scruffiest, wide-eyed and mischievous cat that’s annoying the heck out of Steve. A cat Steve himself only barely tolerates. Eddie can only imagine what Freddy must get up to when he touring.

“Fredrick?” he can’t help but beam, “Put him on the phone!”

“Eddie!”

“Please?” he begs, “I want to talk to him.”

“But what about…” Steve says, “Well, y’know?”

Eddie waves Steve’s worry away (even if he can’t see him).

“Keep it in your pants, Big Boy. We’ll get to that. Now put my son on the phone this instant!”

[galeorderbride]

Good lord! That Gale fic?! I made a GRAVE error and read it at work and now I have to concentrate while doing business things?! 10000/10 no notes! Thank you so much!!

What if Gale used Invisibility with a consenting Tav?

Ohhh you’re a gem for saying that thank you <3 and I hope you recovered from workplace smut (I have definitely made the same mistake lol)

You put a thought in my brain, anon. I made this little ficlet based on what you suggested :)

18+ MDNI for smut, including: inappropriate use of invisibility spell (consensual), surprise intimate touching, fingering

I wrote this with F!reader as the subject, hope that's ok <3

Words: 1164

Gale wasn’t a man to do the expected. When you permitted him to use an invisibility spell in your—private moments—he wasn’t going to simply sneak up on you while doing dishes or writing letters. He decided to take the time to make things elaborate, unexpected to the nth degree. Which is why, when he finally did execute his plan, you figured he’d forgotten about the conversation. You couldn’t deny your slight disappointment, anticipating a playful surprise as days went on. Never knowing when he’d take action. Only to have nothing happen. 

He was a busy man lately, now that he was a full time professor at Blackstaff and midterm season was peaking. Locking himself in his office for hours at a time, missing dinner if you didn’t bring him a plate after you’d finished. Followed by copious amounts of ‘thank yous’ and kisses on your cheek. Making sure you knew he hadn’t forgotten you, even if he holed himself up for so long. You tried to remain resilient, trust that he was preoccupied and once this time of the semester was complete, he’d be back to his attentive self once again. 

Self care was a good distraction from the hollow silence of the tower. Tara wasn’t even there to lift your spirits, visiting Morena for the night. Instead, you ran yourself an indulgent bath, using extra honey scented bubble bath and rosehip oil. Frothy suds blanketing the top layer of the hot water as you sunk your body into paradise. Letting yourself fall under the spell of relaxation as you tried to get your mind off the isolation. 

The dripping tap and gusts of wind against the glass windowpane were all that could be heard. Humming to yourself your favourite tunes from the bard performance you and Gale attended a week ago. Eyes closing as you became lost in the warm water, the perfect temperature for you. 

Until a shift in the formerly still water catches you off guard. A smooth, tranquil wave of the bubbles splitting in two, as if a hand broke between. Teasing through the gap of your spread knees. You hardly noticed at first, just thought it was a twitch of your leg or stretch of your foot. But the light flow around your skin becomes a soft but evident caress from ankle to calf. Someone is touching you, but you are completely alone. 

You unleash a shaky breath, a fearful but intriguing jerk within your muscles as the invisible touch hastens to move further between your legs. Ripples of water now waving in full force, sizeable enough that you pieced together just what—or who—guided such spontaneous magic. 

“Is that you, professor?” You say, voice hitching with captivated breath as the formless hand brushes against your cunt. Featherlight to the point where you wonder if you even felt it. 

No response, the typical verbosity of your wizard masked for effect. Part of you fizzled with fear, a tiny threat of a question in the back of your mind that asked if Gale was the one touching you or not. But you were more than familiar with the way he circled around your clit, the patterns of which he teased even though he’d swear there was no routine. After months of living with him in Waterdeep, when he’d seldom go a day without ravishing you, you found little trouble recognizing the force to be him.  

You giggle flirtatiously, head lying back against the ridge of the tub as invisible fingertips went from tickling to softly rubbing your clit. Letting your ankle lift through the steamy bubbles and hook over the edge. Opening further for him, biting your lip in sinful satisfaction as you catch the desirous sound of his shaken breath in your ear. Definitely him, drowning in the essence of your soaked up pleasure. You moan a little louder for him, a sign for this new ghost lover of yours to keep going as you climb further toward climax. 

Splashing increases around you as your lower body jolts with pleasure. Gale slides one finger inside, curling upward in the perfect way. Your skin runs red in a lusty blush as you picture what your pussy might look like as an invisible finger thrusts into it. Getting penetrated by nothing yet filled even further as he slips a second finger inside. 

Your moan is almost guttural, ferally chasing that high. You say, “Are you going to show yourself or am I gonna cum all by myself?” 

With his free hand, he snapped his fingers with a loud flick. Gale appeared behind you, resting his arm around the tub as your eyes stared upward at him. Strands of hair hanging around his face, the circles under his chestnut eyes darkened even further with incurable lust. Finished by a smirk so irresistible you’re sure you could explode just by looking at him. 

Moving his free hand to your breast, prodding at the plush flesh, he says, “I’d hardly be able to concentrate if I tried. Watching you come undone for me…I can’t think of anything else.” 

Gale smashed his lips against yours, passionate and fiery. The same pace as his thumb rubbing your clit, fingers thrusting assertively up. His other hand worked your nipple, pinching and twisting in just the right spots to get your entire midsection in tingles. Slipping his tongue into your mouth just as you let out a pleasurable yelp. Bringing you closer and closer to the edge of paradise. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, maintaining rhythm even as your body writhes in ecstasy. Your kiss slips away, mouths still hovering over each other, drinking in your air. You shudder out, “D-don’t stop…nearly there…”

His breath is hot, keeping your foreheads together. Leading you up and up that hill of no return. He growled, “Yes, good. Do it for me, do it now.” 

The crackle of his voice is enough to fully tip you over the edge. Your sex blossoms with a wet, intense orgasm that spreads throughout your lower body. Gale laughs quietly, taking in the satisfaction of finally unravelling you after so long waiting to strike with that invisibility spell. Days of thinking about the perfect time, now coming to fruition as you fall apart around his fingers. He can’t wait for the rest of the evening. 

Your body calms down, settling into the lukewarm water filled with soap lines and sweat. Gale gives you no time before he scoops both arms under you, lifting you from the tub in a bridal style carry. You giggle as you hug his shoulders, rubbing your nose against his. 

“Thank you for lifting me,” you say, “My legs are like jelly after that.” 

He chuckled, “Well, it’s the least I could do. Considering I’m about to take you to the bed and make the rest of your body—like jelly.” 

“Oh? Invisible or not?” You asked. 

As he flipped you onto the mattress and climbed over you, he said, “Why not both?”

[cillyscribbles]

initially started a ficlet, drew this to accompany it, then took 3 months to finish said ficlet. joys upon joys! ☺️

When the little ones suggested she get the best of her old dancing wardrobe and throw together the costume of a fortune teller, Cassandra had initially thought it’d be a fun spin on her usual Halloween get-up – which was, admittedly, not much more than buying a sack’s worth of candy and putting on a witch hat whenever the doorbell was rung.

In spite of feeling a little breezy in the cold October evening and swiftly abandoned by her gaggle of sworn companions, she turned out to be quite popular among the neighborhood kids. Few could – or would – resist the show she made of looking mysteriously about an old, overturned glass bowl. She was slow and deliberate in her choice of candy to present to them, and did so with an air of utmost importance, delighting in the way they would accept it as carefully as one might a glass dish.

As the sky darkened and the evening went on, the littler ones began to be drawn back inside, and she had less and less cause for her playful routine. Still, for a while, she remained, exchanging candy with some and thanking others for their compliments of her costume. Finally, once she’d received a couple comments about being too old for this from a few of those sorts of people, she figured she’d fish the last of the candy out of her bag at last and go back inside; evidently, the folks who thought they were too good for playing a little dress-up were beginning their portion of the night.

Just as she tied her bag closed, though, she lifted her head – and just there, on the edge of the pavement as though they’d risen right out of the asphalt in the street, stood two – grown adults, from what she could tell, and watched her point-blank. And as soon as she locked eyes with one of the figures, they smiled identically uneven smiles and made their way to her bench, as though her acknowledgement had been all they’d been waiting for.

As they stepped under the light of the streetlamps, Cassandra found their smiles weren’t the only thing identical about them; in fact, she found it hard to differentiate between the two at all, with only perhaps half an inch of difference in height. They were dark cats, though spotted, with their fur clipped short and rounded at points. Entirely orderly, and, as far as she could see, woefully underdressed for the occasion.

It did not impede the apparent enthusiasm she could read out in their faces. They seemed, for a reason she couldn’t be certain of, delighted.

“Do you seek the future or fortune?” A quiet, fairly low voice came from them – one of them, Cassandra realized, was a queen, and so it took her a further moment to register that she was asking a question.

She cleared her throat – and, half-to prompt them again, asked – “Beg pardon?”

“When you look into the glass, do you watch for the broad strokes of a future?” the queen asked again, and the one next to her imitated the snapping beak of a bird with two fingers.

“Or do you pick at the thread of only a single person’s path?” He was a tom, if she was to go by the voice, but both of them were a proper enigma.

She cleared her throat again – it stung, this time – and fidgeted with the bowl and the bag, trying discreetly to get a better look at them without meeting their still-peering eyes.

“Oh, I’m not sure which way I’m supposed to do it,” she admitted – they seemed odd enough for her to wonder. It would’ve been just her luck to meet a pair of genuine fortune tellers the one day in her life she was out masquerading as one. Sheepishly, she explained – “This is just a costume, I don’t really...”

“There is no wrong way to do it,” the queen interrupted, and glanced with some restrained excitement from Cassandra to the tom, whom Cassandra thought would’ve been strange to assume was anyone other than her brother.

“No such thing as a wrong way,” he seconded – and they sounded alike, too, in an uncanny, complimentary harmony.

Cassandra raised her eyebrows and looked down at the bowl she held on her legs. The bowl, which was indeed only that, did not offer any crystal ball-worthy advice for the situation. She wondered what was behind the question; what was the difference – what did it even mean?

“I suppose I’d focus,” she guessed, carefully, and looked up at them. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”

The queen only smiled wider, and, as her brother nodded his head in that strange manner people did where they may have been better off just shaking it, she said, “Oh, no, not at all.”

“On the contrary,” the tom agreed, and Cassandra hummed in what she hoped was polite listening. They certainly took it as such, and the tom gestured with fluidity as strange as the rest of them as he explained: “To crystalize meaningfully the path of a chosen individual is grueling work.”

“You must blow away the fog of uncertainty... and pick out a reflection from the puddles it leaves behind.” The queen was nodding, now, but at least she had something to nod about, Cassandra thought. The queen brushed her hand against the tom’s with some intent and added, thoughtfully – “It is thankless.”

“Agonizing,” the tom said, and they twined their hands together without so much as looking at each other.

Cassandra chuckled – she’d expected most of the things that happened throughout the evening, but this was quickly and unequivocally taking the cake. Still, she looked at them, gazing down at her with smiles brighter than the lamplight, and felt just a little embarrassed at her whip-stitched costume and her faded bowl. “Perhaps I should go with a theme I’m better-versed in, next year.”

“No, no, it wasn’t our aim to heckle you,” the queen said quickly, and glanced at her brother, whose expression had been suddenly tinged by worry at her words.

“We don’t mean to upset. We only so rarely get to discuss this.”

“Few will listen for even the time you have,” she said to Cassandra, who, at her appreciative tone and gentle expression, felt less soothed and moreso a little touched. Suddenly, though, the queen’s expression shifted – she looked as though she had remembered something, and touched the tom’s arm with some insistence. “But we have trapped you.”

“Yes, we will go along, leave you to a lovely evening,” he agreed, covering her hand with his own before they both let go as though coordinated. As she turned, though, he stayed her decisively with a hand against her stomach, and his smile widened at her curious expression; it seemed the first time, to Cassandra, that they were not so eerily in sync. “Would you consider reading my sister’s fortune, beforehand? Since you prefer it.”

Before Cassandra could remind them that she didn’t really prefer anything of the sort, and was indeed woefully inexperienced in the field they seemed so well-versed in, the queen all but gasped in quiet joy and scratched at her own chest with short-trimmed claws.

“I’d be ever so delighted to have it read; when was the last time?” She looked at the tom for confirmation. Cassandra had, without too much surprise, apparently assumed correctly in the two being siblings. “We were nine...”

“We were nine.” The tom smiled at her, very fondly, and here his expression was quickly mirrored again. Cassandra hated to disappoint them, truly, and they seemed quite sweet, but there was not much she could offer them.

“I can make something up, if you like,” she said, a little helplessly, and tapped at the sides of the bowl idly with the tips of her claws. She stopped when the sound made them both scowl, even as they refrained from saying anything about it and fixed more pleasant expressions back onto their faces before she could react. She chuckled to herself, glanced down again; she wasn’t even doing anything yet, and apparently she was already doing it wrong. “Again, I don’t know the technicalities of this.”

To her surprise, the queen nodded eagerly, and took a step closer to the bench – just one small, restless step, followed immediately by her brother. “Yes, that is, of course, a way to do it as well.”

“No false manner of doing it, none,” he assured her, and she wondered if they did any horoscope writing in their free time. Then she felt a little mean about it. “It is through unconscious association.”

“The things your mind sees before the eyes do,” the queen said, a little dreamily, and Cassandra nodded along. No, they had to have been writing horoscopes in their free time. “You don’t have to be clairvoyant.”

Something in her expression made Cassandra feel a little too perceived. She shifted to meet the tom’s eyes instead, only to find there, predictably, exactly the same sharpness to the sensation as he seconded his sister – “Simply observant.”

Everlasting – she hoped thought-reading wasn’t a part of their repertoire. She would’ve been terribly embarrassed if they were to learn from her that they sounded like the folks that wrote horoscopes.

To be fair, clairvoyant or not, bills needed paid.

“All right, well,” she said, finally, and, with one last burst of fiddling with the bowl, she lifted it from her lap and put it on the bench beside herself, looking up at where they stood expectantly. “You could show me how to do it? And then I could try myself.”

They shifted quick, and looked between each other. Cassandra tried not to crack a smile at the clear mortification that passed between them, albeit she wasn’t sure why that was.

The queen turned first, nodding as seriously as though they’d broken some untouchable rule of etiquette. “Ah – that would be most polite.”

“Yes, we overlooked our manners again,” he said, a little as though he was already used to it and so did not overthink it; he urged his sister forward gently, touching at her back. “Tantomile would read your palm.”

Tantomile, Cassandra thought. Before she could think anything else – anything other than That’s a really nice name, or, Wow, I’ve never heard that one before, Tantomile saved them both the embarrassment with the quickness of someone more than used to it – “It is my favourite. Coricopat’s is cards.”

“And dice,” Coricopat added. The name – fit him, she supposed. He looked like a Coricopat. Perhaps because neither of them looked like anyone else. Except each other, Cassandra noted. Naturally.

”And dice,” Tantomile conceded, and gestured lightly to the space beside Cassandra. “If I may sit beside you?”

“Right, yes.” She was moving out of the way before Tantomile had finished her sentence, her smile quirking up sideways as Tantomile lifted her tail to sit down. Cassandra glanced at Coricopat, and, surely enough, found his tail raised carefully as well, even as he stood still. She hummed, “I feel like you’re better suited for this spot anyway.”

”She is,” Coricopat said for her, and, when Tantomile raised her head, they looked wordlessly between themselves for a reason Cassandra could only begin to guess. They broke their gaze together, but Coricopat’s was the first to return to Cassandra, along with his smile. His sister, with no time to waste, took Cassandra by the hand. “But this is the night to play pretend. We can hardly pretend to be that which we truly are.”

”It would be silly,” Tantomile agreed, and, after casting just one exploratory glance at Cassandra’s palm, chuckled herself. Albeit Cassandra would never have known what for, Tantomile did not seem bothered by her confusion. She only idly patted her on the wrist and she glanced up for a moment before focusing on her palm again. “See – you’re a natural, Cassandra.”

She traced gently the lines in Cassandra’s skin, and Coricopat watched closely, and they treated her as carefully as they might a statue of glass. As Cassandra laughed, the wind carried away some of her inhibition – and, among other things, even the quiet, prodding thought that she had never told them her name.

[steddieas-shegoes]

saturate me, i can't get enough

rated e 4,066 words cw: please read full note below the cut in regards to terminology used in this ficlet/warnings A really big thank you/shoutout to @patchworkgargoyle for proofreading this and giving me a few great suggestions to make sure this was absolutely perfect for @steves-strapcollection's birthday! Also available on ao3.

This labor of love (and smut) is for my favorite transmasc Steve truther, Gerry. I am so grateful for your contributions to this fandom, and I am even more grateful that you welcome me into your chaos (Tig threads I'm lookin' at you 👀). While I may still not think my writing could be a gift to anyone, let alone a talented writer like you, I will just be positive that you'll enjoy this for what it is which is soft and tender fuckin'.

A VERY SERIOUS NOTE FOR EVERYONE ELSE: I am very much a cis woman. I spoke with Ger before even starting on this because I wanted to make sure he was comfortable with me even attempting to write transmasc Steve. I am using masculine and feminine terms for lower anatomy that he uses in his own fics and his own life with his express permission to do so. If you think this might be a trigger for you, please don't read. I wrote this specifically for Ger, and realize that it may not be for everyone. Taking care of yourself is the most important thing!

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If Eddie had known what exactly he was getting into when he asked Steve on a date, he probably would have done it a lot sooner.

He tugged on the silk ropes around his wrist, just tight enough to keep him in place on the bed, but still loose enough that he knew he could pull out of them if he had to.

Steve refused to tie them any tighter.

“Need you to feel safe with me, Eds,” he’d said with a soft kiss to his lips.

As if he could feel anything other than safe with him. As if he hadn’t spent the last five or so months falling in love with him, learning what makes Steve Steve, figuring out how he could fit in Steve’s life.

Somehow, Eddie ended up naked first, tied up in his own bed, breaths heavy with anticipation of what was to come.

And he had very little idea of what was to come.

He’d already been surprised at how quickly Steve took charge of their date, their first kiss, the torturous ride back to Eddie’s apartment where Steve’s hand just brushed against his cock every minute or so.

Now, he was at Steve’s mercy entirely.

Just the thought of Steve leaving him like this while he touched, and kissed, and bit every part of his body was enough to have him leaking.

“Can’t believe how good you look like this,” Steve groaned from his spot between Eddie’s legs.

Oh, his shirt was off.

Finally.

Eddie whined as he saw Steve’s one and only tattoo, a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it, on his left side just under the scar from his top surgery.

He wanted to trace the outline with his tongue, maybe mark it up so that it wasn’t just black ink, cover him in purples and blues that would take days to heal.

But he wouldn’t be able to do that now, not with his hands tied above his head and his legs spread wide enough that he couldn’t get leverage to pull himself up or Steve down.

Next time.

“Steve, please,” Eddie begged, though he wasn’t sure what he was begging for at this point other than touch.

“Sorry, baby. You’re just so distracting.”

Eddie knew he was blushing, could feel the heat on his face and neck, on his chest.

His hands were sweaty where he had them clenched into fists, somehow already overwhelmed before even being properly touched.

Steve’s fingers glided across his chest, pausing to pay attention to his only nipple, laughing to himself when Eddie jumped.

“Sensitive? Maybe this one got all the nerves from the other one being gone,” Steve smirked as he leaned down to flick his tongue over the soft, pink flesh of his one remaining nipple.

It was like an electric shock, a fire burning through his veins and Steve’s tongue was the match that lit it.

He arched his back, chasing the feeling as far as he physically could, pouting when Steve pulled away.

“Hey,” Steve touched his cheek, smiling when Eddie relaxed into the touch. “I know we’re moving fast, but I kinda wanna take my time with you. Is that okay?”

Eddie nodded, thankful that Steve said it first.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of going as far as they could as fast as they could, not at all. Eddie would be happy with anything.

But taking their time?

He would take all night.

“Wanted this for so long, baby. You have no idea,” Steve whispered, breath hot against his lips as he leaned back in.

“Me too,” Eddie’s voice trembled.

Steve’s palm settled against his chest, no doubt feeling how hard and fast Eddie’s heart was beating, but not saying anything about it.

Eddie could feel his pulse in his fingertips, in his toes, in his hair.

“You like being tied up?”

Eddie nodded, biting his bottom lip between his teeth and letting his mind drift to thoughts of being like this hours.

“You want me to do what I want? Not let you pick?”

Eddie didn’t even care about his teasing tone, his knowing smirk.

He wasn’t asking for an answer, he was asking for control, and he already had both.

“I think you want me to take over, ride your face maybe? And then your cock?”

Steve was spot on.

Eddie couldn’t count the amount of times he’d pictured that exact scenario in his head. Just last night, while he was cooking dinner, he thought about the way Steve would taste, how he would look while Eddie took him apart with his tongue, his fingers.

He hadn’t even gotten to picture his cock inside him when the fire alarm started beeping to let him know he was burning his supper.

“Yeah, that’s what you want. Don’t even have to say it, I can see it all over your face,” Steve teased.

He could only imagine.

Steve got off the bed, shushing Eddie’s whines with a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Just getting everything else off, Eds.”

It was said to calm him down, but it just caused him to cant his hips upwards, seeking any type of friction on his leaking cock.

Steve’s eyes never left him as he stripped his jeans and boxers off in one fell swoop, his feet stepping out of the pant legs as quickly as he could without tripping.

He joined him on the bed again, settling between his legs and staring down at him, eyes holding so much affection that Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with it, where to put it all.

When they made eye contact, Steve smiled softly down at him.

“You okay with this?” He asked, wanting to be sure before they got too carried away.

“More than okay,” Eddie nodded. “Wanna taste you so bad, Stevie.”

“I can make that happen.”

Steve untied one of his hands from the bedframe, but didn’t let it touch any part of him yet.

“This is only so you can tap out if you need to. You’re not allowed to touch anywhere except my leg. Three taps if you need to stop, okay?” Eddie nodded. “Show me.”

Eddie waited for Steve to climb up a bit, straddle his chest, the warmth between his legs enough to make him forget for a moment what he was supposed to be doing.

“Eddie. Show me,” Steve’s voice was stern enough to grab his attention again, and Eddie focused on making his shaking hand tap his thigh three times. “Good boy. You can keep your hand there if it’ll help you remember, but no moving unless it’s to tap.”

Eddie’s head felt cloudy already, something he so rarely experienced with anyone, something he hoped he’d get to keep experiencing with Steve from now on.

Steve shifted back down for long enough to leave a kiss on Eddie’s lips, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as he let out a laugh.

“I can feel your heartbeat between my thighs. A bit excited, aren’t you?” Steve teased him again, but Eddie wasn’t complaining. If anything, it just made his heartbeat louder with anticipation at what he was about to get.

“Need you,” Eddie managed to say.

Steve didn’t wait any longer, scooting his body up so his pussy was level with Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie groaned, lifted his head an inch so he could be even closer.

He needed it, needed him. He couldn’t wait any longer to get a taste.

Eddie’s tongue lapped at Steve’s hole, the only part he could reach at the moment, but it was enough.

Steve let out a long moan, gravelly voice letting out a long “yes” as he rocked his hips forward to get Eddie’s tongue inside.

Eddie closed his eyes and let himself be surrounded by Steve.

His slightly musky smell, the sweat that was rolling down his thighs, the surprisingly sweet slick dripping from his pussy, all of it was better than Eddie could have possibly imagined.

The noises got louder as Steve adjusted himself directly over Eddie’s face.

He pulled away just enough for Eddie to catch his breath, but Eddie didn’t want to catch his breath.

“Need your cock, please,” Eddie begged, not caring if he was breaking an unspoken rule, not caring if he suffocated for it.

But he didn’t get in trouble. In fact, he got exactly what he wanted when Steve settled back down, his dick rubbing against Eddie lips in silent instruction.

Eddie opened his mouth wide, stuck out his tongue, and moaned.

“God you’re so good,” Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand on his thigh, squeezing as he rocked back and forth, taking things slower than Eddie expected him to.

Eddie whimpered, letting out what little breath he had as Steve rested more of his weight on his tongue.

“You made me so wet just laying there, all tied up for me, hng,” Steve groaned.

The hand squeezing Eddie’s moved to the headboard, giving Steve just a bit more leverage to bear down and chase his own release on Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie could feel his fingernails digging into Steve’s thighs, but he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop unless Steve made him.

He could feel slick and drool dripping down his chin, his cheeks, his neck, probably making a mess of his hair and the pillow under him, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Steve was making low groaning noises now, his pace getting faster every few thrusts back and forth.

Eddie opened his eyes, wanting to try to see what Steve looked like from this angle.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Steve’s head was thrown back, his arm muscles straining as he held onto the bed, leg muscles and stomach tensing as his pleasure started to crest.

The flush that Eddie had barely gotten to enjoy before was now covering his hairy chest and his neck, a few drops of sweat dripping to his stomach.

Eddie hoped he could lick them up after Steve came.

Steve let out a loud whine and one of his hands fell to Eddie’s hair, his fingers tugging at his roots in a way that reminded him he had no control over any of this.

Eddie decided to take matters into his own hands the best that he could, curling his tongue into a sharper point so that on the next thrust, Steve’s dick was given more pointed pressure.

“Fuck!” Steve yelled out. He looked down at Eddie, hair flopping into his face. “You wanna suck it, baby? You can if you want.”

He sounded so close, breathlessly framing his own wants as something Eddie wanted. And Eddie did want those things.

He was starting to realize he wanted everything with Steve.

It should have been a scary thought, especially when this was just the ending of their first date, but instead of worrying about it, Eddie used all the energy and muscle he could to lift his head up and start to suck on his dick.

“That’s it,” Steve panted, holding Eddie’s head against him, not giving him a chance to move away again. “You’re so good, baby. Gonna make me cum so hard, fuck.”

Eddie started to nod, and the extra movement seemed to set Steve off.

He felt Steve’s thighs clench, then loosen, then clench again, his hand tightening in Eddie’s hair, and a long moan left his body.

Eddie moaned too, and the vibration sent Steve over the edge.

Steve slowed his pace, but didn’t get up, letting Eddie slowly lick along his folds, gathering up the slick dripping out of him.

When Eddie’s tongue brushed over his cock again, he flinched, but let out a huff of a laugh.

“Sorry, baby, you got me so oversensitive already. You’re too good at that,” Steve said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Good at what? Being used?” Eddie managed to ask, voice hoarse.

Steve looked down at him as he moved down to settle against his stomach instead.

“Good at being good for me,” he finally said, seriousness ruined by the hint of fondness in his tone and smile.

“Always wanna be good for you, Stevie,” Eddie admitted.

Steve looked at him for a moment, searched his face for any sign of him lying or being too sex-drunk to be realistic.

But whatever was on Eddie’s face must have shown him that he was serious.

“Yeah, baby. I think you could be,” Steve leaned down to kiss him, licking into his mouth like he wanted to taste himself on Eddie’s lips and tongue, like he wanted to know what they tasted like together.

Eddie felt his cock pulse, felt the tug in his stomach that let him know he was probably much closer than he should be just from eating Steve out for five minutes.

He didn’t have time to be embarrassed though; Steve was moving down his body further, reaching a hand back to touch his cock.

“Wait!” Eddie leaned his head away.

Steve pulled his hand away and looked at him, frowning as he took in the panicked look on Eddie’s face.

“I just, um, I’m close. Like, pretty sure if you touch me, I will cum all over your hand and probably never be able to look you in the eyes again.”

Steve snorted out a laugh.

“What’s wrong with that?” Steve asked, slowly tracing his fingers across Eddie’s waistline, not even looking as he got closer to his cock.

“I…I don’t know?” Eddie admitted.

And truly, he had no idea why he shouldn’t cum. That was the goal of this, and Steve was making it pretty clear he didn’t mind if he did, might even prefer if he did.

The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want any of this to end.

“Eds, you’ve been so good for me, I kinda want you to feel good, too. Unless you really don’t want to-”

“No! I do!” Eddie ignored the way Steve was trying to cover his laughter. “I just thought you wanted to ride me.”

“Ohhhh. I see. You’re being selfish.”

Eddie’s mouth snapped shut, teeth audibly clacking together.

No one had ever called him selfish in bed, not even jokingly.

But Steve’s tone wasn’t joking. His face wasn’t joking.

“I guess you think I don’t wanna see you squirming because I’m wringing the third orgasm from you in less than an hour? Is that it?”

“Uh…”

Steve clicked his tongue.

“I planned on you begging to stop soon enough. Unless you want to stop now? Seems like it might be hard to go to sleep like that, though.”

Steve’s brow raised as he glanced behind him for a moment at Eddie’s red and dripping cock, then looked back at Eddie.

“No, please don’t stop. I…can I be inside you?” Eddie was desperate, and didn’t care if he sounded like it.

“You wanna cum inside me? Fill me up good, make sure I feel who I belong to?” Steve asked as he slowly moved back further, his hand firmly grasping the base of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie whined, bucking his hips up, but not making the contact he needed.

“You can if you promise to clean me up after,” Steve’s hand slid up Eddie’s dick slowly, the pressure not nearly enough to satisfy him, but enough to make him whine.

“I promise. Please,” Eddie nodded, his one free hand making a fist in the sheets while his still tied up hand tugged on the binds.

Steve didn’t respond with words, just sat back and guided Eddie’s cock along the inner lips of his cunt, moaning at the sensation.

“So warm,” Eddie groaned.

“Gonna get me all wet again, baby,” Steve rocked his hips slowly, teasing the tip along his folds and against his entrance. “You’re leaking worse than I am.”

Which may be true at this point. Eddie had spent enough time licking up as much of his mess as possible.

Steve sat down on his cock with no warning.

He hissed, clenching his fists and curling his toes to fight off the impending orgasm.

Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the way Steve’s pussy sucked him in, clenching around him in a way that left him shivering and panting.

“Good?” Steve asked, smug grin the only thing keeping Eddie from losing it completely.

“Yes, yeah, so good, fuck,” Eddie threw his head back, arching his back as Steve slowly lifted himself up and dropped back down.

Fuck, Eddie wasn’t gonna be able to hold off. He’d just have to live with the embarrassment.

Steve reached up to untie his hand, grabbing his wrist and massaging it in his own hands as he moved his hips in circles.

“Wait, you didn’t-”

“Yeah, I did.”

“When?” Eddie knew his brain hadn’t been working for a while now, but he was certain his eyes had been. Steve hadn’t stretched himself on his fingers this entire time, and going from just Eddie’s tongue barely breaching his entrance to suddenly sitting on his cock, no matter how wet he was, had to be at least a little painful.

“Bathroom when we got home,” Steve shrugged.

Steve had been fingering himself in the bathroom not even an hour ago. Without Eddie. Without even making a noise.

God, Eddie was so fucked. Literally.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asked, smug grin back in place as he guided Eddie’s hands to his own hips. “Think you can do this part or do I have to do everything?”

Eddie gripped his hips, hoping his fingers would leave bruises, and let himself have this. It may only last for another minute, but he was going to make it worth every second.

He lifted Steve up, then dropped him down, smirking at the loud yelp Steve let out.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard later, this is just a preview,” Eddie growled out.

“Promise?” Steve gasped as Eddie shoved his hips up as he pulled Steve down.

“Swear. Every night you want me to from now on, Stevie,” Eddie slowed his thrusting, felt the tension building in his abdomen.

Steve groaned as he placed his hands on Eddie’s chest and started lifting his hips up on his own, clenching as he moved up Eddie’s cock.

He quickened his pace, little whimpers leaving him every time his ass met Eddie’s thighs.

“You feel so good, Stevie, gonna cum,” Eddie whined as his thighs clenched.

“Yes, yes, please. You’ve been so good, Eds,” Steve nodded, not pausing for a second.

Eddie’s eyes closed without his permission, Steve’s words hitting him right in the chest, making his breath leave him in one long, drawn-out moan.

Steve didn’t slow down, lacing his fingers with Eddie’s and pushing them backwards onto the sheets as he rode Eddie through his orgasm.

“Kiss me, please,” Eddie begged, opening his eyes to look up at Steve’s flushed face. Sweat was beading along his hairline, bangs flopping into his eyes.

Steve’s lips hovered over Eddie’s, not quite making contact, but close enough for their breaths to mingle together, for the small whimpers Eddie was unintentionally letting out to be swallowed by Steve’s hungry tongue as it grazed against his own.

Eddie was coherent enough to pull one of his hands loose, reaching up to cup Steve’s jaw as he chased his second orgasm of the night.

“Can I?” Eddie asked, moving his hand down his neck, tracing a finger along his collarbone. He looked up at Steve’s wide eyes, felt his pace slow to a stop.

“Can you…?” Steve asked, breathless as he tried to figure out what Eddie was trying to ask him.

“Can I touch your cock? Want you to come on mine.”

Eddie felt Steve clench around him, his cock almost over sensitive enough for it to be painful.

“Yeah, I’m close,” Steve admitted, pulling his other hand away to sit back so Eddie had easier access to his dick.

He was dripping, and Eddie’s cum was leaking from his hole now that he’d stopped moving and Eddie was starting to get soft.

Eddie’s fingers gathered up as much as they could, gliding down to where his cock was still inside him and away a few times, just to tease.

“Eddie…”

“Sorry, sorry. Just like touching you,” Eddie smiled up at him, at the way Steve’s back was arched, at the way his thighs were trembling with the effort of holding himself up.

Steve grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to his dick, impatience finally taking over.

“I like you touching me too, but if I don’t get to come again soon, you won’t touch me again for the rest of the night,” Steve snarked.

Eddie loved him.

He didn’t hesitate to curl his fingers so his knuckles rested against the sides of his dick, still teasing, but at least where Steve wanted it now. He didn’t move for a moment, wanted Steve to be desperate enough to rock forward.

“Eddie, please,” Steve whined.

“Look who’s begging now,” Eddie teased. “You’re so hard, sweetheart. Should’ve told me you were this close earlier. Would’ve taken care of you.”

Steve whimpered, shaking his head as Eddie’s knuckles started dragging up and down his dick.

Watching Steve fall apart above him like this, making him fall apart, especially when he’d been the one in control all night, was making Eddie feel unstoppable.

This was all he ever wanted: making Steve feel good in any way Steve wanted or needed.

Eddie started jerking his fingers faster, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuuuuuck,” Steve groaned, shifting his hips up for more pressure, for anything else he could possibly get.

“That’s it, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good. Wanna be good for you.”

And just like Steve’s words had done for Eddie before, Eddie’s must have been the final straw for Steve.

Steve’s thighs shook as he came, his fingers digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he fell forward, trapping his hand against his pulsing dick.

“Hmm,” Steve moaned out as his grasp loosened, leaving half-moons in Eddie’s skin.

Eddie knew he would be hard again soon. At this rate, he wouldn’t be surprised if he got hard while still inside Steve.

But Steve’s eyes opened, and Eddie somehow fell further.

“I don’t wanna stop,” Steve whispered, leaning in to kiss along his jawline, letting his teeth gently brush against his chin before pecking his lips.

“I’ve got perfectly good fingers. Or…” Eddie leaned up to kiss him, smirking when he felt Steve grind against him. “You could also fuck me.”

Steve’s responding groan was muffled by Eddie’s chest, a laugh immediately following.

“As much as I would love to, and will as soon as I have energy, I was thinking maybe we could just…stay like this?” Steve looked up towards the end, a pink blush coating his cheeks unlike anything Eddie had ever seen on him before.

Steve didn’t get embarrassed or nervous, he didn’t get flustered, at least not where others could see him.

He was Mr. Charming, the smoothest guy around, the one who always knew how to respond in a flirty situation.

But right now, all Eddie saw was vulnerability, his eyes mirroring back the love Eddie felt but hadn’t put into words.

“Like this or on our sides?” Eddie whispered, not wanting the moment to be broken.

“Like this for now.”

Eddie gave a single nod, not mentioning that they should probably clean up a little, or the fact that Robin would be home soon and the bedroom door was wide open.

Steve kissed his chest before he settled with his head in the crook of his neck, breath hot against Eddie’s pulse point.

Eddie’s cock was hard again inside Steve, but both of them ignored it, savoring the feeling of finally having each other.

Steve was asleep quickly, and Eddie let his mind wander as he traced his fingers up and down Steve’s back.

This first date felt a lot like the beginning of a long future.

–

When Eddie woke up the next morning, his cock was in Steve’s mouth, and Steve already had two fingers in his hole, lube slowly dripping between his cheeks.

“What a way to wake up,” Eddie moaned.

Steve pulled off of him, already smirking, lips red and glistening with spit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Stevie. Keep going,” Eddie’s voice was rough from sleep.

“You got it, baby.”

[thewatercolours]

King's Quest Ficlet: "At a Standstill" (Collab with GerbilofTriumph)

Not too long ago, @gerbiloftriumph had a really cool idea for a collab, and we buddied up to brainstorm a story with yet more fun for the goblin and woes for our favourite king (she came up with most of the good stuff. ;-) Once the initial ideas were in place, I turned them into a bullet point story, and she created an illustration which you’ll be able to find on her blog! Go check it out! I'll never stop praising Gerbil's amazing triple threat creative powers to the skies (an incredibly engaging writer, a wonderful visual artist, and magic powers at inspiring creativity in others.) It was great fun working together on this together, my friend! And now, without further ado, the ficlet.

---

(Daventry castle) 

Grandpa has a terrible sore throat and a hacking cough. He’s driving the royal physicians up the wall with how poorly he sticks to their advice. They tell him he must be quiet and go easy on his lungs - he must rest his voice. So of course he talks twice as much as normal. 

Valanice shakes her head fondly and suggests Gwendolyn help him pass the time with stories. But just this once, he’ll be the one to listen, not tell. She hands her granddaughter a grand leather tome with a slick blue ribbon and a cover cracking about the edges. It was recently sent as a peace offering from the goblin realm. Naturally, it’s a volume of old fairy tales.

Grandpa settles in as Gwendolyn reads aloud through a handful of familiar ones - ���Rapunzel,” “Little Red Riding Hood,” and so on. It is indeed a soothing way to pass the time, and Grandpa soon starts nodding off. Gwendolyn smiles smugly that the scheme to get him to rest quietly is working, and decides to read on just a little further to ensure he’s sound asleep by the time she leaves. 

She turns the page to a fairytale she’s never heard of - “Jorinda and Joringel.” She reads it softly, almost under her breath.

“Once upon a time, two young lovers, Jorinda and Joringel, stumbled upon a castle deep in the forest. What they did not know was that the castle belonged to a witch of fearful power, who did not take kindly to being disturbed. In her fury, she laid curses on each of them. Poor Joringel was enchanted to stand still as a statue. He could only watch as the witch turned his beloved Jorinda into a nightingale and carried her off to a cage in the castle, to be her pet and sing for her. Joringel couldn’t lift a finger to help her until the witch finally tapped him with her wand. With many terrible threats, she warned him to never return. Now -”

“What? Graham interrupts, cracking an eye open. “Tapped him with her wand?”

“Grandpa! Remember what the doctor said. Now, Joringel had heard of a certain beautiful rose that could break spells with a single touch of its petals, so he journeyed far to fetch it from - ”

Grandpa comes wide awake and slams his hands down on the quilt. “SO THAT’S WHAT THEY WERE DOING!” he cries hoarsely. “THEY WERE TRYING TO GET ME TO STAND STILL! The slime - the ropes - it all makes sense now!” He is absolutely gobsmacked, and going back and forth between slapping his forehead in frustration and chuckling. “If only I had known! I thought I knew every old story in the book! Is this an actual fairytale?”

It seems this tale has provided Grandpa with a missing piece, making sense of something that happened to him in his youth, while he and his friends were captives of the goblins. And you can practically see the excitement levels rising in his eyes - if he weren’t old and sick, Gwendolyn has no doubt he’d be jumping off the walls in another two seconds.

He can’t do that, but of course he can tell his granddaughter the whole story. She tells him off, grinning. “Grandpa, that’s exactly the opposite of keeping your voice quiet!”

But when has anyone ever been able to stop an excited Graham? The purple mists of the mirror part, and the memory begins shining over the glass

(Goblin caves)

Young Graham discovers the glowing garden amongst the upper passages of the goblin prison. He is struck by the carefully tended beauty. It seems strange to him that the goblins, so violent and instinct-driven, and clueless to the fact their prisoners are starving, could cultivate something like this garden. But never mind that. He’s got people to save. And look! Roses! Just what the Hobblepots need him to fetch for their recipe! He plucks one, but gets distracted by a noise deeper into the garden. He decides to investigate.

There he sees a group of goblins setting up for their next fairytale, fiddling with hastily stitched costumes and clumsy props. One goblin is trying to get a little clockwork nightingale to work,  but is having some trouble with the mechanism. 

They spot Graham, and go crazy with joy when they see he has a rose in his hand. They shove him into the middle of their staging area and begin acting. One goblin in a tattered but sparkly gown grabs his hand and strolls with him, laying its hand on its heart and sighing exaggeratedly.

Graham has no idea what story this is. He makes some lame, vague guesses, but no good. “Um, okay. So, you’re definitely in love with me. That’s a thing. Am I… the prince in ‘The Little Mermaid?’ Maybe ‘Sleeping Beauty?’ You, because, love? I guess? Um… ‘Three Little Kittens Who Lost Their Mittens?’ No, no.”

 When the witch goblin arrives in its jaunty pointed hat and waves its hands around ‘mystically” and tosses some handfuls of glitter powder,’ all the goblins turn to Graham expectantly, anticipating he’ll go along with freezing into a statue by standing still.But Graham, of course, has no idea what they want. Everyone’s looking at him, clearly needing him to do something. So naturally, he moves - waves his arms, strikes a pose. And they get frustrated with him. They smack him to make him smarten up and get with the program, but of course this communicates nothing to him. A couple try grabbing him, to force him to stand still, but Graham’s already a bit wary of goblins grabbing him, and takes off, full tilt.

He manages to evade them, ducking through the brush and shining mushrooms, and slips out of the garden door when everyone’s safely off searching for him at another end of the garden. He makes his way to the Hobblepots, and triumphantly produces the rose from his cloak. But alas, the rose has already wilted. Who knew it would be so delicate? He’ll need to fetch a fresh one. 

Hoping to avoid the goblins, Graham mentally plans everything else he can do toward saving his friends in the meantime. The next rose can be the last item on his to-do list, and hopefully the goblins will have cleared out from the garden by then.

A few hours later, Graham creeps warily through the door. He scopes out the garden, but all seems clear, besides the little tinkering goblin, still working on the nightingale. But he’s just kind of doing his own thing, and barely seems to notice Graham. So far, so good. Graham nabs a rose and heads out. 

But, surprise - the goblin troupe are coming in the door just as he’s coming out! They’re overjoyed to see him again! Whoops and rejoicing! They confiscate the rose and carry him off on their shoulders to another part of the caves, where they’ve set up a whole scene with clumsy props and a crude castle backdrop. The play begins all over again, with much hand squeezing and kissy sounds. But Graham’s eyes are drawn upward to a weird conglomeration of ropes hanging from the ceiling, full of strange knots and loops. And just a foot away, directly in the path his lover girl is leading him, is something that looks suspiciously like a tripwire.

He makes every attempt to avoid it - “No, no, I insist. You go first, my lady! No, ok. Well then, I’ll just step very carefully over this, um, hunter’s trap…”

The goblin kicks him in the back of the knee. The wire is tripped. Goblins cheer! Ropes descend! Limbs are snagged! Flying lines crisscross and snag and pull his arms and legs tightly in place. If he doesn’t shake free immediately, he won’t be able to move and inch.

With some reckless shimmy, diving, and use of the chopsticks (who knew?) he manages to get free. With every movement, the goblins became more frustrated and frenzied, as they try wildly to trap him again. A wild chase ensues (cue the soundtrack!) at first resembling an obstacle course, as Graham skids limbo-style beneath descending ropes, does an entire double dutch skipping rope routine, and of course there’s a grand finale that resembles nothing so much as trapeze and tightrope walking. 

Graham ends up climbing one of the ropes and finding himself in a little crevice in the ceiling just big enough for him. He unfastens the rope from its stalactite so the goblins can’t follow him up, but immediately regrets it. How is he going to get down now? 

The goblins throw a tantrum and shake their fists, and one stomps Graham’s rose with its stone boot. Once they’ve worn themselves out, they sit down. At first Graham fears they mean to wait him out, but they are distracted by the sound of a gong off in the distance. They dash away. 

Possibly a dinner gong, Graham reflects sadly, thinking about his friends, starving in their cages. The thought puts new resolution into him. He can’t possibly stay up here. He has to get down, and soon, before the prisoners lose even more strength. And, you know, before the goblins think to come back with a ladder or something.

But what on earth is he supposed to do? He’s a fair distance up, and simply jumping would almost certainly mean a broken back or neck. None of the stalactites hang very far down, so sliding down one wouldn’t help lessen the fall enough to matter. Has he got anything in his pockets he can use? He rifles through them, but nothing comes to hand that could be useful.

But slowly, a reckless plan forms in his mind. He only discovered recently that he can fit an entire person in one of his pockets, and that the cloak moves just the same when someone is inside it. Would it be crazy to scoop himself into his pocket, and let the cloak flutter to the ground? After all, fabric lands lightly. But would he? He has no clear grasp of the physics of these pockets, and it’s very possible that this would be just as bad as ordinary free fall. But he hasn’t got a better idea, so he grits his teeth, leaps, and sweeps himself up into the cloak as he falls.

The impact is no worse than when you think there is one more step on the staircase, but it turns out there isn’t, and your foot just lands awkwardly heavily. Graham breathes again, crawls out of his pocket, and sets to planning.

What is he going to do? He needs that rose. He could wait till tomorrow, but every day is so, so precious. He decides to hide near the garden door among some tall rocks. There he can stake the doorway out to be well and truly sure there are no goblins about. 

A couple of minutes in, the garden door creaks open, and the goblins shamble out and head further up the passage. He ducks low to be certain they don’t see him. Once they’re out of sight, Graham gives it a good twenty minutes to be sure they’re not coming back, and stands up - only to hear gasps and shrill gibberish behind him. 

He wheels round to discover that the goblins must have circled round to this chamber by another entrance. They have set up a stakeout only fifteen feet behind him, among the other tall rocks. They were watching for him, but couldn’t see him because he was hunkered down.

He sprints for all he’s worth. They pursue, and this time with a frightening new trick up their sleeves. Goblins with buckets of foul-smelling slime take aim at him. One splash of slime coats his foot, sticking him to the floor and hardening rapidly. He tries to yank his boot free, but it’s stuck as firmly as if the very rock of the ground had grown up round it.  He manages to swivel his foot out of his boot and run for it, running off half-shod, knowing what a disaster it will be if he gets coated in the slime anywhere else on his body.

He ends up running a complete circle, and dashes into the glowing garden, slamming the door behind him and barring it with the sword frying-pan. He has his doubts about how well it will hold, but what else is he supposed to…

He’s not alone.There’s someone else in here. 

Oh no. Of course. The tinkering goblin with the nightingale.

But It hardly pays him any attention. It’s struggling frantically with the mechanism. It’s become more and more agitated because it just can’t get the clockwork going. With a snarl of frustration, it hurls the nightingale against the rockface wall. It smashes to pieces. The horrified goblin throws its hands in the air, and falls to its knees among the springs and screws. Choking back a sob, it grabs for the nightingale’s head and wings, and turns them round and round. It falls silent, then begins blubbering and snuffling, pressing the pieces to its heart. Afraid of alarming the creature, Graham closes the gap between them slowly. The distraught goblin barely seems to notice. By now it’s rocking back and forth, snuffling wetly and cradling the broken toy close.

Graham kneels, and holds out his open hands. 

The goblin stops. It slowly raises its head to look at him. Then it stares back down at the nightingale, and back to him. Graham nods. The goblin swallows back its tears, and with trembling fingers lays the pieces in Graham’s hands.

It’s not actually so difficult to fix. Graham used to like to fiddle with clockwork toys when he was a boy, taking them apart and putting them back together. Or maybe it’s easier with human fingers. Whatever the case, it doesn’t take long for Graham to get it properly working. The little goblin was so close to a breakthrough. 

But it’s a very different kind of clockwork than Graham has seen before - like someone invented clockwork separately and it developed along a different track. And just from the look of it, Graham surmises that this toy was not stolen from the upper world. This is very clever goblin work. And strangely beautiful. How can something crafted by these little kidnapping monsters be beautiful?

He winds it up, and it sings.

He’s surprised by how sweet it is in its own way, and what craftsmanship went into it, and how he hadn’t really given the goblins credit for being able to make something so lovely. And yet, isn’t that what he was thinking about earlier, when he first saw the garden? Their love of stories led them to cultivate a beautiful fairytale garden. To build a theatre full of cheer. To invent a shining full moon underground. To fashion glass slippers and clever spinning wheels and magic tricks just to delight everyone. And as messed up as this whole situation is, there’s something endearing about it. Maybe more than endearing. Maybe it is beautiful.

Graham’s realizing  in a way he hadn’t before how important these tales really are to the goblins. How their love of fairy tales causes a lot of trouble, and man, does he know it. But most of it is harmless, and now and then, just now and then - it’s something really good. This goblin doesn’t want to hurt him. They can’t speak each other’s language, but they got through to each other through this shared moment.

The power of story - of making something fascinating and beautiful just out of what you have available - connection in the strangest of circumstances. Maybe - maybe this approach is something he can use?

Suddenly something lightly taps him. A wand. Held in the fist of one of the goblin crowd. He was so lost in thought he didn’t notice them coming in by the same back way through which they carried him to the “ropes course.” All the goblins cheer as he spins around at the touch of the wand! And now they are more than glad for him to have the rose - one even hands a new rose to him gallantly. 

He walks as slowly as he can out of the garden to take the rose to the Hobblepots, wondering what on earth even happened just now that they were so nice this time. But he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s only a matter of time, of course, before the goblins come up with some new shenanigan to torment him, but for now, he’s got what he came for, and he…

(Daventry Castle)

Grandpa finally loses his voice completely, and has to give up on the last details of the story. Gwendolyn teases him, and they watch the final moments of the story playing out silently in the mirror, as young Graham wanders off into the gloom of the tunnels, rose in hand. 

Gwendolyn reads the last lines of the fairytale aloud. “With the flower to help Joringel, the witch’s magic could not hold. The curse was lifted, and he freed not only Jorinda, but all the other captives the witch held in her power. They made their way far from the darkness of the castle, and stepped gladly back into the light.”

“Good night, Grandpa. I hope you have a nice, quiet rest.”

[lipzlipzlipz]

Coping

After the second task, Fleur wanted someone to blame, knowing full well who really deserved her ire.

765 words, rated G

Takes place in the same world as my fic Tender Is The Night which you can read here on ao3. I’m not totally sure but I don’t think I’ll be adding this ficlet to ao3 so it’ll just live here for now.

For the Ladies of HP Fest Monthly Mini: 1 Feb 2024 - Fleur Delacour @ladiesofhpfest

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“This is outrageous and an affront. I demand to file a formal complaint against whoever is responsible,” said Fleur upon bursting through the door of Olympe Maxime’s office in the Beauxbatons carriage. It had taken time to make sure Gabrielle was cleaned, fed, and napping in her room, but once she was convinced of her sister’s warmth and safety she’d marched straight towards the office.

From her chair behind her desk, Maxime watched for a few moments as Fleur furiously paced back and forth, then said, “Calm yourself, Fleur. You should’ve known the song wasn’t meant to be taken literally once you realized what was stolen from the champions were actually people. You should’ve known Gabrielle wasn’t in any danger.”

“How? How could I have known that?” Fleur asked, coming to a stop and glaring at the older woman. “People have died in this tournament. No matter what protections they used today, the risks for the hostages – for any of us – have never been zero.”

Was she the only one who knew this? How could anyone think this was acceptable?

“Gabrielle is not old enough to have consented,” argued Fleur. “It’s also clear my parents were not told the full extent of her requested involvement because they certainly would not have given their permission either. And why her, for that matter? The other champions had friends, a couple of Yule Ball companions – Gabrielle is my blood! The only one brought in from outside the school.”

It wasn’t fair. Granted, the other champions had undoubtedly been unnerved at the thought of their friends under threat, each of them having to cope with that turmoil as they braved the task. But what was taken from her had been her family. If her dalliance with Hermione Granger were known and she’d been selected instead, Fleur was certain she would’ve been less rattled by it. While the girl’s participation as Krum’s hostage still filled the young Veela with an odd mix of fear, concern, and jealousy, Hermione was fifteen and a capable witch, and Fleur would’ve been on more equal footing with the other champions in her search for her.

Now that she thought about it, another thing the hostages had in common was that neither of them was of age. It was absolutely barbaric that the age limit put on champions had not been a limit for their hostages as well. And Gabrielle wasn’t even in school yet. Her little sister… immobilized and tied down under that horrible lake. The thought sent a frightening chill down her spine.

“Whose idea was it to choose her? Was it yours?”

“Of course not,” replied Maxime in a placating tone. “The organizers and headmasters consulted together. I suggested your friends Odette and Paolo, even the boy you took to the Yule Ball since it was apparent that’s where they were leaning for Krum and Diggory. It was Mr. Crouch who’d sent a message through his subordinate to suggest your sister… hm… in hindsight, the note was curiously adamant about it.”

Her eyes narrowed. Fleur didn’t like Crouch. It hadn’t bothered her that he’d skipped the Yule Ball and the second task. But now she wanted him here so she could give him a piece of her mind.

“But regardless of Mr. Crouch’s motives,” continued Maxime pointedly, “you as a fully-grown witch and champion of Beauxbatons were expected to maintain your composure no matter who was chosen. You faced the same obstacles in the lake as the others.”

Fleur frowned and clenched her fists. Unsaid, yet loud and clear, were the criticisms at her performance against the grindylows, creatures a fourteen-year-old boy had bested, and she felt those criticisms as if they were lashings across her back.

Not wanting to let Maxime see how she’d been cut, she stormed out of the office. Only when she reached her bedroom did her face fall and her shoulders sag. Fleur opened the door and silently entered her room, collapsing onto a chair facing her still-sleeping sister.

The innocent girl who idolized her would never cast blame. Neither would Hermione. And later, Fleur would seek out the brunette and take comfort in her arms, but right now she wanted to wallow in the painful truth of her shortcomings.

The issues of fairness in the tournament didn’t matter. What mattered was her.

Her wits and skills. Her ability to overcome her emotions and accomplish her task.

Which she hadn’t.

In the end, when challenged with the belief that someone she loved was in danger… Fleur Delacour had failed.

And she would never forgive herself for it.

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Note: I didn’t originally plan to contribute to this fest but then yesterday I had an idea of how this conversation between Fleur and Maxime could’ve gone, taking inspiration from Tender and how I kept her canon tournament performance, and I typed this up.

Thanks for reading!

[meimi-haneoka]

Willow - Akiho/Kaito ficlet

Oooooh I'm back with another sappy moment between Akiho and Kaito!!

A little story I thought up while I was drawing my latest fanart.

In fact, this ficlet is an accompanying piece of my illustration that you can check out here. This is the first time I do something like this and if it's interesting, I might do it more in the future.

The title comes from Taylor Swift's "Willow", because I was listening to this song a lot when chapter 80 was released, and I had the first idea for this fanart.

Akiho here is 19, and she's by now in a relationship with Kaito.

They reached a point where they basically look the same age (like in my fanart) and still haven't found the spells they are looking for.

There's some "steamy" atmosphere between them, but....well, I'll leave it to you to find out! 😂Under the cut, as usual!! (don't miss the bonus with a certain special guest that I've put in my reblogs)

Akiho plopped down on the carpet in front of a heap of big cushions, holding a big, thick book with a nicely decorated hardcover, a freshly acquired treasure from the local public library.

Despite having already checked two different books, she was ready to take a deep dive into the mysterious contents of the heavy tome in her lap, which thankfully was written in a rune system she already knew, allowing her to decode it without much effort.

The thickness of the book suggested that browsing through it wouldn't turn out to be a quick task, but Akiho didn't seem fazed in the least.

She was in her natural element, after all.

The young woman had no magic powers herself, but in all these years of scouring libraries all over the world looking for two particular magic spells, she had become familiar with a multitude of concepts she only had grazed while living with her clan, reading magic books for them.

Kaito, of course, had filled her in for all sorts of things she didn't know. Magic sources, magic systems, magic jargon...by now, they held no secrets for her.

She knew she couldn't embark on this mission without understanding the matter fully, and she found it fascinating, so she didn't perceive it as a burden nor reignited her personal insecurities of the past. She might not have been blessed with magic in her blood, but it felt empowering to gather knowledge about it, in order to make her wish come true.

However, merely 20 minutes later, Akiho began feeling slightly frustrated at the content of this particular grimoire. She found out that some of the pages had blank spaces right under what appeared to be some sort of code names she never heard of.

"I'll never get to the end of it, at this rate", she murmured.

Yet, the more secretive a book was, the better chance for her to find the complex spells she was looking for. She knew that much.

"Kaito-san...? Could you help me here for a second?"

A few seconds later, the dark haired young man appeared at the door of the library room, pausing for a moment by the threshold. He peered at her intently for what Akiho felt were five very long seconds, and then walked towards her.

To her surprise, he sat down on the carpet and snuggled her from behind.

"Let's see..." he said nonchalantly as Akiho stared straight ahead at the blank space on the book, heat uncontrollably rising from her cheeks while she tried to keep her composure.

"Uhm...some of the procedures for these spells are encrypted with a code name. I'm pretty sure the description won't appear unless someone with magic decrypts them..."

The magician looked intently at the page Akiho was stuck on, and then confidently declared "Siliyaesta...ah, this should be a spell to transmute people into animals".

As if confirming the correct answer, runes appeared on the page among a myriad of colorful sparkles, filling the blank space.

Akiho stared in awe and then grinned enthusiastically.

"You're incredible...there isn't a single spell that can escape your knowledge."

"Just the result of a childhood spent shut in a library to avoid despicable people."

Akiho chuckled in response to his bitter irony.

"...I could've said the same. Well, too bad this has nothing to do with the spells we're looking for."

She quickly turned the next few pages to move to the next magic ritual, when she felt him tighten his embrace and lower his face dangerously close to her ear.

The shiver that went down her spine caused her breath to hitch, loud enough for him to hear. Much to her embarrassment.

"Kaito-san.... this is not the mom-" "Your hair was tickling my nose."

Despite the red of her cheeks deepened further, Akiho couldn't help but roll her eyes. She knew quite well what he was trying to do, even when he feigned ignorance like this. It slightly annoyed her, but also stirred up the butterflies in her stomach. "Damn", she thought while sighing, "he's so childish sometimes".

Kaito had the nerve to smirk, amused by the reaction of the young woman he was clutching tightly, with the eagerness of a three year old with his most beloved teddy bear.

"We need to check as many magic books as possible during this weekend. I have classes again on Monday and you know that between university and my commissions for book repairs, I won't have as much time on weekdays" she gently reprimanded him.

"You're tired, Akiho-san. Put that book down for a moment" he said candidly, with that unnerving grin of his.

"Are you trying to sabotage me?" she retorted, bewildered.

Both knew how important what she was doing was, and it's not like Kaito didn't help with the quest either. The more time passed, the more Akiho could feel anxiety creeping in the depth of her soul. Especially now that they looked basically the same age.

"I wouldn't call this 'sabotaging', I'm just making sure you still have some semblance of eyesight for your classes on Monday", he replied placidly.

Touché. The two books and half had taken their toll on her and, admittedly, her eyes felt quite strained at the moment.

"Alright," she finally turned around, still wrapped in his grip, "if that's what you want, then make me."

Blue topaz met amethyst, twinkling in the dimmed light of the library.

Akiho felt Kaito's hands on her stomach shifting, heart beating like a drum, anticipation stifling her breath. His eyes had taken on a devilish glint.

Then, a squeal echoed in the room.

"K-Kaito-san!! No! Please stop!!"

The magician had turned Akiho into a ticklish, laughing mess, grimoire successfully removed from her hands, abandoned on the floor.

After a few minutes he eventually decided to have mercy on the young woman wrestling and squealing in his arms, stopping his tickling attack.

Defeated and breathless, Akiho couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed at Kaito’s triumphant smile, for more than one reason actually, yet she was sure she had fallen in love with him even further, and she couldn't honestly understand how he did that to her.

It was a mystery.

You know that my train could take you home

Anywhere else is hollow

I'm begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans

That's my man

[lala3244]

Obsession Part 4 (end)

~Hi! I finally finished this story. This last part is a LOOOOOOTTT longer than the other ones. I just couldn't decide when to stop it so here you have it... I went a little crazy there but hopefully, it'll be to your taste. It actually turned out how I wanted even though I am sure I should have improved it more. I actually enjoyed writing the story as a whole. It got to live with me every day for a few weeks so I might do some ficlets about it. So good reading!~

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Actual warnings this time : Blood, injury, kind of suggestive, craziness, fluff and kissing.

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Part 3

I was sitting down near the lake for a few minutes when I heard footsteps. I looked at the person who was now walking towards me, a bit worried but I realised it was Jake. I smiled at him, relieved and he sat next to me. We stayed silent, enjoying each other’s presence. After a few minutes of contemplating the waters, he turned his head towards me and I could feel his eyes watching me. I started to blush under his scrutiny so I brought my hand to my face to try and hide my rosy cheeks. I heard him chuckle and he laid down. I glanced at him, he had a hand behind his head and he was staring at the sky. “I couldn’t find Amelia.”

I laid down too. “Does that worry you?”

He tilted his head so he could look at me. “Yes. I didn’t know she felt that way about me. I am worried she might go after you.” 

I shrugged. “Why would she? We are not together. Unless… She knows something else…”

He cleared his throat and went back to staring at the sky. I giggled and we fell silent again. His phone beeped and he looked at it. “It’s Amelia.”

I propped myself on my elbows and quirked an eyebrow. “What is she saying?” He glanced at me then back to his phone as he was unsure if he should tell me. As he took too long to answer, I got curious so I approached him and grabbed his hand that was holding the phone. What I read chilled me to my core. 

*Now that Angela is out of the way, we can finally be together! I know where you are. I am on my way and we can finally seal our relationship.* 

“Wow. That’s scary. She’s really into you and now she is even stalking you.” I was rereading the message while he still hadn’t moved or said anything. I swung my head to see what was happening to the man next to me and I realised how close we actually were. His face was inches from mine, our shoulders were almost touching and he was watching me with that unreadable look, a hint of darkness glinting through it. I let go of his hand but I didn’t move, I liked the closeness and he didn’t seem to mind. I looked away as I started to get shy under his gaze. I did not know what he was thinking and it was a bit intimidating to be looked at like that.

He was still studying my face when we heard a whisper. “Jake?” We both looked up and saw Amelia in front of us. She had walked up to us without us noticing. Sadness was etched on her face, you could see she was heartbroken. “Jake? So that is the person you said you were in love with.” She pointed her finger at me as if I was not actually there. 

He only nodded. The sadness morphed into fury when her eyes fell on me. She swallowed hard, still staring me down and if looks could kill, I would be dead by now. Jake got up and put himself between us as we both could sense she was about to jump me. He grabbed her elbow and walked her away from me. I could not hear what they were saying but she seemed agitated then she left Jake and walked past me. She turned her head and with a devilishly smile, she said. “It is not over.” I shuddered at the threat and even if I did not know her, I trusted her words. 

I looked at Jake who had joined me. “Should I worry?” He grimaced which was weird as he usually always wore more of a stoic face. “Yes.” I frowned. “Okay? That’s not comforting at all.” He sighed, his eyes staring at the lake but he still did not speak. I was slowly starting to get annoyed at him. “What’s wrong?” He finally looked at me. “I don’t know how we got there.” He rubbed his face with his hands, my annoyance faded away. I put a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. He looked at my hand for a while then smiled fondly at me. “This is not how I thought our first meeting would be like.” I rubbed circles with my thumb on his forearm. “No. Me neither.” He moved a bit and grabbed my hand with his. He intertwined our fingers together and put them on his lap. His thumb stroked the back of my hand in a soothing motion. I smiled at the gesture and squeezed his hand slightly. 

I watched the water, trying to think of something else to say. “What did you imagine?” He chuckled and touched my shoulder with his as if he were to tell me a secret. “Do you really want to know?” I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Of course, I want to know.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder while still holding my hand.

“First, I would let you know that I made it alive.” I giggled and hummed for him to carry on. “Then I would find a way to get my freedom while still talking to you and when I were free, I would have come to see you.” I lifted my head with raised eyebrows. “You would have come to my house?” He stared in my eyes, anxious. “Would you have opened the door?” I grinned. “Maybe. I don’t know if I would have let a stranger enter my house, especially if I haven’t given him my address…” He laughed. 

I beamed at him, I liked hearing his laughter but a thought crossed my mind and I became serious. “Why didn’t you then?” He exhaled loudly and squeezed my shoulder. “I was scared and afraid that, even though you said you wanted to meet me, you wouldn’t want to meet me anymore. And the thought of meeting you was actually making me anxious, the reality of it, the fear of disappointing you, I don’t think I could have handled your rejection.” I pulled away from him and shook my head. “Do you think I am that shallow?” 

He pulled me back onto his chest and wrapped his arms around me. “No, not all. That had nothing to do with you. When it comes to computers and anything electronic, I know my way around it but when it comes to relationships, any kind of relationship, I freeze. It took me a while, too, to talk to Hannah and Lilly…” He stopped talking again. I could hear his heart pounding in his chest, I put a hand on top of it and the beatings got even faster. I closed my eyes, I was getting lulled by his slow breathing even if his heart wasn’t reflecting his outside demeanour. 

“You know… I was scared to meet you, too. It’s easy to talk and open up by messages but maybe you wouldn’t find me as interesting in real life or I just would be a disappointment or you just wouldn’t want to be in my life… Which you actually did.” I felt his breath being caught in his throat and his arms tightened around me. “You could never disappoint me and if you knew you would know I still want you in my life, always have.” I looked up at him. “What does that mean?” He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “Nothing.” I frowned. “Right.” I let it go even if my imagination was going bonkers. He laughed and I could feel the vibrations through my body. A smile lifted my lips at the sound again. “You know you will tell me one day, I will make you.” That made his laughter louder and after a few seconds, he calmed down. “I am sure you will.” 

I smirked, proud of myself at his answer. I snuggled even closer to his chest. It felt normal to be in his arms. It felt like I was being home. He rubbed a hand up and down my back and I nuzzled my face into his shirt, I smelt his perfume. It was exactly the kind I adore and I could feel his muscly but still comfortable chest under my cheeks. We had fallen back into that comfortable silence we kept falling into. I closed my eyes, listening closely to his calm breathing and his now calm heartbeat.

He cleared his throat and I opened my eyes. “Would you be able to forgive me?” He shifted a bit but made no movement to pull away from me. “I mean, for not contacting you?” I giggled. “It’s already forgiven, I was just teasing you.” He sniggered and tightened his arms around me. Since I realised I had feelings for him, I had dreamed of this and I felt content even with the impending threat looming over me but my insecurities kept pulling me back. When will he have enough of me? I will bore him to death. I just could not understand how he, someone so intelligent, so handsome, so intense would be infatuated with me. A nobody, a bland person. Especially, after having met the two women who had been in his life before me. I was falling down that rabbit hole of self-deprecation hard and fast.

It kind of startled me because I haven’t done that in years so I peeled myself away from him and stood up to stretch my legs. I thought I heard him sigh in frustration but when I looked back at him, he was staring at me, his intense gaze back. “What are you thinking about?” I shook my head while stretching my back. “Nothing.” He stood up and stopped before me. He slowly brought a hand to my face and froze for a second. As I did not move away, he put it delicately on my cheek. My breath hitched in my throat at the tender gesture. I looked in his eyes and I saw him scanning my face in search of what was really happening. 

I avoided his eyes with mine, I did not want him to see the truth behind them but in the corner of my eyes I saw a flash of recognition crossing his handsome face. I closed my eyes and wondered how he could read me that easily. His other hand moved to my waist and the other tilted my head, he stared into my eyes and he gave me the most charming smile I had ever been given. “I don’t think you know how much of an impact you made in my life.” He stepped even closer, watching any reaction. 

He lowered his head and touched my forehead with his. “You don’t know how much you have been on my mind. Constantly.” He slowly stroked my cheeks slowly, I felt his warm breath on my skin and I realised I wanted more of that man. I put my hands on his forearms and slid them both up simultaneously. I smoothed over his taut muscles then I left them on his shoulders, stepping in closer. My voice lowered, betraying my thoughts slightly. “Constantly?” He chuckled darkly. “Every second of every day. When I wake up, when I eat, when I work, when I go to sleep and in my dreams.” I could feel my cheeks slowly heating up at the implication of his words as I could see a darkness in his eyes arriving when he pronounced the last ones. 

He leaned in and softly pressed his lips against mine. I felt like my heart exploded and I moved my hands from his shoulders to his neck then I tangled them in his hair. I deepened the kiss and he brought me flush against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down my sides. I had been kissed before but it had never felt like that and I always thought that was a myth when people said that noises faded away, the world faded away but at that moment I understood. I couldn’t hear the birds that were singing seconds earlier, the only noises I could hear were our breaths mixing together. 

We pulled away to catch our breath and smiled at each other. We stayed longer contemplating each other and what that kiss meant. I cleared my throat and looked away. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Shall we walk?” I nodded and grabbed my stuff from the floor. We started to walk towards the town’s centre. We made small talk, and we were finally getting to know each other. 

He accompanied me to Jessy’s flat. I stopped at the steps in front of the building and faced him. “That was nice.” He hummed, his eyes scanning my face and a small smile appeared on his. He leaned down and brushed his lips on mine. “It was.” He cupped my cheeks and pressed a chaste kiss on my open lips as I was about to talk but it cut me off. He pulled away with a smirk and straightened up. “Right. I hope you don’t have any plans tonight as I am taking you out.” Then he left without waiting for an answer. I was watching him walking when I heard a car arriving fast in the street, I saw Jake turning around, frowning.

It worried me so I turned too and I saw a van stopping in front of me. A guy wearing all black got out from the side door and grabbed me to then throw me into the van. He jumped behind me and closed the door. He pinned me onto the vehicle’s floor so I could not move anymore. The guy hit the ceiling of the van with his hand and I felt it start rapidly. The whole ordeal had lasted for only a few seconds, I did not have to react to anything that had happened and now I was face down on the floor. The weight of my kidnapper on me made it difficult to breathe. I could feel my heart pounding in my head and it made it difficult to think.

After what felt like hours, the van stopped and I heard the door open. The man got off of me and I took a deep breath. It was painful to breathe as he had stayed his knees on my back the whole trip. Just the movement of my chest was painful so I decided to not move more than I needed to. He was out of the vehicle and he grabbed my arm violently. He threw me on the floor, in front of someone. My head was at their feet and I looked up. I immediately recognised that face. Amelia. So it was not over, indeed. I froze and she smiled sweetly while leaning down. She cupped my face, her face inches from mine. “So we meet again.” My eyes widened. I knew she would try something but I did not think it would be that quickly after her threat and even Jake did not seem worried when he left me earlier. She laughed, her breath on my skin made me shudder. “How was kissing MY boyfriend?” 

She did not wait for my answer and pushed my head violently to the side. She spoke to her bodyguard who pulled me up and pushed me inside a building. It looked abandoned and far from any civilisation. My chest tightened at the realisation that no one would find me or if they did, it would be too late. We entered a huge hall with a chair in the middle of it. I was fighting the painful grip the man had on me but I stopped when I saw that chair. What a weird thing to have only in a building! 

I was sat on the chair with my hands tied behind my back watching the woman pacing in front of me. She was mumbling to herself, laughing like a maniac. I was looking at the scene and I only started to realise what was happening. What the?!! Had I just been kidnapped? On the street? In front of Jake? In broad daylight? What the?! I struggled against the rope holding me, panic coursing through me. “SHUT UP!” I jumped in my seat and I looked at her, bewildered. I saw her hand going backward and she pulled a knife out of her back pocket. 

She was now close to me but this time the tip of her knife was going up and down my face. Her eyes were wild, madness transpiring from them. I gulped hard. She looked unpredictable and quite frightening. I glanced towards the guard who was now standing by the door, not quite facing us. He looked afraid and disgusted by what was happening. “I told you it wasn’t over.” She pressed the knife into my skin and I felt a sting as the tip pierced my skin. She dragged it along my cheeks, smiling happily as my blood started to swell on the wound and then ran thickly along it. I winced and groaned at the pain. She took the knife off, jumped and clapped her hands like a little girl. Her voice became high pitched and she twirled around me “I know you think Jake loves you but he doesn’t. No, no, no, my sweet, naive little girl. He is manipulative and calculated. He plays a silly, little game with me, I know it. He wants me! But really, he doesn’t need to play to have me! He already had me the moment we got together.” Her eyes became vacant when she recalled her memories. “His skin on my skin, the noises our bodies made together…” 

I tuned her out, I really did not want to listen to her and I tried to find a way to escape. I tried to get the guard’s attention but he was not looking at us. I groaned in frustration and it seemed like it brought her back to reality. “But the next day, he left with just a note to thank me. I knew then that the game had started.” She approached me again and cut through my shirt. She stared into my eyes, gliding her knife dangerously on my chest. “He talked to me about you. I know he did it because I would get jealous. See? Always a silly little game with him.” She pushed the knife into my skin again. This time, I screamed and I breathed heavily. She giggled, so pleased with herself. I heard a thud while she was giggling. 

I briefly glanced over at the noise and I saw the guard on the floor, unconscious, then he was pulled back, out of my sight. I held my breath and looked back at her to see if she had noticed then a shape appeared in the corner of my eyes. She was still giggling, her eyes closed, clearly satisfied with herself so I glanced again at the door and saw Jake. He was watching the scene, an unreadable expression on his face. 

He took a step but it made some noise and she stopped giggling. I knew I had to do something to distract her. “Do you think he loves you?” Her crazy eyes widened and she smirked. “Of course, he does!” I nodded. “Did he tell you he loves you?” She shook her head. “No but I know he does. You can’t make love to someone without loving them.” I let my laughter take the better of me. She was so naive or in another world, I did not know which one. If I was not tied up to a chair right now and bleeding because of her, I would have felt pity for her. She clearly needed some help. Her face morphed from innocence to anger in a second and she pointed the knife into my chest again. I stopped breathing. “Why is that so funny?” I shrugged slowly, trying to not cut myself on the knife. “Humans have needs and in that case, you were there at the right moment, that’s all.” She let the sharp object pierce me and slowly, excruciatingly slowly she sliced through my skin. I screamed while closing my eyes at the pain blossoming from my chest then the pressure suddenly left me and I opened my eyes.

Jake was in front of me while Amelia was on the floor, unconscious. Jake bent over me to untie my hands. I sighed loudly and closed my eyes, relieved that he had found me. We did not talk, there was nothing to say. I finally opened my eyes and I saw Amelia standing up, a hand high up holding the knife, aiming at Jake. I felt the rope falling down my hands and I stood up to grab her knife. My brusque movement destabilised her and she fell. I fell with her, carried by my momentum. She screamed until her back hit the floor, her breath knocked out of her lungs. I found myself on top of her, my hands holding the sharp object. The feeling of powerlessness and fear gave place to a rage and fury I had never experienced in my life. She wanted to hurt me, fine but Jake. I could not take it.

I plunged her knife in her chest, putting my whole weight into it. I took it out and started to plunge it again when I saw her already lifeless body, the fury that had been ignited my body had left me as quickly as it came. I dropped the knife on her and scrambled away from her, from Jake. I could not believe what I had just done. I looked at my hands and I started to shake. What would Jake think of me now? I just killed someone in front of him. Someone he knew, a friend? Did he consider her as a friend? I was on my knees now and I put my head down. I could not face him. 

I heard his footsteps getting closer to me then his feet appeared in my field of vision. I did not move, staring at his shoes. He called my name but I still did not move. How could he still pronounce my name after what I had just done? I felt his hand on top of my head and he caressed it gently. He whispered my name, I could hear he was getting worried now. How could he be worried after what I had just done? His hand left my head and went to my arm. He pulled me up easily and brought me to his chest. How could he touch me after what I had just done? He wrapped his arms around me and put the side of my face that was not wounded on his chest. How could he embrace me after what I had just done? He rubbed my back soothingly up and down. How could he try to comfort me after what I had just done? 

He called my name again and he pulled away slightly. He brought a hand to my chin and tilted my head so he could look into my eyes. That intense dark look was back on his face but it was even more intense than before. His voice was low and commanding. “Talk to me.” I could not look away from his eyes, they were drawing me in and the only thing I could squawk was. “Do we call the police?” He chuckled darkly. “It’s been taken care of.” His voice sent shivers through my spine. I could only nod as slowly his presence and his voice made me come out of my mental state. I was too inside my thoughts to ask what the “taken care of” meant. 

I finally moved and I wrapped my arms around his chest, nuzzling my nose into his shirt. “I am sorry” My voice was muffled but he understood anyway. “How are you feeling?” I tightened my grip around him. I knew I could tell him how I felt. “I…” I took a deep breath because saying would make it real. “I just killed someone.” He hummed and slowly swayed us back and forth. “How can you still be here? Taking me into your arms?” He sighed and he pressed his cheeks on the top of my head. “You saved my life and even if you had killed her just for the fun of it, I would still hold you.” I giggled despite the situation. “You are weird.” He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. We fell silent and as the situation started to become real so did my wounds. The pain came with a real revenge and I let out a groan. Jake pulled me away and looked at me, concerned. “What? What’s wrong?” I touched the cut on my face and winced. “The cuts. They are starting to be painful.”

He looked at my face then at my chest. I was covered in blood and not just mine. I looked at his shirt and touched it with my bloody hands. “I am sorry about your shirt.” He shook his head, a glint in his eyes I could not identify then took one of my hands. “Can you walk?” I looked at him and my brain decided for a moment to forget what I had just been through. “What if I can’t?’ He chuckled and came closer to me. “I’d have to carry you to my car.” I smiled brightly at him. “Okay then I can’t walk.” He smiled and put his arms around my shoulders and the back of my knees. I wrapped my arms around his neck and I leaned my head on his shoulder. I could smell his perfume, I adored it, I could not remember the name of it but… I brought my face closer to his neck and sniffed his skin. I thought to myself that I would do anything to actually not think about what went on earlier and I thought that I would deal with it later. As I was taking in his smell, I saw his carotid pulsing and an urge to kiss it took me by surprise. I indulged my urge and pressed my lips on it. I felt him falter and his breathing went faster. I smiled and put my head back on his shoulder. 

He opened the passenger’s door and gently bent down to help me sit in the car. I smirked at him. “Thank you so much my knight in shining armour!” He glared down at me and closed the door. I watched him walk around the car to the driver’s side. I admired his body, how he was walking, his back straight, a confidence and arrogance exuding from him. He sat on his seat and started the engine. The roaring of the car made me shudder which made him snap his head. “Are you ok?” I nodded. “It is a nice sound” He snickered. “So where are you taking me?” He started slowly to drive away from that awful place. “My place.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You have a place?” He had a half smile while he glanced at me. “Yes. What did you think? That I still lived in motels?” I stared at him, not knowing what to say. “I didn’t really think about it actually. Maybe you were living with Angela? I don’t know.” He glanced back again and shook his head. “How are your cuts?” I brought the visor down and looked at myself in the mirror. I winced at the sight but at least it was not bleeding anymore. “They still hurt but I think they aren’t bleeding anymore.” He put a hand on my thigh and I put mine on his, squeezing it softly. “We are almost there.” I nodded and closed my eyes.

I woke up in Jake's arms. We were in front of a door and he gently set me down on my feet. He left an arm around me and with his free hand, he looked for his keys. He entered first to turn the alarm off and I followed, a smile on my face thinking that I was not surprised by this installation. He grabbed my hands and led me to the bathroom. He still hadn’t said a word since the car. “What are you doing?” He was starting to take what was left of my shirt off then he kneeled down to take my shoes off. “You’re getting into the shower and after you are cleaned I will look at your wounds.” I nodded and hummed as I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as he helped me take off my shoes. He stood up quickly to open the water and I started to take my pants off. 

He quickly undressed too and I could not help but to enjoy the view in front of me. A smirk appeared on his face but he did not say anything. He pushed me gently under the water and I gasped as the hot water splashed on my face, making my wounds sting. He got inside the shower and he stood behind me. I could not see him but I could feel his warmth on my back. He reached over to the rack where his shampoo and shower gel were and grabbed the bottles. He put them on the side next to him and he grabbed me by my shoulders to turn me around so I could face him. I squeaked at the sudden movement. 

He poured the product in his hands and lathered them up. He took a step closer, his chest now touching mine, giving me butterflies in my stomach when I felt his muscled abdomen. He proceeded to wash my body, avoiding my cuts with the product. The gestures were sweet and gentle. He got out of the shower and he grabbed a towel. He unfolded it then I wrapped myself in it. He turned the water off then he grabbed his towel and quickly dried himself off. I stood there watching him, appreciating the droplets running down his skin. He left the bathroom, still without a word and he came back holding fresh clothes. 

I got dressed with the help of the hacker and he took my hand. I followed him to the living room and we stopped in front of the sofa. “Take a seat.” I giggled and sat. He left the room and came back with a first aid kit. He sat next to me to check the cut on my face. “It’s not too deep.” I nodded and I let him take care of the wound. Once he was down, he pulled away. “Can you lift your shirt?” I did as he asked me and treated the second injury. It stung but at  least they were cleaned now and even if I looked weird with a bandage on my face, it felt better. 

He was done with putting the bandage on my chest when his bell rang. He stood up and opened the door. “Hello Jake.” I turned around to see Angela standing in front of him. “Angela. What are you doing here?” She smiled and entered the apartment. “I want to talk to you.” I stood up. “I’ll leave you two alone.” I started to walk to a door I have not gone through yet and before I could close the door behind me, I heard Angela talking. “You never invited me to your house but…” I sighed, I did feel bad for Angela. She was sweet, she did not deserve that. 

I looked around the room. On the wall in front of me, there were pictures upon pictures of me. I took the few steps I needed to get in front of the wall and stared closely at them. At first, I saw pictures of my social media but then there were pictures I had never seen. Photos of me at work, at a bar, walking somewhere, with my friends, with my parents… I took time to process what I was seeing. Has he been… stalking me? I did not know how long I stood there but I got pulled to reality when I heard the door close behind me. I did not turn around but I heard his footsteps coming closer and I felt the heat radiating off his body on my back. I was too stunned to talk or do anything really. 

After a few minutes where none of us said anything, I turned to face him. I watched his face, as usual, it was unreadable. “I don’t know if I should be worried or flattered?” He half-smiled. “That’s for you to judge.” I hummed as I remembered what he said at the lake. 

-You could never disappoint me and if you knew you would know I still want you in my life, always have.- 

I moved around him looking at the photos around the room. “So a whole room dedicated to me then? Isn’t that a little obsessive?” He chuckled. “Yes it is.” I stopped in front of one where I am inside my house. I took it off the wall and brought it to Jake. As I said, I did not know if I was creeped out or flattered. I showed him the photo. “So you actually know everything about my life, don’t you?” He nodded, his eyes following my every movement. “Hmm, I see.” I moved away from him, still looking at the photos. I turned my head slightly and I saw him fidgeting in the corner of my eyes. I smirked to myself and I went back before him. “So someone gives you a little attention, flirts with you by text message and you become obsessed that easily, huh?” 

He stopped his fidgeting and his eyes widened. I stepped closer. “It’s a good thing I actually like you a lot and that I trust you because that would definitely freak me out.” I was about to walk away when he grabbed me by the waist and pushed me against the wall. He kissed me with such force and passion, it literally took my breath away. I gasped when he pulled away with a smirk. He left the room, leaving me panting and wanting more. I shook my head and sighed. 

After a few seconds, I followed him out of the room into the kitchen. I looked at the man who with a few words was making me fall in love with him hard and fast. A knock at the door startled me and he opened it. He took the bags from the person at the door and closed it. He then put the bags on his kitchen counter and started to pull stuff out of them. “There is delivery here in Duskwood?” He frowned. “Yes, Why?” I shrugged and approached the counter. “Because I live in a town bigger than Duskwood and we don’t have food deliveries.” He chuckled and passed me a box out of a bag. “I hope you are hungry. It’s chinese.” I beamed at him and my chest swelled at the fact that he had not forgotten. “Do you really think I would forget anything about you and us?” I raised an eyebrow and thought back about that room. “I guess not.”

We spent the whole evening talking about our childhood, our lives. I was seeing him in a new light. Not the mysterious hacker but a boy who had, his whole life, searched for recognition, any recognition at all from virtually anyone… After a few hours, I yawned. It had been a long day. “Shall we go to bed?” I nodded and I followed him to his bedroom. I was so sleepy, I did not take the time to look around and I just went straight into the duvet. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. 

I woke up with a start, my nightmare already a faded memory but the emotions were still raw, overwhelming my thoughts. I felt a body moving next to me and a hand touched my back. “Hey. What’s wrong?” I snapped my head, ready to attack whoever it was when I realised it was Jake, that I was safe here. I plopped down on him and wrapped an arm around him, my head nuzzling his chest. “Had a nightmare.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Want to talk about it?” I shook my head. “Can’t remember it.” He stroked my back. I kept my eyes open even if it was pitch black in the room but I was afraid to fall back asleep and having a new nightmare. The stroking on my back and Jake’s calm breathing quickly lulled me back to sleep. 

I woke up, alone. I sighed and stretched. I looked around and I realised that it was not a dream. Everything that had happened yesterday was real. My heart beat faster at the thought. I had killed someone. It was self defence but I still killed someone. How would I ever be able to get over it? Tears started to well up in my eyes. I relived the whole day. It was the best but also the worst and I did not know how to feel. My breath became shallow as the emotions started to overwhelm me. I could not believe how reckless my behaviour was after the kidnapping, with Jake, how I made jokes or flirted with him. It did not faze him apparently. I remembered the room and all the photos. Jeez. I still did not know how to feel about it and we did not talk about it after. Maybe we should not yet? 

I heard noises coming from the kitchen so I got up and joined Jake. He heard me walking to him and he turned around from cooking, smiling at me. “How did you sleep?” I shyly smiled back. “Better after the nightmare.” He turned around to his cooking. “It’s done, I hope you are hungry.” I nodded and went to sit at the table, waiting for him to serve me breakfast. I was watching, but I could not help it. He was charismatic and you could not just take your eyes away from his form. I saw it happen at the bar too. He brought a plate in front of me as well as my phone. I looked at him, intrigued. “It kept going off. It was Jessy. I answered. She was worried about you and I told her you were fine. I hope that’s okay?” I nodded and looked at my phone. I saw dozens of texts and missed calls. I quickly ate the breakfast and called her back. 

“Could you give me a lift at Jessy’s?” He stared at me and I saw his jaw clench. “Sure.” I tilted my head. “What’s wrong?” He shook his head and ran a hand in his hair, his face relaxing a bit. “I just thought you would spend the day with me.” I smiled and took his hand. “I’m sorry. Jessy needs me and I need to clear my thoughts. I… I have a hard time processing all of that.” He looked at me, concern etched in his gorgeous features. He stood up and cleared the table without another word. I sighed. It seemed it was always like that with him. He could not say what he thought at the time. 

I left the table and went to the bathroom. I saw my pants lying on the floor, they were dirty but I put them on after taking off Jake’s shorts. I went back to Jake. “Can I keep your shirt? As mine is kind of destroyed?” He just nodded his head and I sighed again. “Jake…” I stepped closer to him and I lightly touched his back. “Jake.” He turned around and faced me, an annoyed look on his face. I ignored it even if I felt a pinch in my chest. “I… I don’t know what to say. I am overwhelmed and staying here with you it’s too much. Right now, I need to be in the presence of someone who doesn’t know anything about it.” Jake was taller than me so I stood on my toes and kissed him. At first, he did not move but after a few seconds, he moved his hands on my hips and pulled me closer. He was first to pull away and he leaned his forehead on mine, closing his eyes. 

He exhaled loudly. “I just… Now, that I have kissed you, that you slept in my arms…” He opened his eyes and the darkness was back. I realised what it was now. Obsession, want and need all together. “I can’t let go of you anymore.” I pecked him on the nose. “You know in two days I have to go back home?” Still with eyes closed, he frowned and shook his head. “I know and I don’t want to think about it.” I caressed his cheek then I hugged him with my whole body. “Can we go?” He reluctantly moved away from me and grabbed his keys. “Yeah…” 

I was in front of Jessy’s door. I had said goodbye to the hacker when he finally let me go. I smiled when I thought about him. He was so sweet and still mysterious. I could not wait to know more about him and to spend more time with him. I did not know how but I did not lose anything when all of these happened. I still had my phone, my wallet and my keys. So I took the keys and opened the door. I could hear Jessy being in the bathroom so I hurried up and went straight to the guest room to change before Jessy saw me. I kept Jake’s shirt on, it felt nice and it smelled like him. 

When I came out of the room, Jessy was in the kitchen. “Hey Jessy.” She jumped and turned around. “Hey! You’re back!” She looked me over and gasped when she saw the bandage on my face. “What happened? Did Jake do that to you?” I laughed and shook my head. “No, don’t worry about it.” I walked over to her. “Are you making coffee?” She stared at me suspiciously but did not make any more comments. “Yes.” She gave me a cup. “What do you want to do today?” I thanked her and grabbed the cup. “Anything you want.” She looked at the window and smiled. “Shall we go to the lake? It’s nice outside! We can have a picnic and sunbathe!” 

The day went by quickly. It was so nice out there and being here with someone I could now claim as my best friend was a nice change compared to the day before and I was so grateful to her for not pushing about what happened to me. I received texts, normal texts from the hacker during the day. I was surprised he used a normal way to communicate but I was glad. It felt like a somewhat normal relationship. I answered sporadically as I wanted my focus to be on my friend and not on him. I would do that when I would be home, overthinking every action I made that brought me where I ended up. Jessy had started to open up. She confided in me a lot. I could see that slowly a weight was lifting off of her shoulders. 

We went back home late in the afternoon. We put our pjs on and spent the rest of the evening watching TV and drinking wine. We woke up both on the sofa and got ready for the day. She had planned a day with the group as I was leaving in the afternoon. My vacation was finally over. I felt sad as we walked down to the coffee shop. All of them were already there, except Jake. I was sad. I wanted to see him before I left but I put away the sadness and smiled happily while I hugged my friends. They all asked me what had happened to my face but I lied saying that while I was walking in the forest a branch had grazed me and they moved on. I texted Jake. 

*We are at the coffee shop. Are you coming?*

I locked my phone and joined the conversation. A few hours passed and Jake finally answered.

*I’ll meet you at the bus station.” 

I smiled and I realised it was time to leave if I did not want to miss my bus. I stood up. “Well… I have to go. I wanted to say… I am glad I could finally meet all of you and I hope we can still be in touch even though we are far away. I would have loved to stay longer but I need to go back to work but know that you are always welcome in my house and I actually have the space for all of you together! So please do not hesitate to come whenever you can!” They all stood up and we went for a group hug. 

Jessy dropped me off at the station after we went back to her flat to get my luggage. The trip was in silence, both of us in our own bubbles. When she stopped, I got out of the car and grabbed my bag. I hugged her with all my strength. “Thank you for having me Jessy. I’ll miss you so much.” Tears were running down my cheeks, it broke my heart to leave her, especially after she confided in me, knowing that she had not told anyone else what she was going through. “You could come with me?” She cried and laughed at the same time. “I’d love to, but thanks to you I decided to move to Colville. I have an opportunity for a job there so I think I will take it.” I grinned, I was so proud of her for trying to move on. “Alright, Thank you for the lift and I want to know everything about your move!” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “Yes I will if you promise to tell me what really happened to you. I know it wasn’t a branch who hurt you.” I blushed. “Right. I promise you.” She giggled and got back inside her car. I waved her goodbye when I felt someone standing next to me. 

Jake grabbed my bag and my hand without a word, as usual. We walked towards the station, still in silence. We stopped and faced each other. He cupped my face and leaned in to kiss me. His kiss was soft, the opposite of what was written on his face. He looked sad, in pain. I put my hand on his chest and smiled. “Thank you for coming, Jake.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. He buried his face in the crook of my neck. “I don’t think I can let you go.” I also wrapped my arms around him and kissed his neck. “I am going to miss you too but I can’t just quit and leave everything.” His grip tightened around me. “I know” My hands were moving up and down, I was trying to comfort him as much as I could when we heard the bus arriving. 

He kissed me again and again. The kisses became more and more desperate and needy. I had to stop him because the bus driver was about to close the door. I did not want to but I had no choice. “I have to go.” I took my luggage and entered the bus. I found an empty seat where I could see Jake. He had that blank face again and I realised that face was the one where he felt a strong emotion but he did not want it to show. I waved at him, tears started to form in my eyes. I wanted to stay. I could have stayed actually but I just could not uproot my life for people I just only met. 

I closed my eyes as I did not want to see the hacker slowly moving further away as the bus moved. I was finally alone with my thoughts. All the events that happened the week before came rushing back all at once and I got overwhelmed. I opened my eyes and looked outside. That was a crazy week. I still did not know what happened to Amelia’s body. Will there be an investigation? Would I be suspected? Why did Jake say it was taken care of? What does that mean? I forgot to ask him. I sent him a text with that question but as usual he ignored it.

*Is it really the first thing you are sending me?*

I laughed to myself. Always so mysterious. I put my phone away and carried on watching the outside and without realising it I fell asleep. I woke up, feeling lost. It took me some time to realise where I was and I chuckled. I looked at the time and I realised we were almost at my stop. I slept for the whole trip! Incredible! 

I descended from the bus and looked around, sadness took over me. There was no one to greet me back home. I walked back home. I decided to relax at home for the day as the next day I had to go to work. Before I left for my holidays, I had cleaned the whole house so I did not have to do it when I came back and I was glad and thanked my past self for the huge service! I spent the whole day watching TV, trying to drown my overwhelming thoughts. I binge-watched a new series I always told myself I should watch and I did not regret it for a second. I am looking forward to the new seasons! I looked at the time as I was getting so tired. I made myself something quick to eat then I got ready to go to bed. I had texted Jessy and Jake that I had arrived and I was glad to be home. Jessy answered me and we carried on texting during the day but I had no answer from Jake. 

Next day arrived and the routine fell back into place. Woke up, made myself a cup of coffee, ate breakfast, got dressed and went to work. I loved my job but it was hard to get back to it. My mind could not stop going back to Duskwood and the people in it. The day was over before I knew. My coworkers asked me about my holidays and I told her a few things that had happened. I had taken off the bandage by that point and the cut was clearly still visible but, unexpectedly, no one had asked me about it! I was glad about it. 

I went home and put on something more comfortable. I had the rest of the afternoon off as usual, I liked that job and having the afternoon off was one of the reasons. I was going about my business when I heard a knock on my door. I frowned. Who could that be? I did not usually have any visitors so I was really surprised about it. I opened it and I stood there frozen. There, in a different town, in a different country, stood Jake. He was staring at me, a half smile and a hand running through his hair. “Hi” I unfroze. “Hi Jake. What… What are you doing here?” He let his arm fall down his side and tilted his hair. “Can I come in? I am not a stranger anymore, am I?” I laughed and moved aside so he could get in. He had two bags with him. He entered the living room and looked around. “Nice house.” I shrugged. “It’s okay I guess.” He approached me and stopped in front of me. “I told you I couldn’t let go of you.” And he kissed me, with so much passion that it took my breath away again. I did not know how he managed that but I was becoming addicted to his way of kissing. He pushed me against a wall while kissing me. He grabbed the back of my thighs and made me wrap them around his waist. I put my arms around his neck and scratched his scalp. He pulled his head away. “Where is your bedroom?” I smiled and pointed towards the stairs.

================================================

THE END

I am sorry for the long story... I just couldn't decide when to cut... So I didn't write the smut part as I'm not confident in doing it and I have no one to beta read all I write... I might do it... I don't know yet... I also did not write more about the day at the lake with Jessy at the end because I didn't see any purpose to it. I might do it too. We'll see with the response :).

You can find this story in its entirety in AO3 :)

[quitealotofsodapop]

Any plans or ideas on how Reborn!Wukong meets his LEM? He's the only one left who hasn't met his other half yet.

Accidentally tuned an ask into a little ficlet that continues under read more;

It all starts after the pilgrims leave the tree of Longevity Mountain, the Ginseng tree now healed by Lady Guanyin and the remaining power of Qi Energy.

Unbenknowst to the pilgrims; that small piece of Qi Energy still had a mind of its own.

And it still wanted to go on the Journey.

To be like the demon it so adored in it's short time on Earth; the little piece of energy reforms itself into a little stoney egg.

Not realizing that they're a little late.

The patrons of Longevity Mountain are not pleased. Pure Wind and Bright Moon in particular believe that the Stone Egg was directly formed from the chaos wrought between Monkey and Yuandi. Great Immortal Zhenyuan, however, opposes the idea of destroying the egg; instead suggesting that the creature within be given to the gods to be raised as a loyal servant.

The Six Earred Macaque meanwhile is busy collecting the demonic souls left behind in the bloodshed of Yuandi's battle. Using his Lantern, he collect lost souls for transport to the nearest holy sites so that they may pass on in peace.

Encountering the injured, but alive Gold and Silver demons; Macaque learns of the Ginseng Tree's destruction, Yuandi's release, the battle, and the deaths caused by Tripitaka's diciples. He decides to make his way to the Five Village Abbey to drop off the collected souls, and to inspect the damaged caused by a mere group of monks.

When the shadowy being approaches the Abbey, they are roughly turned away by the Daoist Lads; only to push past them to release the Lantern's souls at the altar. The demons' souls rise and sink into their next plane of existance.

Macaque continues inspecting the temple, notably the Ginseng tree itself, which has since begun healing and producing a new round of fruit. Macaque has no interest in the fruit - thinks they look gross.

Macaque is however; very interested in the Egg-shaped rock containing the sounds of a crying baby monkey deep within, hidden within the sancutary altar.

The Stone Egg begins hatching the moment it detects a similar creature to itself nearby. However, newborn and without memory, the soul within is completely helpless. To the Macaque, the soul looks to be a completely normal (albeit oddly created) infant monkey demon.

Macaque steals away with the half-hatched Egg before the Daoist Lads can stop him - helped by a pair of annoying loyal twin demons who declare him their new sifu.

The new group then makes their way along the path westward, following the trail of the pilgrims who caused so much pain to demonkind.

Macaque's little stowaway is just happy to be finally joining the Journey to the West.

[helianskies]

reflecting on my 2023 in this fandom, i wanted to share some observations, reflections and projections for 2024. it's a little mix of positive and negative stuff so, and as this will be something mostly only mutuals will read (if at all), i just wanted to give you that heads up. i have some bits to get off my chest.

so, to start with, some little observations about myself as a writer:

i tag it 'nationverse' because i don't tend to write nationverse (the odd bit of historical, but not consistently), and i think it's useful to signpost to my readers 'oh btw they are actually nations in this one, in case that's not what you want to read today'. that is okay.

i will always call it 'engspa' to distinguish it from 'spuk' because i have a preferred dynamic for them and i grew up in a fandom space that tagged things as such to help readers know what they were getting into. that is okay.

i prefer having a ficlet collection to posting small works separately because it helps me manage my fics, see what i have and haven't done, navigate my profile, keep the request fics in one place, and maintain my drive to write small things compared to posting them all separately. that is okay.

i block people in order to curate my online enviroment, to avoid topics or content i'm not interested in or that i don't want to be in my happy space, and to manage my own emotions - and i am allowed to do so. that is okay.

i don't like every ship under the sun and so won't fulfil every request or suggestion i receive into my inbox, no matter how many times i am asked to. that is okay.

i just feel a need to address these things that have cropped up in my year. at a few points i've felt like a 'bad writer' for doing certain things or have been made to feel like a 'bad writer' for... essentially having preferences. at various points i lost confidence and contemplated throwing the towel.

thing is, we all do things differently, and we all have our own systems, preferences, and needs. i wish we'd stop putting each other down for that.

while i don't doubt my insecurities won't shift much next year, in 2024, i'll be in my eighth year writing. that feels like an achievement i ought to be celebrating. and it reminds me how important writing is in my life - because that's a third of my lifetime i will have been writing for. and mostly for this fandom, haha...

.°˖✧

looking on the fics i've written and finished this year, if i had to pick my favourite three, they'd probably be...

'Let Me Go' - i'm still patting myself on the back for this one. it's my favourite piece of nationverse i've written to date, and i could do so much with it...

'Want' - begging myself to write a sequel that i probably won't, but i can dream!

'Smokescreen' - ...it felt good to be bad, just for a little bit!

if i then think about my favourite aus in general from this year, then it's got to be:

the zoo au, from 'Lovebirds' because it's just CUTE, okay?

the RNLI au, from 'Swell', in which Arthur and Antonio are lifeboat volunteers (10/10 would write more)

the dragons au, from 'Scales' because worldbuilding is fun but also,, Rhys, my boy! :D

the school au, from 'The Note', for the memories it brings back and the reminder that i can write fluff, dammit!

and if only you guys knew the aus happening in my messages with maiva,, we are so smart we are so cool we are constantly drowning in cats :)

to conclude these little reflections on my year in fandom, things i'm a bit sad about:

i've given up on 'Bound' as a series - i just haven't been able to get anywhere with the plans or drafts i have, and i've lost my love for it, so it's officially parked.

'Hopeful Waters' will also definitely not continue - i will, however, not delete it as i have stopped myself from doing a million times this year. i may write snippets of 'what would have been' but my relationship with the fic is... largely negative, so i make no promise.

hetaween fics slipped through my darn fingers this year and i didn't write as much as i wanted. next year, i will return with vengeance... ùwú

and things i'm happy about or proud of from this year:

romespa ✨everything✨

i've written now well over a million words on ao3 which feels,, just surreal, honestly. 16 year old helia would never

i finally cleared out my ao3 inbox and stopped hoarding comments for months and i'm keeping on top of it!

i've continued to write dialogue prompt lists! it always makes me happy when i see others using them as well <3

.°˖✧

and so, looking at 2024...

next year, what i'm hoping above all else is that 'For Me?' reaches its conclusion. it's been slow-going this year with updates, and it's nearly two years old (ouch), but i'm now finally getting the plot back on track and i know my direction. i hope the wait will be worth it! i'm excited about what's to come for Antonio, Arthur, and the others :)

i also hope 'Bitter Teeth' keeps going strong. i hope i let myself take breaks without feeling so guilty. i hope i get more into historical hetalia again. i really want to explore the implications of the events of 'Let Me Go'. i hope i learn to love my unfinished works or abandoned wips. i hope i start sharing more of my ideas. i hope i learn it's okay to not always want to write the same characters over and over, even if they are my favourites.

really, i just want to keep moving forward. i want to keep writing. i want to keep loving writing. i want to keep exploring. i want to not succumb to negativity as much. i want to indulge even more in what i want and what i feel like.

oh, and i want more cat aus. sorry maiva. we're not finished.

.°˖✧

to finish, i just wanted to leave a little thanks to the friends i have here who read my stuff, who encourage me, and who give me the confidence to continue forwards. i treasure you. i hope you know who you are. and i offer you cookies, hugs, and well wishes for the year ahead 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

thank you guys for everything <3

[bomberqueen17]

Ahem. I saw you say that you should write a ficlet in response to hitting a follower milestone. May I suggest: Geralt/Roche fucking for the first time, because Geralt was around early enough to pick up on Roche/Foltest and I’m desperately curious to know Geralt’s impressions of that mess and the impression it left on Roche, sexually.

heh I screencapped this and stuck it into a doc with co-conspirator @akilah12902 and said

The followup ask made me think more about not their first time ever-ever but their first time post-ex-foltest which is far juicier

A answered: Oh definitely. I mean. To be fair, their first time was probably Geralt getting raped, even if nobody involved quite thought of it that way.

(Of course, I answered stele3's follow up ask privately so as not to spoil this uhhhh eventual surprise, and thus have no record of it, because that's how Tumblr rolls, so who knows, but I do have this record that the conversation occurred, for what it's worth. LOL.)

So anyway we wound up writing the first time Geralt and Roche fuck after Foltest gets assassinated, and it did turn out juicy, and what's more, it's the first of a pair of what accidentally became Witcher 2 Service Top Geralt: The Duology, just to tease at what else is forthcoming. @bittylildragon did the beta-reading on this one, but has done the bulk of the writing of the sequel, which deals with An Related Topic but not this exact thing, and in fact I'm not even sure I merit a coauthor credit at this point. But we shall see how that develops, it's still under steam. The immediate thing today is this one:

A Wake, on AO3

“I know you want me to hurt you,” Geralt said, “but I don’t want to do that.”

Roche’s eyes were so deep-set, his habitual expression so narrow-gazed, that it was always almost a shock when he went wide-eyed, which he tended to do in bed. He gazed up at Geralt, eyes dark as velvet, and said, “Why wouldn’t you?”

Geralt leaned his forehead down against Roche’s, letting the hand that was in his hair slide down to the base of the man’s skull, cradling his head. “Vernon,” he murmured. “Me hurting you won’t fix anything, it’ll only make me feel like shit.”

“You should feel like—” Roche started, but his voice cracked in the middle of the word.

“Will that fix anything?” Geralt said dryly.

“Nothing will fix anything,” was the answer, a little desperate and choked.

“No,” Geralt said, and bent to kiss him, steadfastly keeping it gentle.

(the bestworst part, if you want to think about it too hard, is that as you play Witcher 2, if you choose Iorveth's path, as we are for the purposes of this story continuity, then that means that like literally a couple of days after this Geralt throws Iorveth his sword and goes and defects from Roche's side to help the Scoia'tael, so just like-- really imagine that, as you're reading this, for extra flavor, and then going forward as you read the later encounters-- *chefkiss*.)

[silkling]

So I had a chat with @pastelpaperplanes, and got inspired to wrote this little scene set in the same AU as THIS piece I wrote for them. It takes place a couple years later, I’d like to think. If you haven’t read the first fic, I suggest you do since this one bounces directly off a lot of the concepts set up in that one. But for now, on with the show! (Hope you like it Pastel. It’s short but it’s a fun.) Also, this ficlet was loosely inspired by this piece Pastel drew of Sadie and OP.

———————————————————————————————————

The battle had been routine. Keyword: had. It had supposed to have been routine enough that Carrier and Starscream had felt comfortable enough sending their Heirs into it. But then partway through, comm chatter had picked up and Soundwave’s Cassettes were reporting that the Bots had lured them out here as a trap, and that they were looking for the two Decepticon Heirs.

The news had frozen Crusade in place, and Carrier had roared over the line for them and Prowl to get back to the drop ship and stay there, Starscream’s voice following shortly after to back the warlord up. They’d shaken themselves from their stupor and made to obey, when they’d been tackled from the side and before they could even think to struggle they were pinned on their back under a heavy pede with an axe held to their throat.

They looked up, optics blown wide, and saw Optimus Magnus standing over them with an equally stunned look. Oh. Oh no.

Carrier! They shrieked over the comms. Help!

Across the battlefield, Megatron’s helm snapped in the direction of his creation. Upon seeing the scene, he roared and lunged, only to be met with more Autobots coming to intercept him.

Above them, the Magnus’s face shifted, understanding lighting his optics. Primus. He knew who Crusade was. Still, he didn’t move to kill them, and they didn’t understand why.

But then it didn’t matter, because another mech was shoving the Magnus aside and taking his place, pinning Crusade under his own pede and pointing the sharp end of a lance at them.

“Optimus!” The mech spat. “I should have known you’d be too much of a coward to pull it off. If you won’t, then I’ll terminate Megatron’s spawn.” He smirked. “Who knows? They might even demote you and make me Magnus!”

And then he was lifting the lance to drive it through Crusade’s spark. They screwed their optics shut, ignoring the Magnus’s voice rising to call the mech back.

“Sentinel! Stop!”

They heard the lance whistle as it was driven down, and prepared for the end, but then there was a brief scuff to the side and the sound of thrusters activating for just a sparkbeat.

Their optics shot open, seeing the lance mere inches from their chest, but they also saw Prowl. He melted from the shadows as he always seemed to, and then he was tackling the mech–Sentinel, the Magnus had called him–away from Crusade.


The Seekerling clung to Sentinel’s face, pedes braced on his stomach as he quite literally tore into him. The mech screamed, so loud and long it caused the battle to pause around them, mechs from both factions stopping to see what was going on.

Crusade sat up, finding themselves staring as well. Around them, the Autobots seemed too stunned to react. Meanwhile, Blitzwing had collapsed on his back and was cackling as Prowl tore at the staggering Autobot, many other Decepticon sniggering and chortling at the scene as well.

Across the field, Crusade could see the sheer relief in their Carrier’s optics. A few paces a way, Optimus Magnus was frozen and staring open-mouthed. A few paces behind him, the old Magnus was also staring, though there was something odd about his expression Crusade couldn’t place.

They didn’t have long to ponder it though, because a thump drew their attention to where Sentinel had fallen to his aft while Prowl still ripped into his face and chest.

Thrusters sounded above them, and then Starscream was dropping from above. He reached out, grabbing his creation by the scruff bar and plucking him up.

“That’s quite enough now, flitterling.” He purred.

Off to the side, Optimus Magnus made a startled noise and a quick glance showed another bloom of realization before Crusade’s attention was brought back to the two Seekers.

Starscream looked amused, reaching for something in Prowl’s mouth. Wait. Was that-

It was.

A look to Sentinel showed that one of his finials was severely bent, and the other was missing entirely and currently clamped between Prowl’s fangs. In addition to that, one of the mech’s optics was gone, and Crusade could already see that the damage was deep and he was unlikely to recover vision in that optic. Ever. There was also a deep, bleeding gash cut into the other side of his face, from his forehelm to his chin. They knew the with damage that severe, and carved into his face, those wounds were going to permanently scar. Beyond the major damage though, there were also countless scratches marring his face, as well as…was that a bitemark on his cheek, under his missing optic?

Yep.

It definitely was.

A snarl from Prowl’s engine brought their attention to to their friend. Starscream was tugging on the removed finial, lips quirked.

“Let go.” He ordered. A growl and a refusal. “Flittering.” He paused, then his voice hardened. “Nightprowler.” Another pause, and Prowl released it.

Starscream tossed it to Sentinel, then turned to the Magnus, still holding Prowl up by the scruff bar. Optimus Magnus stood his ground, but his predecessor behind him didn’t. Ultra stepped back, and Prowl’s attention snapped to him. Both mechs went rigid, and the youngling made a sound Crusade had never heard before but recognized quickly as distress.

Starscream frowned at him in concern, then understanding dawned and he snapped his attention to Ultra. “You.” He snarled, his engine hissing and his armor rattling.

Crusade had never been scared of Starscream before, but in this moment, they felt fear freeze their limbs.

The Magnus clearly realized the danger, because he lunged, grabbing Sentinel and shoving him at Ultra, then spinning to hurry away from the furious Seeker.

“Autobots, retreat!” He roared, then transformed and drove away, his Bots following suit.

The Decepticons let them go, and soon enough it as just them on the battlefield. Prowl was set down, only for him to shuffle closer to his Carrier and press against him. Crusade felt a servo on their own scruff bar, and then they were hauled up and set on their pedes by Carrier.

Megatron’s voice crackled over the comms a moment later. Everyone, well done. Return to New Kaon. he ordered.

The Decepticons obeyed, and soon it was just the four of them left on the empty battlefield. Over their head, the two Carriers exchanged a look, and after a moment Megatron shifted his gaze down to Prowl.

“Thank you, little one.” he rumbled. “You saved my creation. For that, I’m grateful.”

Prowl didn’t respond, just leaning heavily into his Carrier and staring at the ground. Megatron didn’t seem to take it personally, just exchanging another look with Starscream. Crusade didn’t understand. They knew a little of what had happened to their friend when he’d been a sparkling, but they hadn’t been told everything. Prowl’s reaction to Ultra…was it something to do with why he’d had his wings clipped and his thrusters mutilated when they’d found him?

Starscream sighed, starting them from their thoughts. He crouched, then swept his creation into his arms instead of lifting him by the scruff. “Come now, flittering.” he cooed gently. “Let’s get you home.” Then he crouched and leapt up, thrusters activating as he rocketed away.

“Carrier…” Crusade hesitated. “What was that about?”

Megatron looked down at his creation, gaze somber. “It is not my place to say, little one.”

“Oh.” They were silent, then wrapped their arms around themselves.

They knew they shouldn’t be, but they were shaken from their near-death experience. Their frame shook faintly, the shock of it finally hitting their systems now that there were no more distractions. An arm wrapped around them and tugged them to their Carrier’s side, and they leaned into the larger frame.

“Carrier?”

“Yes?”

“I know I’m a bit big for it, but…do you think I could fly back with you?”

Megatron relaxed, chuckling. “I’d like nothing more, my little one.” he said.

Crusade let themselves be tugged up against the warlord, and their frame relaxed into the familiar embrace. All would be well, now. In the next moment, the two were gone, leaving behind the dusty, energon-stained dirt and the revelations that were sure to come back to bite them.

———————————————————————————————————

And that was what! What did y’all think? I think it was fun. Sentinel got his comeuppance, I tell you that. Now Starscream just needs to teach his feral gremlin child to NOT rip off body parts with his teeth and they’ll be golden!

Also, poor Sadie. The kid can’t catch a break. At least they’re not dead!

Until next time, folks!

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 20: Roller Coaster

Following the war, Hogwarts instated a new policy. Everyone (regardless of their upbringing) who attended the school would be required to take a Muggle Studies Course.

Muggle Studies was not terrible, much to Draco's surprise and relief. In fact, Draco found that he actually rather enjoyed it. Especially the classes on Fridays.

On Fridays the eighth years had no classes except for Muggle Studies in the afternoon and their Professor always took them somewhere fun. They'd been to a pub, a bowling alley, a movie theater (Draco had especially enjoyed that one), a fancy restaurant, a few cafes, art museums and history museums, they went to see parliament, and Big Ben, and even a place called a 'science center'.

Today they were going to a muggle amusement park.

Potter (his assigned partner since he'd been raised by muggles) found him in the crowd once they arrived. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Draco replied, raising a hand to shade his eyes.

"Where should we start?" Potter asked, nodding to the expanse of oddities in front of them.

"Umm," Draco said, shading his eyes once more to look around, seeing only unfamiliar things.

"Come on," Potter said, apparently making the decision for them. "I think you need some sunglasses first."

(Read more below the cut)

Potter tugged him over to a stand off to the corner where they bickered about which sunglasses suited Draco best before finally agreeing on a pair of wayfarers with pink frames. The other boy's smile and encouragement were enough for Draco to slip them on.

"Very handsome," Potter said and Draco could feel his cheeks heat under the praise. Fortunately, Potter seemed not to notice as he turned to pay for the sunglasses.

After that they wandered around, Potter took him on a carousel, then down a giant slide that they had to climb into burlap sacks for, before dragging him over to the carnival games.

"Here," Potter said, paying the man at a booth and taking six ping pong balls from him. "You just have to sink them in the fish bowls and you win a prize."

"That hardly seems difficult," Draco replied.

The man behind the booth snorted, "Good luck, kid."

"Would you like to go first?" Harry offered.

Draco nodded and squared his shoulders before tossing the first ball. It pinged off multiple bowls before falling to the ground in between. "What?!"

"It's okay," Potter said, "try again. If you get two in, you still win a small prize."

"Right," Draco said, blowing out a breath and focusing. He tossed the ball more gently this time and it bounced once before sinking into one of the bowls. "Hah!" Draco shouted triumphantly.

"Good job," Potter replied, and there was a time when those words would have been tainted and sarcastic, but the two of them were long past that at this point. He knew the other boy was simply genuinely happy for him.

"Alright," Draco said, "Last chance little ball." He nodded once and tossed this one as well, it bounced once, twice, three times, before catching the rim of one of the bowls at an odd angle and flying off.

"Better luck next time," the man said. "You're up specs."

Potter nodded, let out a little huff of breath and tossed them right in a row; one and two sunk straight in, the third bounced once before sinking into a third fish bowl.

Draco's jaw dropped and he looked over to see that the man behind the booth looked equally stunned.

"Plushy unicorn or dragon?" Potter asked him.

"What?"

"Unicorn or Dragon?" he prompted.

"Dragon," Draco replied without real thought.

Potter nodded, "We'd like the blue dragon, please."

The man grabbed the dragon and handed it over to Potter, "That was well done."

"Thanks," Potter replied before turning and handing the dragon over to Draco. "For you."

"For me?"

Potter nodded and stuffed it into Draco's arms before walking off, "Come on," he called over his shoulder, "Roller coaster next."

It took Draco a moment to catch up with him, "Why did you give this to me?"

The other boy looked over at him and shoved his glasses up on his nose, "Do you not want it?" he asked, reaching for it.

"No," he said, turning away so he couldn't take her, "I want her."

"Alright then."

It wasn't really an answer but he didn't want Potter to take the delightfully soft and fluffy dragon from him so he kept quiet and mulled over the possible reasons. Pansy would say that Potter liked him, too, but Pansy was gay so he didn't trust what she had to say about boys.

Potter led him over to a tall, monstrous metal contraption and Draco watched with a small amount of horror as the muggles riding it were sent speeding off as they screamed bloody murder.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

Potter glanced over, "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like riding a broom," he added soft enough for only Draco to hear.

"Sure if someone else were in control of it!" Draco hissed.

"That's part of the appeal," Potter said as he stepped into line and tugged Draco after him. "Letting go, just flying without the work."

"You're insane."

"We'll see," Potter replied with a shrug and a secret little smile at the corner of his mouth that made his dimple show.

Draco waited, his heart pounding, palms sweating, as he got closer and closer to the front of the line. "Are you sure about this?"

"As sure as I am about anything," Potter replied with a sardonic grin.

They stepped up to the front of the line and the man told him, "You'll need to leave your dragon here."

"Might as well leave your sunglasses, too," Potter said, "wouldn't want those to go flying off," he added with a wink. A wink. And Draco was so off kilter that he did as Potter suggested before he climbed into the seat next to him.

The lap bar was pulled down and secured, "Potter," he started, sure that it wasn't healthy for your heart to beat this fast.

"It's okay," Potter assured. He'd taken his glasses off and folded them over the collar of his shirt.

"But-"

"Draco," the other boy said, turning to look at him and putting his hand over Draco's. "Seriously. No one has ever died from riding on this roller coaster."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked but it was too late, the roller coaster was already starting to pull them upwards.

"98%," Potter called.

"What?" he asked, trying to make sense of his words over the pounding in his ears and the rush of adrenaline he was experiencing.

"I'm 98% sure no one has ever died on this roller coaster."

It was not really the answer he'd wanted to hear. He opened his mouth to reply but the cart tipped over the top of the first hill and his words turned into a scream, one of his hand's clenching the lap bar, the other crushing Harry's.

He screamed as they were dropped and flipped, as the cart whipped around corners and he was knocked into Harry and Harry into him, all the while his heart racing. And Harry was right, it was a lot like flying but without the predictability.

As the roller coaster glided to a stop, Draco couldn't help but laugh; he felt lighter than air, freer than he could remember feeling in a long time. He turned grinning at Harry, "That was amazing."

"Yeah," Harry replied, giving his hand a little squeeze.

"Oh," Draco said, looking down at where he was still clenching the other boy's hand. "Sorry-"

"I'm not," Harry replied softly, a little shy.

"Please exit the cart, lovebirds," the man running the ride called. "We have other people waiting."

"Right, sorry," Harry apologized and he clambered out before holding out a hand for Draco to take.

Hand in hand, they made their way around to collect the dragon and Draco's sunglasses. "Where to next?" Draco asked, smiling so widely that it made his face hurt.

Harry swung their hands between them as he replied, "As long as it's with you, it doesn't matter."

Day 19: Ice Skating | Day 21: Scars

Thanks so much @gaygirldrarryblog for the prompt! I hope you enjoyed this little ficlet! <3

[neonponders]

Read this ficlet and am thinking about tattoo artist!Steve.

Billy’s first thought: intern. The guy has too much naked skin to be an established tattoo artist. Billy had been flipping through the flash book, mostly just to get a read on the new tattoo shop in town.

Except the flash selection was really good. And the decor wasn’t like any other tattoo parlor. Most places have solid-colored walls nearly covered with flash sheets, or art prints so old they’ve faded beyond caring.

This place had plants. Like....lots of plants. Lots of natural lighting coming through the front windows, which made the place more approachable than a shady, blocked out storefront. Clean, light wooded floors. Freshly painted, white baseboards that gleamed in the light. Thrifted Tiffany knock-off lamps that added color to the place that was otherwise green, white, and wood themed.

Like a spa or something. The Orchid Parlor.

The whole place was a long rectangle, and one of the longer sides had been painted into an accent wall of....elephant ear plants? Billy didn’t know plants, all right. But he knew good art when he saw it, and a pretty face even better.

“Are you one of the artists?” he asked, peeking up from the pages of stylized flowers and Japanese/Korean fusion pieces.

“Yeah. And one of the owners,” he declared jovially. “We’re having a grand opening bash this weekend if you want to come? All flash proceeds will be going to charity.”

That sounded...great. “Aren’t the first three years of a business the hardest? That’s really generous of you.”

The guy tilted his weight onto one leg while he shrugged behind the counter. “We have a good financial backer for our first year. My goal isn’t really financial success.”

Billy had to guffaw at that. “Does your backer know that?”

“My dad has low expectations, so anything I do is a step up.”

Oh.

“Oh. Sorry.”

He smiled kindly. “It’s okay. But seriously, if you see something you like - this is my book, but my partner’s is right here - and if you see something you like, come by on Saturday. There’ll be food and music - and a line, probably, so I’d suggest coming a half hour early.”

“Partner,” Billy singled out on. “Where are they? You’re managing opening week alone?”

The guy rolled his big brown eyes at the ceiling. “Her lesbian lover had some catastrophe and she had to rush out of here. She’s been trying to surprise Robin for weeks with adopting a chinchilla. She could only really do it if Robin was too busy with our shop, so...”

He nodded, those arching brunette tresses bobbing over his forehead. Billy felt his features soften with intrigued warmth. “And you? No gay lovers to surprise you with pets?”

He laughed - win for Billy. Nice smile too.

“No. I’ve been single for a while now. But I wouldn’t suggest getting a tattoo just to flirt with me.”

“Hmm,” Billy hummed to himself. “What’s the charity?”

The man tilted his head as if the charity operated right next door. “The Upside Down Hostel on 31st street. It’s a safe house for queer kids.”

The flirtatious warmth melted off of Billy’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here Saturday.”

The owner reached for the stack of fliers as well as the little display of business cards. He wrote something on the back of the flier, stapled the card to it, and passed it to Billy. “I look forward to seeing you. Do you have dietary stuff?”

Billy looked up from the card reading Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington. “Stuff?”

“Vegan. Celiac. Allergies.”

“Oh. No. I don’t do a lot of dairy, though.”

“That’s fine. We’re getting an unreasonable amount of vegan doughnuts and dim sum. I can hold onto your favorite flavor so you won’t have to fight anybody.”

Billy laughed and appreciated that Steve had noticed his hard work under his tank top. “Maple glazed. I’ll hold you to that.”

“You don’t get to cut in line, though.”

“Oh, well then there’s no point.”

They shared a moment of laughter, finished with Billy tapping his paper goodies on the counter. “Saturday, then.”

“Wait, what’s your name?”

“Billy,” he held his hand over the counter, and Steve shook... “Hargrove.”

The long stem of an orchid peeked out of Steve’s t-shirt, tucked inside his bicep. The upside down orchids were black with pink highlights, curving back underneath his tricep and sleeve.

“Steve. Nice to meet you, Billy.”

Before he left, Billy ventured, “Can I ask...why all the plants?”

“I’m claustrophobic, but not as much around plants. Cubicles are...not an option for me, but a wall of plants gives clients the privacy they need and I can hold a needle steady.”

“And if I were to bring a drink to keep my artist going, what would that be?”

“Are you expecting me to answer cactus juice?”

“Are you really going to send me to the most expensive grocery store in town so I can bribe my way into flirting with you?”

Steve laughed. “No, just a flat white with oat milk. Or a passion fruit lemonade. Or -”

“I’m leaving,” Billy sassed on his way to the door. “See you on Saturday, pretty boy.”

[thnxforknowingme]

The Feeling's Plain to Me (13/14)

Summary: Ficlets set in the same ‘verse as It’s Who I’m With. What did Kurt and Blaine get up to in between Christmas and St. Patrick’s Day? (for the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge 2022)

Rating: T

Notes: I really liked this song and the mood/idea that it inspired. Maybe it's a bit ooc that Blaine would be concerned about what people thought of them bursting into song in public, but this 'verse tends to be a little more grounded in reality than canon.

I'm going out of town for the night, but should still be getting the final chapter up by the end of the day tomorrow. Thank you all for reading, and have a lovely galentine's/Valentine's day!

Read previous parts | Read on AO3

13: End Up With You - Carrie Underwood

February 18

“It’s cold,” Blaine complained, jamming his hands deeper into his coat pockets as they walked.

“Then let’s walk faster,” Kurt suggested, stepping around a fire hydrant. “Or I can give you my scarf.”

“No,” Blaine grumbled. “Then you’d be too cold.”

Blaine knew that he was being snippy, but he couldn’t help it. He was cold, and tired, and annoyed, and he could feel a post-liquor headache beginning to form.

It had started out as a nice night, meeting Kurt after work and getting drinks at a pub not far from Blaine’s apartment. But a long week full of minor frustrations was catching up with him, and by the time they’d decided to head home he was deeply looking forward to getting into bed and cuddling up against Kurt to fall asleep.

When they’d reached his building, though, Blaine had searched his pockets and discovered he didn’t have his keys on him. He slumped against the icy surface of the building’s front door, miserable that this paltry pane of glass was standing between him and his comfortable bed.

Kurt had called the bar, and thankfully Blaine’s keys had been found on the floor under the stools where they’d been sitting. This still meant they had to walk through the freezing late-night air to retrieve the keys, though.

“I could keep you warm,” Kurt said playfully, stepping behind Blaine so he could wrap his arms around his waist. Blaine felt Kurt’s breath on the side of his face as Kurt rested his chin on Blaine’s shoulder. “How’s that?”

“Now we’re going too slow,” Blaine argued, trying not to tangle his legs in Kurts’.

Kurt pulled back, allowing them to walk more freely, but kept one palm on Blaine’s back. “You’re in a bad mood.”

Blaine swallowed back the urge to say duh, because the only way to make this night worse would be if he started a fight with his boyfriend. “Yeah,” he managed to say instead.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said gently.

They reached an intersection and paused to check for cars before crossing the street. On the other side they passed by a dive bar just as the door was opening to let a group of people out. Over the sound of chatter inside, they could hear staticky music playing: “...I’m sure you’ve heard it all before but you never really had a doubt…”

Kurt laughed as they shifted to the edge of the sidewalk to let the bar patrons pass. He nudged Blaine slightly with his elbow and said, “come on, even Oasis won’t make you crack a smile?”

Blaine hunched his shoulders forward and made a noncommittal noise. His limbs felt heavy and stiff, and the air stung his eyes.

They’d walked several yards in silence when Kurt began to sing. “And all the roads we have to walk are winding.”

“Kurt,” Blaine muttered.

Kurt ignored him. “And all the lights that lead us there are blinding,” he sang. He wasn’t being very loud, but singing on a dark, public street still made them stand out.

“People are going to think you’re crazy,” he tried to say, but Kurt just kept singing over his words.

“There are many things that I would like to say to you,” he sang, spinning around to walk backwards so that he was facing Blaine. He gestured widely as he went on: “but I don’t know how!”

Blaine could feel a smile tugging at his lips, an infectious warmth pushing away at his irritation.

“I said maybe!” Kurt belted, throwing his head back. Blaine couldn’t help but laugh, seeing his talented, ridiculous, perfect boyfriend put on this dramatic performance for him and any random passers-by. “You’re gonna be the one that saves me!”

Finally, Blaine joined in to loudly sing along. “And after all! You’re my wonderwall!”

Kurt beamed at him when he started singing, and held out his hand. Blaine grabbed it, and they stayed connected as they continued down the street, singing the second verse and paying no mind to the odd looks they got from anyone they passed. By the time they finished the song they were both out of breath, stumbling and clutching their ribs as they laughed. They’d reached the pub, and Kurt paused to lean against a streetlamp as he caught his breath.

“Thank you,” Blaine said. He was still tired, and it was still cold, but his bad mood had evaporated completely.

“Of course,” Kurt said, leaning in for a brief kiss, their lips chill against each other. “Glad I could help.”

They went inside and quickly acquired Blaine’s keys, thanking the bartender profusely. On the walk back to Blaine’s apartment he held Kurt’s hand, not caring that it was colder than keeping his hand in his pocket. He didn’t know what the morning would bring, or what new annoyance he might be faced with next. He knew that things wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows, for himself or for his relationship with Kurt. But he also felt sure, in this moment, that every aggravation would be that much easier with Kurt there, to commiserate with him or cheer him up.

When they finally got into Blaine’s apartment and went to sleep wrapped up together, his bed felt that much more comfortable and warm for the extra trouble it had taken to get there.

[stolen-pen-name23]

Yay Prompts! :D Congratulations again Katie! It was really hard to choose between them, but I decided on 12. “It reminded me of you.” for Obi-Wan and Anakin during the early years of their Padawan & Master time. (maybe with Obi-Wan bringing something back from a mission?) Thank you! <3

Ahhh thank you for the prompt! I love it! // from these prompts

So this is the spiritual sequel to this ficlet, but you don't need to read it to understand it. Here ya go!

---

It is the middle of the night on Coruscant and Obi-Wan is wide awake.

For once, he is not being kept awake by his own thoughts or anxieties. This time around, Obi-Wan is awake because his ship has just landed in the temple hangar after returning from Alderaan where the time is currently mid-day. Obi-Wan’s body believes it is time to go get a mid-day meal, but he resists the urge. He knows he needs to get adjusted to Coruscant time sooner rather than later — especially with a rambunctious padawan on his hands.

Obi-Wan smiles at the thought of seeing Anakin. They’ve been apart for two weeks now, and while Anakin has gotten more used to Obi-Wan going on solo missions every now and then, he still didn’t like it. Whenever Obi-Wan returned from his missions alone, Anakin tended to act even clingier than normal for a few days. Not that Obi-Wan minded too much.

He missed Anakin too.

He hopes Anakin isn’t too angry with him. Obi-Wan was supposed to be back at the temple in the afternoon, but he had slept through his alarms on Alderaan — his body exhausted from two weeks of travel and negotiations and pretending like he enjoyed the company of the politicians around him. Still, he can’t help but feel a little bad about his tardiness.

A spring bounds itself to Obi-Wan’s steps and he rolls his eyes at his own energy. Of course the one time he’s well-rested, he’s adjusted to the wrong time zone. A group of nocturnal Jedi conversing together in the hallway stare at him as he passes them by. He offers them a wave and ignores their questioning stares.

Despite his unexpected energy, he is relieved when he gets to his apartment. While Obi-Wan loves to travel beyond the smog-saturated atmosphere of Coruscant, he is always most content within the walls of the temple.

Quietly, he waves open the front door and takes soft steps through the foyer. With a flick of his wrist, a lamp switches on, bathing the entire living room in a warm glow and revealing golden hair peeking out of a bundle of blankets.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan questions in surprise. “What are you doing on the couch? It’s the middle of the night. Why aren’t you sleeping in your own room?”

Anakin blinks at him tiredly. The childish part of Obi-Wan that still remains can’t help but feel some sort of smug satisfaction at being the one to wake up Anakin for once. Normally, Anakin is the one hell-bent on keeping Obi-Wan awake. But the feeling does not last when he gets a closer look at his padawan. Flushed cheeks, unfocused gaze, sweat-soaked hair. Obi-Wan kneels down next to Anakin.

“Hey,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Are you feeling okay?”

Anakin shakes his head no.

Obi-Wan grimaces. “You should be resting in your room. What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you. You’re late.”

Guilt swells in Obi-Wan’s chest. He rests his hand on Anakin’s forehead and winces at the heat.

“That’s a pretty bad fever,” Obi-Wan murmurs more to himself than to Anakin. He moves his hand down to cup Anakin’s cheek and the boy leans into the touch. “I thought Master Plo was supposed to be checking on you twice a day?”

“He was. He came by this morning. I felt fine this morning.”

“And not this afternoon?”

“You were supposed to be here this afternoon,” Anakin states, blinking big puppy dog eyes up at him. The sticky feeling of guilt intensifies.

“Why didn’t you call for Master Plo? He would have come back and helped you.”

“I thought you were coming.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan sighs. “And I’m really sorry. But I’m here now okay? I can take care of you now.”

Anakin nods. “Okay.”

Obi-Wan gets up and starts rooting around the kitchen. “I should make you some soup. When was the last time you ate? I bet you haven’t eaten today. Oh Force we have nothing here. Okay, okay let me go find you something, and then we can—”

“Master,” Anakin says, cutting him off from his ramblings. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you start thinking out loud.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says sheepishly. “Well, have you eaten?”

“I ate this morning.”

“That was a long time ago,” Obi-Wan says. “I think.”

“Don’t care. Not hungry. Don’t feel good.”

“You might feel better with something in your stomach,” Obi-Wan suggests.

“Don’t think so. And isn’t it the middle of the night? No one eats in the middle of the night. It’s not a meal time.”

“Time is made up.”

“What?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. Maybe now is not the best time to bring up his existential musings. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m still on Alderaan time. It’s throwing me off.”

Anakin narrows his eyes at him and shakes his head. “I don’t want any soup,” he declares.

Obi-Wan sighs. “Fine. But I’m making ginger tea and you will drink it.”

“Ugh,” Anakin grimaces. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t care.”

Obi-Wan begins making the tea, his hands going through the motions on their own accord while his thoughts linger on Anakin. He was only a few hours late. Still. Guilt continues to coil around him like a snake. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s distress still clinging to his Force presence. He was probably scared and he was definitely disappointed. Obi-Wan frowns at the thought.

The high-pitched whistle from the kettle makes him shake those thoughts away. He brews the tea and returns to the couch to find Anakin half-asleep and shivering.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “Let’s get you to your actual bed. It will be warmer there.”

Anakin nods but makes no move to get up.

“Come on, Padawan,” Obi-Wan says, setting the tea down on the side table. He pulls the blankets off of Anakin and he shivers even more.

Obi-Wan guides Anakin to his bedroom and he slides into bed. Obi-Wan starts to pull the blankets up over him, but the Anakin pulls them away on his own. “I can do it,” he says sharply.

“Oh, can you now?” Obi-Wan says with a raised eyebrow.

Anakin huffs in reply, already tangling himself up in the sheets.

“Are you still mad at me?” Obi-Wan asks.

Anakin gives a petulant nod and it takes everything in Obi-Wan to smother his laughter.

“That’s too bad. I got you something while I was gone.”

Anakin perks up slightly. “You got me something?”

“Mhmm,” Obi-Wan hums. “But since you’re so mad at me, I know you probably won’t want to accept any gifts from me, so I’ll just hold onto it.”

“Wait,” Anakin says, sitting up. “I’m not that mad.”

“Oh really?” Obi-Wan teases. “You can forgive me for all my transgressions?”

“Some of them,” Anakin says tentatively.

“I guess that will have to do for now, huh?” Obi-Wan says as he digs through his robe.

Anakin nods his assent and watches Obi-Wan with bright eyes.

“Do you remember a few weeks ago when you brought home that loth cat?”

Anakin perks up even more. “Did you get me a loth cat?”

Obi-Wan cringes. He probably shouldn’t have led with that. “Kind of,” he says.

Obi-Wan presents the stuffed loth cat he picked up on Alderaan to Anakin and the boy’s eyes light up.

“Thank you, Master!” Anakin says, giddy with excitement at the prospect of being given a gift. He probably hasn’t received too many gifts in his life, Obi-Wan thinks a little sadly.

“You’re most welcome, Anakin.”

“Why did you get this for me?” he asks, his eyes not leaving the stuffed animal.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan falters. “I saw it and it reminded me of you.”

Anakin pulls his eyes away from the loth cat to give Obi-Wan a disbelieving look. “Really?”

“Really.”

At that, Anakin jumps forward and throws his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan smiles at the reaction, but worry creeps back in when he can feel the heat still emanating from Anakin’s body.

“I’m glad you like it,” Obi-Wan says. “But I think this is enough excitement for one night. You need to get some sleep if you want that fever to go down.”

“I’m not tired.”

Obi-Wan sees the lie for what it is, but he indulges him anyway.

“Well then, why don’t you lay down, and maybe you’ll start to feel tired?”

“I don’t think I will, Master,” Anakin says, even as he starts to settle back into bed. He lets Obi-Wan pull the blankets over him this time. The stuffed loth cat is held tightly in his arms.

“Wait here then. I’ll go get you your tea.”

Anakin groans. “I don’t want it.”

“It will make you fall asleep,” Obi-Wan insists. He ignores Anakin’s protests as he ducks out of the room and finds his way back to the living room where he left the tea.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan groans to himself as he notices for the first time all the droid parts littering the floor and the coffee table. He takes a moment to straighten everything out before grabbing the mug of tea and heading back to Anakin’s room.

“Now, I know you don’t like it, but I promise it will—” Obi-Wan cuts himself off when his eyes land on the form of his Padawan. His breaths have evened out and his eyes are closed. The blankets are pulled up to his shoulders and the stuffed loth cat is nestled under his chin.

Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, smiling softly and sipping on lukewarm tea.