#still... my fucking hair. just. the worst anyone has ever done it .

[moe-broey]

.................... Guess who gave himself a shit ass haircut and got haunted by another shaggy haired blonde about it.

[say-al0e]

Movie Night

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)

“I think I’m going to ask him out.”

Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.

A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind. 

The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a  weary glance.

Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.

“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”

Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.

“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.

Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.

Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.

And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.

Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.

“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”

“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.

Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”

The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.

“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”

Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.

“You’re really into him?” 

Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.

A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.

“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”

Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”

With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.

“Steve.”

An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”

Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”

Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”

“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”

“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”

With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.

“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”

Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”

Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."

Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.

“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.

Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.

“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”

A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.

“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”

Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”

“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”

“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”

Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.

“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”

“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice. 

Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.

For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.

The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.

There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.

And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.

At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.

“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.

Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.

“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”

“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”

Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”

“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”

As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”

“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move -  as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”

The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”

Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”

“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”

There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”

It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”

“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”

Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”

For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.

Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.

It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.

“Do I make you nervous?”

The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”

“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”

“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”

“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”

“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”

As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”

Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”

“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”

That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”

“God, we’re kinda gross.”

“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”

For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.

“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”

With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.

The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.

As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.

Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.

“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.

“We can rewind it later.” 

Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.

Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear. 

“Want to kiss you more.”

He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.

Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.

Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.

“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”

“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”

“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”

“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”

“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.

“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”

The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.

“I’m closer than you think.”

Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.

“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“

“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”

Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”

Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.

“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”

“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”

Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.

“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”

“You’re killing me. Fuck.”

Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.

Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.

Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.

Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.

It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.

But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”

The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.

For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”

Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”

As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, hm?”

Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.

Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.

With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.

“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”

A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.

“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”

“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”

Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”

“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”

Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.

A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”

It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”

“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”

Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”

“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.

However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.

Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.

This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.

Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”

Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.

The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.

Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.

Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”

With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.

Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams. 

For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.

When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.

“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”

With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”

“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”

Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”

Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.

__________________________________________________

Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐓 ( a collection of sentence starters from season one of amazon's fallout show. feel free to adjust the wording and pronouns as needed! do not add to the list. )

❛  and in that respect, he could be a cannibal or just like, crammed full of tumours. ❜ ❛  flesh is weak but steel endures. ❜ ❛  unless you know what to find and preserve, you're more useful as a corpse. ❜ ❛  how do we know they're not feral? ❜ ❛  well what makes you think i give a good goddamn about that? ❜ ❛  well what the fuck would you know 'bout where i'm from? ❜ ❛  but for me, well, i do this shit for the love of the game. ❜ ❛  you come from a place of rules, of laws. this place is indifferent to all of that. ❜ ❛  question is, will you still want the same things when you have become a different animal altogether? ❜ ❛  you earn the suit through acts of bravery. this is an act of bravery. ❜ ❛  and i'm telling you you're gonna go through a whole lot worse if you stay 'round here. trust me. ❜ ❛  clean hair. nice teeth. and all ten fingers. must be nice. ❜ ❛  the vaults were nothing more than a hole in the ground for rich folks to hide in while the rest of the world burned. ❜ ❛  you know your kind ain't welcome here. ❜ ❛  you gotta be fucking kidding me. ❜ ❛  you'll be lucky if you can make it to fucking breakfast. ❜ ❛  i'm sorry for yellin', been shot in the leg. ❜ ❛  do you have anyone else you can trust in this town? ❜ ❛  do i really have to kill him? ❜ ❛  well, if you like the taste of lavender, why not just drink a bottle of perfume? ❜ ❛  that's the worst thing i've ever put in my mouth. that's horrible. ❜ ❛  do unto others as you would have done unto you. ❜ ❛  thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time. ❜ ❛  water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. ❜ ❛  where do you think you're going? you ain't going nowhere. ❜ ❛  there you are, you little killer. ❜ ❛  no! what a disgusting idea. i'm simply going to harvest your organs. ❜ ❛  i may end up looking like you, but i'll never be like you. ❜ ❛  i really wanna believe you but practically every person i've met up here has tried to kill me. ❜ ❛  listen, hey. you don't get this medicine, you're gonna pass out, okay? and if you lose consciousness, we're both gonna die. ❜ ❛  i've seen these in old engineering manuals but never in real life. ❜ ❛  now, seeing as everyone on earth seems to be after that thing, i'm guessing that's what you're looking for too? ❜ ❛  and you could've killed me when i collapsed back there and you didn't. ❜ ❛  i get that trust doesn't come easily up here. but you can trust me. ❜ ❛  i hate it up here. ❜ ❛  the things i'm willing to do for you never cease to amaze me. ❜ ❛  hey, hey, hey. come here. i'm sorry. i know you always try to do the right thing. that's what i love about you. ❜ ❛  trust doesn't come easily to those of us with a guilty conscience. ❜ ❛  in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. is that true in your case? ❜ ❛  these people are hiding something from us, and i'm gonna prove it to you, okay? ❜ ❛  there's always some new little faction, ain't there? brand new team of believers with their own dumbass ideas about how they gonna save the world. ❜ ❛  so what d'you think [name]? am i really walking out of here today, or are you gonna try and draw on me for what i did? ❜ ❛  a good bad guy doesn't see themselves as the bad guy. ❜ ❛  and yet power is taken, not given. a lesson you seem to have learned. ❜ ❛  war never changes. ❜ ❛  you look out at this wasteland, looks like chaos. but there's always somebody behind the wheel. and that's who i wanna talk to. ❜ ❛  maybe you can stop them. maybe you can't. maybe all you can do is try. ❜

[theshinazugawaslut]

Sanemi but he's throwing a tantrum over not getting a kiss all day

Literally lays down on the floor, screaming until he gets a kiss

a/n: i love him so much, i was re-watching that backstory episode of him and genya and I've still not physically recovered. also, sorry for being offline for a bit, I've got tonsillitis and COVID right now :( all what I've written in this drabble also apply to all AU's.

Sanemi is a surprisingly very affectionate man, anybody would look at the temperamental grump and think the opposite but you know far better: the Wind Hashira will become a pathetic, mushy mess if you so much as caress his cheek.

He feels like he doesn't deserve it but your hand is so soft, your eyes sparkle as you look at him and he feels like the sky has rained down stars and blessings onto him.

He's never let anyone get close to him, not a single person, nobody has ever known the feeling of his skin nor how he looks when he cries out as he cums. Only you do, and the thought makes him childishly proud, he's yours — what a fucking honour.

So he doesn't understand why you haven't given him one single kiss the entire day- Hell, you haven't even glanced at him, did he do something wrong?

Have you finally realised he's ugly and really not worth it? Or - this is what Sanemi thinks could be the worst case scenario - did you just not want to give him a kiss today?

He's been trailing behind you like a lost puppy all day, following after you, a small scrunch between his brows.

You're so busy, barely paying him mind, looking stressed yourself. He feels like whining and bawling on the floor just to get your attention. He's more than willing to start shrieking and shovelling dirt into his mouth just to get your attention.

You're doing so much work from the minute you cracked open your pretty eyes — you didn't even give him a morning peck and cuddle, already out the futon when Sanemi awoke (by himself; lonely, sad, cold, depressed, how could you?).

You've been training younger slayers, giving them tips and pointers; making some food for the orphaned kids down the street; sharpened yours and Sanemi's swords; went to go see a few different Hashira since they wanted some help from you, and Sanemi's been right behind you, brooding and pouting.

He's tried to get your attention multiple times, lightly tugging on your sleeve so you look at him but you just give him a gentle squeeze on his thick wrist and a small smile before turning your attention elsewhere (why the fuck do you need to help that Kamado boy?) and then he tries to pepper little kisses against your jaw while you talk to Tomioka (fuck that guy) about your last mission but you gently cover his mouth and give him that look to stop.

He finally loses his patience when you start talking to some random guy at the very front of his estate. He scowls, grabs your delicate wrist, and drags you away.

"'Nemi, my beloved, whatever are you doing-?" you say in that sweet voice of yours.

"You haven't kissed me once today!" he says; it's meant to come out as a growl, as something threatening and angry but it sounds more like an upset whine. "I've been trying to get your attention all day!"

He gives that frown of his, slight pout on his pretty lips.

"Do you want me to bark like a dog, is that it? You want- you want me to rip all my hair out and shriek like a fucking cockroach on the ground? Why haven't I gotten a single kiss? I didn't get my waking-up kiss, not my well-done kiss, not my 'cause-why-not kiss, not a kiss on my hand or my head or my hair even though I-"

He's cut off with being pulled down by his haori to be kissed by you.

Hell yeah.

You're cupping his face, fingers delicately stroking his strong jaw and soft cheeks, lips gently pressing against his, and he sighs softly into your mouth; grabbing at your wrists and holding you there.

When you pull away with a small chuckle, you ask, "There. Does that make up for it?"

"No, I want five more," he says with a sneer but his pink-dusted cheeks and dazed eyes are very telling.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hello ❤️ I know you’re back home and I think are doing these on an as-you-can basis. If you’re just completely done, let me know! But I got in my feelings today about always being the third wheel and of course my brain wants to whump Steve about it, so here’s two lines from a conversation I had with a friend:

“When do I stop being a last resort?”

And

“When will I get people who care the way I care?”

Again, if you’re not doing these any more, that’s completely fine! Just thought I’d submit these in case you are. Feel free to use one or the other, or both! ❤️

Hello my star ✨ I am technically not doing them, but it kinda sounds like we both maybe need this one and I'm gonna use this a lowkey plug for everyone to consider participating in the @steddiemicrofic challenge. I'm going with the first one because I believe that even at Steve's lowest, he knows he has Robin to care about him a whole lot ❤️

----------

When the dust settles, when everyone seems to find a new rhythm, when they don't always look over their shoulder and wait for the next world-ending crisis, Steve finds himself alone a lot.

When Robin leaves for college, he finds himself alone most of the time.

The kids are back in school, everyone except Jonathan and Eddie have gone off to college, and those two seem to get along just fine without Steve inserting himself into their friendship.

They still come hang out with him sometimes, usually when they wanna rent a movie using his discount, or if Eddie wants to borrow his dining room for Hellfire.

The worst part is he says yes, puts a smile on his face, pretends he's happy just to get some attention, any attention.

And he is a little happy. Some attention is better than none, especially for a lonely person like him.

He watched everyone around him have each other, while he has himself.

He talks to Robin every other night, but he feels like he's burdening her, but would never say that. He just waits for her to stop answering the calls.

It all comes to a head one evening when Eddie is over at his house late, still cleaning up after Hellfire.

Steve had a bad week at work, customers just being rude over nothing, a migraine two days in a row, and now Eddie dragging his feet to leave.

The worst part? He didn't want him to leave.

Just the thought of another night alone had him tearing up.

He made sure to stay facing away from Eddie, unable to stop the tears from falling, but at least able to stay quiet.

Not quiet enough.

"Steve? What's wrong?"

He sounded so concerned.

"Nothing. Just a little overtired. Head still hurts a little. You know how it is."

He couldn't quite laugh it off, the sound more of a choked sob than anything.

Eddie's hands were on his shoulders, turning him around so he had no choice but to look at him, his worried gaze more than Steve expected.

"What's actually wrong?"

So much.

"When do I stop being a last resort?"

He hadn't meant to say that. He certainly didn't expect Eddie's reaction: pulling him close to his chest, his grip on his back and hair enough to make Steve sink into it.

He hadn't been hugged since Robin left for college.

"What do you mean? You're not a last resort."

"I'm no one's first choice. You only come here because I have the most room. The kids only ever call if they need a ride somewhere. I think at this point Robin only talks to me so she knows I'm alive."

The words were hard to get out but he did it. He felt slightly better just knowing he'd said them.

"Fuck. We've- I've been so stupid."

Steve pulled away.

"I just thought you wanted your space. We're done fighting monsters, so you can go back to just being Steve Harrington. I don't think any of us thought you still wanted to be around us. But we've taken what we thought we could get."

"What? Why would anyone think that?"

"Because you only got involved in all this protect people. Now you don't have to."

"I protected everyone because I cared. Why would I just stop caring?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Because it is stupid."

"So you do want us around?"

"Yes! I thought no one wanted me around anymore since they didn't need me."

Eddie shook his head, disappointment settling over him.

"That's so far from the truth. Dustin was upset the other day because he was convinced you were going to start telling him no when he asked for rides and he didn't know how else to see you."

Steve let it sink in, the words and the way Eddie still hadn't let go of him completely, still had his hands resting on his lower back as Steve looked up at him.

"For a smart kid, he sure is dumb."

Eddie laughed loudly, smiling down at Steve as some of the tension released from his body.

"I guess we all are."

"Including me."

"You're very loved, Steve. By all of us."

"All of you?"

"Yes. All."

[darlingsfandom]

Hey, can we have a cute wedding Cillian fic? Thanks x

You got it love xoxo!

Not going to lie, I got selfish with this and included details of MY dream wedding and own heart ache of knowing that if I ever get lucky enough to get married, my mother won’t be there !

Crisp morning air breezed over your skin as you stood outside with your hair done up in a nice bun, a few wavy strands framing your hands with little black flowers sprinkled in it. Your nerves were running at a thousand miles a minute , this was your wedding day the day you dreamed of since you were a child! The idea of it changed over the years of what you wanted from it and you got what you wanted.

“You alright?” Your best friend came out on the back steps of the church with you.

“Yeah I’m okay, just hard to believe he’s actually marrying me! He could have anyone and he chose me.” You looked at her about to cry until she placed her thumbs under your eyes.

“Don’t cry! You’re going to ruin your make up! But don’t be stupid! Of course he chose you! He adores the ground you walk. I’m sure Cillian would kill for you.” She held up your hand to see the ring on your finger. You smiled as the memories of his proposal flashed in your mind.

Cillian had got down on one knee in front of you while the two of you were at a little carnival and popped the question while you were getting your picture drawn by one of those cartoonist! He had bought you some cotton candy before making a joke about how sweet it would be to move up in your relationship and become your husband then hit out the ring to slid it on your finger.

“You’re going to be okay!” She rubbed your shoulder before taking off back inside since the cool air was making her shiver. On the other side of the church Cillian was getting ready with his side of the bridal party. He looked over himself while fixing his tie.

“Boys… it’s a good day for a weddin’” he clapped his hands together slowly while chewing his bottom lip. Cillian tried to play it cool but he was also nervous. The sound of the bells made you run back inside and into your room so your best friend could help you with the final touches. She gave you a few more spurts of perfume, fluffed out the bottom of your black wedding gown and double checked for any wedgies. You stood with her on your arm as the bridesmaids and groomsmen paired up to get ready to go down the aisle.

Soft music started up which meant that your niece was making her way down the aisle trying to toss the black, red and orange flower petals across the aisle but she would try to go back and pick a few of them up before tossing them aggressively at the ground because she couldn’t keep them, she was only three after all. Cillians beats friends five year old son carried the rings on the pillow along side her.

Your heart was beating loud in your ears as you squeezed your best friends arm. She squeezed back before turning to face you even though the black veil was covering your face , she lifted it enough to see your lips .

“You can see me you know.” Your lips trembled a little.

“Not trying to break a whole tradition , I get it’s for the groom but you never know what could actually happen… now you listen and listen good” She placed her finger on your chest. “That man, the one standing up at the alter asked you out everyone else in this fucked up world to stay with you for the rest of his life because he is madly in love with you and you’re not going to run away! I know you’re scared, you never thought someone was going to give you everything you deserved but he has! He has seen you on your worst days! He’s dealt with your crazy ass family and still picked you! You’re going to March down that aisle to become Mrs. Murphy or I’ll kick your ass because I love you that much. Got it?” She wrapped her arms around you tightly before kissing your cheek and walking over to her partner and looped their arms together. This was actually happening and she was right.

You stood at the end of the aisle sucking in a sharp breath gripping your bouquet of roses and let out the shaky breath before your foot lifted to take you down the aisle. All eyes were on you making your skin heat up as you made your way down. Cillian had his eyes on you but what you noticed through the lace that he was actually in tears with a smile on his face. Your own eyes swelled but you couldn’t cry just yet.

“Thank you… you may all be seated.” The Priest spoke up.

“Dearly beloved, we have gathered to witness a beautiful ceremony in which two souls have connected to become one that will carry on over time….”

You stood up there with your face covered listening to every word. Cillian held onto your hands and ran his thumbs over your knuckles. He knew you were more than likely scared out of your mind with everyone watching which is why it a small wedding with friends and family , no extended family type was there. You gulped when you heard the priest ask for the vows that the two of you decided to write for each other.

Cillian let go of one of your hands so he could hold his paper and cleared his throat.

“Y/N, usually I can speak about anythin and everythin but tryin to find the right words to say dat I love ya is where I struggled because there’s simply not enough ways to say how much I love ya. I make tis promise to ya dat until death do us part and even after dat I’ll follow ya in tis world until it ends. We can be poor , we can be rich , we can be anythin’ and none of it’s going to matter because I have ya in my life. You’ve made me a better man and for dat I truly am thankful because it takes an amazing woman to change a man. I’ve seen how cruel life has been to ya , I’ve seen how you’d hide yer pain and struggle but you’ll never go through it alone again, yer one of the strongest people I know. Not only have I had the pleasure of calling ya me friend, me girlfriend and me fiancée but now I’ll call you me wife now until forever and tats a promise.” Cillian choked here and there on his words while a few tears streamed down his cheeks that he wiped away with his thumb but not once did he let go of your hand.

“And now the bride..”

You turned so your best friend could hand you your paper and took your flowers for you.

“Cillian…” you cleared your throat.

“I could say there’s a million reasons why I love you but we both know that wouldn’t be enough. I could say there’s a million ways to say I love you but again that wouldn’t be enough. For the longest time I never felt like I was enough or that I would be able to feel true love but you’ve proven me wrong. Time really works in a mysterious way and after everything my path crossed yours and now it becomes our path, our journey and as much as change scares me I know i won’t be alone because I have you. If you were to ask me what love means I’d simply say your name because you’ve seen my worst days , the way my mind drifts, the way I’ve broken my own heart but I’ve also seen your worst days too! I’ve seen your heart break in pieces too but each time we’ve both put each other back together and for that I am thankful to be yours. I’ve waited for this day my entire life and now it’s my turn to finally feel happiness that I’ve never known and it’s because of you.” Your lips quivered as your voice shook and you held back your tears as the words flew out of your mouth and your heart was going to burst but in the best way possible. A final breath escaped your lips before they perked into a small smile.

“If anyone has a reason these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The priest spoke out before he said the words you’ve been waiting to hear all day. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Cillian lifted your veil slowly and smiled as he seen your beautiful face for the first time as the new Mrs. Murphy . He cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours lovingly. The claps started with a few cheers and a very loud “ewww” from your niece who was scrunching her nose while still playing with the petal she didn’t throw. The two of you laughed before Cillian grabbed your hand and started walking with you down the aisle.

“Auntie Y/N! Wait for me !!” Your niece called out chasing after the two of you. Both you and Cillian turned to see her sadden face until she was at your hip. You took one hand while Cillian took her other hand and walked with her out of the doors that separated the hall from the room.

“Is Cillian my uncle now?” She asked looking up at you.

“Yes he is!” You leaned a little to kiss his cheek. Cillian blushed a little before bedding to scoop his niece up and placed her on his hip. She placed her hand on his face and smiled. Your heart swelled at the sight before the rest of party of joined the three of you in the hallway.

Guests came out shortly after to congratulate the two of you before you grabbed Cillians hand again to pull him away from the crowd. He followed with you back towards the room you had got ready in. He closed the door behind him as he watched you sit carefully in the chair. Cillian walked over to you and sat down in front of you.

“Are ya okay me love?” His thumb drew circles on your knuckles again because that was the best way to calm you down.

“I’m happy I really am… I’m just upset she couldn’t be here.” You choked out while tears fell down your cheeks.

“Oh darlin, I know it’s bittersweet and that it’s cliche ta say but she’s here wit us in spirit. She’s smilin at ya! You look beautiful! She thinks so too!” Cillian helped you back up to wrap his arms around you tightly. His hands rubbed your back and you sighed into his chest before he grabbed some tissues to help you clean up. His fingers delicacy ran the tissue under your eyes then your nose before tossing it in the trash. “It’s gonna be alright and if ya need another cry tat’s okay . I’m here and I’m not going anywhere !”

You had married the man of your dreams and you couldn’t feel more lucky.

[a66-1]

I am in desperate need of some Simon fluff. My French professor is just about THE worst person I've ever encountered in my life and has entirely put me off wanting to learn a language at all. I'd appreciate it more than you can imagine 🙏🏻

Get that French teacher over here, I have a few words for them 😈😈

I'm so sorry. As my condolences here's some Simon fluff because your teachers suck in this universe

Sickenly sweet! Simon x Absolutely done with class! Reader

"Love? What's with.. The face?" Simon had peaked his head around your door, frowning when he saw such a look of discontentment written all over yours.

You turned your head, daggers ready to be thrown at anyone around you, but Simon's face made it impossible for you to do anything other than drop your resolve and tell him everything. Would you sound whiny for getting upset over a teacher? It's so elementary.

"There's.. No face, I'm just tired." you threw out an excuse, making yourself busy by digging through your bag, searching for that work that's due on Tuesdays lecture, fuck!

"You look minutes away from either A) crying or B) ending the life of someone." Simon snorted, walking into your room. Your desk had all of your French work and textbooks you have, but you can't seem to pick anything up anymore, because of that fucking professeur making learning your least favorite thing in his class.

You scowl, pulling out the work from the last lecture, "I'm.. Stressed, Simon, do you have to dig and nag right now?"

Simon looks up from your desk, before approaching you, his hand sliding into your hair. You leaned instantly, looking up at him. He smiled softly, before dropping to a kneel in front of you. "Of course I do. I can make it all better," he kissed your palm he stole from holding your work.

You smiled wearily, "lovey, I love you but I'm still busy-"

"Busy with what? Trying to learn when your all spent from class? I know how you speak of that professor." He moved your book bag away, hooking his arms around your waist, standing with you. You yelp slightly, hitting his shoulder.

"Put me down, Si-" You counter, and his softly kissed your face until you stopped asking to go back to your work. He brought you to watch the show you guys have been binge watching.

"Once you're all calmed down, you think you could go back to the work to learn?" He mumbled in you ear. You nodded.

"I'll try. Can you sit with me? I know you can't help, but.." Simon nodded anyway, and you snuggled closer.

If you were forced to learn with this man with you, you think you'd learn anything quickly.

Sgsshsshsh phone writing, of mistakes, L me bc I'm not proofreading.

Ilysm! I hope that professor finds me 😈

-a661

[bakugokemkatsuki]

Public Eye

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

**Genre: Fluff (?) **Key: Talking: Bakugo Interviewer **Note: Gender Neutral/ for anyone reader **Word Count: 634 **Warning(s): Cussing, Fan Hates, Pushy People

You and Bakugo had been dating for about a year. The relationship was harder than past ones  due to him being a Pro Hero. The public eye was always on him, being a top-ranking hero came with this. Normally it wasn’t a big deal but, the news outlets were always digging for a story. And so, though you two were careful and tried to be discreet with your relationship it didn’t take long for media to catch wind. Once they found out he was seeing someone its all the new outlets would talk about. Who were you? How did you two meet? These were the buzzing questions flying at Bakugo after every battle. Bakugo liked keeping things private, so he was always quick to change the subject and avoid the questions about you two. Now living in the day and age of social media his fans didn’t take well to this and though some pointed out Bakugo was just a normal person who deserved privacy most didn’t see it that way. Most saw this as meaning that he was embarrassed or ashamed of you and what was worst is most agreed he should be. Though they didn’t know your name or anything about you, they didn’t even know what you looked like (you had managed to hide your face when caught by paparazzi), they still criticized you like no tomorrow. They made fun of how you dressed and the way you walked, they made fun of your hair and your height. It was brutal and they didn’t even know your name. All of this came to a head during an interview. Bakugo was set to appear on a popular talk show that was to be live broadcasted discussing his quick rise to the top and his future in the hero world. That’s when the interviewer brought up the relationship rumors. Bakugo tried to change the subject and just briefly said he wanted to keep it private. The interviewer though was not satisfied with this and kept prying. Bakugo just brushed it off trying to keep his cool until the interviewer mentioned the fans thoughts. “You know Dynamite most of your fans think you won’t open up about this mystery partner because your ashamed or embarrassed. From your reaction and quick attempts to change the subject I think they might be right.” Bakugo’s face turned to one of distaste, but he tried to keep his cool as this interview was important to his career. “Listen just shut your damn mouths and drop the topic.” “You heard it hear first, Pro Hero Dynamite is ashamed of his partner.” With that Bakugo couldn’t take it and quickly stood up pissed and fisted bawled up no longer caring about how this interview affected his career. He realized you cared about you more than that. “SHUT THE HELL UP!!! My partner is perfect and I just didn’t tell any of you shitty extras about them to protect them from your absolute shit opinions because I don’t give a FUCK what you all think of them. I LOVE THEM. So just fuck off!!” Everyone in the studio was stunned and fell silent. Bakugo stormed off stage pissed. “Wait Dynamite! Where are you going?” “Hell, most likely now fuck off. This interview is done.” You confronted him right after worrying about how this will ruin his image. He told you he didn’t care all he cared about was you and that he realized hearing them say all of those things that he loved you. The story was quick to go viral but not in a negative light. Him defending you made everyone love him seeing he has a soft spot made the public love him more than ever. The public support for your relationship was amazing and you were so happy.

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 32

chapter 51:

1. remus misses sirius and honestly they can make a person feel so fucking single, jesus christ

2. i like how remus is like “reg is james’…. boyfreind????? fiancé????? it would feel too disrespectful to ask atp”

3. “You can love Regulus, or anyone, so much you break the fucking scale, but…some people just don't know how to love themselves, and they have to learn that.” FUCKING PREACH REMUS

4. god, james is talking about how regulus thinks he doesn’t know how to love, when in reality, he loves so hard that he’s willing to die. and AHHHHH

5. 🧍🏻evan jumpscare

6. remus and james friendship >>>>>>>>>>>>

7. petition to reunite lily and remus

8. “Without a word of warning, [Pandora] brings Remus' hand to her mouth to press a quick, gentle kiss to the back of his fingers, then does the same thing to James. Remus feels his ears go hot, because he knows what that means, a Hallow gesture for deep admiration. No ones ever done that to him before, so he's a bit flustered by it, admittedly”

AWWWWW

9. “James, in love with a death eater. Who would have thought?” reading this line feels like such a jump scare. i’m the image of one of those really scared cats where their hair and tail is spiky

10. i’m honestly hoping that everyone can just make it to lily’s rescue. like plsss nobody else die. i love you all

11. “Sirius is currently complaining about the fact that he can't see the moon at night, tipping his head back and boldly requesting McGonagall personally to hang it in the sky just for him.” LMAOOO SIRIUS YOURE SO FUNNY AND I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT

12. “”He's my best friend," Sirius announces slowly, like Regulus is an idiot who can't understand basic concepts.

Regulus arches an eyebrow. "He's my fiancé."”

LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY reg just took the words fiancé and fucking RAN with it

13. AWWW i love how excited sirius is for reg that he’s engaged to james!! he loves his brother so much!!

14. “Regulus huffs and rolls his eyes to the sky, literally begging for patience. "I said: would you marry me? He said: yes. Very simple. Asked, answered, engaged."

"You—" Sirius abruptly starts giggling, and Regulus stares at him blankly. "Oh, Regulus. Regulus. That's not—it's—okay, so you do realize that agreeing that you would get married is not the same as agreeing to get married, yeah?"

"No, I'm pretty sure they're the same," Regulus replies.”

i’m CACKLING

15. “Regulus bursts out. "I want you to keep being an idiot until you're old and ugly, and I want you to come to my fucking wedding!"” ☺️☺️ siblings

16. “"First of all, I would be old and beautiful," Sirius states firmly, holding up a finger. "I am going to be sexy until the day I die, even if I could live until a hundred. Second of all, I will be at the wedding. In spirit. Have it at night under my star. Or just—I don't know, slap a picture of me on a chair and—"”

😭😭😭 he knows he’s gonna be a hot old man. me also like, he’s so funny plss i love him

17. “Did [James] know he was engaged prior to Regulus announcing it when he sent the bagel? No. Is he going to protest it? Also no.” 😭😭

18. 😦😦 they were just talking about weddings and now reg is probably about to drown via crimson river. FUCK THIS

19. “People are born to live, and destined to die. Regulus doesn't care about destiny.” godDAMN

20. sirius helped him climb out with rope. they’re safe. it’s all good. i KNOW he has a pov but i was still so worried for him

21. 😧 my dear. flipping off the sky will NOT help you survive longer. they will just try to kill you more painfully.

22. 😭😭 not zar saying this was a lighter chapter cause he’s comparing it to the previous one. babes. reg’s worst nightmare just occurred again 😭😭

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon Prompt #10

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Mature

Prompt: Tomura being so utterly in love with Dabi and Dabi struggling with why because Tomura is the first person who's really loved him.

Contents: Mentioned BDSM dynamic and sexual content, canon-typical suicidal idolization. 

Dabi lets Tomura hold him after they’ve fucked. He doesn’t normally spend the night with the people he sleeps with, but he doesn’t normally ‘play’ the way that Duster wants to. He’s never been in a ‘dynamic’ before. Never had someone who insisted on ‘aftercare’ that consisted of holding him close, hands stroking over his skin, and soft kisses pressed against his hair and wherever else he can reach. It feels good, especially if his pride or flesh is hurting from their rougher play. But this has been going on for two months now, and Dabi doesn’t think that Shigaraki still just considers this a hookup. 

No. He’s pretty sure that Duster thinks they’re dating. He’s never dated anyone either. Why would he have? He knows that he’s not long for this world in the first place. Knows that he’s barely worth looking at. Knows that no one should give him the time of day if he’s not actively making whoever he’s with feel good. But Tomura wants to be around him whenever he can be. He wraps his arms around him, cuddles in close, he catches him between meetings to give him soft kisses, he pulls him into his side when they’re watching movies with the others. But the worst of it, the thing that is making Dabi feel like he needs to abandon every useful thing he’s found with the League, is the fact that Shigaraki has gotten into the horrible habit of pressing his lips to his temple in an achingly gentle kiss and then murmuring, 

“I love you,” against his skin. And every time he does it, Dabi can’t help tensing against him. When it happens tonight though, it’s the last straw. Dabi scoffs and he pushes against his chest. Tomura hesitates for a second, but then lets go. Dabi sits up, reaching for some tissues, and wipes away the mess of their fluids clinging to his skin as best as he can before he shifts to the edge of the bed, reaching for his boxer briefs that ended up at the foot. 

“I’m done with this.” There’s an achingly long pause as he stands, starting to dress. 

“What?” 

“I’m done with this. Your dick is good, but I don’t need you deluding yourself into thinking you’re in love with me.” 

“‘Deluding’? Dabi, I’m not delusional.” Duster throws the covers back and gets up too, mindless of his nudity, and Dabi really is going to miss how good it feels to be fucked by him. “I love you– if three months of dating was still too soon to tell you, then I’m sorry, but I’m not going to lie about my feelings for you.” 

“See this is exactly the kind of shit I’m talking about,” he’s almost glad that Duster worded it like that, because it means that he gets to be angry instead of despondent. “We aren’t dating. We were fucking, you got too attached, and now we’re not going to be fucking any more.” 

Shigaraki stares at him. He doesn’t know if he’s ever left the other man speechless before. Dabi pulls on his pants and shoves his feet into his boots, snatching up his coat and shirt from the floor. It’s just lucky that he manages to make a swift exit after that, luckier still that Shigaraki doesn’t come after him to try and convince him otherwise. He still doesn’t want to take too many chances. He goes down to the gym to shower instead of back to his bedroom, and then heads out. He has to meet with a spy soon anyway, and the longer he’s out of base, the longer this will have to blow over. 

///

He manages to stay away from the PLF for two weeks, and when he comes back, he goes straight to his room. He showers, has food sent up, and types up an entire report of everything he discussed with Hawks, all of the other information gathering he got up to, and even an expense report for the number pushers in their finance department. That is all of his actual responsibilities that he needs to get done, finished. Technically, Shigaraki shouldn’t have any reason to come see him. Dabi doesn’t want him to come see him. 

But he leaves his door unlocked anyway. 

///

When he goes back to meetings on Monday, Shigaraki doesn’t say anything about his absence or about their… break-up or whatever if he’s been thinking that they were dating. He’s tersely professional with him just like he was when they first started working together. Fine. Good. That’s what he wanted anyway. 

But he feels himself getting more and more snippy. Feels his temperature creeping higher and his aggravation getting to a boiling point. He’s pretty damn sure that he’s going to light Duster on fire, and he can’t pin down why. He’s been pretty insufferable for this entire meeting, and he knows it because Twice has actually been smoking while they’ve been talking and Toga is the first one out of her chair to leave when they’re done. 

“Dabi, stay.” Shigaraki snaps at him, and the rest of the lieutenants all but sprint for the door as he stands and turns to Duster to growl, 

“I’m not a fucking dog, you piece of shit!” 

“No you’re not, because a dog can be better trained than you!” Shigaraki is on his feet too, and Dabi flinches involuntarily. Duster never yells at any of them. Even when they first met and tried to kill each other, he hadn’t really raised his voice like that. The last of the lieutenants gets out from the room, and the door shuts with a loud, final thud, leaving them in a deafening silence. It takes a long time before Shig takes a slow breath and manages to speak again, his voice still clipped with his frustration, but not raised anymore. “If you don’t feel the same way, then that’s fine, Dabi. But I expect you to be able to be mature about this as we work together from here on out.” 

“You don’t feel anything about me. You’re not in love with me.” 

“You’re a pain in my ass, but why do you keep assuming that you know my feelings better than I do?” 

“Because no one can love me!” Dabi snaps. The words come out, but he’s not sure he meant for them too. He’s sure he didn’t expect for them to get met with a horrible stretch of silence and the dim realization that there is an aching pressure that’s building up behind his seams that tells him he’s way, way too close to tears. Tomura moves around the edge of the table slowly, getting into Dabi’s space, and he really should go right now. He needs to get out of here. He can’t have this, he can’t even stand to have someone pretending that he can. 

But Shig gets his hands against one of his cheeks and the side of his neck and he makes Dabi meet his eyes. He hopes that the fact he’s not seeing any blood clouding his vision means that he doesn’t look like he’s about to burst into tears. “Firefly,” 

He tries to pull away, “Let go–” 

“No.” Tomura pulls him closer, resting their foreheads together. “Dabi, I don’t know who you were before you found me,” He hasn’t asked since that first night either. Dabi has always been grateful about that. He doesn’t want to tell him. Doesn’t want him to look at him differently. “But if I find out who made you think that no one could fall in love with you, I’m going to kill them. Precious,” Dabi’s insides feel like they’re going to tighten to the point of bursting. “I love you. You’re clever, hard-working, determined, resourceful, gorgeous, and vicious. I love spending time with you. I love that you let me take control and know that I’m not going to hurt you when I have it. If you don’t feel the same way now, or ever, then that’s alright. I just want you to know how I feel, even if we don’t go back to what we were doing before. Are you sure that you want to stop that?” 

Dabi can’t trust his voice. His throat is too tight, his eyes are aching so badly that he’s sure that he’ll have bruises under the scars from trying to hold back the bloody tears. But he manages to shake his head weakly, not able to meet Shigaraki’s eyes. 

Tomura sighs softly, and presses a kiss to his forehead before he pulls him close, letting Dabi hide his face against his shoulder as a hand shifts to stroke through his hair. “Okay, firefly. We can figure this out. I’m going to be right here until you believe me.” 

Dabi doesn’t know if he’ll live long enough for Tomura to keep his promise, but he does know that he’s never let anyone else in the world hold him like this. He knows that he likes it. 

Thank you so much for your support! If you would like to participate, consider checking out my Ko-fi here!

[rolandtowen]

what's up nerds, new fanfiction for yall!

I went on hiatus for three years and came back with Cherik brain rot. Read it on ao3 or under the cut. Chapter two will be up shortly.

It started innocently enough. A chess game, two glasses of scotch, what could go wrong?

The topic of conversation this night was the hypotheticals of their powers.

“Do you think you could control the iron in a person’s blood?” Charles moved one of his knights forward.

Erik hummed noncommittally, moving a pawn forward one space. “I think it’s possible. I haven’t truly had the opportunity to try it.”

“But, could you sense people by their blood perhaps? Not manipulate it, but recognize it the way I recognize minds?”

Erik smirked. “That seems like something I could try without a certain someone getting mad at me.”

Charles put up his hands in mock surrender. “Not saying I want you to mess with people’s veins, but it’d be good to know in case we run into anyone else with your mutation.”

Erik knocked a rook off the board with one of his bishops. “I’ve always wondered, do people have to be alive for you to get into their minds? Hank was telling me the other day that scientists think there can be electrical activity in the brain for a few minutes after death.”

Charles scoffed. “I don’t really make a habit of trying to commune with the dead, darling.” He moved his queen. “Check.”

“Well, what if you could tell those scientists for sure? Connect with someone before they die, and see what all that activity afterwards is about?” Erik moved his king.

Charles stiffened. “I find that highly unethical.” Charles slid his rook to protect his own king.

Erik glanced up at him, gauging his emotions as he moved his last knight. “Just speaking hypotheticals, liebling. Check, by the way.”

Charles made a wasteful move with another pawn, clearly uncomfortable with Erik’s line of thought. “I wouldn’t advise any telepath to stay connected with someone during their death. I did it only once, and never again.”

“What do you mean?” Erik thought that perhaps Charles had reached out to Raven before she died, perhaps to give her some comfort.

Charles’ eyes grew hard. “When you killed Shaw.”

Erik’s hand froze in the middle of moving his rook. Charles saw his confusion immediately.

“What, did you think I was able to keep him frozen and not be connected to him telepathically?”

Erik began to feel a sinking feeling in his gut. “I guess, I thought—I thought you let go when I..”

“When you started driving a coin through his head?” Charles forcefully moved his queen forward. “Had I done that, he could have killed you.”

“So you tied yourself to a dying man?!”

“It’s not my fault you were killing him! Fucking slowly, might I add.”

What?

“You felt him die? Why didn’t you tell me?” The chess game was forgotten.

“When would I have had the time? You shot me and left with my sister.”

Charles regretted his words instantly as Erik lowered his eyes. “To be honest, Erik, I wasn’t entirely sure what happened. It took me weeks to come to terms with the fact that I felt Shaw die. No other telepath has felt another’s death, at least to my knowledge.”

Erik was quiet for a long moment, before speaking in a whisper. “Show it to me.”

“What? No!” Charles sputtered. Erik still wasn’t meeting his eye, so Charles grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. “Erik, I am not about to force the worst pain I’ve ever felt into your mind.”

“You aren’t forcing me,” Erik countered. “I’m asking you to show me.”

“Why? So you can make some demented penance? This is new level of masochism, even for you.” Erik’s jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed his emotion. Charles softened his grip on Erik’s chin, scraping a thumb over his cheek. It was wet. “My love, I’ve already forgiven you, for all of it.” He wanted to run his fingers through Erik’s hair, talk him down from this ledge, and forget this whole conversation.

Erik caught Charles’ hand, holding onto it like an anchor. “How am I supposed to forgive myself, Charles? When I never even knew what I did?” Erik brought Charles’ fingers up to his temple. “Show me. You carry so much of my pain, let me carry some of yours for once.”

Charles’ hand was shaking, but Erik sent a mental message, inviting him in, begging—

Please.

Charles’ answer was agony.

***

Immediately, Erik was flooded with voices.

“Now, Charles!”

“Are you okay?”

“Moira, be quiet—I can only control this man for so long.”

Erik was in Charles’ head, in his memory, yet at the same time he was in his own head, as well as Shaw’s. He could see his past self, picking up his helmet.  

“Sorry, Charles.” His own voice, haunting him.

“Erik, please—be the better man—Erik, there will be no turning back!” And just like that, the connection between them was severed as his past self donned his helmet. This was where Erik’s own memory had previously ended their conversation, but now Erik could hear every word that Charles had screamed at him, willing him not kill Shaw.

He felt Charles’ fear when his past self revealed the coin. It was like the floor dropped out from underneath Charles. Chills ran down his spine. He wanted to run, to fight, but Charles knew that if he let go, Erik could die.

For the first time, Erik could also hear Shaw. For a man who presented himself as so superior, his final thoughts were frantic and pleading.

Xavier, please, unfreeze me. Please, I can help you. I have resources, anything you want—you can have it. Please don’t let me die like this—

But overriding Shaw’s babbling was Charles, still focused on Erik, still pleading with him, despite their severed connection.

“No, please, Erik, no.” Charles’ voice was quavering but his power remained strong. Erik could see through Shaw’s eyes as the coin approached, could feel Shaw screaming, but most of all could feel Charles begging to be heard by him. “Please, Erik.”

Erik finally understood the fear. It wasn’t that Charles was so afraid of Erik killing Shaw—Charles was afraid the Erik was going to kill him.

Charles thought he was about to die, but held onto Shaw anyway.

As the coin drew nearer and nearer to Shaw, Erik could hear Charles whimper one last “please”. And then the pain started. Charles could only scream, but even in his agony, Erik could still hear him mentally calling out for him.

Erik, Erik, please, it hurts. Erik could feel Shaw’s skin splitting and his skull cracking, could feel the shards of bone impaling nerves and skin. When Erik killed Shaw, it felt like no time at all passed between the moment the coin entered his head and passed out the other side, but to Charles—this was an eternity. Erik could pinpoint the exact time Shaw’s screams finally cut out, but Shaw was still feeling, which meant Charles was too. After what felt like years, Charles’ connection to Shaw cut out, and Charles’ mind went black.

[imightgetbetter]

heart and soul

please be very kind with this one. i've been watching so many interviews where matty talks about mental health and i had a bit of a rough go myself today and i just thought about how this would go, and so, here we are. i hope you're taking care of yourself today.

Gentle fingers dance along your back, kneading into your skin every so often as you sink into his warmth, your fingers tracing over the tattoo inked across his chest. His lips are tucked into your hair, and the air is still, eerily quiet for a night when you’re home and haven’t had much to do. Usually, you would be in the kitchen, a playlist on the speaker and one of you cooking dinner, a bottle of your favorite wine cracked open to share. Nights like those, they were much more than nights like these, but at this moment, you genuinely wished you had the energy to be downstairs.

“Are you hungry?” Matty asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, nodding to himself when you shake your head. “Have you eaten at all today, darling? You have to eat. I need you to eat.”

“Not hungry,” you murmur, pulling the blanket over your shoulder and tucking yourself further into hiding. His other hand is dragging along your arm, rubbing over your skin gently. “You can go eat if you’re hungry.”

“Not going without you, darling. Think that you know me better than that by now.”

He’s right, you do know him better than that. Matty has always reacted the same on days like this, days where your anxiety is more than anyone should bear, and you can’t physically get yourself out of bed. In your younger years, Matty would come over and spend the day in your room with you, distracting you with stories of band rehearsal and writing and how he couldn’t wait for the day your stories about him could be read by him. He always argued that you heard songs much too soon, but he couldn’t read your writing. He never meant it maliciously, and the excitement you could see behind his eyes always kept you writing. In the years you lived thousands of miles apart, there would be a text every morning, ‘Good? Bad?’ He would nervously wait for your reply, waiting to see if he would be clinging to his phone all day or would give you space to get your work done. And in the last several years, where you two were rarely apart, he’s learned exactly what you crave on days like this, the way to break you out of it.

“Going to take a shower when this episode is done. Okay?”

Knowing that it’s not a question, you nod quietly, swallowing thickly and trying to work up the courage to speak, to say anything. Your voice feels heavy against your throat, like if you utter the tiniest word, you’ll become sick. “Okay.”

“I missed you all day,” Matty hums, turning his phone upside down and ignoring the call coming through. He couldn’t imagine anything that would matter as much as this, right now, as getting you on your feet and moving around. He wouldn’t ever turn away from you in a moment like this, not when you have seen him at his very worst, not when you’ve held his hand through the darkest moments of his life. He is your best friend, your partner, and he would never act as anything less than such. “Got a good writing session in. I did steal that line you wrote, by the way.”

“I want writing credit, Matthew,” you say, squeezing his hip and tilting your face slightly to give him the tiniest of smiles. “Can you tell me which line you stole?”

“Ah, a smile. That beautiful fucking smile of yours. I’m so in love with you. I need to see you smile every single day for the rest of my life. I can feel your smiles in the deepest parts of my heart. It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

“Matty,” you say, hiding your face in his chest and sucking a deep breath. His body smells like it always does, like home, like your person. Around you, the room is quiet, the television going quiet as the episode ends. “The episode is done.”

Matty brushes a stray strand of hair away from your forehead. “Are you ready to get out of bed for a bit?”

“Are you coming with me?”

“I would like to,” he says, cupping your cheek softly. His touch is so sweet, always so gentle. He always knows exactly what you need, exactly how to approach you. He’s always known, from the first moment you became friends all those years ago. He’s so familiar, and safe. “I’d also like to kiss you, if that’s okay.”

And with that, you understand what he means now, when he says that he feels your smile in the deepest parts of his heart, because hearing him say that, hearing him ask such a simple question but a question that you know is rooted in his care and affection for you, makes your heart feel so warm, and you feel it everywhere. His love is in your heart, where your chest feels tight and swollen. His love is in your cheeks, where your skin feels hot. His love is in your hands, where your skin feels electric every time you touch him. His love is in your brain, where you never feel like a weight to carry. His love is everywhere inside of you.

Nodding silently, Matty sits upright and grabs your cheeks, kissing you delicately, as though the slightest touch with cause you to break. Although sometimes it feels that way, that you might break, there has never been a moment where you would feel broken with him. With Matty, you’re you, all of you, no matter what that looks like.

“I can feel your kiss in the deepest parts of my heart and soul,” you repeat to him, leaning your forehead against his, your hands holding his wrists on your face. You don’t want him to let go, to move. There’s warmth between you, between the intimacy of the moment. “I can feel your love everywhere, no matter how I’m feeling.”

“That’s the line,” Matty smiles, rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks, and you realize what you’ve said, the line that he stole. “I can feel your love everywhere, darling. No matter where I am, what I’m feeling, or who I’m with. I can feel your love everywhere.”

[writingonleaves]

things you never said (things you'll never say to me) - nico hischier

pairing: nico hischier x original female character

warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, not my traditional fluff folks, very little dialogue, kinda a ramble disguised into a piece lol, google translated german, projection?? is that a valid warning

inspired by + title: "things i wish you said" by sabrina carpenter

word count: 2.8k

author's note: got into my feels randomly for this (incredible) song and decided to write something with it. also a part of @wyattjohnston 's lowkey loverfest 2k24!! hope you all enjoy this melancholy ride and please let me know what you think <3

*****

Nico Hischier has always been a leader. 

You ask anyone in Naters or Bern who knew him growing up and they would say the same thing — he’s a polite, young boy with so much talent and a sensible mind. He may be the youngest of three, but everyone’s always turned to Nico for guidance. With a calming voice paired with a warm smile, it’s rare for Nico to steer anyone wrong. 

And he sees it in himself too. Even when he was a rookie, when the C stitched into his jersey was only a blurred dream, he still felt like he had to lead by example. No one was expecting that of him, he knows that now, but he was a first overall pick, the weight of a losing team’s hopes on his shoulders. If he crumbled, those supporters’ hopes fell with him. His own hope would fall with him. 

It took a few years, a pandemic, another first overall pick, a shit ton of roster changes, a new coach and other things to walk into a locker room that wasn’t used to losing. And Nico prides himself as being a leader in that transition. C on his jersey or not, he would’ve done it. Because he doesn’t know how not to.

Leanna always said he didn’t know how to turn it off. 

When Nico had first met Leanna Spritz, it honestly was one of the worst first impressions he’s ever given. It was the morning after a brutal 6-1 loss against the fucking Flyers. The final score itself was bad, but the fact that it was against the Flyers rubbed more salt into the wound. He knew Lindy was gonna bag skate them all to hell and back the morning after and he just really wanted his cappuccino before to take away some of the bitterness. 

All up in his head, he had crashed literally into Leanna. Before they both could comprehend, her cold brew had spilled. Somehow, Nico got away with an unnoticeable splash on his hoodie and no spillage from his own drink. But Leanna wasn’t so lucky. Her brown sweater wasn’t dark enough to hide the fact that half of her cold brew was on it while the other spilled to the ground. 

“Fuck,” Nico had exclaimed, eyes widening and darting between her now coffee stained sweater, the empty cup on the ground and her red hair that only glistened with the sun rays. “Shit! I am so sorry. That’s totally my fault.”

Leanna had waved him away with a small chuckle as she dug into her purse for stray napkins. Far too nice for someone who now had coffee all over them because of him. “It’s okay. Mistakes happen.”

Nico looked at his watch and grimaced. Shit. He was going to be late to practice. And that would be even worse than usual with their horrible performance the night before. “Listen. I really want to buy you a coffee to make up for my clumsiness, but I’m gonna be late to work and-”

Leanna had nodded in understanding, lips quirked up. “Don’t worry about it. Promise. Go. Don’t be late for work.”

He had been so frazzled that all he remembered doing was blurting out another apology before practically running away, partially from embarrassment but also because he really did have to go. 

A week later, Nico went back to the coffee shop. In the back of his mind was the redhead who he still owed a coffee to. But Nico’s also realistic and he knew he’d probably never see her again. 

While he was patiently waiting in the long line, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He braced himself to interact with a fan, but turned around and was pleasantly surprised by who he did see. 

“I thought that was you,” she had said, pink beanie over her hair and a twinkle in her eye. “Not going to spill coffee again on me, are you? I’m wearing white today.”

Nico swallowed before his brain turned back on and he grinned. “Good eye. And no. I promise I’ll be less clumsy today. And I’m less in a rush.” They were next in line to order and he ordered first before turning to her. She had tried to deny him but he just raised an eyebrow until she gave the barista her order. 

“I’m really sorry again,” Nico said as they had shuffled out of line to wait for their drinks. “I hope the sweater didn’t stain.”

Leanna waved him off with her bright smile. “That sweater has been through too much for some coffee to ruin it. You don’t need to worry, Captain.”

Nico had been shocked that she knew who he was, which, in hindsight, is dumb. He’s not Jack, but he gets recognized a good amount around New Jersey still.

He cleared his throat. “Nico is fine.”

She smiled. “Okay, Nico. Well, I’m Leanna. Thank you for paying for my coffee. You didn’t have to, by the way, especially to clear your conscience.”

“That’s not why-well, it is. But I also, uh, are you in a rush?”

Nico remembers that day so well still, his English failing him despite living in North America for over five years as he basically asked Leanna on their first date right there and then. He remembers being thankful that she took some pity on him with her sweet smile and led them to a table. He probably would’ve stood there stuttering like a fool if she didn’t cut in.

“Nico?”

Nico blinks himself out of his memories as Jack walks into his living room. Sometimes he questions if he should’ve given Jack a key. 

“Hey. What’s up?”

“We have skate,” Jack gives him a look. “Dude, take a shower. Quickly. Or we’ll be late.”

“Right,” Nico says, stumbling over to the shower. As the water’s warming up, his eyes stop at a purple bottle tucked in the corner of the sink. Hair oil. Leanna always joked that she couldn’t live without it. His hands twitch to reach for the bottle just so he can smell the grapefruit scent, but he forces himself into the shower instead. 

He can hear Nina’s voice so clearly. Throw it away, she’d say in their mother-tongue that realistically Nico will never not be fluent in but sometimes is scared will slip away. Nina liked Leanna a lot, actually, the one time they met when she came to Jersey to visit last year. But Nina is also Nico’s sister, and cursed her name many times when Nico called her crying, waking her up in the middle of the night. She had stayed on the phone with him for three hours, letting him cry.

He forces himself to take a shower. To wake up a bit and shift his focus to the upcoming skate and game tonight. They’re playing the Rangers, which is just always a grind. He needs to be all in.

Nico keeps to himself while getting ready for practice, putting on his gear quietly while his teammates chatter about something or another around him. He speaks quickly to the equipment team about his skates and smiles in thanks. He catches a whiff of the perfume of their head of PR as she walks past in the hallway, and Nico swallows. 

Realistically, he knows it’s not the same one. But it’s floral and smells like jasmine, so it might as well be. 

As he’s driving home, he has the radio down low. He was never the one to fuss about putting his music on in the car. Because the world just works like that, a song that he doesn’t know the title to comes on. He hums along, because Leanna always played this song.

Instinctively, his fingers twitch to reach out to someone who won’t ever be in his passenger seat ever again. He can hear her voice, her thigh under his palm. It’s not safe to drive with one hand, she’d say with an amused laugh interlaced in her voice. He would always roll his eyes before giving her thigh a squeeze and keeping his hand there for the majority of their journey. 

He remembers that sentence bringing him comfort when they were driving to her sister’s house in upstate New York. He was scared shitless to meet her whole family for the first time to celebrate her cousin’s birthday. It was below freezing point outside, but his hands were so clammy that one would’ve thought it was summer. 

Leanna had put her hand in his hair at the nape of his neck. He had immediately calmed down. 

He swears if he focuses hard enough he can still smell the green tea shampoo Leanna used. It was always interesting to him, because the first thing he would think of when he saw her flaming red hair wasn’t green tea. It deserved something more bold attached to it. Like orange. Or vanilla. Or coconut.

Because Leanna was exactly that. Bold. Bright. Crashing into the lives of everyone in her path with her bright smile, loud laughter and a personality that sucked you in. 

Nico stops at a red light and absentmindedly looks to the right. His breath catches at the sight of a woman walking a beagle. Leanna always said that once she was more settled down, a beagle was the kind of dog she wanted to get, just like the dog she had by her side throughout her whole childhood. 

At one point, Nico had thought she meant settling down in Jersey. Never did she give the indication while they were together that she had meant London. 

He couldn’t force himself to unfollow Leanna on Instagram after the break-up. He catches himself way too often seeing if she still follows him. She does. And she even likes his posts most of the time. He checks.

Nico shouldn’t be surprised. Even though she cried so much when they broke up and he couldn’t handle it, through tears, she wished him nothing but the best. Even as she was actively breaking his heart.

As he pulls into the parking garage for his apartment complex, he kills the engine and just sits there. He should be focusing on the game tonight. Focusing on how they need to stop taking stupid penalties. Focusing on their positioning in the offensive zone. 

You think too much, honey. Leanna would say, kissing his forehead twice, something she started doing to calm him down. You just need to play hockey. Least that’s what you always tell me. Everything else will follow. 

And he would never admit it out loud — especially to Jonas — but he still repeats those words in his head. He’s not sure if it works, but it’s like a mantra. A routine. And hockey players know more than anyone how important routines are and how difficult they are to change. 

It’s been two months and three days. It’s annoying that Nico can still hear her voice in his head, clear as day. He hopes one day he’lll never be able to remember. But he also dreads the day that he’ll forget what she sounds like. 

He walks up into his apartment and pours out a glass of water, downing it in one go. The sun’s out for the first time in two weeks, and a small smile spills on his lips as he admires the sunlight through his glass windows. His eyes shift to a spot on one of the tables by the window on the right, where it seems like something is shining. His curiosity takes over and he walks over, a reminder popping into his brain that he needs to dust his apartment. Why does dust accumulate so quickly anyways? 

His stomach drops. One of her combs placed nonchalantly behind one of his plants. The shine is coming from the light hitting the red hair caught between the bristles. 

What the fuck?

Nico closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before hastily grabbing the comb and tossing it into the trash. She never officially moved in with him, but she was around the apartment enough to leave some things lying around here and there. He thought he had thrown everything out. Or more accurately, he trusted Jesper, Timo and Jack to do it for him during a particularly bad Saturday afternoon two weeks after everything fell to shit. 

He checks the time and sighs. He needs to nap or else everything will be thrown off. Checking his phone to make sure no one needs him, he plugs it in to charge by his bedside, ignoring a text from Nina he’ll answer when he wakes up.

It’s a text she sends a few times a week when she senses that her younger brother’s having a harder day. From almost 4,000 miles, she still knows. Nico’s always loved his sister, but he’s never felt more grateful to have her as he has in these last few months. 

eins zu zehn?? ❤️

One to ten, it translates to. On a scale of one to ten, how shitty or good are you feeling about it today? 

Nico sighs, responds back with a 6, and wills his mind to rest. 

Somehow, he wakes up decently well rested to his alarm. He stays in bed a few extra minutes, getting his mindset ready for gametime. He chooses to wear the gray three piece suit tonight. One of his more fancier fits. It is the Rangers, after all. 

It was Leanna’s favorite suit of his. She always joked he “ruined the look” when he slapped on his beloved white beanie. I love your hair. I wish you’d show it off more, she’d say.

He digs out the beanie from his clean laundry. 

He always leaves an hour or so to himself before he has to go to the rink. He usually spends it tidying up or doing things around his place to clear his head so he can come back after the game and just crash. 

Today, he replays the breakup in his mind. Or what he remembers of it, since he blocked a lot of it out. 

When you picture your future, do you see me in it at all? He had choked out, holding Leanna’s hands in his for what was the last time. 

It hadn’t helped that she had also been crying as she said her next words. Neeks, baby. It’s not you, it’s me. And I hate that I’m pulling that out, but it’s true. Maybe this isn’t the right time for us. 

Why can’t it be? Nico had said. Why can’t we make it work?

Maybe in the future, if things are different. She had said, biting her trembling lip. But even then, Nico knew they were empty promises. She’s too stubborn of a person to not bend the world her way. She just doesn’t want Nico to be a part of that world.

It’s not fair, he knows that realistically, but oftentimes he wonders if she ever loved him at all. That thought especially rode his mind after he saw her post a story on Instagram earlier last week. It was clearly a soft launch, with her hand in the hand of some faceless guy over dinner. Nico ended up scoring two goals that night out of sheer adrenaline and anger. 

Because all he’s ever wanted was for Leanna Spritz to be happy. Even now. Even after all of this. Even if it’s not with him. 

But fuck, she’s clearly moving on. Why can’t he?

He blinks, collapsing on his couch in the living room and staring at the wall. The last time he heard from her was a month ago, when he had gone down after a rough hit during a game against Minnesota. He ended up only being out for the next two games, but the hit hadn’t been pretty. His chest had taken the brunt of the damage. Everyone, including him, had been relieved that it wasn't more serious.

While he was getting checked out by the trainers the next morning, his phone had buzzed and he almost threw up. 

Leanna Spritz✨

I saw the hit last night. Hope you’re okay. Listen to the trainers. 

Nico was angry. What right did she have to text him that? 

But then, he just felt sad. That bottomless pit in his stomach opened up. He felt nothing but emptiness. 

His phone buzzes, this time with a text from Timo, and Nico takes a deep breath. It’s game time. No more crying over his ex-girlfriend. 

As he’s sliding on his beanie in the bathroom, he catches sight of the hair oil again. He picks it up, smells it, before throwing it in the trash. It lands on the bottom of the can with a final thud. He clicks all the lights off, makes sure he has everything he needs, grabs his key off the hook and shuts the door. 

Two hours later, everyone’s getting hyped up. He gives a mini impromptu speech, Jack slaps his back way too hard and Nico smiles, dimples and all.

He takes a deep breath before his blades touch the ice.

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | march 21 support | words: 976

hiiii so i had the worst fucking time at work lately and i felt like i needed to disappear and wondered why i was a public enemy number 1. so to make myself feel better i wrote this (yes, you guessed- james is me; reg is my therapist 🤠). do i feel better? not really. do i hope someone else with similar feelings will find comfort in this? absolutely.

tw: anxiety, self hatred, everyone is mean

James lay on the carpet and looked up at the fluorescent stars on the ceiling. He was having a shitty day; he started it with a huge smile on his face, but as he walked into the coffee shop he always passed on his way to work, the barista looked at him like he had just killed their pet. Maybe they're having a bad day, he thought.

So he ordered his coffee, waited until the order was ready, and watched the barista. They served another customer with a radiant smile on their faces. Well, maybe they just don't like me.

The thought made him lose his spark a little, but as he grabbed the paper cup and left with a cheery see you tomorrow, he plastered that bright smile back on his face.

It hasn’t stayed there for a long time. While waiting for the light to turn green, he looked at the girl holding her mother's hand and winked at her. The woman at her side must have read it wrong, because she frowned at him and led the girl as far away from him as the other people would let them. Yeah, she didn’t get it right; I was just trying to be friendly, not creepy.

As the day went by, there were similar situations waiting for him at every corner: his boss walked to the break room while James was making tea and gave him a nasty look; his colleagues didn't say a word to him all day, apart from polite greetings. James needed help with some paperwork and asked Carolina from accounting about it. She just huffed and took the papers with an eye roll.

He didn’t get it—what was he doing wrong? He was nice as ever, smiling at everyone and trying not to get in anyone’s way, yet still, each person with whom he interacted that day seemed to hate him.

Even Sirius seemed angry with him when, after being asked if he wanted to come over and watch today’s game, the long-haired man replied i can’t.

By 4:00, when he finished work, there was a purple spot on his hand where he was pinching himself to get his mind off of the whole everyone-hates-me thing. He walked out of the building, saying his goodbyes with a small smile and sad eyes that no one seemed to notice. He walked the five blocks from work to his flat, looking down, deep in thought.

What did I do? Are they mad at me for taking that sick leave last week? I didn’t even know they needed my help so much; I shouldn’t have done that. Was I rude to that barista the last time I went there? And Sirius? He’s never like this; I had to muck something up.

The spiral went on and on until James realised he was at the entrance to the building he lived in. And now he’s here, lying on the floor, looking at the stars he and Regulus put up there so long ago. James wondered if his boyfriend would also be mad at him.

He didn’t know how much time has passed before he heard a key turning and the door creaking. He still lay on the carpet when Regulus shouted, “Hi, baby! How was your day?”

“Good, I guess,” James replied robotically. As the younger man walked into the room, he heard a sigh and quick steps, and suddenly Regulus was looking down at him with a face James couldn’t exactly read from this perspective. “Am I a bad person, Reggie?”

His boyfriend crouched next to him, putting his fingers in James’ hair. That was the first thing today that didn’t make him feel like a piece of garbage.

“Que s'est-il passé chéri?” James has heard this question so many times for the last six years that he didn’t need translation, so he just started rumbling about everything that happened and everything he felt.

The longer he talked, the harder it was to hold back the tears in his eyes. When the first rolled down his cheek, Regulus laid down next to him, taking his face into his hand and caressing it gently with a thumb.

“You’re not a bad person, mon rayon de soleil,” Reg whispered to James, looking straight into his eyes with so much adoration and honesty that it made him cry harder.

They stayed on the floor, with James crying quietly and Regulus cradling his face. It took another eternity for the older man to calm down, but when he finally did, he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. Regulus stood up, extending his hand to help James up and putting his arm around the other’s waist for support. James felt sour after so much time spent in one position, so it actually was easier to walk like this.

Regulus sat him down on a couch and went to the kitchen to make them tea and pasta al pesto. Moments later, he was back at James side. They ate in peaceful silence, yet James' brain was still racing. Regulus must’ve noticed it, because he put their dishes on the coffee table and pulled James to his chest.

“Baby, you could start a cult,” he started into the crown of James’ head, “and you would still be better than anyone else. Even if you did something wrong, you would immediately try to fix it, and this is not a bad-person trait. You did nothing to piss all those people off; it was just an unlucky coincidence. They all had a bad day today, and apparently instead of dealing with it in a mature way, they decided to act like a bunch of kids. It’s not your fault. You’re not a bad person,” Regulus repeated the words like a thousand times.

James still had his doubts.

But James felt better.

translation: Que s'est-il passé chéri? -> What happened, darling?

[forget-me-maybe]

Snippet Sunday/WIP Monday/Am I late to the party?

since i missed that the lovely @kimberbohwrites tagged me yesterday we're doing this today!

i've seen that most of us have already done this so i'll just do an open tag for anyone who wants to share something!!!

anyway, the truth is that the last week(s) my writing has been... slow... nonexistent...

SO i looked through my wip-folder to see if i had anything to share and i found this wip that i wrote a while back but never finished (ehm).

it's a modern band au kind of. there's boobs but not anything more nsfw. cw lorroakan related abuse. also i write this as someone who doesn't know shit about music more than listening so warning for incorrect things. also warning for overuse of changing pov and strange pacing.

(and it's not completely done either but i need to throw something out here or i might just lose my mind. also here's to hoping it'll light some fire under my ASS)

here's chapter 1, maybe (it's long, like 4,5k words so buckle up):

~*~

Tav is late. It’s a normal occurrence, it just can’t be helped. She and time have never been in agreement with each other. But today she’s extra late. She’s already texted the band’s group chat to let them know she’ll be in the rehearsal space in fifteen minutes, but that was twenty minutes ago and she’s got at least another ten blocks until she’s there. 

It’s early Eleint and the heat still hasn’t seized its grip on Baldur’s Gate. Sweat beads on Tav’s forehead as she all but jogs through the streets, the straps of her bass case rub uncomfortably against her bare shoulders. 

At least she can find some comfort in the music blasting from her headphones. Polar Apes just released a new album and while it’s not their best (their first one is), it’s definitely not their worst (their fourth one is). 

Perhaps she’s distracted by the music, or perhaps it’s the harsh light from the sun that blinds her enough to run headfirst into something. Or someone. 

“Watch where you’re going,” the man snarls. 

The man she got a faceful of chest from scowls deeply at her, his tail swooshes irritably behind him. He’s tall and dressed elegantly in a turtleneck and a blazer. His shoulder length hair is tied back in a half-updo, a pair of browline glasses sit upon his long nose. He’s rubbing his chin, probably where one of her horns hit him. She should perhaps feel sorry, but his snarl didn’t make for a good first impression. 

“Well, fuck me I guess. I could say the same to you, fancy boy,” Tav bites back. 

Though one might not think it possible, the man’s scowl deepens. Tav doesn’t stop to think about it anymore, she’s in a hurry and makes a point of bumping his shoulder with hers as she passes by to continue her journey. 

“Wait!” the man calls out behind Tav, and against her better judgement, she actually stops. Not without releasing a deep sigh, though. 

“What?” she snaps and turns around with her arms folded over her chest. 

“I – zurgan – I’m looking for Ramazith’s College,” he says. Tav glares at him in return, of course he’s one of those arrogant snobs. The school is known all over Faerûn for its classical music programme. The headmaster, Lorroakan, has a reputation of being a piece of shit and nowhere near as talented as he makes himself out to be. But still, it produces some of the best musicians on this plane. “Could you, perhaps, point me in the right direction?” 

“If you say please.” 

“Excuse me?” he blurts out. Tav continues to glare at him, her tail taps impatiently at the cobblestone. The man looks like he’s going through all five stages of grief before he resigns and says the magic word. “Please.” 

“Alright, fancy boy.” She feels the side of her mouth curl into a lopsided smile, the man’s shoulders drop ever so slightly. “I don’t know how you ended up in Brampton, but you’re on the wrong side of town, so to say.” 

“Well, I’m fully aware a prestigious college like Ramazith’s wouldn’t be located in a wretched place like this.” He gestures around him, the rundown buildings of Bramton are decorated with colourful graffiti. The area has suffered some gentrification the last couple of years, but it still carries that rugged charm Tav loves with her home. “How do I get to the right side of town?” 

“The nearest metro is down that street.” She points to the street in question. “Hop off at the Wide and the college will be just a street down. It’s a huge tower, you can’t miss it.” 

“And… If I were to walk?” 

“Then you have a forty-five minute stroll in that direction,” Tav says and points… in the same direction she’s going. 

Zurgan, indeed. 

She weighs her options, either she walks with the arrogant man for another ten blocks or she takes a detour and actually risks getting kicked out of the band once and for all. The rapid buzzing from her phone in her front pocket makes the decision for her. 

“I’ll walk with you.” 

“There’s really no need.” 

“Not the whole way for gods’ sakes,” Tav explains. “I’m heading that way.” 

“I guess that’s acceptable.” 

Tav huffs, which is the only sound any of them make for their whole walk. Tav keeps a fast pace throughout the streets but the lanky tiefling has no problem with keeping up while she’s dripping with sweat in her shorts and tank top. 

When they finally arrive at the entrance of her rehearsal space. She should probably not lead him directly to what could be considered her second home but she figures she could send Karlach on him if he were up to any funny business. 

“This is me,” she says and points to the building. The man scowls as he takes in the scenery, clearly not impressed by the rundown property but at least he doesn’t say anything. Tav repeats her directions once more to make sure the man finds his way and with an awkward wave, he heads off. 

Tav shakes her head as she unlocks the old door and heads down to the basement. In the small room they call their studio Tav finds her friends, Lae’zel is behind her drums as usual and Karlach and Shadowheart are crammed in the small sofa. 

Tav puts on her most apologetic smile. 

“You’re late,” the githyanki says. “If you are not on time, how am I to trust you to be on beat?” 

“Have I ever disappointed you, Lae?” Tav smiles. 

“Yes,” Lae’zel deadpans. “Many times.” 

“Easy now, rockstars,” Karlach interjects, knowing full and well the smaller tiefling and the githyanki can get at each other’s throats if not interrupted. 

~*~

When Rolan arrived at Baldur’s Gate’s main station he had expected smooth sailing to his goal at Ramazith’s College. Getting the acceptance letter was a dream come true and he felt like his luck had finally turned. He’s always loved music but there was never enough money in the household for tutoring, just the old piano in the living room. Many evenings had been spent trying to get the hang of the sounds and make them sound beautiful together. Even more evenings had been spent learning how to read notes. 

He had not expected to get lost in a rugged part of the Lower City. He had not expected to run into that little tiefling carrying a guitar case. She had almost pierced his skin with her horn as she collided with him. In all honesty he hadn’t been paying attention at all, he was busy trying to read the street signs and figuring out where the hells he came from. 

Now she’s disappeared into a rundown building that doesn’t look safe at all. But her pierced nose, stretched earlobes and tattooed arms give the impression of someone who can handle themselves so he shouldn’t worry at all. 

Wrong. He shouldn’t worry because he doesn’t care. 

No, he’s got a forty-five minute walk in scorching heat, wearing too many layers to look forward to. He was just trying to look professional and now he’s going to have to get changed before he meets with Lorroakan. 

Damnation, he’s already late. 

He’s practically dripping with sweat as he arrives in the Upper City, but his thoughts are consumed with the magnificent tower in front of him. Pride and confidence flows through him, he’s finally where he’s supposed to be. 

~*~

It’s just fucking typical that her strings were to break three days before their gig. It’s also fucking typical she has no spare ones and hardly enough coin to get her through the month. But, at least they’ve been promised some drinks for the gig. It’s not a huge gig, just at their local in Brampton, but still they’d like to make a good impression. Who knows who might be listening? 

For such a big city as Baldur’s Gate, it should be considered strange that there’s really only one place for musical equipment - Sounderous Sundries. Tav doesn’t mind though, the building is as old as the town itself and the glass dome creates a colourful light around all the instruments that are on display. Especially the Gondian bass she’s been eyeing since the moment she was old enough to reach over the counter. 

This time her attention isn’t turned to the instruments, but to the man tending the front desk. It’s the same man that Tav helped find his way to Ramazith’s a month ago. He looks a bit worse for wear, a bruise marks his cheekbone, perhaps he just runs face first into people all the time. He notices her just moments after she notices him. 

“It’s you!” he blurts out. 

“It’s me,” Tav concurs. “What are you doing here?” 

“Working, I have to earn my keep somehow.” He straightens his back and clears his throat. “Welcome to Sounderous Sundries, how may I assist you today?” 

Tav can’t help but snort out a laugh at the pretend sincerity. 

“I need strings,” Tav says and points to her case on the back. “Gave up on me yesterday and we have a gig in three days.” 

“One should always have spare strings at hand,” he mock-scolds. Tav rolls her eyes.. “Please, follow me.”

Though Tav is fully aware where the strings are located and which ones she wants she decides to indulge him. He leads her to a shelf, one arm folded over his chest and his other hand under his chin. He’s kind of cute like that, she thinks. 

“You should come,” Tav says and gets a questioning look from the man. “To the gig! Could be good for you to listen to some real music instead of that pompous stuff you do at your school.” 

“Excuse me, classical music holds depth and intricacies no other can capture. You’re just uncultured.” He frowns. “But please, enlighten me, what sort of music do you play?” 

“Well, it’s kind of indie rock but with a garage feel and Shadowheart’s voice gives it a bit of a shoegaze vibe,” Tav explains. 

“You’re just making up words.” 

“Ugh, come see for yourself.” Tav digs through her pocket for her phone and opens a blank text. “Give me your number and I’ll send you the details. I might even draw you a map!” 

“Alright,” he mumbles and types in his number on the phone. 

“Cool.” Tav grabs her usual pack of strings and heads towards the counter. 

~*~

After a long day at Sounderous Sundries, Rolan finally gets back to his small dorm room. It doesn’t hold more than a bed, a desk and a small drawer for his clothes but he doesn’t need more. Between school, work or getting “tutored” by Lorroakan he doesn’t spend much time there anyway. 

He pops down on his bed right away and looks through the messages he’s missed during the day. Twenty-five unread messages in the family chat, something about Danis’ birthday. He makes a mental note of sending him a happy birthday later. 

There’s one message from an unknown number, contrary to his better judgement it makes his heart flutter a little bit. 

”hey, it’s tav! the girl from the store n the street. we’re playing at the nightowl, moss promenade 42. on stage at 11pm (we hope). bring friends if u like. see u there! ✨ ”

Oh, she writes like a teenager. His pulse stabilises. 

And bring friends? He hasn’t had time to make any friends. But it would seem strange to show up by himself, if Cal and Lia were here he’d ask them, of course. He could ask the chatty trombonist in his musical history class. He’s a bit annoying but at least he won’t be sitting in the pub alone like some creep. 

“Hi Tav! Good to finally put a name to your face. I’m Rolan by the way. Though I should focus on my studies, perhaps experiencing this “real music” of yours will broaden my knowledge. I shall see you there.”

It doesn’t take long for his phone to buzz again. Is she one of those people who are always on their phone? 

“nice to meet u, rolan! 🌸 grab a drink with me after the show? 🍻 ”

Cal has been on about that he shouldn’t answer people right away, but Rolan’s never really understood the meaning of that. Making someone wait just seems impolite. 

“Nice to meet you too, Tav. I could be persuaded to have a drink or two.”

“betcha i can make it three 😏”

He grins to himself, and types before thinking: 

“Now, now, don’t be greedy.”

Hells, did he just send that? Yes, message sent. No little red exclamation mark. No divine intervention to make his phone dysfunction at this very moment. He throws his phone to the end of his bed and groans into his hands. 

The phone buzzes again and he considers throwing it out the window instead, maybe even throwing himself with it. Avoid whatever scolding she’s got coming for him, change jobs, move to another town. 

But, his curiosity can’t be sated. With a flick of his tail he retrieves the phone. 

“haha maybe i will be 😈 ”

Oh. 

~*~

They’ve set up, sound-checked and warmed up. Everything is as it should be. Still, Tav is nervous. It’s stupid, they’ve played here a couple of times before and they always have a great time. Yet tonight she can’t help but glance out at the crowded bar. 

She doesn’t want to admit she’s searching for a certain face. But she’s definitely searching for a certain face. 

They’ve texted every evening since she got his number and she really thought he’d be here. He gives the impression of enjoying their chats at least. Perhaps she’s just naive. 

“Stop your senseless pining,” Lae’zel scolds her. 

For once in her life, Tav actually agrees with the drummer. She sits down on the sofa in the crowded backstage space that can’t be more than a repurposed cleaning closet. Shadowheart flicks away Tav’s tail that was tapping impatiently against her knee and Karlach shoots her a comforting smile. It’s just a couple of minutes until showtime and she has to get her nerves in order. 

Finally, it’s go time and Tav all but bounces out on stage. In a corner she couldn’t see from the angle backstage, she spots Rolan and a brown haired human by a table. He raises his tankard to her and she shoots him a grin. 

She’s ready. 

Lae’zel counts them in and then they’re off. Tav’s fingers move across the strings at what feels like their own accord, it’s instinct to her and it seems the same magic is working at the rest of the band. Shadowheart’s voice has never been clearer, Karlach solos rip through the whole locale and Lae’zel doesn’t miss a single beat. 

They’re fucking tight. 

Time stops and moves too fast at the same time. Tav is so lost in the moment she doesn't notice their thirty minute gig has run its course until she hears Shadowheart’s voice. 

“We’re Last Light, thank you all for coming!” 

Tav pants and takes a bow toward the cheering crowd before she turns to her bandmates. Even Lae’zel has a hint of a smile on her face. 

“Ladies, you fucking slayed out there!” Tav blurts out and pulls them all into a hug once they’re back in their little cupboard. 

“Right back at ya, rockstar!” 

“You did not disappoint me today.” Lae’zel deadpans. 

“Next time we should play somewhere bigger,” Shadowheart adds. “And for money.” 

They all agree and share one more hug before they make quick work at taking down their equipment. They receive compliments from some of the regulars at the bar and then finally, <i>finally</i>, Tav can get her promised drink for the show they put on. The bartender is even happy enough with their performance to promise them a second and third round. 

Tav gulps down the beer while avoiding other patrons as she manoeuvres herself to the table in the back corner. The men at the table are busy with some discussion that Tav just can't figure out for the love of her life. They seem to be in disagreement though, deep frowns on both of their faces. Tav makes herself known with a small laugh and golden irises turn to her. 

“That was noisy,” Rolan states as a matter of fact. 

“Always a charmer,” Tav teases and sits down next to him. 

“I enjoyed getting a new experience under my belt,” Rolan continues in the same tone. 

“Oh, so close to a compliment.” Tav pats Rolan’s shoulder condescendingly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it next time.” 

“You’re talented.” A smile spreads on his lips and one of his canines gets stuck on his lower lip. Tav almost chokes on her ale from how utterly adorable it is. 

“Thank you,” Tav mumbles, a blush creeping up on her face, probably turning her usual blue hue into an embarrassing shade of plum. 

In order to regain some decorum she turns to introduce herself to the other man by the table. Within seconds chatter fills the air around. The three of them share stories and laughter. Tav talks about Baldur’s Gate, recommending places to visit and which tourist traps to stay away from. In return she gets to hear about Waterdeep and Elturel. 

When the rest of the band joins the table (“Scoot, everything else is full.”) Rolan wraps an arm around Tav’s waist to pull her with him as he slides down the bench. She tries really hard not to think about how his hand stays on her hip as the night continues on. 

When the last call rings she doesn’t want it to end. 

~*~

“Wanna get a nightcap?” Tav asks. She and him have fallen behind the others on their hunt for a late night meal. 

“I would like to,” Rolan says, furrowing his brows. “But everything is closed.” 

“Oh, I meant at my place,” she says, her face getting that lovely plum hue he noticed earlier in the pub. “But I get it if it’s too forward.” 

Too forward? He’s been too forward all night, holding onto her waist like he owns her. When he had noticed what he had done it was too late to apologise without it getting even more awkward. 

“Okay,” he says, not fully pleased with how pleadingly it comes out. “I mean, yes, I’d like that.” 

“Fantastic! Prepare for a bit of a hike.” 

She grabs his hand and pulls him down a side street. Though it technically isn’t a hike to her flat, just a three minute walk, there are five flights of stairs to climb before reaching Tav’s home. Rolan is panting once he gets to her floor but she doesn’t seem fazed at all. Must be used to it by now. 

Her studio flat is small but charming, cosy even. There’s just enough space for a sofa and a small dining area, and a bed with what seems like an excessive amount of pillows. Posters of different bands he doesn’t recognise decorate the walls. In one corner her bass and an amplifier stand in a messy nest of cables. A thick, maroon carpet fills the floor and she’s extremely stubborn to make him take his shoes off before venturing further into her home. 

The nightcap in question is a choice between a bottom shelf whiskey and an equally low-shelved red wine. He lets her choose for them and releases a small sigh of relief when she grabs two wine glasses. 

Once the glasses are filled, she leans against the kitchen counter. A comfortable silence falls between them as icy blue eyes stare into his golden ones. 

“I think I should thank you,” he muses. 

“Whatever for?” 

“For inviting me tonight.” He takes a step closer to Tav. 

“Hm.” She chews her lip. 

“Hm?” 

“I think you should kiss me.” 

“Ah, with pleasure.” 

With one hand placed just above her tail he pulls her flush to his chest. Their lips meet carefully at first, exploring and testing out each other. It doesn’t take long for mouths to open, she tastes of the cheap wine and something he can’t place, something that’s just her. 

Careful steps lead him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed and he sits down, bringing Tav with him, her legs ending up on each side of his thighs. He can’t help but grin against her lips. Eager hands pull at all layers of fabric separating them, Tav’s tank top disappears first, then the zipper of her high-waisted shorts. 

He lies back to admire her plump breasts and soft belly that he wants to run his tongue all over. At the same time she works with the buttons of his shirt and all blood must’ve been redirected to his cock because he doesn’t remember what he looks like underneath the thin cloth before lustful eyes turn into pitying ones. 

“Rolan,” Tav whispers. “What happened to you?” 

His blood freezes. 

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he tries to brush it off but his voice catches ever so slightly. 

“I am many things but I’m no fool.” She gets off of him and sits down to the side of the bed. “I know a beating when I see one.” 

He doesn’t want her to look at him like that, with pity, like he’s some wounded animal she needs to take care of. 

“I said it’s nothing for you to worry about,” he snaps, standing up and buttoning his shirt back up. 

“Please, Rolan.” She grabs his hand. “Who did this to you?” 

He yanks his hand back. 

“I said leave it,” he hisses. “I don’t need your pity.” 

And with that, he leaves Tav’s flat. Slamming the door behind him with a force that invites no argument. 

The streets are empty and cold as he heads home, the metro stopped running an hour ago, but his fury keeps him warm. How could he let his guard down like that? Allow her to within days tear down walls he’s worked hard on to build up. 

No, he’s going to have to rebuild those walls, higher than ever before. He needs to be strong. And he’s stronger alone. 

~*~

She fucked up. Utterly and completely fucked up. Tears stream down her face and it’s so fucking stupid, she’s only known him for three days. And she shouldn’t be crying, he’s the one who’s getting hurt, clearly not ready to talk about it, and she kept prying and prying. 

Fuck! 

She buries her face in her pillow and screams for all she’s got. Somewhere along the night either the alcohol or exhaustion from sobbing claims its victory and she falls into sweet oblivion. 

As she rolls out from her bundle of blankets to slam down on her alarm clock, it’s not only her head that hurts. Her chest aches from how things were left off last night. Without even rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she sends the first text. 

“rolan i'm sorry. i shouldn’t have pried like that”

She gets no answer. She doesn’t really expect one either but she’s still disappointed. 

“i get it if u don’t wanna talk i just need to know if ur alright and got home safe”

Of course he won’t be alright. 

“i’m sorry”

“please just let me know ur safe”

As safe as he can be. 

Shaky hands prepare coffee as she steals glances to the phone on her bed, hoping for the screen to light up before she has to jump into the shower. 

But it doesn’t. It doesn’t light up as she gulps down her coffee and chews down a dried up croissant. It doesn’t light up as she dresses herself for the day. It doesn’t light up as she makes her way to the bistro where she waits tables. 

Tav doesn’t hate her job, she doesn’t like it, but it’s work and she needs the coin. Today’s different though, she can’t even blame it on the hangover she’s rocking, she usually finds work a good distraction to a pounding head. But still the hours drag themselves by and every time she glances at the clock, she finds that no more than a couple of minutes have passed. 

At her lunch break, as she sits in the alley behind the bistro, she finally has time to see if Rolan has answered. Her heart stings to see the only message she’s received is from Karlach. 

“HOW DID IT GO WITH FANCY BOY? 👀 ”

Tav sighs and types. 

“not well, he walked out. my fault tho”

“I’M SORRY TAV. WANNA TALK ABOUT IT?”

“idk i have to get my thoughts in order”

“I GET IT BABES <3 LEMME KNOW IF U CHANGE UR MIND”  

The hours crawl by for the whole day, once she gets home she tries to pluck some lines to a new song they’re working on but nothing sounds right. She tries to listen to the latest Rana De Frey to see if she can feel something else, but even her usually patient neighbours are tired of her bullshit and shut her down with a couple of loud bangs to the wall. 

Just as she’s about to give up for the night, she gets the text she’s been waiting for. 

”I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

~*~

Rolan isn’t sure what he did to set off Lorroakan this time and why extravagant boots keep hitting his abdomen. Every time he thinks he’s got the man figured out something the headmaster takes an unexpected turn and punishes him for something new. 

Perhaps he will never figure him out. 

Perhaps that’s the point.

Something clicks. He almost feels it physically in his mind. 

He’s either going to die in the hands of Lorroakan or he has to get away. 

He knows he’s gambling his future, but he at least he’s not stupid enough to gamble with his life. 

The problem with being in a new city where he hasn’t had time to make any connections is that there’s no one to ask for help from. There was someone who wanted to help him once, but he ruined that chance a month ago. 

Perhaps she’ll forgive him if he just talks to her. Hah, he doesn’t remember getting a blow to his head but he’s clearly not thinking straight. 

But what other choice has he got? He just needs somewhere to go to recover a bit and then he’ll figure out the next steps. 

Though every part of his body aches and pain surges through him with every raspy breath, he stumbles across town. People send him looks, ranging from pitying to pure disgust but no one lends a hand. Bloody Baldurians, he thinks. 

It takes him three attempts to remember the code Tav pressed in. He ignores the iron taste in his mouth and is probably running purely on adrenaline as he makes it up the stairs to her flat. He bangs on the door. 

No one answers. 

And he’s so godsdamned tired. He could go look for her at her rehearsal studio, but his legs won’t carry him any further. He slides down with his back against the wall. 

He’ll wait here for her. He just has to rest his eyes for a bit.

[jessiexcorner]

‘Destiny is she.’

Kerack.

 Just a small town with not much going for it, though it was known for its alcohol and the pirates that used to raid the people there centuries ago. 'Not anymore.' Yennefer thought as she drank. After the red death, the once-powerful kingdom fell into shambles. At least they still had their beer going on for them.

"TOSS A COIN TO YOUR WITCHER!" Yennefer winced, hearing the familiar song buzzing in the back.

  "Ugh. If I have to hear that blasted song one more time, I'm going to kill myself." Yennefer turned to see the drunk bard who wrote it.

  "Jaskier?" He turned his head to look up to see the sorceress. He gasped.

  "You! Oh No! I've had enough of you! Y-you harlot witch!" Yennefer rolled her eyes. 

"What? Your girlfriend dumped or something? Also, I'm a sorceress, not a witch."

"No, you ruined my friendship with my only friend! Just cause you had problems in your relationship with him didn't mean you had to ruin mine!"

"We didn't have a relationship."

"It doesn't matter now! I don't need him; I have plenty of friends. And women who want me!" Yennefer turned to order another drink. She didn't want to deal with this right now. A few gulps later, a young girl with blonde hair walked straight toward them.

"Hey! I know you!"

"You do? Oh no. Did I sleep with you?" The girl ignored Jaskier and continued talking to Yennefer.

"You're Yennefer of Vengeberg, aren't you?" Yennefer sighed.

"Look, kid, I don't sell magic anymore. Find someone else."

"Actual, I have a proposition for you."

"Not interested."

"I think you will be-"

"Get lost, kid, before I put a curse on you."

"Weren't you the one looking for a way to conceive?" Yennefer froze. Yes, it's true; that is what she wanted a way to be able to have a child again. But it's not as if she announced it to the world.

"Who told you that?" The girl shrugged with a smug smile.

"Call her destiny." Yennefer scoffed.

"Destiny?" The young girl nodded.

"Everyone knows about her. There's a legend on her. They say that if you ever want to change all the bad that has been done to you; change the fate you've been given, then follow the river upstream to the cottage in the woods. There be a woman, full of grace and beauty, but be careful what is said to her for destiny is she."

"First of all," the drunk bard who had been listening in began, "that doesn't rhyme."

"It's not supposed-" the blonde tried to argue.

"Second of all, who's 'they'?"

"What? No- Look, that doesn't matter, I'm not even talking to you!"

"You know he has a point," Yennefer said.

"Huh?"

"Who is this 'they'?" She said with a cheeky smile. The blonde girl turned redder than the drunken bard and stomped in anger.

"You know what! I don't care! I did what She told me to do and delivered the message! I'm leaving!" She marched out of the bar.

"Say, did you catch her name? I think she fancies me." Jaskier mumbled. Yennefer took a deep breath and finished her drink. 'let's find out who this destiny person is.' She thought, heading out.

                                                       . . .

'Well, what do you know there is a house.' Yennefer thought. She noticed there was a protection spell around the house covering it like a thick fog. She walked towards the house, trying to create a pathway for herself. 'Damn,' This was harder than she thought it would be. 'Why would anyone need such a potent protection spell?' As she tried to move through, it became harder to breathe. Yennefer could feel a headache coming on, it felt as if something was pushing her to fall asleep. She falls and gets knocked out by the gas. Before she falls completely unconscious she notices the end of a flowy robe walking towards her.

Yennefer wakes up feeling as if she has the worst hangover of her life, she notices a blanket covering her and a bed. "What the fuck?" she mutters noticing her surroundings for the first time. A bedroom with a fireplace, cozy and warm but what stuck out the most was the fact she didn't remember how she got here. The door to the bedroom opens before Yennefer can investigate her surroundings more thoroughly.

"Ah, you're not dead. Good." a woman with (h/c) hair wearing a simple white flowy gown exclaims. Yennefer startled immediately turns defensive shooting a gust of magic toward the woman who waves it off as if it were nothing, almost as if, annoyed by Yennefer's reaction.

"Now, is this any way to repay hospitality Yennefer?" The woman says practically scolding Yennefer like a misbehaving child.

"You knocked me out!"

"No, you knocked yourself out." She sat next to the violet-eyed woman, raising her hand near her making Yennefer flinch from the unexpected movement. 

"Relax, I'm only helping your body get rid of the poison from the mist." She sighs moving away after she is done, Yennefer does feel a bit better, less like she had a massive hangover. The woman stands and walks near the fireplace, lighting it with a flick of her fingers, sitting down on a couch with a tea set on a table. "Well? come sit," She points at the other chair meant for Yennefer. Yennefer gets up and slowly walks to the woman sitting on the chair. "Cream?" She offers the raven-haired woman.

"..No," Yennefer declines not wanting any other foreign substances in her body.

"Suit yourself." The woman shrugs, pouring some cream for herself, and lifts her cup taking a sip.

"Why did you want me here?"

"Oh, did my little birdy not tell you?"

"No, well, yes but- that's not- look do you really have a way for me to conceive or are you playing games with me? Because i should warn you i am not in the mood." Yennefer huffs.

"Of course!" The (h/c) haired woman claps her hands making the tea set disappear, with a small vial and a contract replacing it. "This little bottle of magic can bring back anything that was lost. It'll fix you right up, grow back your uterus, and let you keep your good looks," She winks with a smile at Yennefer, who looks at the paper carefully.  

"And I’m guessing this contract I am supposed to sign ensures I do your bidding?" The stranger's grin widens.

"Clever girl. it is fair, after all, i am only asking very little in return for a high reward." Yennefer scoffed but then again she was desperate she wanted this, badly.

"And what would that small favor be?" She questions the woman. "Am i to find you someone and bring them to you?" she rolls her eyes sarcastically commenting.

"Well, yes, that is exactly what I want you to do."

"Right. Sounds simple enough."

"Hm, simple." she hums in agreement, "I just need you to bring me Geralt of Rivia."

...What? "No, no! Absolutely not! What could you possibly need him for?" Yennefer protests, making the other woman rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to eat him, or kill your lover boy,"

"He's not-"

"Come on Yen! All you have to do is bring one witcher here, and I'll give you the ability to conceive again, don't you want that choice back?" The woman circles Yennefer, "They took everything from you, yen. They took your right, your decision. Not only am i offering you your freedom, but i am also giving you an option that doesn't require sacrificing your beauty or power." She twirls a lock of Yennefer's hair around her fingers. "and all you have to do is bring me one measly man." Yennefer hesitates. This can't be real, this had to be a trick, but what could she do? the dragon plan didn't work, Geralt was an arse and she had nothing and no one left. "Tell you what, since you have so many issues with me," The woman picks up the vial and hands it to Yennefer. "You can try the potion of mine, and once it works, and it will believe me you will know if it does. You will bring me Geralt." Yennefer's face reads of worry. "Come on you, poor girl, what do you have to lose? You already tried everything. What, you're worried about your man? What do you think I will do to the witcher? Think I will kill him? He's more likely to end me before I can touch him." Yennefer lets the words of this woman influence her, but she couldn't understand what she wanted with Geralt.

"..Fine, deal, if this works...I'll bring you your witcher."

"Lovely!" The woman smiles waving her hand making a feather appear and floats into Yennefer's hand. Yennefer pauses, feeling the softness of the feather. 

"...Before I sign this, I want to know your name, your real name. I have a feeling it isn't 'destiny'" The woman chuckles once again walking behind Yennefer, placing her soft hands onto her shoulders.

"(Y/n), a pleasure to meet you, Yennefer."