#fic trope: only one bed

[vaszametili]

Gone Hunting [ao3] fanart 🥰

[jackshiccup]

re-reading chapter 15 of otnwas and my god the mental gymnastics hiccup was going through (while on a training drill and hiking through the snow btw) to try and convince himself that he didn't like jack and was only drawn to him bc jack was a good person...... my brother in thor ..... do i have news for u....

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

sometimes, as a fanfic writer, I worry about doing something that's already been done before. there's already a story with this pairing and trope, or this character and situation, etc.

of course, like many other fic readers, I like to see my favorite blorbos falling in love over and over or in the same sexy situations, but just a little differently each time.

it hit me today that it's not just fic readers who do this. you know how there's a gazillion covers of the same christmas songs? look up "have yourself a merry little christmas." there are so many covers. sure, some of them are our favorites, but if that song is a banger, you're going to listen to it performed and recorded in a million ways and still think it's awesome.

so, maybe next time when you're looking for a new fic that features your main idiots in love, pining after each other for the billionth time, and wondering why you do this, just know that there are people who love listening to "grandma got run over by a reindeer" sung by a diversity of voices.

if that's ok, so is reading about your little meow meows being repeatedly emotionally scarred or falling in love. or sharing one bed. or going from enemies to lovers.

the world that has many renditions of" grandma got run over by a reindeer" definitely has room for more stories of your blorbos.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

okay if you had to "there was only one bed!" two of the guys, what do you think would be the funniest combo?

Okay, so "funniest" is very subjective. Let's go to the bullets for this one:

Bucky and Buck: Fucking hilarious as mutual idiots pining trying not to touch each other even though they ALWAYS touch each other, so the effort to NOT is actually the funniest goddamn thing. Go to bed back to back but NOT TOUCHING and wake up cuddled like puppies. But they're fucking idiots, so they snap apart like two magnets with the same polarity and try and pretend like NOTHING IS WEIRD. Good news for us, they have to do this A SECOND TIME. And this time. Well, fuck it. "We always touch, Bucky. Why is this weird?" / "It's...intimate." / "What about us isn't?" And then the same second realization hits, and they snap the bed frame with the victory fuck.

Buck and Curt and Bucky: Zero attempts at sex. Curt grew up sharing a bed with siblings and wakes up drooling on Buck's chest with his legs on Bucky's stomach. Kicks Bucky in the dick in his sleep.

Bubbles and Crosby: No platonic cuddling issues. But then they both wake up with boners, and um. Well. Huh. Maybe we should pretend that didn't happen. Crosby makes it ten minutes before his brain sends him into the bathroom while Bubbles is trying to jerk off and frantically NOT say Crosby's name. Crosby shouts, trips on nothing, and takes out the shower curtain as he lands in the tub. They laugh so hard they cry. During their first kiss, Crosby gets shampoo in his eyes.

Rosie and Ken: They both stare at the bed, and then Rosie blurts out, "I can take the couch," and Ken says, "No, I can," and somehow as they argue about it, Rosie ends up saying, "No, look, you have to take the bed because if I take the bed, all I'll think about is you NOT being on the bed." And it's a fucking rom-com moment of cuteness that ends with them both going for the kiss and hitting their noses together hard.

Bucky and Curt: There's no drama. Just some quality fuck and snuggle time. Curt is absolutely the big spoon.

Curt and Ken: Look. Curt's the biggest slut in the 100th. Even past Bucky. And he will remind you. "What do I care, Kenny? I've been in beds with people I've known a lot less about." / "Fuck, your sex life must be average." / "What?" / "The best sex is with someone who knows you." / "Prove it." Anyway, it's filthy.

Douglass and Hambone: Hambone bites in his sleep. Feral motherfucker. In his defense, he got that gold tooth after his brother punched him in his sleep. So.

Douglass and Blakely: Both silently wishing for a tree to run into full-faced to not have to lie next to each other and have the yearnings. Crosby is actually there as well and calls dibs on the couch, which leads them both to yelling WHAT and then staring at each other. Crosby takes the couch and knocks out and sleeps like the dead. Douglass and Blakely figure it out.

Demarco and Macon: Macon calls dibs because of his neck. Demarco offers to rub his neck once he's had a shower because he knows it hurts. Just as they're both realizing that maybe they're into each other, Meatball takes a running leap onto the bed because he has not been paid attention for a full five minutes.

Bucky and Brady: Brady intentionally sticks his cold feet on Bucky and cackles with glee. Bucky body slams him onto the bed, which just makes Brady laugh more.

Jack and Bucky: There is nothing funny here. Jack outranks Bucky, and Bucky can sleep in the fucking tub for all Jack fucking cares. Bucky sleeps on the floor on the side of the bed Jack sleeps on just in case he can trip him in the middle of the night. Jack kicks him in the eye by accident. It's the funniest night of Bucky's life.

Bucky and Marge: Oh no. What will they do. Clearly just platonic friends on a trip to meet Marge's husband at his new base. However could they--they fuck. They call Buck long distance and they fuck.

Buck and Marge: Oh, they absolutely call Bucky long distance and fuck. And then Bucky drives five hours to meet them at the hotel for a fuck at dawn.

Jack and Rosie: Jack is dying slowly because he's had a crush since Rosie was first a dork in the officer's club, and now he's seen him fly and be such a good fucking leader. Meanwhile, Rosie's brain is just the Wii background music because Jack's so nice! What a great friend! But then he realizes Jack only sleeps in his boxers, and oh fucking shit i might have a problem.

Ken and Winks: What's weird about this. They've been sharing a pup tent by the runway for months. A whole bed? And they can cuddle but ALSO turn over? HEY!

Jack and Harding: Jack does NOT have feelings for his CO. That's not a thing he is dealing with. Nope. Harding does NOT have feelings for his Air Exec. That's not something he is dealing with. Nope. But turns out they're both horrific insomniacs and they end up talking and well. It works out.

Meatball and Demarco: There is one bed, and Meatball spoons Demarco.

Meatball and anyone else: It's Meatball's bed. What the fuck do you think you're doing.

[security-chief-odo]

The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 2

Eliot Spencer (Leverage) x Reader

Read chapter 1 here

Word Count: ~1.6k

Summary: The rehearsal and rehearsal dinner kick off the wedding weekend. Will your family believe your lie, will you be able to keep your feelings a secret from Eliot?

• • •

In the weeks before Eliot and you had already laid out an iron-clad backstory and decided that some PDA would be necessary when your family is around. Even with your plan falling into place, getting in the car to go has you beyond nervous. Though you can’t say your family is what has you so nervous about this trip anymore.

The wedding venue is a two hour drive from the loft and Elliot insists on driving, an offer you gladly accept so you could get a nap in before dealing with the chaos this weekend has in store.

Both you and Eliot are nicely dressed already as you were heading straight to the rehearsal dinner. Eliot is donning a light gray suit that fits him a little too well. You’re wearing a cocktail dress, which leaves you shivering as the evening chill rolls in with the sunset as you near the venue.

You stir from your slumber to the sound of Eliot whispering your name. At some point during the drive he must have taken his jacket off because you now found it wrapped around you like a blanket.

There is no way you’ll survive this weekend if just the smell of his cologne on his jacket has you ready to confess your feelings, but it’s too late to back out now.

Finally looking out the window, you see you’re at the wedding venue, so you sit up as Eliot gets out of the car. You stretch lightly as he opens your car door. He takes the jacket and folds it on his arm, offering you his other hand to help you out of the car.

“How do I look?” you look down at your outfit before looking up at him for an answer.

“Almost perfect, may I?” he asks. You nod and he begins adjusting your necklace that had gone askew as you rested, then he fixes the few strands of hair that no longer laid as neatly as before. “Now you look perfect.”

Your face flushed as you looked into his eyes, “Thank you again for doing this whole thing for me. You’re really saving my ass here.”

“Happy to help darlin’” He offers you his arm to hold as he gestures towards the doors.

The rehearsal goes off without a hitch, and you now find yourself seated at the restaurant, with Eliot’s arm resting on the back of your chair.

He is sitting next to your mom who just can’t seem to get enough of him. As she regales him with stories about your family drama, he moves his hand to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. Your breath hitches as he absentmindedly traces his thumb across your leg.

Neither you nor Eliot have been drinking much, but the flush on your cheeks could have the whole room fooled.

Your mom, on the other hand, is just past tipsy when Eliot excuses himself to go to the bathroom. As he gets up he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be right back sweetheart.”

You not-so-subtly check out his ass as he exits the room and you take a sip of the glass of wine you've been nursing all night. Your mom leans in and tells you “That man is a keeper.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Do you not see him y/n?” your mom is looking at you incredulously, “He’s gorgeous, a perfect gentleman, and don’t even get me started on the way he looks at you.”

So maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to convince your family of your relationship after all. Eliot has clearly already sold your mother on it, perhaps a little too well. “I don’t know, mom. I’m not sure he’s as into me as I am into him. It’s only been a couple months anyways”

You figure sprinkling in the truth will make it more believable when your eventual “break up” happens, and at least they'll feel bad enough to comfort you once you're through breaking your own heart. You put yourself in this situation, so you swallow your disappointment down with another sip of wine.

“Honey, Eliot looks at you like you hung the moon and stars,” she pauses, seemingly lost in thought, “ I think you’re wrong about him.” She shrugs and walks away to go talk to your sister.

You can practically feel your blood run cold as James, your ex-boyfriend, approaches you for the first – and hopefully last – time this weekend. “You should listen to your mother. You’re definitely wrong about your new boy toy.”

He clearly has only caught the last bit of your mom’s statement. A fact that becomes more evident as he continues on with his drunken rambling. “He probably only came here with you because you’re dressed like a fucking whore. He just thinks he can get some, but that’s not gonna happen. We both know you’re still not over me.”

“Fuck off, James.” you spit out quietly, hoping not to make a scene.

“Why? Can’t handle the truth sweetheart?” That word had felt so right when Eliot had said it, but it now felt like poison on your ears.

“Don’t call me that.” you move to walk away but he blocks your path.

“Oh,” he laughs with a venom to his voice that is all too familiar to you. “Now I get it, maybe pretty boy is right. You did move on – by moving under every guy in town. Maybe this one’s just bored enough to keep a slut like you around, at least until the next girl with daddy issues and–.”

Before you could get another word in, Eliot comes to your rescue. He isn’t exactly sure what is happening but his heart breaks a little when he sees the relief cross your face at his arrival. He wraps a protective arm around you “Hey beautiful,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. This left James to walk away in a huff.

Eliot pulled you into a hug, kicking himself for ever leaving you alone. He excused himself to the bathroom just to collect himself. Every time he holds you, every time you brush his hair back, every time your eyes meet, he feels terrified you’ll figure out just how in love he really is. He has been in love with you from the moment you joined the team.

He is supposed to be here to make your weekend easier, but let you down because he can’t control his emotions. He whispers in your ear, “You ok?” and his body relaxes when you nod against his chest.

Pulling away, you rest a hand on his chest while his hands settle on your waist. “He’s just drunk and thinks he can still get under my skin. It’s no big deal, really.”

“Well why don’t we head back to the hotel anyways? Tomorrow will be a long day” Your heart sinks a little, knowing that behind closed doors, you’ll just go back to being friends. No arm around you, no hand resting right above your knee, and no more kissing.

***

You get your key card from the front desk and grab your bags from the car. Opening up the door to the room, you stop dead in your tracks. Your sister had booked you a single bed. Of course she had. You were staying with your “boyfriend”, so what else would she have done?

Eliot enters behind you and notices your predicament. The way you’ve frozen confirms all of his fears about how you feel about him. “It’s ok, I’ll just call down for some extra bedding and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, I’ll do that. You’re doing me a favor. The least I can do is let you have the bed.”

He moves closer, some of the nervous tension having dissipated, “Darlin’ you’ll be up and on your feet all day tomorrow, in heels no less. You need it more than I do.”

“Well I’m not going to sleep unless you take the bed.”

“Well I won’t either until you do. Two can play at this game sweetheart.”

You’d be lying if you said the pet names didn’t make you feel something, and maybe that’s why you say “Well then I guess we’ll have to share.”

The challenging look in your eyes as you stare Eliot down fills his body with a familiar warmth, and maybe that’s why he replies, “I guess so.”

With that resolved you grab your pajamas and take a quick shower before heading to bed. When you exit the bathroom in your short shorts and tank top, Eliot is lying shirtless on his side of the bed with a movie playing on the TV.

An almost silent tension fills the room as you both struggle between checking the other out, and desperately avoiding checking the other out for fear of being caught.

You climb into bed and settle in, watching the movie Eliot had turned on. He had been watching 10 Things I Hate About You, so you turn to him with a questioning look and wordlessly point to the TV.

Immediately defensive, “What? This is a goddamn cinematic masterpiece.”

“Fair enough. Just didn’t peg you for a rom-com kinda guy.”

“Well there’s plenty you don’t know about me y/n”

With your amusement evident in your voice, you reply “Goodnight, Eliot”

“Goodnight, doll.”

You both drift off to sleep, only dreaming of each other’s touch.

• • •

Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy @xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes

Let me know what you think or if you want to be added to the series taglist!

Read chapter 3 here!

[thatginchygal]

New 12/20

Shelagh and Patrick attend a conference just prior to Christmas. With Shelagh pining after the handsome doctor, what might fate have in store for them?

(A few Christmases ago I attempted ‘fake dating’. This year it’s all about ‘one bed’. So have a Christmas laden fun-filled dorks to lovers one bed romp from me to you. ❤️💚💚❤️)

Thanks as always to my bestie, @fourteen-teacups , for her invaluable advice and for listening to me be like—‘I wanna write a one bed fic. Let me dither for a month though, first.’ Love you!! ❤️❤️

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, all!! 🎄💚❤️💚❤️🎄

[redneckangelsdrinkmoonshine]

Selfless self promo right here!

If you're looking for a fix-it fic, where Dean deals with his emotions and takes responsibility for his actions, Sam's into witchcraft and is besties with Rowena, Castiel is a confident and badass motherfucker who doesn't need anyone, AND there are Gen Z hunters everywhere taking over the business, click below!!!

This is dedication to a very dear friend of mine. This fic wouldn't have been possible without them. They listened to my rants and stupid head-canons until we finally made sense of the mess in my brain. Thank you to @some1sworld for everything, you make college seem bearable.

[slytherizz]

💚Azkaban!Seb Fic is a year old today💚

[cowboyobject]

Hey Mark, quick question - what the fuck are you trying to do to Fernando here? What are you trying to grab there buddy? What does this achieve for you Mark???

[best-fanfic-trope]

Round 1: Fix it Fic vs. There Was Only One Bed

Fix it Fic

don't you think you could write cannon better? you probably can!

There Was Only One Bed

oh no, you must let down your guard enough to let yourself fall asleep in the presence of another human!

(read fics that people submitted!)

[england-would-fall]

Wake up besties, new FirstPrince fic dropped! With love and adoration for the epic @anincompletelist

Grounded In Fact on AO3

Red, White & Royal Blue

FirstPrince, aka Alex/Henry

Rated Explicit, but the smut is below a line break

No Archive Warnings

Word count 5,099

It’s crack, my dudes. And it’s funny.

Summary:

When Georgetown grad student Henry's and Alex's flights home are cancelled for bad weather, they secure the last room at a nearby hotel. Henry Fox, facing the prospect of sharing a bed with his roommate/love of his life/friend he has never confessed his feelings to, enters into an epic state of Gay Panic (tm). Come on in and watch as Henry Who Is Experiencing The Greatest Tragedy Since The Burning Of Alexandria navigates this very real and not at all in-his-head crisis.

[familyabolisher]

of all the boring opinions you can have about genre lit i do think the funniest one is complaining that romance novels read too much like fanfiction

[psychotic-nonsense]

This was originally planned to be its own fic, with background and build up and ✨️longing✨️, but I don't think it'll work out. Can't write slow burn to save my life.

Enjoy this bit of it because I'm still gonna be thinking about it.

Context - Post Vecna, a few days after the gates open. Eddie lives, barely, and has some trouble moving. Max survives, though with impaired vision and legs, Vecna having taken barely enough from her to open the gates. The Party finds an abandoned shelter outside of town after everybody reunites, using it as their base.

-----------

It's logical, he tries to reason. It makes sense, it's the only real way to handle this situation.

The kids are all bunking together, no doubt turning the entire floor into one single bed. With the Cali-Crew (quote Dustin) finally back home, no one would dare try and separate them. Besides, the fight over who got to bunk with Max to watch over her injuries was getting too annoying for anyone to keep dealing with.

The adults are bunking together as well. Having one guy sleeping alone in a room each during these times, when danger was prominent every single night, seemed weird to the Russians and Wayne. Plus, as Murray jokes, it "keeps an eye on Hop and Joyce at night" (he got a few punches for that one, laughing all the while).

But the teens started this whole thing - or rather, Argyle did. The second they found out how many rooms there were available in the shelter, he called shotgun on one for just him and Jonathan. The adults reluctantly agreed to it, so Nancy took the chance and grabbed a room for her and Robin, to everyone's surprise.

Which left one last pairing.

Steve did look a little upset about not getting to bunk with Robin (and if you ask Eddie, a little scared, but he won't even try and think of the reason). But upon her and Nancy's shrug and responding, "Girls night," he conceded with an eye roll and a sighed, "Girls night..." before immediately grabbing Eddie to take the room in the middle of the hall.

And that seemed to be Steve's only grievance about bunking with Eddie. Everything else he's seen in the past few days of their recovery, his quirks and struggles alike, he looks ready to take in stride.

Eddie sleeps far from the door with his spear and shield next to him? "I would've fought you on that first, man. And hey, my bed back home has a bat on each side. This thing never leaves me."

Eddie's gauze leaks through with shit from his wounds? He can barely walk to the door without shaking? "We dealt with the same bats, Eds, it's okay, I got you."

Eddie has a big emotional gay crush on the guy and everytime he's called "Eds" he wants to beg for Steve to hold him and never let go?...Well, Steve doesn't know about that one, but it's only a matter of time honestly.

Especially considering the damn sleeping arrangement, which makes itself prominent the second they open the door.

While the rooms themselves aren't so bad, considering the age of this place, Steve and Eddie got lucky enough to find the one room with only one proper bed. Connected bathroom and pull out couch, yeah, sure, cool. But the springs in the couch are rusted through and snapped shut when Eddie tried to open it, so that's a no.

And Steve, still recoiling from the bang of the couch, had the audacity to try and suggest he sleep on the floor?!

"Hell no, Steve!" Eddie immediately fought. Showing too much care that it makes Steve look shocked. "Do you know how many rats could've been crawling around on that? We can clean the bed, but who knows what's hiding in those cracks? Just take the bed and I'll sleep on the couch-"

"After that thing almost exploded?!" Steve exclaimed back. He's a little concerned, with his puffed chest and hands on his hips countered by the softer give in his eyes. "No way, Eds, not with your bites still fucking you up." Stop looking at his eyes, Munson. "I'll just get another bed from the spare rooms-"

"Nope, not happening either." Steve may still be the hot ass jock he was in high school, but a year out of the gym and his own wounds in his sides and back would make just that torture. Because there's no doubt he'll reject any help, try and do it all his own. And Eddie refuses to let him run into pain again. "The couch works just fine as is, and I can barely move anyway, so no harm no foul, right?"

"You could fall off," Steve responds, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"You'll get rabies on that floor," Eddie counters. Then he tilts his head to the side, a lilt in his tone. "Can't worry our dear Buckley, now can we?"

Steve snorts at that, making Eddie smile. Goddamn it, Munson. "You wouldn't be able to get up on your own from the couch," Steve counters yet again, smiling like it's a competition now.

"You wouldn't be able to get up at all," Eddie fights back.

"The bed probably stinks."

"And you'd still let me go up there?"

"You need actual sleep."

"So do you."

"...You wouldn't wanna move rooms?"

"Steve, you don't even want to move."

They're both smiling so wide it has to hurt Steve the way it hurts Eddie. Every counter they've taken a step forward until they're almost face to face, same height even with Eddie's trembling from sliced nerves.

Someone has to break soon - "Then take the damn bed, Munson!" - and it turns out to be Eddie. Because of course.

"Only if you do too!"

There isn't enough metal in the walls for the words to be echoing this much. It's the first retort Steve's actually affected by, flinching back just a hair but it's enough. His expression goes from giddiness to a kind of seriousness Eddie can't decipher.

Eddie's frozen solid. He doesn't want to know what he looks like, knows enough how his eyes are way too wide, that his mouth is stumbling over words it can't make. Look who's really fucked up now, the dude saved your life and you two are finally friends, and you're repaying the favor by asking him to sleep with you. Shameful, disgusting, inconsiderate...

But Steve's looking over at the bed. Assessing the dust covered sheets, the pillows and slightly moldy headboard, and then...

He fucking shrugs like it's no big deal and is saying "Okay," like it doesn't stab Eddie right in the throat, making him squeak as he's brought out of his head into something that cannot be reality.

"Okay?" Eddie responds, incredulous, watching Steve go over to their duffel bags in the hall.

"If it means you'll back down, sure. That thing's big enough for the both of us anyway." Steve throws the bags on the couch, flinching a little when he stands up straight again. "You could've just suggested that from the start, Eds, could've saved us the trouble with the death trap over here." He jokes, nodding at the couch.

But Eddie doesn't catch it, shocked in silence. Making a big deal out of nothing because of his stupid stupid heart. "You're serious?"

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he's offended by Eddie's surprise. The mirth in his eyes hasn't faded though. "I'm not scared of a little sleepover, man. And if it wasn't you it was gonna be Robin, so don't think you're special." He walks over to the bed as he says that, but Eddie still catches the fear in his eyes again. The one flavored with loneliness.

But as Steve starts carefully pulling the sheets off the bed, he softens again, meeting Eddie's eyes with a kindness that's so genuine. Breath, Munson, that's a thing you need. "Seriously though, Eds, I'm cool with it, don't worry. We've both been through some worse shit than this, yet I'm still here. So are you." Steve averts his eyes, looking almost sheepish as Eddie's heart basically implodes. "Don't think you can push me away now. You're stuck here, like it or not."

Steve occupies his hands with collecting the sheets, so carefully trying not to send dust everywhere. Eddie finally breaks out of his stupor, smiling as his chest sags in relief. Crush or not, Steve proves Eddie's little Upside Down speech right every single damn day. Playful and sarcastic and strong, but the hidden consideration and softness and care showing through. Every. Single. Time.

Steve reaches for the thin bed cover at the bottom, but Eddie's already there on the other side, pulling it out of his grasp. His head snaps up, surprise to open fondness. "You sure about that, Stevie?" Eddie jokes, slowly bunching up the sheet in his hands. Knows the truth is peeking through. "I've been called quite the unforgiving bunk mate."

Steve blinks at his words, searching him for something Eddie doesn't want to know. But then he's smiling too, not looking away as he goes for the pillows. "As long as you don't snore, I'll be the judge of that."

-----------

Eddie does snore.

Not outright, it's a barely there grumble if you get technical. But it comes up sometimes when he sleeps on his back, and thanks to those glorious bites, he's forced to. Thus, snoring. Steve would probably make fun of it, play up the annoyance and make a joke of it to get Eddie to laugh.

But they're both fast asleep. Steve in just sweatpants and Eddie in a shirt and shorts, on opposite ends of the bed, passed out with the exhaustion of the last week still weighing them down.

They're no better than the rest of the Party, their new base of operations providing them all a sense of safety no trailer or winnebago has before. Granting them all the deepest sleep they've had yet.

Still, the unconscious Steve shuffles in his sleep in the dead of night. His brain is a hive of noise in times like these, making his subconscious dark and uncomfortable. He's deep in slumber, exhaustion keeping him trapped down, so his body tries to counteract it, twisting and turning to find sanctuary.

The unconscious Eddie isn't faring any better. Even in sleep he's restless, his usual positions consisting of shuffling legs, constant turning, and the tight cradling of a pillow, all in the attempts to keep his body down and still. But with the wounds, he can hardly breathe without straining against them. Every attempt his subconscious makes to move, a sharp burst of pain shoots into his dreams, and he stops with a groaning snore. And though the blankets they could salvage are thick and comfortable, this new Hawkins post-Vecna is cold at night, and Eddie is too exposed to not feel the shivers rack his body, flaring the pain further.

With a sleepy mumble, Steve shuffles into the bed a little further, his brow straining against his mind's assault. At the same time, Eddie turns his head onto his uninjured cheek, the only movement his body will allow.

Steve squirms and it strains at the wounds in his back, so against the bruising pain of the bites, he turns over into his side. He's got more freedom than Eddie there, so while his body slowly settles against the pain, his other arm comes around to find peace in the sheets below. Anything to ground him from the memories swirling fast like rushing lake water.

And it finds something. Something solid, soft, real and breathing and alive and safe. Steve's too deep in sleep to comprehend it past that, so his fingers just run softly over it, savoring the tranquility it offers his rattled head.

Likewise, Eddie's snoring abruptly quiets with a breathy exhale. Something has grabbed hold of his upper arm. Soft and moving but it's warm, radiating heat up to his shoulder blade and down into his fingertips. Thankful and desperate, his subconscious moves him to shuffle sideways, face straining against the pain in search of the aid that'll soothe it.

At the same time, Steve also searches for more of that feeling, the edge of darkness licking at his heels as he tries to escape. Closes the gap.

Steve is now laying nearly on top of Eddie's right side, arm draped over his chest and head finding solace in the crook of his neck. All the while, both of them completely unconscious.

Steve's brain goes blissfully silent, the presence of another comforting his innate fears and driving away the darkness into a muted haze. It pulls his mind completely away from whatever pain resides in his torso, and he relaxes fully with a soft mumble.

Eddie sags into the bed with a deep exhale. The warmth digs deep into his bones, burning away the cold and restless twitching in his nerves. The pressure on his side adds to the weight on his mind, dragging him deeper into sleep. The pressure on his chest is just barely off of his wounds, soothing the stabbing in his gut in to a soft pulsing.

He leans more into it, meeting Steve breath for breath. Letting their hearts match in beat, sinking into peace. It's the safest and most comfortable they've been since hell froze over.

But as the night goes on, they'll slowly drift apart. When the sun rises they'll be separate once again. Their minds will only remember the peace, their bodies the vague touch of comfort.

Despite everything, they'll be none the wiser.

Despite everything, the next night, they'll long for it again.

And despite everything, they would find it.

[rattengott]

to read, write, etc. Whichever way you want to vote I’m just curious what the most preferred one is. I know I skipped a ton but there’s def too many to list here

[resident-gay-bitch]

please reblog for a bigger sample size <3

[minaturefics]

Legolas has officially won the poll! Please keep sending through your prompts/ideas/tropes/whatever! I'll close the ask box in a week and start writing the piece.