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fictionandfixation · 2 months

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Older Bachelor headcanons!

Older Bachelor stardew headcanons because I’ve been playing lots recently! All sfw, some mentions of smoking/alcohol 💕 also please bear in mind I am no SDV expert, so sorry if these go against canon occasionally!

Harvey ☕️🔬📚

• Secret smoking habit that he would rather die than tell anyone about. Not often, but during flu season when he’s stressed, you can find him cooped up in his room with an imported cigar or a Marlboro Gold, an espresso and an Agatha Christie.

• Plays classic soul, funk, golden oldies and jazz in the foyer of the clinic on an old-timey record player, and chooses every day from his large record collection. Frequently irritates Maru with the extent of his Doris Day enjoyment.

• Kind of wide-set - very broad shoulders, and quite tall.

• Packets of salted peanuts and cookies on the clinic foyer desk which he restocks every week.

• Goes to fetch you personally from the mines or Skull Cavern sometimes when you get knocked out. And he also keeps a vintage forest green car behind the clinic to pick you up in. He hopes one day you’ll wake up on the way back and compliment his tasteful vehicle choice or notice he’s bringing you home. You don’t.

• Best friends with Evelyn. Worst enemies with George.

• Tennis player. Plays with whoever will say yes in the mountains and always manages to punt the ball into the lake somehow. Also used to be in a rock climbing club at university, and has sort of sinewy forearms as a result.

• Outrageous flirt after a few glasses of Pinot Noir, mostly because I think he’s on the spectrum but also because I think it would help him stop being quite so nervous.

• Brown suspenders. Every. Single. Day.

• Gives Jas and Vincent candy after their checkup.

• “Sweetheart/honey” as a nickname for you.

Elliott 📜🖋️🐚

• Striped. Matching. Pajamas.

• Finds, forages and cooks mussels when he needs to impress someone. And on that note, very much a French cuisine enjoyer.

• If blue cheese has no fans Elliott is dead.

• Rizz master. Silver tongue. Read so much romance when he was a teenager that it has actively become a part of his personality to be a book boyfriend.

• Very willowy and slender. Metabolism of the gods. Puts away food like it’s nobody’s business.

• Can read several languages, but just can’t master an accent so never uses them in a spoken context. Definitely a student of Latin.

• English accent headcanon! Probably spent the first couple of decades of his life in somewhere high-income like Warwickshire, or (more likely) Cornwall or Exeter, on or near the coast. I am also envisioning him as having been to an old collegiate university like Durham, or maybe a college at Oxford (Merton I reckon).

• Writes and then burns poems about everyone he’s ever been in love with. Starts keeping them when he meets you.

• Chats fashion history with Emily and Haley.

• Religious about his collection of cravat-style ties because he’s seen the Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice a few too many times.

• Frequent book club gatherings with Caroline, Marnie, Robin and Jodi (mostly because mothers love him, the main selling point here being that he has definitely read at least one Jodi Picoult book. He does not remember anything about it, he’s just glad to be invited).

“Dearest/my love” as a pet name.

Shane 🍺🍕🐓

• Snores. Very quiet about it though.

• I know a lot of people HC Harvey as oldest but I reckon it’s Shane. He also acts the most like a bitter old man whereas I feel Harvey is just ‘mature’.

• Could be convinced to grow a beard. Maybe.

• Goes for a jog three times a week. Hates it. Refuses to stop and really isn’t even sure why he does it himself any more.

• Secret Lana Del Rey enjoyer. Mainly a fan of Midwest emo, classic rock, nu metal and sometimes country but the kind of country where they sing about killing people and getting away with it.

• Raised by heavily Christian parents in the Deep South. Yes this is a Southern accent headcanon. Yeehaw.

• Lets Jas put eyeshadow on him sometimes. Shaves properly only when she wants to put makeup on him.

• Craft beer’s number one opp. Wants an ice cold tap Budweiser only, and if there isn’t enough head on it he will be asking for a refund. Not that Gus would ever do that to him.

• Has muscle with padding. Very strong, very wide in stature, but not lean at all. Biceps wider than your neck that you could (and would) use as pillows.

• Makes the most insane hangover breakfast known to man. Bacon. Pancakes. Sausage. Home fries. Butter. Syrup. You’re putting on a bit of healthy relationship weight for sure with Shane as your partner.

• “Darlin’/baby” user. “Sweet cheeks” as a joke. Kind of a joke.

Hope you guys enjoyed these!! I am down irretrievable for Older Bachelor content because I love ✨older men✨

Please let me know if you’d like some more for these characters or the other bachelors and bachelorettes!

#sdv #sdv elliott #sdv shane #sdv Harvey #stardew #stardew valley #stardew bachelors #sdv older bachelors #imagines #imagine #stardew valley imagine

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 17 days

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Law Reader x Record of Ragnarok

Where they fight in Ragnarok and stun many with their powers.

And Corazaon, I forgot how to spell his name-, is in the Audience as well-

-Bepo was snoring quietly behind you as you were leaning against him, your hat pulled over your eyes, as you were relaxing for a short while, preparing in advance for your battle.

-Brunnhilde asked you to fight for humanity in Ragnarok, to ensure humanities’ salvation, and while at first you weren’t going to accept, because you had questioned what humanity had done for you, thinking back to your childhood when you were still alive.

-However, when Corazon, who had been walking over to meet up with you and the rest of your crew, slipping on nothing and falling backwards and somehow set himself on fire, you agreed to fight, as you didn’t want to lose those you were closest to, not again.

-Now backstage, waiting for your turn, only Bepo was with you, serving as your pillow, but also as your security blanket, keeping you calm. You had faith in your skills and abilities, especially after Brunnhilde told you that your abilities with your Devil Fruit could be used, since it was a part of you when you died, so you knew that you were going to win, but there was always a chance, and that had you a bit nervous.

-When it was time, Bepo hugged you, not wanting you to go, but you just smiled, “I’ve got this- go join Cora-san and the others.” He sniffled softly, agreeing to your command and he headed off as you headed out into the arena.

-You were different than the warriors who came before you, you didn’t seem as jacked as many of them were, despite the long sword you held to your shoulder and your cocky but mysterious looking smile on your lips.

-Your opponent was arrogant and rude, reminding you a bit of men you had met in the past, as he laughed at you, thinking you were a weakling due to your smaller size compared to other competitors.

-You weren’t bothered, a soft chuckle leaving you while you heard Bepo, Cora-san and the others all shouting behind you, being irate for you, calling your opponent names. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at their antics.

-When the match started, you smirked, holding your free hand out in front of you, “Room!” a dome appeared around the two of you as many shouted, wondering what it was before you quickly charged, drawing your sword and sliced through your opponent, but there was no blood, and he wasn’t dead.

-your crew cheered as you tossed your opponent’s head up and down like a ball, making him yell, “What the hell did you do? Put my body back together and fight me like a warrior!!”

-You did as he asked, reforming his body before you were quickly on him, not giving him a chance as a smirk appeared on your face, “I’m a pirate- not a warrior.” Before you took his head from his shoulders, the correct way this time.

-Your crew cheered loudly, and you rolled your eyes as Cora-san slipped and fell into the arena, landing hard and you came over to help him up, dragging him backstage to patch him up again.

-Zeus was furious at the outcome, seeing the ability you used, and tried to dispute the result with Brunnhilde, who provided him proof that your Devil Fruit ability was something you had when you died and ascended to Valhalla- it was legal as it was a part of you.

-While your crew was celebrating in your waiting room, with you just nursing a mug of booze, being held in Bepo’s arms, the tournament came to a standstill as they had to go over the rules on what was allowed or not, but that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying your drink and the antics of your crew.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #one piece law #one piece bepo #one piece corazon

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judeslove · 10 months

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prank

pairing - jude bellingham x fem!reader genre - fluff warnings - swearing, petnames (babe, darling, etc), intended lowercase

”hello everyone! in todays video i’m going to be pranking jude. he’s sleeping at the moment so i’m trying to be quiet” you whispered to the camera as you introduced your plan.

“so for the prank, i’m just gonna do a full face of makeup on him and see his reaction! i’m not sure how it will go as he is sleeping but he is a heavy sleeper so fingers crossed” you spoke quietly as you crossed your fingers to the camera.

loud snoring was heard in the background as you were setting up the makeup products. after you set them up you pressed “record”.

“i’m going to start with the primer to make it sticky. now i’m going to just do the full makeup and show it to you” you said as you put your hand on the camera lens attempting to do a transition.

you slowly lifted your hand from the lens, completing the transition. you showed the makeup, holding the camera over his face.

“wow i’m pretty impressed. would smash not gonna lie” you joked.

the camera was set up somewhere else so he wouldn’t be suspicious. after a while of waiting he finally woke up.

“finally you woke up. i’ve been waiting for like an eternity” you lied as he pressed his lips against yours.

his face had a hint of disgust. “babe did you do something to my face?” he curiously asked as he made his way to your vanity.

you ran to grab the camera and started recording him. he gasped loudly and started at himself.

“what the hell. did you do this?” jude questioned while pointing at his face. you let out a small chuckle while nodding. he stomped to you with a sarcastic mad face. upon seeing the camera his face softened.

“is it a prank darling?” jude asked.

“yes. you look absolutely gorgeous. i’d smash” you admitted while earning a nudge on your shoulder.

“you’re helping me wash this off” he mumbled to your while pouting. you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

💌 judeslove on tumblr.

#🤍#judeslove #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #football x you #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football #jude bellingham fluff #football fluff #fluff #tumblr fyp #viral #trendy

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chaotic-mystery · 1 year

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Pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

Summary: The next morning you wake up confused about the previous night. You have to start making your life better, and doing tequila shots the first night home didn’t help.

Content warnings: eventual smut, 18+ only mdni!, eventual smut, mean Joel, enemies to lovers, daddy issues galore, swearing, hangovers, red thongs trying to be stolen, reader tried to smack Joel but that didn’t end good, Joel was nice for like 2 seconds, then mean Joel came out.

Word Count: 3.3K

A/N: Thank you all for the patience with me on this! I’m so ready to continue and show you were this is going. I love you. Enjoy 🖤

With the morning sun pouring into your small bedroom window, you felt a leg under yours, brows furrowed at the spare body parts. Fuck. What did I do last night? You lift your head and turn it to the right, noticing the messy head of black curls and suddenly your eyes go wide. Tommy. Did I fuck Tommy last night? Soft snores came from his body while he lay there completely unaware of your internal panicking.

Tucking in your arms under you to give you a boost up and out of bed, Tommy rolls over and grabs the pillow, suffocating it between his arms and chest. As you stand there with your hand covering your mouth, you wondered just how you got yourself into this mess. Maybe it was the tequila shots, maybe it wasn’t. Who’s to say?

It was in fact, the tequila shots.

How could you have been so careless, having sex with the second good looking guy you laid eyes on the moment you got back home. First, first good looking guy you laid your eyes on.

The bathroom door closes behind you and you press your back against it, mind racing at how to handle this whole situation. Your feet tapped against the cold tile as you paced back and forth.

What were you going to tell Tommy when he woke up thinking you wanted to be something, expecting to be a regular sleeper in your bed?

Your hand covers your mouth in disbelief. What the fuck am I gonna do?

A deep breath enters your lungs as a boost of confidence that you can be straightforward with him about this. I’ve got this. You grab the doorknob and turn it to open the door, head poking out first to find Tommy still snoring away. He didn’t move one bit. Lightly tapping his shoulder, you grew impatient at the efforts going to waste. This wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to go job hunting today, like you promised yourself you would.

With your bunny slippers trampling through the damp grass to Joel’s front door, you adjusted and tightened your robe only about a million times to make sure nothing was showing or sticking out. It was already 9:33 A.M, surely Joel has been awake for hours, right? He’s an older man and they are always up early for who fucking knows what. With your hand switching from beating on the door and ringing the doorbell, someone was bound to answer. The front door flies open to a very grumpy looking Joel, yanking down the rest of his shirt to cover his abdomen.

“Can you please come get your brother from my bed? I need to go job hunting today and he isn’t waking up. It may have something to do with the tequila shots.” You scratched the back of your neck, too embarrassed to look at him.

A scoff leaves his lips and he shakes his head slowly. “Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. Talk to me all crazy n’ shit last night but now you need my help for your benefit? And for the record, I don’t doubt he’s still sleeping. I fuckin’ heard you two going at it all night after I specifically told you not to keep me up all night. So no, I’m not helping. See ya.” The door was just about closed when you put your hand between it and the door frame to make Joel choose whether or not he wanted to crush your hand.

“Move. Your hand.” His nostrils flared slightly, his eyes shooting daggers into you.

“No. Come get your brother or I’ll make being my neighbor a living hell for you.” No more jokes, no more bullshit was coming from you. If you didn’t find a job soon, you’d just be giving your dad more ammunition to use in the future when he talks about how disappointed he is with you.

Joel’s fingers tapped against the door while he contemplated if he wanted to get roped into this or not. “I swear to fuckin’ god little girl, this better be the first and last time I’m gonna have to do this. Don’t drag him into your shit.” With one swift move he was walking down the porch steps on his way to your bedroom, muttering some bullshit under his breath. When he reaches your room he notices the door slightly shut and he looks to you to tell him to go in. “He’s not..naked…is he?” He whispers to you.

“Not that I’m aware of…but now that you mention it I don't remember honestly.” You whispered back, staring at the ground.

The amount of restraint Joel had to use to not shout at you right then and there for not remembering was astronomical. His calloused palm flies to his forehead and smacks it roughly. “You are a pain in my fuckin’ ass and you haven’t even been here a week!” He whispers louder at you as he shoves the door open and takes a few steps inside. With his hand covering his eyes in case his younger brother's bare ass was out, he stopped where he felt was the middle of your room.

“Tommy, get up. Cmon. Get dressed. Up, let’s go.” His foot reached out until it stopped on the box spring and he nudged it a few times to get Tommy moving. Soon enough Tommy rolled over and took the sheet with him, his black boxers poking out slightly.

“Would you stop, he’s not naked.” You hiss and yank Joel’s hand off his face. A small gasp came from him as he opened his eyes and was met with a still half asleep Tommy.

“Tommy, let’s go man; wake your ass up!” Joel groans and shakes the hell out of his shoulder, obtaining groans from his brother.

He turns his head upwards to look at Joel, eyes slowly blinking open. “Joel? What’re you doin’- wait, did we tag team her like we did that one g-” His words were immediately ceased with Joel’s hand covering Tommy’s lips quickly, loud shushing drowning out his voice. “Get up, we’re leaving so Miss princess can go find a job and be a productive member of society like the rest of us common folk.” Joel bent down and threw whatever clothes were in a pile by his feet at Tommy, hoping and praying he’d get dressed and they can get the hell outta there and Joel can get on with his day.

“This isn’t mine, but I’d love to keep it..” Tommy held up your red thong from the previous night's escapades and your face got feverish to the touch, your hands covering your face to shield you from the embarrassment.

Joel smacks the back of his head and tells him to knock it off. “Hurry up, I’ll be back at the house. He turns to look at you who still had your face covered. With a firm bump of his forearm against yours, you lowered them and sighed.

“For your sake and mine, don’t invite him over again. Next time he’s your problem to deal with.” Surprisingly to you his tone wasn’t harsh for once, more of a sympathetic ring to it this time.

“Ye-yeah I won’t. Thanks again.” Taken aback by his semi sweet piece of advice, you nodded towards the door. “I should let you out so you can get back to your day.” With your hands in your back pockets as you walked him to the front door, you could still hear Tommy stomping around upstairs, trying what sounded like putting on his shoes. You looked at your phone to see if you missed any new texts from your dad, not a single message. You told him you’d be finding a job today but did he care to respond, tell you good luck, anything? No. Why would he? Joel must’ve been able to tell something was wrong because his frame softened along with his face, brows unfurrowed.

“You uh..you okay?” He asked, cocking his head to the side just a tad to see your face while you looked at your phone.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” you coldly answer, pushing the front screen door open for him. He wanted to press the situation further but stopped himself. It was no secret you were bothered by something but he couldn't guess what it was. “I’m going to your dads here in a bit to talk about where he wants this fuckin’ pool for Janet.” His brown eyes rolled slightly as he let out a breathy chuckle. With his hand pressed against the screen door to prop it open and walk out to the porch, Joel stops and stands still for a moment before turning back around to look at you.

“You sure nothin’ is wron-”

He was cut off by Tommy marching down your stairs to the front door, stopping in front of you. “You, little lady. No more tequila shots for me, ever again.” He laughs, his gorgeous smile playing to his lips. Your stomach started to turn and have a funny feeling inside. Maybe it was the fact you really weren’t all that interested in Tommy. Yeah you banged him last night, but before that happened you two sat up for hours and talked while pouring sloppy shots of more tequila. He told you about him and how he worked so closely with Joel, his beautiful niece Sarah and how she was like the daughter he never had.

“So maybe I’ll see you later?” The eagerness in his voice was so prominent it hurt that much more. “Uhh..maybe. We’ll talk soon, promise.”

You kiss his cheek and send him and Joel on their way back across the grass to Joel’s house.

Frustration and confusion course through your veins while you press your back against the front door, trying to make sense of what’s happened within the last 48 hours. It was almost 10:30 when you realized you should probably wash yourself before you go out all afternoon.

With just enough time to spare to smoke a cigarette to calm your nerves before leaving the house, you look over to Joel’s driveway and see his truck is gone. He was probably at your dads house by now, telling him all about this morning and how you’re the worst neighbor already. Who cares what your dad has to say to that though, you’re a grown ass adult and you can do what you want.

You smooth your hair down one last time in the reflection of the window before you flick the half smoked cigarette and blow the smoke from your mouth. Reaching into your purse you pull out the squashed packet of gum that was half gone. The sweet notes of mint dance to your nose as you unwrap the piece and toss it in your mouth, discarding the paper back into the package. Still no message from your dad the last time you checked. You probably should’ve never messaged him about it, he was never going to care like he pretends. Getting in your car and cranking the air and still painfully getting used to the heat once again, you put on your music and begin driving around all over town to find a decent job somewhere in this hellhole.

With the afternoon sun slowly going down, you huffed as you sunk back into your car after being denied from the seventh business to get a job. You could feel your luck fading with every declining response, the fear of being more of a disappointment creeping up on you like a scary shadow in the dark. The warm steering wheel held your head as you leaned forward to take a breath.

Back at your dad’s house, Joel’s putting his things away back in his little tool bag he carries in his truck for shit like this. He hates being unprepared, it’s not a good look for himself.

“So have you talked to your daughter recently?” Joel casually brings up as he puts away his tape measure.

“Yeah, she texted me earlier this morning about finding a job but I don’t know about all that. She’s not what these people are lookin’ for. She’s always late and she flakes, she can never amount to anything and she doesn’t put her mind to it. She quits when the going gets tough, s’why she ran away from here all those years ago to follow her mother across the country. Told her it was a stupid idea and she’d regret it and now look where she’s at. Back here in Texas with me.” Your dad laughs like anything he just said was remotely funny. Joel stopped putting tools away the moment your dad started to talk shit about his own flesh and blood, the only one of his kids that continues to acknowledge his existence. Even though Joel was still very pissed about last night and this morning, he didn’t think it was right for your dad to be talking about you like that, especially to him, a complete stranger to you.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek as he thought long and hard about what to say next.

“But you did respond and tell her good luck or somethin’ right? Sure she’s nervous and it sounds like she wants to get it right this time.” He looks over at your dad who was watching the birds fly away from the trees, his red polarized sunglasses he got from the gas station years ago shielding his eyes from Joel’s.

“No, I didn’t. She’ll be fine. Can’t hold her hand forever Joel. Plus I don’t know if they’d want her to work for them. They all heard the same thing I told you, can’t help that I know everyone in town and they wanna know my life.” He laughs again and Joel can feel his jaw clench together.

“Alan, man cmon that’s messed up. You just said you can’t hold her hand forever but you aren’t helping her grow up either by doin’ that.”

Your dad just waves Joel off and chuckles, turning to look at him, “She’ll be fine.” Something told Joel you wouldn’t be though.

On your drive home you skipped going back to your cozy hideaway and opted for the bar from last night, just having a taste for a beer. A single beer, no more tequila shots…for now. You sit down on the stool and turn yourself until you’re facing the bartender who just happened to be Michelle. There was a gnawing feeling at you, like you needed to apologize for putting Joel in a funk last night.

“What can I getcha sweeth-” Her words silenced when she was face to face with you. Giving her a small wave, you took a deep breath, trying not to mix up your words. “I think we got off on the wrong foot and I’d really like to start over. I didn’t mean to step on your toes last night about your bar. I think it’s cute and for the record, Joel isn’t watching over me, he’s my dads best friend and yes we’re neighbors but I don’t want to fuck him and he doesn’t want to fuck me- he actually can’t even stand to be around me and that’s mutual so I-”

“Okay, enough- stop it!” Michelle raises her voice and looks at you closely.

“What do you care if I like you or not darlin’?”

Your fingers comb your hair back and fall to the bar top, smoothing over an imperfection you managed to find. “I don’t want bad blood with anyone, that’s all. I’m already having a tough time finding a job and my dad- I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dump my problems onto you. I just don’t want the list of people wishing to see me fall on my ass grow. She was pouring you a diet coke and tossed a little straw in it, setting it down in front of you before leaning on her hands that were on the curve of the bar top.

“You said you needed a job?” The fizzy drink rolls down your throat and you nod fast. You can see she’s thinking of something in her head, the way she's biting at her fingernail slightly and her eyes are scanning back and forth.

“Come back tonight for training and wear something sexy but nothing too crazy..it’s a bar not a porno.” Michelle raises an eyebrow at you and walks to the back with empty bottles, leaving you sitting in the stool alone and your half drank coke dripping with condensation. With your lips fishing for the straw, you sucked the rest of the liquid down and left a ten dollar bill under the cup and immediately got into your car to drive home.

As you pull up to your house, you notice Joel’s truck is still gone, and no Sarah in sight. Wonder where she is…

Almost all of your clothes were tossed onto the floor while you tried to piece together a cute outfit. You landed on a black pleather halter top with laces in the front and black skin tight pleather pants. The black cowgirl boots your mom got you as a joke were finally making their way out of the box and onto some concrete. As you curled your hair and put it in a messy Pam Anderson inspired bun, you felt sexier than ever in weeks, maybe months. Bartending was all new to you but you’d like to think you learned new stuff quickly. With all of your touchup makeup packed away and about ten sprays of body spray, you were ready.

The gravel in Joel’s driveway crunched under his tires and he put it in park. You peaked from the bathroom window so he wouldn’t see you, it looked like he was on the phone.

Your chunky boot heels thump against the stairs and off you were out the door, ready to go to the first job you’ve been scared of doing. You cover your eyes from the warm setting sun and look at Joel through his truck window. He sighed and got out, immediately growing and looking away. “Where in the hell are you going? You better not be goin’ to Tommy’s I swe-”

“Uuugh nooo I’m not and if I was, who are you to stop me?” You fire back, your purse dangling slightly.

“Hey! I’m just trying- you know what? Forget it. How did the um..job hunting go?” Still not looking directly at you but in your direction, you told him how shitty it was. “Well um ya see..”

“But it’s totally okay because I stopped at Michelle's bar on the way home and she offered me a job. That’s where I’m going right now actually!” The excitement dripping from your words was like nails on a chalkboard to him considering how wide his eyes got.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ jokin’. You can’t seriously be working there?” He rubs his eyes out of frustration and groans loudly. Your smile slowly faded and you could feel the fiery ball of anger growing inside you.

“What is the fucking issue?”

“Do you have to be everywhere in my life every damn time I turn around, Jesus christ! I mean, the first night you’re here you’re dumped on me and then you bang my brother, insult my girl’s bar and then turn around and work there? What goes through your fucking head sometimes?”

He puts his hand on his hips and stares at you, waiting for some sort of answer. You meet him halfway in the grass right on the property line and raise your hand to smack him for talking to you like that when he catches your wrist in midair, shoving it back down to your side.

“Fuck you! I didn’t ask for him to dump me on you! Newsflash, you’re friends with a dickhead! Michelle was the one who hired me and last time I checked it’s her bar, old man. Not yours. See you fucking never, asshole.” Just when you felt a sliver of hope of maybe ever mending this weird thing with Joel, he shoves his foot in his mouth and misspeaks, taking you right back to square one of not liking him.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #daddy joel #dbf!joel #dbf! joel miller #dbf joel miller x f reader #joel the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #code red #chaotic mystery

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 1 year

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Evermore - Part 5

Summary: It's been 7 years since the love of your life left you behind for his career. When he decides to return is it too late to start anew? Will you decide to start over or realize what's been in front of you this whole time?

Chapter Summary: Eddie sees a few old faces and starts to realize that maybe his actions have consequences.

Warnings: Angst. Bad feelings. Per usual, Eddie turns to drugs/alcohol to numb/avoid his feelings. AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

You and Steve had fallen asleep on the couch. The movie ended and the VCR started to auto rewind the tape, the small noise in the otherwise quiet space roused you awake. You were curled into him, head still resting on his chest, arm wrapped around his torso while his was slung over you, hand resting on your hip.

He was leaning back on the couch, mouth slightly ajar from the angle with small snores escaping his sleeping form with his glasses still perched on his nose. He hated the way he looked in them, though you frequently assured him he was still just as devastatingly handsome.

Looking so peaceful you didn’t want to wake him, but your back was now screaming at you to move from being crouched over in the somewhat awkward position for so long.

“Stevie,” softly speaking his name, shaking him slightly where your hand rested on his stomach. He shifted a bit more toward you gripping your side, pulling you closer to him with a small “hmph” escaping his now slightly parted lips.

“Stevie, wake up. We fell asleep.” You spoke a little more loudly this time. Your voice stirred him awake, only then releasing the death grip he held you in.

Finally able to stretch your achy muscles, moving away from him as he sat up, taking the glasses from his face rubbing his eyes and face.

“Shit, what time is it?” he spoke, while he brought his wrist up trying to focus. “Shit” he muttered again before you could find the clock to answer him.

“I told Robin I’d pick Maddie up 15 minutes ago,” sighing, putting his glasses back on. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to call.”

You laugh knowing it’s true. Robin is a chronic worrier.

Laying a hand to your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze as he rose. Stretching, with his shirt riding up exposing the sliver of skin below his navel, his dark hair that your eyes drifted to where you know it trailed further hidden beneath his sweats. You looked away before he noticed where your gaze had landed.

“Hey,” looking up at him then, his warm honey hued eyes caught yours, “you’re welcome to come with. You can stay over mine tonight.”

Reaching up for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze as you spoke, “I’ll be ok for at least one night. I’ve got to take inventory since I’m watching Maddie tomorrow.”

He squeezed back, harder than you had. “If, you’re sure.”

“Course Steve, I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He nods, releasing your hand, albeit a little reluctantly, bending down with a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“See you tomorrow,” he gathers his things and heads out the door but not without sparing another disquieting glance your way, chewing his bottom lip just a bit. He looked like he was about to say something, lips parting slightly but instead shook his head lightly, then smiling before closing the door.

You were alone once with your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You were spiraling and this isn’t what you wanted to happen. For the last few hours, Steve served as a nice distraction. You could imagine that Eddie had never shown back up and all was right with the world. You were over him, so why was seeing him today so difficult?

“Nope!” you yelled into the expanse of the empty house. Inventory was going to happen a little earlier than usual.

Eddie had made it an entire 30 minutes in the Hideout parking lot before he was completely bored out of his mind, which by his standards may have been a record for sitting still.

He noticed the coffee shop across the street was open and lively, so he thought he’d grab a cup and stroll around downtown for a bit. Just another couple of hours before he could binge away the day and probably most of the night. He was already planning on leaving tomorrow anyway, why not go out with a bang?

The little coffee shop was named ‘Peaches and Cream’. He supposed it was appropriate, everything else in this God forsaken town reminded him of his failings and regrets.

He walked in as the bell above his head announced his arrival with a small chime. It drew the attention of some of the people sitting around already enjoying their steaming cups. It wasn’t every day they had some metalhead rockstar covered in tattoos and dressed in all black walk into this quiet little shop. His appearance was stark in contrast with the cheery, neutral setting.

“Well, I guess hell finally froze over,” a snarky, all too familiar voice from behind the counter captured his attention.

Snapping his head in that direction, he was met with a fiery red head starring daggers straight through him. Her arms were crossed above the apron that was adorned with the name of the shop. She was older, but still looked the same in many ways and by the sounds of it still had a sharp tongue that could still give Mike Wheeler a run for his money.

“Red.” He stated, sending a small smile her way that she didn’t return.

“Oh, so you do remember us small town folk.” Cynical attitude on full display, though he thought he rightly deserved it. “What are you doing here? Trying to earn a stalking charge?”

“What the hell is that supposed that mean?” he quipped back, shuffling forward.

“Like you don’t know this is her shop. Get real Munson.” She scoffed and started walking through the double doors that led to the back of the store.

“Wait, Red. She own’s this place?” his voice suddenly felt small. He had made his way up to the counter, and placed both his palms on the cool surface, trying to regain some composure. Wayne’s words coming back to him, “doing real good for herself.”

Max rounded and eyed him wearily.

“You didn’t know?” she questioned, eyebrows scrunching with confusion for a moment before scoffing again, rolling her eyes. “Wow, well, I mean it really doesn’t shock me. Not like you kept in touch with any of your friends. You know when you took off, Peach isn’t the only one you left behind Eddie.”

“Max, just… just cut the shit!” exasperated, he raised his voice, gaining the attention of the patrons around the place once more.

“I just need a black coffee and I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t have the time or patience for this right now.” Time was something he had, patience he very much lacked.

She moved then, grabbing the pot and filling a to-go cup for him, placing it on the counter in front of him, as he pulled out his wallet.

“I should charge you triple,” she mumbled under her breath, as she started to ring up the single coffee.

He pulled out a twenty, laid it on the counter and started to walk away.

“Hey,” Max shouted, looking back up. “I was just kidding”. But he was already out the door.

“Max!” you yelled as you entered the back of the coffee shop.

She poked her head through the doors, “Hey Peach! You’re here early.”

“Yeah, I uh… Didn’t feel like sitting around the house all day.” You joined her up front, probably looking a little disheveled from the nap earlier. You hadn’t taken the time to look in the mirror before leaving, getting dressed and gathering your things as quickly as possible.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Munson being back in town, would it?” She eyed you, tilting her head as she crossed her arms, leaning against the back counter.

“Ah, I guess word has gotten around then?”

“I mean yeah, but he also just left about 10 minutes ago. He really looks like shit.” She stated matter-of-factly.

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, he does look a little worse for wear.” She shrugged as she walked to lock up for the day.

She helped you take inventory like she did most Sundays. You and Max had stayed close even after you graduated, you were like the big sister she never had. After Eddie had left, she moved in with you until you had bought the house. She had stayed in the apartment above the Hideout until she eventually moved in with Lucas.

After your work was done, you drove by the Hideout, seeing a black sedan parked there knowing immediately who it was. Did he really have nothing else to do?

You headed home, ready to rid yourself of the past, you wanted to forget he had ever come back to darken your doorstep. You have made your own life here. He was now an unwanted intrusion. Dreams once shared together now a distant echo of the past.

Does everyone in this fucking town really want to tear him a new one? He left the coffee shop more irritated than when he left your house. At least he knew exactly what he was getting himself into showing up there. The sudden rush he had felt seeing a familiar face quickly faded, feeling cornered all over again lashing out at Max.

He kept checking his watch, counting down the minutes until the Hideout would finally open and he could stifle some of this misery for at least a little while.

He would wallow in his self-pity today and tomorrow he would be back on his way to L.A. There was no place left in your life for him. What did he really expect? You welcoming him with open arms like nothing had ever happened? He must be more delusional than he thought. You’ve always been stubborn. There was a better chance of Hell freezing over than you ever forgiving him. But was it forgiveness he was really seeking? No, he had wanted more. A second chance to make things right.

When 4 PM rolled around, Eddie shot out of the car, hoping whoever was working had opened on time.

He threw open the door, the scent of cheap alcohol and stale peanuts hit him. Nostalgia at its best. At this point, all he could do is ride the wave, there is nowhere in Hawkins that wouldn’t stir some sort of memory or feelings for him.

It still looked relatively the same. He could tell it had a fresh paint job in recent years though the walls remained the same shade of hunter green they had always been. He noted that there were band posters hung around the place featuring more modern musicians. Maybe ole’ Hank was trying to draw in a younger crowd, growing with the times.

The bar top remained the same warm wood he remembered. I bet if he looked hard enough the initials of yours and his he had carved in the surface would still be there.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” you whispered, as he took out his pocketknife, scratching into the wood with ease.

“Shhhh… just keep a look out for your Uncle.” He whispered back.

You were both a little tipsy that night. Hank had let you stay after hours. The boys had a show earlier, but it was just you and him left. Doors already locked for the night.

“He’s going to kill you when he sees that.” You giggle, knowing Hank wouldn’t really care. You scooted closer to him, feeling the warmth his body pressed close to yours provided. Pink tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, a habit he had when concentrating.

“Done!” he sat back a little, as you peeked over his shoulder. He had carved both your initials with a heart around it. “Just a little something for this town to remember us by when we’re long gone.”

Your hand reached out tracing the letters as he swung his arm around you pulling you in to kiss your temple.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of that imagery. Avoiding that stool knowing exactly where those initials would be, instead opting for the last seat at the end of the bar.

The place was void of any life. He sat down, waiting a few moments before raising his voice a bit, “Hello?”

A younger guy walked from the back room. Eddie thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place him. Probably someone who went to school with him.

“Oh Hi, sorry. Don’t usually get too many folks in here this early.” The younger man smiled warmly.

“Look, I just need you to give me a Jack, with ice. Keep em’ coming and it’ll be worth your while. Kay?” He flashed a few hundreds the young man’s way.

“Whatever you say sir.” He pocketed the money and poured the drink.

The end of the bar gave him a little privacy. It was darker, hidden from the direct eye line of the entrance.

By the time 7 rolled around he was feeling about half as good as he wanted to, it took a lot to get him messed up these days. The bar was a little livelier than when he was younger. Seemed to be more people around his age instead of the older crowd that hung around back when the Corroded Coffin boys were still in school.

Closer to 9 with blood shot eyes, pupils dilated and speech starting to slur he asked the bartender, Randy, whose name he had finally caught, for another but that’s when the younger man hesitated. He had noticed the way the metalhead started to fade.

“Hey man, think you may have had enough, yeah?”

Eddie shot a pensive look at the man, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t I tell you to keep em’ coming? Huh?”

“You did, but uh… I think my boss would kill me if they knew I were serving you too much.”

“Hank? Nah, I know Hank.” He shot back dismissively with a wave of his hand.

“Hank hasn’t owned this place for a couple of years now. Retired.” Randy stood his ground.

“Well,” Eddie stood then, with a sway, losing his balance but quickly righting himself. “I don’t care who the owner is, I paid you good money to keep the drinks coming.” Feeling a little lightheaded, he sat back down with a thud.

One more drink before him now, nodding and tipping it back.

Not long after, Randy had decided it was time he phoned the local Sherriff before things got out of hand.

Arriving a short time later in a gruff mood, being interrupted from his nice Sunday evening with the family, getting a call that the local celebrity was starting to raise a ruckus in the small bar wasn’t what he had expected.

He slinked up to Eddie and sat on the stool next to him. He never even looked up, eyes trained ahead as if the bar top was the most interesting thing in the world.

Jim wasn’t in uniform, thinking it best to not make it a bigger deal than it may have already been. He would attempt to quietly get them both the hell out of there taking him somewhere to sleep it off until morning.

He waved at Randy, who immediately grabbed him a beer. Sitting it before him with a thump, finally gaining the attention of the other man knocking him out of whatever little world he had been in.

“Hop… Hopper?” he pensively asked. More a statement but came as a question.

“Hey son,” he looked over then, Eddie’s eyes starting to grow heavier. Hopper had been around long enough to tell alcohol didn’t seem to be the only thing in the younger man’s system, but that would need be left for another conversation.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” he started, drawing a cigarette from the new packet he produced from his pocket, lighting it. “I’m going to finish this beer that Randy here was kind enough to get me, then you and I are going to take a little walk.”

Eddie just nodded. Coherent thoughts drowned out by the music and the haze of the alcohol taking full effect. And that’s what happened, Hopper drank as Eddie sat quietly; head hung until he heard him snivel.

The old juke box in the corner kicked up an old song, yet another reminder of the past. “Mmm yeah! Tonight, I want to give it all to you.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he lowly murmured to himself, shaking his head lightly, catching the other man’s attention.

“You know, this was her favorite song.” A moment of clarity in the haze that hung over his mind.

The song continued to play, “I was made for lovin’ you baby. You were made for lovin’ me.” The universe was truly toying with him.

The vivid picture of you dancing around the little apartment rattled around. You had this song on full blast, using a ladle you had grabbed from the counter, singing along. Your laughter bubbling over once Eddie had joined in on the impromptu concert.

Jim didn’t say anything at first, waiting for Eddie to continue but he didn’t, already lost in that thought. He hung his head back down, hair effectively hiding his face and the tears that were threatening to spill, eyes stinging from the sensation.

“I never meant to hurt her like that… I… I fucked up,” he said lowly.

“You ever tell her that?” Hopper asked, as if it was the most sensical thing.

“I tried.” He nodded. Hopper was a man of few words when it came to matters of the heart. Actions always outweigh words.

The older man then paid for his drink and started to help Eddie from the stool, grabbing under his arm to stabilize him.

“Alright Bud, let’s go.”

Randy started to ask, “Do I need to call…?”

Jim cut him off with a harsh glance and shake of his head, “I’ll take care of it.” Then turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Come on kid, let’s get you somewhere you can rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Eddie yanked his arm from his grip with so much force he would have assuredly fell to the ground had it not been for the older man catching his jacket.

Jim just dragged him from the bar without so much as another word or glance back. Once they reached the parking lot, Eddie stopped again, feet planted firmly this time.

“Where… where is she? I… I need ta’ talk to her.” He slurred.

“Look, son, now is not the time to start this mopey sad shit. You’re drunk, I’ll call Wayne. He can get you home to sleep this off.”

“No!” he yelled now, “Where’s Peach? I need ta’ tell her. I need ta’ talk to her. Please man.” He was thinking of what he had done that night. Seemingly taking what he needed and then taking his leave. He never meant it, he wished he could take it all back.

Eddie was staring at him with pleading, glazed over eyes. He started to break down, as he was led to the back of the cruiser. The older man took pity on him, even though he knew it was a bad idea. He was able to get him into the back without much more coaxing, accepting his fate.

He made sure the door was secure and went back into the bar to use the phone.

Hesitantly, he dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Hey, it’s Jim. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

Taglist: @josephquinncore @theawkwardbutterfly @munsonmecrazy @jadedhillon @pettydonuts @angelina16torres-blog @justheretoreadleavemealone @heyyimmisunderstood @micheledawn1975 @devilslittlebabyxx @luciferiorbxtch @bebe07011 @yunnie-f1 @akiratoro420 @evansslutt @sheerfreesia007 @tlclick73 @bakugouswh0r3 @vintagehellfire @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @ali-r3n

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader #dad! steve harrington #older!eddie #older!steve #evermore part 5 #evermore

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rizzyu · 9 months

Text

▵▿— Red Wine on Christmas Night

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara, x gn! reader

Category: Fluffffuff

Warning: alcohol consumption, cussing, m o r i.

Summary: As Christmas strived closer and close by the day, the Port Mafia hosted a Christmas dinner at its headquarters to celebrate. Chuuya had a little bit too much to drink and started being a little bit too clingy with you.

A/N: I made this one significantly shorter than Dazai’s one cuz I don’t really wanna write another long ass fic

“I AIN’T WEARING THAT SHIT”

“Cmonnnnn put it on before Y/N get here, it’ll be funny”

“ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT”

You just arrived at the Port Mafia’s headquarters to see Tachihara and Higuchi try to convince Chuuya to wear a santa costume. “Uhhhh what’s going on?” Chuuya slowly turned his head towards you, teeth gritted and face burning in red. “HEY STOP LOOKING” Chuuya pointed at you “AND DON’T YOU DARE IMAGINE ME IN A SANTA COSTUME GOD DAMMIT”

You flashed a cheeky grin “Of course not.”

“Settle down little ones.” Kouyou stepped in the room with a glass of red wine in her hand. “We would be heading in the meeting room quite soon, so I do wish you would behave well in front of the boss.” Kouyou took a sip from her glass when Mori opened the door “Please come in.”

Chuuya sat down next to you. “I sincerely welcome all my executives and important members to this dinner.” Mori held up his glass. “Tonight we shall celebrate another year of the Port Mafia’s high achievements.” Everyone held up their own glass and toasted to this year’s Christmas.

▿▵▿▵▿

Chuuya poured himself another glass of wine after already downing his first. “So how was your recent mission?” He asked you out of the blue, his face was already flushed from the alcohol. “It was alright, just another silly little group who wanted to challenge the Port Mafia. It wasn’t that difficult to have them retreating like chickens.” You watched as Chuuya had already downed half of his second glass. “Hey stop drinking so fast, I can’t have you passing out like last time.”

“Hah?? The hell you talking about? I’ve only drank a little”

“Yea… keep telling yourself that—eh?” You quickly snapped your head around to look at Chuuya the moment he plopped his forehead against your shoulder. “Chuuya you should really stop drinking for tonight.” “Have anyone told you that you look so fucking beautiful tonight?” Your lips quirked upwards, clearly amused by how much of a lightweight Chuuya is, despite his obsession with alcohol.

“God ‘m so tired. ‘ve been getting to many missions lately.” Chuuya quietly muttered. You lightly chuckled “Where did the energetic Chuuya I saw earlier go?” “That Chuuya gotta get his rest too yknow…” You smiled softly before combing his hair through your fingers. The way Chuuya’s tensed muscles relaxed made the butterflies in your stomach flutter around.

“I feel like I should record this” Higuchi suddenly spoke from across the table. “It seems that we’re intruding something going on between these two.” Tachihara nods in agreement.

“WHAT? What do you mean— hold up! How long have you all been watching???” You felt your cheeks warm up. “Pretty much since you two started flirting with each other…” “We-we’re not flirting what do you mean??”

Kouyou sighs as she put down her cutlery. “Don’t mind those two, it’s not like this is the first time this has happened.” You chuckled nervously, secretly thanking your senior for trying to changing the subject.

Your eyes slightly widened when you felt Chuuya completely plop his head onto your lap. Soft snores left his lips as he slept soundly. You smiled to yourself when he nuzzled himself closer to you in his sleep, you leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of his head.

“I told you not to drink so much…” You sighed. “Merry christmas Chuuya.”

#riyugu writing #yorutenshi riyugu #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya

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riality-check · 2 years

Text

i’ve had a shit day, so that means you all get to have an old drabble! bon appetit.

When he first starts spending the night at Steve’s, Eddie has to admit that, at first, it scares him a little bit. He’d thought he’d gone to bed with Steve “pretty boy” Harrington, but it seems he’s woken up with a demon in his bed.

Steve’s hair is a rat’s nest, mussed in every direction and breaking at least three laws of physics with how it sticks up. His eyes are doing this freaky half-open thing that reminds Eddie of The Exorcist, for some reason, and his cheek is scrunched up on the pillow, squishing his face to one side.

To top it all off, his mouth is half open, and he’s snoring. Loudly.

His morning breath is terrible, but Eddie doesn’t turn away. He should. But he doesn’t. Maybe it’s because this is a Steve no one else gets to see. Maybe because he’s never seen Steve with his face completely at ease and without tension in his shoulders.

This is a Steve without expectations or pressure. Eddie knows all about that. He got called “the Freak” for the first time in junior year, and it became his word. His armor.

Let them see what they want to see, he remembers thinking.

So, he sewed patches on a frayed battle vest and stuck up devil horns and ranted on cafeteria tables about conformity.

Maybe it’s the same for Steve. “The Hair” turned into the Farrah Fawcett hairspray he refuses to tell anyone else about. “King” became carefully rumpled rich boy clothes and keg stand records.

“Steve,” Eddie thinks, is this. A squished face on an unmade bed. Messy hair. Morning breath that could kill an orc.

And Eddie, freakishly, absurdly, thinks Steve is at his prettiest when he looks objectively ugly.

#largely unedited #but i'm not gonna lie #i would like some validation to feel better lmao #ria writes #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #ficlet #steddie ficlet #domestic fluff

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softestqueeen · 11 months

Text

let the light in

pairing: sherlock holmes x reader

summary: After a particularly frustrating case, all the consulting detective needs, is closeness.

warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

wordcount: 904 words

a/n: just a cute little one shot with my favourite detective. the name is inspired by the song “let the light in” by Lana Del Rey, cuz I feel like it fits the vibe I was going for in the end. and now enjoy <3

His last case was one of the hardest he ever had the solve. Even though Sherlock Holmes loves the thrill of a case that really challenges him, it also frustrates him to no end if he can’t find the culprit the moment, he has all the evidence.

This case had involved multiple chases with no success, countless sleepless nights, and even more nights that he didn’t get to spend with you.

Countless nights sitting in his chair thinking, while he could hear your soft snores from down the hall.

He missed you even though he saw you every day. He saw you when you told him to eat something, when you told him to take a break, when you told him to go to sleep. But it wasn’t the same when he couldn’t really spend some quality time with you. When he couldn’t have deep conversations with you, when he couldn’t look at you, when he couldn’t hold you and really feel you.

To say he ached for you was putting it lightly.

The start of your relationship was not easy. Suddenly Sherlock had someone he really trusted. Someone who always listened to him and always cared about him. Someone who would wait and be there for him when he came home at night. Those were not things that were easy for him to get used to, especially since he had never really loved someone.

But for you he tried, and, in the end, it worked out. Still sometimes your relationship has to come second. He doesn’t like that, but he has to get his cases done, especially since he doesn’t take on that many cases anymore. He found a new thrill.

You.

When Sherlock finally entered your shared flat in the middle of the night, he didn’t expect you to be up.

But here you were, sitting in his chair, wearing on of his robes and reading what seems to be one of your way too cheesy romcoms. In the background a jazz record could be heard, one of your favourites. He couldn’t even begin to explain how relieved he was to see you.

But unfortunately, the one he thing Sherlock Holmes was horrible at asking for was the one thing he now desperately needed most.

All he wanted to do right now was hold you close and hear your voice. He wanted to really feel you with his whole being and not just feel your hand grazing his when handing him a cuppa.

He lightly knocked on the door, not wanting to startle you. You looked up from your book and immediately saw your boyfriend looking back at you. A smile now adorned your face, which caused a warm feeling to spread through the detective.

“Case solved?”, was the first question you could voice, even though a hundred more were currently going through your mind. You really hoped it was solved, because that would mean you could finally spend some time with your boyfriend again.

“Finally!”, he answered, a smile now starting to appear on his face too.

At hearing his answer, you immediately got up and hugged him for what felt like the first time in weeks, even though it could have been only a week at most.

You nuzzled into his chest while he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your body wash.

“Why are you still up, my love?” It was not a question of importance but more one to break the silence and to finally hear more of your voice.

“Well, I couldn’t sleep and thought I would wait up for you. I’ve missed you.” Your words made Sherlock think. These days he often considered your feelings, especially when he’s doing something that could make you mad. But he never considered that not only did he miss you, but you also missed him the same. He was not the only one deprived of your touch, you couldn’t touch him either.

He unconsciously pulled you closer while he got lost in his thoughts.

“How about we go to bed, huh?” Your voice immediately put him back to reality.

“Theres nothing, I want more right now.”, he answered truthfully. You pulled away from him and took his hand in yours, already on the way to your shared bedroom.

You were already wearing your pyjamas, only wearing one of Sherlocks dressing gowns on top of them.

While you got under the covers Sherlock took off his suit before carefully placing it on a nearby chair. He also got into his pyjamas before joining you under the covers.

He immediately took a hold of your waist before pulling you into him. You were now both laying on your sides, legs intertwined, facing each other. You had one of your hands on his chest, feeling his steady and now relaxed heartbeat, while your other hand slowly drew shapes on his back.

All the while Sherlock just held you close, happy to have you close to him again.

While holding you, he wondered how he went on with life before he met you. Before you were there for him, held him close and showed him what love felt like, or that love could feel so incredibly good. But when he kissed you now, just before you fell asleep in his arms, he knew that he doesn’t need to worry about having to live without you ever again.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this little drabble, please consider giving me feedback and leaving some notes (likes, comments, reposts). please also consider checking out my ao3!

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon

#love #fluff #ao3 #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock bbc #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock #reader insert #no y/n #drabble #one shot #x reader #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cucumber

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buzzyb33 · 10 months

Note

can i please get a josh (zerkaa) x f!reader fic where they do up the apartment for christmas\spend christmas together just a lot of fluff and warm feelings ty xxx

AHHHH OF COURSE ML 🫶🏽.

Prompt:in request.

Warnings: swearing

Josh was out for a sidemen video recording in central London, most likely going to be back soon, so, as his fiancée, I would obviously spend my free time doing something for us.

I grin as I sit cross legged and pick the branches, spreading them out evenly as I stack the parts on the faux tree.

I have some random Christmas music playing in the background.

I stand up straight as I finish fluffing out the tree in a way.

I’d always been a sucker for Christmas and went shopping for decorations the previous week.

I stood up to get the box in the kitchen when the door opens and closes.

I hear a sigh as I bring the boxes into the living and look towards the hallway and josh pulls his hoodie off.

“What you- oh you’re decorating? Can I help?” He smiles.

My eyes glisten as I nod.

“Course you can, help me with the bulbuls.”

He nodded and begun helping me put the blue white and grey balls on the tree.

I lean into him and smile.

As we finish with the tree I kiss his cheek and urge him to stand up.

“Go change into something more comfy Josh, you’re too bulky now.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Uh- I don’t think I am, but whatever.” He teasingly rolls his eyes and goes into our room.

I open the box that's filled with tinsel.

Josh comes back in with some Christmas pyjamas and a white shirt.

I smile at him as he sits cross legged next to me, taking some tinsel out the box.

We sit in a comfortable silence for a couple minutes before he speaks: “are we doing all the stairs again? And the fireplace?”

“Course we are.” I grin as he chuckles and finishes untangling the one in his hand.

He stands up and works on wrapping silver and he tinsels around the fire place while I start on the stairs.

The low hum of a Christmas playlist soothing as we work.

“Hey josh- I’ve done with the-“ I cut myself off as I trip on some fairy lights he left on the floor, tripping until he barely catches me.

We meet each others eyes and both burst out laughing.

I giggle and stand up straight.

“Let’s go and do the bedroom.” I say as we compose ourselves.

“Like the sound of that.” He winks and I slightly again.

We decorate the whole apartment in Christmas things, lights, tinsel, until it looked like an elf had through up on whole house.

Us two ended up in bed with empty hot chocolates next to us, him shirtless left as a pile of limbs as I muzzle into him, exhausted from putting so many things up.

“Thank you for helping me, Josh.” I say my tone a bit heavier as I close my eyes against his chest.

“You’re welcome..” he mumbled, his grip on my waist tightening.

He smelt of cinnamon and sweets when I nuzzled into him, my eyes closed.

The next morning I woke up to his light snores next to me, as I climb out of his grip I open the curtains to see the whole floor covered in snow.

I let out a light gasp and grin to myself.

As Josh stays asleep I decide to shower, change into some white jeans, a white long sleeved shirt and a black sweater, I get a scarf and gloves and set mine and Josh’s out.

Just as i do that I hear him grumble.

“N/n.. shut the curtains..” he moans into his pillow.

“It’s half ten, Josh.” I say as I fold them.

“What? Really?” He says and looks up.

“Why are you dressed? Are we going somewhere?” He says and sits up, the duvet falling to his thighs.

“It’s snowed so-“ he rubs his eyes as I continue.

“So I was gonna go for a walk and get some food or something.” I shrug.

“Do you wanna come?” He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and puts his head on my shoulder.

“Course..”

I smile and kiss his bearded cheek.

Mad we get ready to leave I insist on taking some pictures.

He smiles as I put my hat on.

We talk some photos the last one with us kissing.

I grin and hold his hand as we leave.

I drive is to central London and we walk around for around 2 hours, getting some food and Christmas gifts for family.

“If you was a 6 year old girl with a weird obsession with dinosaurs, would you rather the diplodocus or the pterodactyl?” He asks as we enter a toy shop.

“Definitely the diplodocus.” I say and he nods.

“Same for you- if you was a 10 year old boy with a weird obsession with spider man would you rather the figure of Gwen or Uhm- Iron spider?”

“Gwen, she’s cooler.” He responds and I nod.

We spend some more time getting cards then head back, we were out for 3 hours and we had to go out for food with one of my university friends.

As we have an hour or two to our selves we sit cross legged and wrap some gifts in the same comfortable hum of Christmas songs.

“Y/n how the fuck am I meant to wrap a teddy bear?” He scoffs and I see him struggling to wrap the stuffed dinosaur.

“Uh- focus on the body then the head I suppose here, do this.”

I hand him a shoe box that’s for Ethan (their stupid elf slippers) and take the plush.

I wrap it after mild difficulty and hand it back.

He thanks me and kisses my temple, handing it back.

I let a ghost of a smile stay on my lips as I keep wrapping.

After our meal we end up in the same state, tired and intertwined together like we’re one person not two separate.

I have my forehead on his bare chest as he rubs circles up and down my back.

“Goodnight n/n..” he murmurs as I wish it back, falling asleep in his strong grip again, skin to skin, heart to heart.

A/n: I loved this request made me giggle a bit, anyway! Simon headcannons coming soon then a Harry Fic.

I also do not know what pet names the boys would call their partner so..

REQUEST OR ASK ME ANYTHING!!

#sidemen x y/n #sidemen x reader #sidemen #zerkaa x reader #josh zerkaa #zerkaa #joshua bradley #Josh zerkaa x reader #zerker #beta squad #youtuber x reader #youtuber #youtube #behzinga x reader #ethan behzinga #behzinga #ethan payne x reader #ethan payne

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jelafclie · 4 months

Text

⤷ “ if i love you , is that a fact or a weapon? “ m. atwood

—————————————————————

⟳ what a lovely reaction

i’m so looking forward to

strangulating you

———————————————————————

⟳ our fate will

not end in a place

like this

——————————————————

[+18] warnings include nsfw language, cussing, england, and implied assault.

> [ LOGGED IN ] > [ make a post ] > [ recording ]

RECORDING ONE :

“fuck off. i told you not to call me that stupid dog name.” / “hehehe. mr. sparky, my life partner—“ / “I TOLD YOU TO STOP TELLING PEOPLE I’M YOUR FUCKING LIFE PARTNER.” / “we’re not dating what do you want, chibi-san” / “ANYTHING BUT THAT FUCKIN-“

. end of recording .

RECORDING TWO :

“let me fucking handle this.” / *moaning sounds from background* “ye- yes, yes, i’ll be a good boy.”/ BONK ! / “you tacky piece of shit, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? WE ARE NOT FUCKING…” / “I was just reading from your tumblr smut—“ / BONK! SMASH! CRACK! / “SOMEONE HELP ME, DADDY IS BEING MEAN—“ / “SHUT THE FUCK UP, THIS IS SERIOUS. I TOLD YOU THAT IN FUCKING CONFIDENCE NOT TO SAY ON OUR BLOG—“ / “DADDY WANTS ME TO BEHAVE BECAUSE I’VE BEEN NAUGHTY! I CAN BE GOOD. YOU WANT TO SEE?” / “BITC—“

. end of recording .

RECORDING THREE :

“hehehe my plan worked, guys. chuuya used up all his energy, cursing at me until he made sure i was comfortable in the bed hehehe. L for dom losers so now i can introduce the blog.” / *mumbling between snores* “i should really fuck you out until you become mute.” / “unfortunately for chibi-san, he can never make me mute. he should know this. i am dazai osamu and the man who is sleeping from exhaustion is chuuya nakahara. we thought it would be good to make a podcast where we talk about our philosophical viewpoints about random media because well…. we can !!!! my main man says we have to start it with an introduction, and a general idea of what the content warnings are despite i said it is completely kid friendly and chuuya said, i quote, “nothing you fucking do is kid friendly, you slimy piece of shit.”. So from the list chuuya made, it says we’re “+18”-? CHUUYA!”

. end of recording .

RECORDING FOUR :

“bitch made me fuck him so i would get tired and woke me up cuz he thought we’ll record his fucking moans. I AM NEVER FUCKING HIM AGAIN I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD.” / “watch me get you to shut me up.” / *sigh* “if you don’t shut the fuck up—“ / “you’ll punch me-? that always leads into make up sex.” / “if you don’t shut the fuck UP, I will call a london real estate company to buy a home so you will not see me for months on end.” / “… baby, i love you. i don’t mean any of it. just don’t go to england, the english are a white species set on destroying civilization-“ / “good. asshole. anyways, warnings include anything dazai says which consist of his shitty suicide talk & cynicism, & my cursing & possible vulgarity. please if you are under the age of 18, do not interact with this blog. please if you cannot handle what is mentioned in the warnings before every podcast, do not interact. this is a study in media that includes dissecting taboo concepts and to preserve your sanity if anything is triggering, do not interact. thank you for listening to je la folie & i hope you enjoy our shit.”

. end of recording .

Je La Foile is a podcast distributed by jelafclie on tumblr and not licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 International License.

#dazai osamu #soukoku #soukoku fanfiction #skk fanfic #chuuya fanfic #bsd #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara

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five-rivers · 1 year

Text

Cult Division 3

Part of the Exhumed series

“What do you mean, you can’t change back?” asked Daily.

“What do you think I mean?” asked Danny, stepping off the cloth, then stooping to ball it up into something he could easily carry. “I can’t go back to being Phantom.”

“Then they really revived you?”

“No,” said Danny, “I don’t think so.” He could still feel his ghost half, he just couldn’t grab it. It had been like this for less than a minute and he already hated it.

Daily shifted, looking around the park. “Okay, um. Can you do any of your… stuff? The ghost stuff?”

Danny bit his lip and cycled through his basic powers. Nothing. He shook his head.

“Oh, that’s bad. You’re just like a normal kid now.”

He wasn’t wrong, exactly, but Danny wished he’d phrased it at least slightly differently.

“A normal kid… In the park in the middle of the night…” Daily shook his head. “We shouldn’t be here when McGee comes back. He still hasn’t chilled out.”

Meaning, he was still looking for things to report back to the agency that sent him in the first place. Danny groaned. “Don’t worry, I’m going home.” Maybe his parents would have some insight into what had happened. Or, at least, who they had sold Ghost Catcher thread to.

“Hey, no, wait, you can’t walk home from here like that. You’re not even wearing a coat.”

“I don’t really have another option—”

“I’ll drive you.”

“Isn’t that Collin’s car?”

“He won’t miss it. And he left the keys.”

Danny stared for a moment at the blatant lies, then shrugged. He could still hear distant sounds of people running through trees and bushes. It would take a while for Collins, Paterson, and McGee to catch everyone, assuming they caught anyone at all, and Fentonworks wasn’t that far away.

He walked back to the car and opened the door, the front one, this time, and slid in. Daily got in the other side, then stared blankly at the steering wheel.

“You do know how to drive, right?” It was a valid question. Danny had never seen Daily drive.

“Of course I do! I just haven’t driven this car before.” He started the car up, and very slowly pulled out onto the road.

The slowness of the drive gave Danny time to further assess himself. His ghost half was definitely, absolutely, still there (thank goodness). It just felt… weighed down. Pinned. Tied up.

He started picking at the glowing thread. The patterns were repeated on his skin, but maybe it was just a matter of taking off his clothes…

The car slowed to a halt. “Do you need me to walk you in?” asked Daily, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I can… Explain to your parents? Or maybe your sister?” Jazz was mentioned in a significantly more helpful tone than his parents.

“No, I’ve got it,” said Danny, opening the door. “Thanks for the ride. You’ll let me know what you find out about that cult and…” He gestured at himself. “Whatever they did.”

“Okay,” said Daily. “Yeah. Of course! That’s my job, right?”

Keeping an eye on and researching cults was part of Daily’s job, but telling Danny wasn’t. Still. “Yeah,” said Danny, smiling weakly.

Collins frowned at the empty parking lot. “Paterson!” he called.

“Yeah?” came Paterson’s voice, echoing across the park.

“Did I, or did I not park here?”

“What?”

Collins groaned. “Give it up, they got away!” He sighed. “Possibly with my car.”

Danny did not have the best track record when it came to telling his parents about things, but he was trying to get better. Still, he felt like the present subject had to broached delicately. That was why he was sitting on the floor outside their bedroom, listening to his dad snore.

He wanted to tell them. He wanted to fix this. But he didn’t want to admit how much trouble he’d gotten into and how a bunch of cultists had gotten the better of him.

But he was trying, and his new, ugh, magic glowing tattoos weren’t something he could hide. He picked up the broom he had brought with him and opened the door. No point in knocking, they both wore earplugs to bed. He picked up the broom and poked his dad with the end of it.

“WHAT! GHOST!”

“Hmhph?” said Maddie. “Ghost?” She had a small ectoblaster in her hand already.

“No, just me.” Danny put down the broom and raised his hands.

“Oh, Danno,” said Jack, rubbing at one eye as Maddie pried the earplugs from his ears. “What are you doing here?”

Danny bit his lower lip. “I… might have screwed up.”

“Danny, sweetheart, that doesn’t sound like it was your fault. It would have happened even if you stayed home. You were kidnapped.”

“I guess.” It still felt like he could have done something. Maybe if he’d paid a little more attention to the cults, kept a closer eye on what they were doing.

“But we do need to see what we can do with all this.” She picked up his hand and rubbed her thumb over one of the green marks on its back. “…and about that summoning thing. I don’t like that these people can just snatch you away whenever they like.”

“And we’ll never let them do anything like that again! Or else!” said Jack, brandishing the spatula he was using to flip the pancakes.

“It sounded like it was related to the date somehow.”

“That doesn’t comfort us much, sweetie. Especially considering what they did to you. Do you think they really involved your, ah…”

“I mean…” Danny trailed off and took his hand back. He rubbed his arms against the sudden chill. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve never gotten my powers knocked out of whack. It could be like that. Might even have a time limit.”

“But?” prompted Maddie.

“But… it feels different,” admitted Danny. “It’s weight, not static.”

“Do you think we’ll need to, uh, what’s the word again, for digging up a, um…”

“Exhumation,” said Maddie, before Jack could come up with a proper euphemism for corpse.

Danny wasn’t really comfortable about his… mortal remains. But the pauses and too-obvious references were, in many ways, worse.

Literally everything else about his life was better than when he’d still been keeping things a secret, though! He did not want to go back!

Except maybe to earlier tonight, when getting the dead half of his body shoved back into him wasn’t something he had to worry about happening.

“We’ll have to ask the police about that,” said Maddie. “Maybe we can start with a few simple tests after breakfast, though. See if how much your readings changed from your baseline.”

“Hey! Could be that all you need is a trip through the old Ghost Catcher!”

“Ghost Catcher string partially caused this,” said Danny. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to, uh, cross wires.”

“There shouldn’t be any problem with that,” said Jack. “The strings aren’t reactive with each other, they wouldn’t work if they were. Speaking of which, how did they even get it into this cloth?” Jack used the spatula to point at the cloth, which was spread out over Jazz’s chair. “Usually, you have to have special tools to work with any of it, or else it just falls through.”

“I don’t know, they didn’t really say anything beyond path of enlightenment nonsense. You know, the whole ‘we worship you but won’t listen to a thing you say’ thing.”

Maddie sighed. “We’ll just hope they get caught so they can tell us what they were actually trying to do. In the meantime, we’ll do our own research… And maybe you can use this as a break. A little vacation.”

“In the same way sick days are a vacation, I guess.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“No,” said Danny. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Maybe you should stay home from school until we can find a way to undo this.”

“Aw, no, Mom. I don’t want to miss any school. I’ve been actually doing okay this year.”

“But we don’t know how any of this is going to affect you. What if it is temporary, and your… body is involved. What happens if it times out in class?”

Danny swallowed, suddenly nauseous. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

The chief of police sat in his office, blinds drawn, two thirds of the trouble trio and Cameron Daily.

“You’re telling me that the person who is primarily responsible for protecting our city from hostile ghosts has been nerfed by cultists. Cultists that you let get away.”

“Hey!” said Daily. “I didn’t know you knew what nerfed meant, chief!”

The chief groaned. “Find these cultists. Figure out what they did. Get the Fentons whatever they need to undo this. Fast.”

“Alright,” said Maddie, as if she hadn’t been having a whispered argument with Jack only minutes before, “I’m going to city hall to file the exhumation paperwork. You two stay here unless something happens to Danny. No leaving for ghost attacks.”

“Aw,” said both Jack and Danny.

“But, Mom—”

“No buts. This is a sick day for Danny, and someone needs to look after him the whole time.” She pointed sharply at Jack. “Don’t run off.”

Danny hunched his shoulder. He wasn’t that bad to look after, was he? Not that he wanted to be looked after.

“But if I’m the one to talk to Vladdie, it’ll be faster!”

“It’ll be hours, sweetie, if you two get started. If he doesn’t leave you in the waiting room,” she added under her breath. “You know how you two get.”

“Not when Danny’s at stake!”

Maddie gave him a look.

“Fine,” said Jack.

“Maybe you two can do something together while I’m gone. Fudge, maybe? Or cookies?”

“Oooooh!” said Jack. “Yeah! Cookies! How does that sound, Danno?”

“I have homework,” groused Danny.

“I can help with that, too!”

“Goodbye, guys. Oh! Remember, if I’m not back by lunch, run the tests again, okay?”

“Will do, Maddie!”

“Okay, Mom,” said Danny, giving a little wave.

“Good, good. So, keys, cell phone, wallet, boo-staff—” The door clicked closed, cutting off the rest of her list.

“Okay,” said Jack, thumping Danny’s back and giving him a little shove at the stairs. “I’ll get the kitchen set up! You get your homework!”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “Okay.”

“Fundge here we come!” said Jack, pumping his fist. “Get it? Fundge?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, giving him a weak smile. “I get it.” He started for the stairs, irrationally annoyed he couldn’t fly up them. He wouldn’t have flown up them anyway. He hardly ever did that.

He walked into his room and stopped. Actually, where was his homework? Where was his backpack?

Ugh. Typical.

He started looking behind and underneath things, the process all the more tedious because he couldn’t just reach through them. Hopefully he hadn’t done something stupid like phase it into the wall last night. ‘Oops, I made my homework inaccessible to the living’ was not going to fly in any of his classes… Unless he blamed it on his parents… Food for thought. He paused to email a request for class notes to Sam and Tucker. Halfway through writing the message, he heard the screaming doorbell go off.

“I’ve got it!” called Jack.

“Okay!” Danny hit send on the email and kept looking for his backpack. He dropped to the floor to look under his bed, scowled as it wasn’t there, either, then got up and tripped over his sheets, pulling them off his bed.

Why had he put his backpack in his bed? So stupid.

He shouldered it and prepared to go downstairs, but…

Something was wrong. He thought back, trying to decide what it was. Living… or unliving? Half-living the way he did, he was pretty good at pinpointing the sources of vague senses of wrongness.

It was quiet.

The front door hadn’t shut.

Holy crap, had someone just kidnapped his dad?

Emergency blaster, emergency blaster… He held his backpack by one strap to use as a bludgeon – the books in it were certainly heavy enough – and held the blaster steady in his other hand. He would activate the Defense System, but his parents had ripped a lot of it out after the reveal and were still in the process of reinstallation.

He tapped his door open with his foot and ventured out into the house. It really was too quiet. Almost suffocatingly so. He held his breath. Probably not the best choice, strategically, but something about everything…

He hit the bottom step of the stairs, turned into the kitchen, and ran into two people wearing oxygen masks.

His reflexes were better, so he started firing immediately. Ectoblasters weren’t meant to hurt humans, not really, but the impact to the chest was enough to knock both of the men back. The recoil was equally sufficient to knock the air out of Danny’s lungs. He wasn’t really trying to hold his breath, after all.

He ran past them, inhaling, and… stumbled, suddenly dizzy.

Oxygen masks.

Stupid mistake! Sometimes his instincts were good!

Something touched his upper arm, and he lashed out, swinging his backpack backwards. There was an oof sort of sound, and one of the men toppled over. The other one pulled the backpack out of Danny’s hand, which was a mistake, because he was still holding the gun. Ectogun. Whatever. He shot him.

Then… Outside. Whatever was in here, they couldn’t have enough to get the whole neighborhood, and if they could get away with just oxygen masks, it probably wasn’t super toxic. Also, if it had spread very far, someone in the neighborhood would have noticed. Probably. Maybe.

They’d notice enough to complain, at least.

Halfway through the living room, he had to breathe again. Human physical limits sucked.

Black spots danced over his vision and left him on his knees. He got back up and went for the door, stumbling drunkenly. He hit it with his face. Why were doors so hard to operate?

The black spots slowly grew until they consumed his vision.

“Did… did he just run into a wall?”

“Just because he’s perfect doesn’t mean he smart. And get rid of… we… need… backpack…”

Collins and Paterson stared at the most significant piece of physical evidence regarding Daniel Fenton’s kidnapping.

“If you’re not going to say it, I am,” said Paterson.

“Don’t say it,” said Collins.

“I really want to, though.”

“Don’t.”

“I think ‘my homework ate a kidnapper’ is a great excuse for not doing it. That kid is brutal. How much blood do you think is on that thing?”

“Paterson, he got kidnapped.”

“Yeah,” said Paterson, a grin plastered on her face, “and that’s terrifying, thanks. Let me have this.”

McGee escorted Daily through the front door of Fentonworks, his hand firmly on the man’s shoulder. “Got him,” he said.

“Oh, man,” said Daily. “So, this is what a real crime scene looks like.” He saw the backpack and squeaked. “Is that blood?”

“Yeah. Now do your thing and find out why these two think what happened last night in the park is connected to this. Fenton wasn’t actually involved in that, was he?”

“His family takes care of the gravesite,” said Collins. “And this is the biggest crime in Amity Park for years. We have to look at everything.”

“Uh huh,” said McGee. “Well, I’m going to go back out and question the father.”

Collins groaned internally. Dealing with McGee was usually… if not exactly fun, then at least amusing, but dealing with his everything on a case like this… With Danny’s… possibly with Danny’s life on the line, who knew how that worked with the whole cult thing…

“Do you think we can offload McGee on someone else?” he asked Paterson.

“And give him something to actually report to his bosses? Not a chance.”

#danny phantom #exhumed #cult division #dannymay #dannymay 2023 #dannymay 2023 day 2: backpack

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thewitchoftheweed · 1 year

Text

Candles in the Dark

The President of Narilamb, @furrycultfunnytime, has declared it to be Narilamb Day! Which means I’ve got an excuse to post this drabble instead of working on Red Star!

This work is now part of a multi-chapter fic on AO3!

CWs for: PTSD, panic attacks/nightmares, derealization, mentions of past hallucinations and delusions.

“Hey, I was thinking,” The Lamb says, trying to sound casual. “Why don’t you sleep in here tonight?”

Narinder pauses. He’s still sitting beside them in their bed, about to slip his robe back over his head. Over the past few weeks, they’ve settled into a routine. Narinder comes to visit them at their hut after dinner and sermon; they get intimate in some form or fashion, then Narinder leaves to go sleep in his own hut. They have tried on occasion to coax him into staying, but this is the first time they’ve asked directly. They feel oddly nervous as the question hangs in the air. Out there, amongst the cult, they’re the Lamb; but in here, with Narinder, they’re just Hamal.

“…I wouldn’t want to disturb you,” Narinder says after a long moment.

“You won’t disturb me, Nari.” Hamal wraps their arms around his torso and sets their chin on his shoulder. His fur smells like sex and sheep; they take odd satisfaction in that. “I don’t even really need to sleep; I just do it for fun. But it’s up to you.” They smile and nuzzle their face into his neck. “Nice warm cuddles or a long, cold journey back to your own bed…”

Narinder sighs, amused and exasperated at the same time. “Your eyes are entirely too big and too brown. It makes it difficult to say no to you.”

“You’re not even looking at me,” they laugh. Hamal can’t help it; their tail starts to wag.

“Mhm, but I can feel them,” he says, tilting his head towards them. They smile and pepper his cheek with light kisses, playfully trying to seal the deal. Narinder laughs softly. “Alright, alright. Mercy. I’ll stay.”

They let out an undignified happy bleat and squeeze him close. He tosses his robe back onto the floor. Hamal scoots to the side to make more room, then lies down with their heart fluttering in their chest. Narinder curls up with them; he rests his head on their chest and twines his tail around their leg. They wrap their arms around the black cat and snuggle close. He begins to purr. Hamal is convinced there’s some magic hidden in that soft reverberation; it makes even a god drift off to sleep in record time.

It’s warm underneath the blankets, especially with Narinder there. The low-burning candles cast one last burst of orange light onto the hut’s walls before they fade like a setting sun. Narinder’s purr begins to shift into a soft snore. They smile, close their eyes, and follow him into sleep.

When Hamal wakes again, it’s still dark out. They blink wearily and contemplate going right back to sleep, unsure what roused them to begin with. Then they feel it: Narinder twitches, so hard it’s like a full-body flinch. He’s still curled up against them, but every muscle is suddenly tense. His claws dig into their wool, holding on as though for life itself. He’s breathing hard.

“Nari…?” they say softly. Their hand hovers over his shoulder. Should they try to wake him?

Before they can decide, he screams.

Hamal tries not to flinch, but it’s so sudden and so loud they can’t help it. The movement wakes Narinder. He jolts upward, then claws and kicks off the blankets like they’re trying to suffocate him. He looks around, eyes wild, chest heaving. Hamal sits up, feeling nearly as scared and startled as Narinder looks. His red eyes scan the room, as if looking for something.

“Not real…” Narinder pants. He closes his eyes and cradles his head in his hands, claws digging into his own scalp. “Stop it stop it stop it, not real not real not real—”

“Nari, what’s going on?” He doesn’t answer them, but his ears flatten against the top of his head. His entire body trembles and he keeps muttering to himself. They don’t know what else to do, so they reach over and set a hand on his shoulder. “Nari, look at me, please.”

He tenses as they touch him, but it seems to break the strange trance. Narinder lowers his hands, no longer trying to hide his face, and slowly turns to look at them. There are tears in his eyes, along with something else they’ve never seen in Narinder: sheer terror. It takes them completely off-guard. Hamal aches to pull him into a hug and reassure him, but he’s shaking so badly they’re afraid one wrong move will make whatever this is significantly worse.

After a long moment, he asks, voice small and strained, “Is this real?”

“What? Of course it is,” Hamal says. But Narinder doesn’t look convinced. They suddenly remember what he said to them when they first laid together, when he fell asleep beside them in the woods: “It can be difficult for me to tell the difference between dream and reality when I first wake.” Hamal supposes that nightmares are even worse in that respect.

After a moment of him just staring at them, tearful and terrified, Hamal can’t stand it anymore. They reach out and gently grab one of his hands. They pull it toward them and set it on their wool. “Here, feel this. Real, genuine wool. Can’t get that just anywhere, these days.”

His fingers curl into the wool, as though testing to see if it’s really there. Narinder’s breath starts to slow down. Encouraged, they grab his other hand and set it on their own cheek. “It’s me, Hamal. Your Lamb. Remember?”

Narinder’s hands are still shaking, but he’s calming down. He no longer looks terrified of them, at least. His thumb traces the curve of their jaw. “My Lamb.”

“See?” They smile. “You’re ok. I’m right here; I’m real.”

He goes on staring at them.

Hamal sighs, their hands dropping back into their own lap. The fear is gone, but there’s confusion in Narinder’s eyes. Like Hamal is speaking a language he doesn’t understand, but he’s trying to. He’s there with them, but part of him is still lodged somewhere in the nightmare. They try to think of something to say, something profound, something that will convince him this is real.

Instead they blurt out, “I changed the whole hut so you would want to sleepover with me.”

Narinder blinks. “…what?”

“You kept dodging it every time I hinted you could stay the night, so I thought you didn’t like something about the hut.” In retrospect, it’s a bit silly. Narinder typically has no problem telling them when something isn’t cleaned to his standards or suited to his tastes. “I did it a little bit at a time so you wouldn’t notice I was doing it.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “Like what?”

“This was straw. Now it’s a featherbed.” They pat the mattress beneath them.

Narinder’s eyes follow their hand. He runs his own palm across the fabric. “…I thought I tore a hole in the old one.”

“I mean, a couple, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t mend. But then I thought, hey, I’m a god. Why not?” Hamal seems to have captured his attention, if nothing else. They keep going. “I also got a shitload of candles. An embarrassing amount, actually.”

That earns a real smile. It’s a small one, but it’s genuine and wholly Narinder. “How many is an ‘embarrassing amount candles’?”

“Do you really want to know?” Hamal asks.

He looks them up and down, skeptically. “…yes?”

They heave a sigh. Without another word, they hop off the bed and kneel beside it. Hamal reaches underneath and pulls out two boxes of a dozen plain beeswax candles, neatly stacked on top of each other.

“That isn’t so bad,” Narinder says.

They hold up a hand, indicating for him to wait, then pull out the other six boxes also stored beneath the bed. Narinder’s bewildered smile becomes one of genuine amusement. Hamal would love to pretend that’s it, but he asked, so they’ll continue to embarrass themself if it keeps him focused on them. “I suppose that is a fair amount of candles, but it’s not—”

“That’s not all of them,” they say, as solemnly as they can manage. They go over to the new wardrobe and open the bottom two drawers— both empty save for four more boxes of candles. They pull them out and stack them on top of the others.

“…I suppose that could qualify as an embarrassing amount.”

“Still not done,” they say. They walk over to the table, draped with a plain red cloth that touches the floor, and pulls out four more boxes from beneath it.

Narinder starts to laugh. When Hamal turns back toward him he’s still sitting on the bed, doubled over, new tears rolling down his face. He’s laughing so hard it’s difficult for him to speak. “Why in the world…would you…why would you…that’s…”

He forces himself to sit up properly and counts the boxes. A dozen candles to a box, sixteen boxes. Hamal needs to write down that sort of math to figure it out, but Narinder can do it in his head. “…192 candles!”

Hamal grins, a little abashed, but mostly pleased that they seem to have broken through whatever fog his nightmare left him in. They sit beside him on the bed. “Well, I know how much you like to read, and I know you like to have one or two lit when you’re going to sleep. I thought it might make you feel more at home, and I didn’t want to run out in case you needed extras.”

Narinder looks around the hut at the boxes full of candles, the last few laughs fading into a soft chuckle. He wipes at his face with the back of his hand. “Only you. You are…”

“Ridiculous?” they offer.

“A bit, but I was going to say extraordinary,” Narinder says. He grabs their hand and turns it over, running his thumb across their palm. “I couldn’t dream you up if I tried.”

They smile. “Convinced I’m real then?”

“Yes,” he says. He leans against them and interlaces his fingers with theirs. “I…apologize. I held off on sleeping here for this reason. I didn’t want to run the risk of saying or doing something harmful when I wasn’t…all here.” He can’t seem to look at them as he speaks, gaze cast downward at the floor as though ashamed.

Hamal grasps him gently by the chin and turns his face toward them. “You don’t have to apologize, Nari. Even if you did do or say something ‘harmful’, we’ve literally tried to kill each other before. I think I could get over it, especially if you only did or said it because you were confused.”

He smiles slightly at that, but it fades quickly. There’s a sadness that lingers behind his eyes. “There was a moment there I thought I’d imagined you. All of it. The prophecy, the Lamb, this.”

“Was that the nightmare?” they venture a guess.

Narinder nods once. “It wouldn’t have been the first time I…it happened a few times, in the veil. Believing I was about to be free, or that I was already. The return to reality was always…unpleasant.”

They try not to think about it, but the memory surfaces regardless: giant arms stripped to the bone, cuffs stained with black godsblood and ragged flesh. Nearly a thousand years alone, barely able to move, screaming into in an empty white prison. Sometimes, Hamal wishes they could kill the Bishops all over again. They cannot imagine inflicting that sort of fate on someone they love.

Hamal squeezes Narinder’s hand reassuringly. “This is the reality now.”

Without warning, Narinder pulls them into a fierce hug. He squeezes them tight and buries his face in their neck. Hamal returns the embrace and doesn’t dare break it; they’ll hold him for the rest of the night if that’s what he needs.

After a prolonged silence, he slowly relinquishes his grip on them. They’ve watched him run through the gamut of emotion, but now he seems more tired than anything. He lays down again and wordlessly pulls Hamal with him. They cuddle close once more; he rests his head against their chest, they wrap a protective arm around him. Narinder sighs, exhausted in several ways. At last he says, “I don’t deserve this. You.”

“Yeah, you do,” Hamal says dismissively.

He doesn’t lift his head from their chest, but his red eyes flicker to look up at them. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“I love you. So you deserve the world, because I said so.” They punctuate the sentiment by giving him a playful squeeze.

He smiles softly and nuzzles his face into their wool. “I suppose as the last god ‘because I said so’ trumps any argument I could hope to make.”

“Exactly,” Hamal says, grinning. “Try and get some sleep, Nari. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Narinder lifts his head to look at them one last time, as if to ensure they aren’t going to evaporate into smoke the second he looks away. They smile and run their cloven hand through the fur on his back, another physical reminder that he’s cozy and safe, no longer chained and alone. He smiles at that and once again rests his cheek against their wool, his eyes beginning to drift closed.

Hamal kisses the tips of his ears and hugs him close. They say it again, softer this time: “I’m here. Always.”

The purr begins again, quieter than before, but it’s there. “My thanks, Lamb.”

#Cult of the Lamb #Cult of the Lamb fanfic #narilamb #whump #fluff #past hurt all comfort #true devotion #i love them your honor #narilamb fanfic

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