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whorhees · 2 years ago

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Ghost From Your Past {Creed III} Pt. II

Adonis x wife! Oc x onesided! Dame

Summary: Jade and Dame hang out one on one since he’s been out. Jade is trying to avoid dwelling on the past but it’s so hard not too

Authors note: I have no clue what rode I want to travel down with these two. I have so many ideas but oh my god I’m trying to decide what’s right.

“Hey”

Adonis looked up at the girl standing in front of his desk, a finger pressed in the middle of it. “What happened last night? Did Dame win?” Adonis took a shaky look up at her, unsure of what to say. “Uh…Yeah. He did” Jade smiled as she pulled up a seat. “He’s so amazing, ugh I just know he’s gonna flaunt it when we hang out later” Adonis nodded his head slowly. He really didn’t have the heart to break it to her.

“Why don’t you like talking to me anymore?” Jade tilts her head as her finger circled his desk. “We use to talk all the time” Adonis scoffed. “You mean I use to talk all the time? You never talked” “That doesn’t mean I didn’t listen or studied you” Adonis picked his head up to stare into her green eyes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jade flinched at his harsh language. “It means…I can tell when something is on your mind…” Jade reached into her bag and pulled out her yellow pen.

“Remember how I use to draw on your arm to relax your mind?” Adonis nodded and extended out his hand, unclenching his hand as jade gently grabbed his arm. Her thumb ran on the crease bicep and arm, tapping the pen on her desk. “You don’t have to tell me now, but you gotta tell me something” Jade began to outline something on his forearm. “So?”

“I’m sorry…”

Jade didn’t want to get out of bed, she wanted to hide from him and her obligations. She scrolled through her phone, her friends all texting her simultaneously.

Sierra🌸

Yo, did you see ykw?

Sev 🎈

Yo nigga came around askin bout you

Sekani 🎧

Bro is that really Damian???

Jade threw her phone back against the pillow, groaning. “Ugh…” She sat up and stretched, turning to look at the bright blue sky. She had things to do, she can’t just hide from the past in her room. Sudden vibration was felt on her bed, and without a second thought, she reached for her phone and answered.

“Hey”

“Hey Jade”

She paused, cursing herself mentally for not checking the caller ID. “Who dis?” Jade stood up and walked out toward her window. Her hip cocked to the side as she stared out at the city below.

“Oh, it’s uh me. Damian?”

Oh.

“Oh!” Jade laughed awkwardly. “How did you get my number?”

“I asked Seven for it when I met back up with him”

Of course, Seven did. He never respected her wishes once she took off. “Ah. Well, it’s good that you have it now. How are you Dami?” She could hear him chuckle through the phone.

“I’m good peaches. Listen, is there a chance for us to hang out together? Diamond and Precious again?” Jade sucks her teeth, rubbing the side of her neck.

“If you don’t mind coming along to pick up the twins with me”

“Nah! Of course, I don’t mind!” Jade smiles and walked into her closet. “Where do you want me to pick you up at?”

“No, I’ll come to you. I’ll be there in twenty” Dame hung up, and Jade placed her phone on the seat in her closet. It shouldn’t be a big deal, he’s an old friend. She went through all her clothes, pulling out her black tracksuit. She walks out of her closet and threw the tracksuit on her bed. It was her favorite one that Adonis had bought her, it had his first name embroidered in cursive small while the butt of the pants had his last name bedazzled in huge letters.

She grabbed her towel and ran into the bathroom to get a quick shower.

“Okay, that’s it…” Jade grabbed her clip and pinned up her braids halfway. Nothing too much, she still looked great. She grabbed her purse and walked up out of her room. She could hear the knocking from downstairs. Jade finally stood at the door, opening it to reveal Damian.

“Jesus, I was out there for five minutes” Jade rolled her eyes and moved the man down the steps. “Not even. Come on, I gotta pick the kids from school” “Oh, I get to run errands with you now?” Dame chuckled as Jade locked the front door behind her. She walked down the steps to her car, turning to the man who still stood at the top of the steps. “You comin'?”

“…Yeah” Jade unlocked her car door and climbed into her truck. “Damn, you sittin real pretty up there” Dame got into the passenger seat. “I thought you would have a butler driving you around” “Nah, I like doing my own things too much.” Dame nodded as they finally pulled out of the gates house.

“Are you still adjusting to change?” Jade asked, side-eying the man in the passenger seat. “Yeah, especially between us three you know?” Dame lets out a sigh as he looked at all of the mansions passing by. “Listen, I appreciate you visiting me for the time that you did while I was gone” Jade stops at a red light. “I thought…I thought it was really fucked up what the court did to you…”

“Twenty years?!” She stood up with tears in her eyes, and her father had to pull her back down before she busted out in tears again.

“You know what’s funny? I wanted to become a lawyer because of you…but when I did study, and try, I could never. I was never smart, like…” Jade laughs as she turns once the light turned green. “I could never pass the bar test. I tried sooo many times” Dame stared at her as she rambled on. “Hold on…You went to law school?”

“Yeah..? I mean the modeling thing was a way for me to pay for everything. But it kinda took off so, I guess I shifted focus after my third attempt at the exam” Jade puts on her blinker and turns into the circle of the school where all the parents were lined up in the area for their kids. “Wow, I…” Dame was at a loss for words, things he didn’t know about the girl. “I appreciate it. I’ll pay you back”

“By?”

Dame grins, placing his hand on her arm. “By winning the belt. Like I told you I would” Jade pulled up at the front of the loop, unlocking the doors for Honey and Blue to climb in. “Dame…I’m just worried for you” She turns in her seat towards him. “You know, we’re getting old. And, fighting like you use to-“ “I fight the same.” He interrupted, turning his head towards the window. “Take hits hard, Punch harder” The twins came running to the car, Blue helping his sister get in before he got in himself.

“Hey! How was your day babies?” Jade smiled looking at the visor mirror at her children. “Good, honey had a good day” Blue smiled, and soon turned to look at the man in the passenger seat. “Do you want me to drop you off at the gym?” Jade asked as she pulled out of the school circle. “Yeah, I promised him I’d be there at a certain time”

Jade began driving to the gym, the rest of the ride was in silence for the most part. “Oh uh, Adonis is having this party and it’s going to have our old friend Bianca presenting a new song. You down to come?” She turns onto the busy street, the gym was right up ahead. “Of course! What, I gotta wear something nice?” Jade laughed and nodded. “If you don’t have nice clothes, I can get you some if you want” She pulled into the gym parking lot.

Dame grabbed his bag from between his legs, gazing over at Jade once again. “You’ve always been a sweetheart. Look out for yourself, and your mini-mes” He climbed out of the car and closed the door. She watched him enter the gym and sighed. She turned around to look at her kids, Blue had an irritated look on his face. “Mom.” “I know Blue, just…” Jade sighs as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Just give him a chance, he’s nice”

“Does Dad really like him?” Blue asked, he had slight annoyance in his voice. “Yeah,” Jade answers quickly. “They were…are! Best friends. Like how Nathan is your best friend” Blue didn’t say much after that, leaning on his sister’s shoulder. Jade tried her best to be transparent with her kids, but it’s difficult when she tries to bury a past of bad choices that are coming to light. She blinks, did she call dame a bad choice?

To her, he was never a bad choice. She loved him deeply, she still does. But it’s different, she’s married, a mother. But…

She isn’t ready to cross that road

#x black oc #black oc #black writer #creed iii #adonis creed #damian anderson #dame creed iii #adonis creed x reader #adonis creed x oc #michael b jordan #jonathan majors #creed #damian anderson x reader #diamond dame #self insert #black characters

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ladythornofrivia · 2 years ago

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The Imperfection of Sound

In a world of sound, reader is deaf. Until she meets Ran Haitani, who shows her that life is more than just hoping for a miracle.

Pair: Ran x Reader

Warnings: Mature Content, Inappropriate Moments and Adult Language. (if you’re under 18, you can’t read this). Spice. (Spice is nice 😏😎😉)

Author’s Note: For those who are sad from reading the last chapter—I’m sorry. Enjoy this chapter.

(Please report if someone decides to steal/plagiarize my story. And notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter 4: Heavenly

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Ran felt sick throughout the night. He couldn’t bear himself to stay awake, so fell asleep after drinking hot chocolate with chewy marshmallows. He cleansed himself in a lazy fashion—just unbraided his two braids and cleansed his face, brushed his teeth. Then for his outfit, he tossed it aside into the laundry basket for a clean pair of black boxers and loose grey-blue shirt.

He looked up at the mirror, the dark circles under his eyes were deeply outlined and shaded.

If only I’ve been straightforward with her like I did with the others. How I treated others. What made me hold back in the first place? Was I afraid over my confidence? Doubtful? I wish she could tell me. Damn, I hate miscommunication. I didn’t think she’d jump into conclusions. But then, all girls are self-conscious once they see something that makes them uncomfortable. If only I said, “I like you, (y/n), please be my girlfriend.” Everything would’ve been so much easier. I used to be careless of what I said, still sure of myself. What the hell happened to me? I should get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new chance.

Then Ran tucked himself into cold sheets, easing his anxious thoughts roaming. He breathed in…one, two…

Three.

Darkness enveloped him.

•••••

A suckling noise drained into his ears while dainty fingers slipped into up and down motions, kissing noises planted on him.

His throat grumbled, his back hand rubbed his eyes, forcing himself awake to someone straddling him on the bed. With a quick action, his eyes open at his own blanket, formed like a huge tent. When he grabbed the clouded bed sheets, it unveiled a girl. Not just any girl. It was you, pleasuring his long cock with your hungry and pretty mouth. Your hand is dainty compare to his thick girth, sliding in up and down motion still while your lips kissed the tip of his cock, as if French kissing it. The white leak coated on your tongue. Your eyes gazed at him with desire, not the innocent kind, despite your eyes try to claim as one.

“Such a naughty girl,” Ran said with a faint smirk. The widened pupils on his violet eyes relaxed. “Go on, princess, I want you feel my cock in your mouth.”

His hips thrust on your mouth, receiving a low moan droning from you, as you kept sucking his stiff cock, humming.

Usually, Ran met a couple of girls outside of the club. One thing in common girls liked to do is to be seductive towards him, with low hums and subtle touches here and there.

With a final shove into your hungry mouth, his hot semen spurted and drained passed through your throat. As he pulled it out, you swallowed every last liquid. Instantly, he grabbed and pulled you, sharing a deep languid kisses with him. His hand rested at the back of your head as he shoved his tongue against yours. Languid kisses became more lively and desperate—faster and hungrier.

Automatically you plunged his hardened cock into your wet folds, grinding fast as you could, then pounding your ass each time you came down from riding his cock, your lips parted, drawing a loud moan as your head threw back. With a rosy blush on your cheeks, your eyes looked at him with pleasure, you tossed your long hair, riding him faster, moaning desperately.

Ran’s hands groped your breasts, pinching your nipples, as he watched you moaned louder than the last. Your flush skin and face, skin to skin, with yours and his, everything is perfect.

Heavenly.

If only I could tell her how beautiful she sounded.

His arms pulled your upper body down to meet his lips once more, shares deep kisses.

He flipped you over, laying on your backside, as he unsheathed his cock and licked your clit. Nipping them, your hand made its way onto Ran, grinding your pussy until you squirted.

Pulling away, seeing the mess you created on his bed from your wet pussy—your clit is puffed, numbed from Ran’s nipping and licking. Hurriedly, Ran your legs, wedging his cock into your cunt once more, his hands wrapped your legs around his waist as he cradled your head, pressing his lips against your forehead, then tracing his lips down to your jawline, neck then collarbone, then bringing it back up to your lips before heading out to the wide, marbled balcony after unlocking his the sliding door with one hand. With the heaviness of his cock still inside you, each time he moved, the walls in your cu t clutched tighter.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, kissing your forehead before he thrusted, which resulted you screaming with ecstasy on top of your lungs, tears spilling out from your face as you locked your grip behind his neck as you felt your body bouncing from his cock shoving and bruising your walls, immediately immersed, and the arousal grew stronger.

He quickly untangled your legs as you faced toward the high-end view of Roppongi, bent forward as the side of your face pinned down on the wide marble railing as he railed harder. As his pacing went sloppier, yet harsher, he tugged you back, your back pressed against his chest as his lips pressed against your cheek lovingly, whispering, “You like that? You’re so fucking cute when you look like this. People in Roppongi would see how fucking beautiful you are…how your tight cunt is fucking good—your gorgeous body, gorgeous lips, your seductive moans…all hot and hungry for me…if you ever get a chance to get pregnant, I’d still fuck you to oblivion, my little goddess. I love you (y/n)—I love you.”

The semen spurted in you as the last of your arousing screams pierced into his ears before—

•••••

Ran lunged his body forward, covered in drooping sweat. It was still dark—at midnight. He hasn’t gotten any sleep since he last saw you. It was all a big misunderstanding. The girl he randomly clashed with was the birthday girl Rindou mentioned. She wanted to inquired Ran where he was at that night, as Ran tried his best to be civil. He wanted to meet you, by the building where you and him first met—overly self-assured and suave. But with you, his charm dissipated, as if he has forgotten how.

He’s bewitched by your queenly spell.

He kept reading the old messages over and over, the times where he and his heart elated by you, having selfie pictures together and random jokes you guys shared—and inside jokes that you two could only decipher.

But everything seems broken. He couldn’t look at it anymore. He didn’t want to be sober—filled with despair at a new darkened day.

I wish she could answer me. I want to make things right, but I don’t know how.

The birthday girl professed she wanted Ran as her birthday present. Meaning, she offered her virginity to him since her ex broke up with her due to business and education.

As much as Ran politely declined, she still kept pursuing for his attention and affection. He tried not to be obvious to push her away but rather grabbed her by the shoulders to halt her, and that’s where he saw you, your eyes are all but a fatal mourning and betrayal. And now Ran tries in anyway he can to message you, but no answer. He wanted to explain, he’s going to explain, but the outcome was as horrible. How will be able to reach you now?

Just as he was about to contact one of the Tenjiku members to search you, a long outline of hardened cock protruded from his bed blankets.

He wished that everything in his heavenly dream was real.

In the meantime, he has to find a way to mend your heart and pull you back into his world, as you delve into his once and for all.

Taglist: @galactict3a @mrssano04 @penguinlovestowrite @akemiixx01 @f1yh1gh @onyx-blossom @goldenbeskar @sehunnies-hunnie96 @colored-tr-panels

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echo-bleu · 1 year ago

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your smile tells me I'm safe

4k, also on AO3, first part of my modern Russingon QPR AU on that tree I'll carve your name.

“I’m in love with you,” Fingon says one morning in September.

Maedhros is perched on the couch’s armrest, bent down, struggling to tie his laces. It’s something he can normally do easily, if slowly, his stump pressed against the loops as he forms them with his hand. But on some days, his shoulder protests the twist it requires, and he can’t quite get his forearm at the right angle. That’s why he has several pairs of boots that zip up instead, but today is the first staff meeting of the autumn semester, and he wants to wear his nice shoes.

He looks up at Fingon as the words sink in. His unbound hair makes a curtain in front of his eyes, and he can only see parts of him, the hand on his shoulder bag, the golden beads in his perfectly braided hair, his hesitant, expectant smile.

His face falls the longer Maedhros takes to answer. They’re running late for the meeting, and there’s a lead weight in Maedhros’s gut that pulls painfully as words fail to form on his lips. I’m in love with you too, the words are right there, but it’s like someone has sucked all the sound out of him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it,” Fingon says, too fast, too high-pitched, a garble of words Maedhros’s brain can barely decipher. “It’s the worst possible moment, but I’ve been waiting and there’s never a right one and you looked so lovely with your hair hanging like that and—”

He stops to draw a breath, shaky and panicked. Maedhros still feels strangled, but he gives up on his laces and shakes off the shoes to cross the room. He cups Fingon’s chin to make him look up.

“It’s okay, I just.” He stops there, abruptly, with no idea what to say. “Need time,” he finishes after a moment, but the pause hangs between them like a condemnation.

Fingon gives him a brave smile. “Okay,” he says. “Take all the time you need.”

But his posture is tight like he already knows how it’s going to go. He expects Maedhros to turn him down – of course he does. To push him away again, this time for good. He expects Maedhros to ask him to move out, or to pine until they drift apart because of the awkwardness.

Maedhros wants to reassure him, but the only things that come to mind are platitudes – it doesn’t change anything, whatever happens we will stay friends – and they will sound far too much like no, I don’t love you back. And if he knows one thing, it’s that it isn’t true.

So he goes to get his zip boots from his closet and they walk out of the flat in silence. Fingon won’t meet his eyes, and he’s careful not to touch him at any point as they board the metro together.

They make it to the meeting on time, somehow, and they sit together through three powerpoint presentations and an hour of arguing because they always do, and Maedhros doesn’t absorb a single thing that has been said.

I’m in love with you.

The words run on loop inside his head, leaving no room for anything else.

It’s not a surprise, not really. Fingon had a crush on him even back before the accident, according to Káno. They’ve grown very close since reconnecting, and his brothers have teased him about it more than once. Looking back, the signs are there. Maedhros should have seen it coming.

And he does love Fingon back, doesn’t he?

Once home, after another awkward metro ride, he lies down on his bed and stares at the ceiling, the question running in his mind.

The reality of it is that he doesn’t know. He loves Fingon as a friend, as his best friend, there’s no doubt about that. He loves hanging out with him, watching movies on the couch together and working side by side on their laptops. He loves how they laugh together about the most ridiculous things, how Fingon beams at him whenever they cross paths at uni even though they’ve already seen each other in the morning.

He wants to be there to comfort him when he has a bad day. He wants Fingon to be there for him when he has a bad day. He wants to celebrate their victories together, and commiserate on the small annoyances, and hug each other through the hard times.

He can barely imagine his life without Fingon in it. He doesn’t want a life without Fingon in it.

Is that being in love?

And if it is, then why couldn’t he say it back?

He tries to say it out loud, alone in his bedroom. I’m in love with you. The words still won’t make it past his lips.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he gets up again and goes to cook dinner.

The next day, Maedhros’s shoulder hurts enough that he is forced to use his sling. It means that Fingon doesn’t push, doesn’t ask him anything more. He is as he always is on those days – worried and considerate, and there’s almost no awkwardness. He smoothly anticipates Maedhros’s needs, and if there is a slightly different quality to his posture when they spend the evening on the couch, Maedhros’s head on his lap, well, Maedhros is in too much pain to notice.

It lasts almost three days, leaving Maedhros exhausted for another two. There is no energy to spare for feeling guilty, though Fingon’s words are still in his mind. Fingon grows stiffer with him – not purposefully, but he stares at Maedhros’s back at lot, and he’s quick to look away when Maedhros turns around. Several times, for no discernable reason, he stands up and walks out of the living room, going to work in his bedroom instead.

It’s Sunday by the time Maedhros feels well enough to get out of the flat for any length of time. Feeling cooped up, he goes for a walk, but the sky starts pouring when he’s only made it around the corner. By the time he makes it back home, he’s drenched.

Fingon looks up from where he’s typing on his laptop on the couch. Seeing Maedhros dripping on the welcome mat like a wet dog, he starts laughing.

It’s a beautiful sound.

“That’s right, make fun of my misery,” Maedhros rolls his eyes, but he can’t help smiling.

He runs his hand through his dripping hair to get it out of his face, and Fingon’s smile slowly wanes, a thoughtful, sad look taking its place. This has happened too many times in the last week. Fingon hasn’t brought it up again, but it’s obvious that he’s thinking about it.

Maedhros steels himself as he dries his hair with a towel in the bathroom and changes. While he’s not Fingon, who tends to run head-first into danger, he’s never been one to avoid the things that scare him. He can do this. Fingon deserves an explanation, at the very least.

“What you said the other day,” he starts as soon as he comes out of the bathroom. “Are you certain?”

Fingon startles, looks at him, closes his laptop and takes a breath. “Of course. But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same.”

He doesn’t sound as if anything about this is okay, but he’s trying. He’s just never been a good liar. His hands are restless, pulling on one of his braids compulsively.

Maedhros sighs and sits down in the armchair across from the couch. “I can’t be with you in that way.”

He’s half-proud of the way his voice didn’t waver, but Fingon looks gutted, and all of his pride immediately fades away.

“May I—” Fingon says, working his jaw and looking anywhere but at him. “May I ask why?”

Maedhros thinks of all the excuses he’s constructed in his head. That relationships between roommates often end in disaster. That they’re basically cousins, and their fathers hate each other, and it would be terrible for the family unity. That Fingon is already taking care of him far too often as it is, that Maedhros and his chronic pain and his missing hand and his depression would make a terrible partner. They are all true.

They’re also just excuses.

“Because,” he says. He pushes his still-damp hair out of his face. “Because you’re lovely, and kind, and brave, and beautiful, and everything I could ever want, and I love you, but… I can’t give you what you want.”

Fingon frowns, now biting on his nails. “I don’t want anything except for you.”

“No, I can’t—I can’t be the person you deserve.”

“I don’t understand.”

Maedhros sighs. There they are. He takes a deep breath, looking at his lap.

“You deserve someone who can love you back, fully, who can be with you in every way, and I don’t—I don’t have it in me. I just don’t… It’s not there. Something in me is broken. I don’t know if it’s the depression, or the trauma, or if I was born this way, but I can’t give you that, and you deserve better than someone who can’t love you properly.” He swallows a sob on the last word. “I’m sorry,” he adds, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Fingon stares, and doesn’t say anything. Maedhros can’t tell if he’s shocked, or disgusted, or simply waiting for him to pull himself back together. He buries his face in his hands.

He works on the breathing exercises he learned in therapy for a minute, in silence. When he feels calm enough to look up, Fingon is still staring at him, his head slightly tilted, as if trying to solve a mystery.

“Maedhros,” he says slowly. “Are you aromantic?”

Maedhros blinks. His brain halts to a stop.

Is he?

“I—” He gestures helplessly. “I don’t know?”

“It means you don’t experience romantic attraction to people,” Fingon explains helpfully, but Maedhros already knows that.

It never seemed like a very useful description to him. What does it even mean? Is he supposed to get butterflies in his stomach? That’s just an overly dramatic metaphor from teenage romance novels, surely adult relationships are about something else…

Right?

“Ah,” he says, because he can’t think about anything else.

“It would be okay,” Fingon says, still trying to be helpful. “If you are.”

Maedhros thinks about that, and he definitely can’t dig into it deeper without getting overwhelmed. He puts his head in his hands again. Breathes.

“Maedhros.”

He looks up. Fingon has stood up from the couch, and he looks like he wants to come closer, but he doesn’t. He starts pacing instead, in a tiny line down the length of the couch, four steps forward and a turn. Then he sits down again.

“What I’m hearing,” he says, enunciating carefully, “is that you’re perhaps not attracted to me romantically, but you think you could have been if you were wired that way. Which suggests that you are perhaps attracted to me in other ways?”

Maedhros feels himself blush. “Um, not… not—”

“Sexually? No, I already know you’re ace, I’m not expecting you to— Wait,” he stops himself when Maedhros’s eyes bulge out. “Are you not ace?”

“I—”

Fingon grimaces. “I assumed because of how you’re always avoiding the subject, but I should have asked, sorry.”

“No, I… I don’t—”

Maedhros searches for words for an awkward moment before Fingon finally catches on. “Valar, you don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“I know what ace is,” Maedhros says. “I just. Don’t know what I am.”

Fingon bursts out laughing. Maedhros watches him uncomprehendingly, still reeling from the new thoughts hammering in his brain.

“I’m sorry, this is totally inappropriate,” Fingon says, wiping his eyes. “I just… Only you. You’re proudly out as queer, you go to pride, you’ve known that you’re nonbinary for – how long?”

Maedhros hesitates. That is, somehow, something they’ve never really talked about. Fingon took it in stride when Maedhros came out to him, but they never really dug into the subject. “When—when you came out, and Ñolo wasn’t… great about it, I started researching, you know, studies and articles about gender, so I could make sure I was informed and maybe send them to him.”

He feels his cheeks heat up. Fingon’s amused grin turns into a beaming smile, lighting up his face. “For me?”

“Of course. It took me a couple years to really start questioning it for myself, and by then…”

“We weren’t speaking any more.”

“Yeah.”

He opens his mouth to apologize, for the hundredth time, but Fingon holds up a hand. “And in all that time, all that research, you never heard about aromanticism?”

“No, I did. I know what it is, I just…”

I just didn’t think it could be me. I just thought I was broken. He doesn’t say it out loud.

He’s not convinced that it isn’t the truth of it. That there are the real aromantics, the ones who are perfectly valid in their (lack of) orientation, and there’s him, the imposter. It took him years and dozens of hours of therapy to accept his gender – he still slides back on the regular, feeling like he’s claiming a label that he has no right to. This – this is too much.

“Whatever I am, whatever – it doesn’t matter,” he says. “It doesn’t change anything for you.”

Fingon worries at his lower lip. “Putting words on it helps. And it means…” he hesitates. “It means it’s not me you can’t love.”

He’s fiddled with the bead at the end of one of his braids so much that it’s coming apart. Maedhros sighs. “It’s not you,” he confirms. “If I could want someone, anyone… It would be you.”

He wonders, suddenly, if Fingon will want to keep his distance now, if trying to get over him (how do you get over love?) will mean staying away. The thought slithers inside his throat and swells until he can barely breathe.

The idea of losing Fingon…

Fingon is following his own train of thoughts, and giving him a sad smile. “I’m glad to know that,” he says softly.

“Is this— Does this mean—” Maedhros can’t even ask. He runs his hand through his hair, pulling hard at the ends.

“I don’t know,” Fingon says. “It depends on what it means for you, I suppose.”

Maedhros frowns. “How?”

“If you can’t feel attraction to me, does it mean that you also don’t want a relationship? It doesn’t have to be romantic, or sexual.”

“What else is there? You’re already my best friend, unless you don’t want to—”

“No!” Fingon almost shouts. Maedhros blinks at him, surprised. “Not that, I’ll always be your friend if that’s what you want,” he says more softly, but no less forcefully.

“Oh,” Maedhros murmurs, only now noticing how fast his heart is beating. That eases some of his dread. “Good. Because I don’t want to lose you.”

“Me neither. Never.”

Fingon looks close to tears. Maedhros wants to hug him. He makes an aborted gesture toward him with his stump, to check if it would be welcome, and Fingon opens his arms.

Gratefully, Maedhros switches from his armchair – which suddenly feels too far away – to the couch beside Fingon. Fingon scoots over so that Maedhros can be on his right, and slide his left arm across his back. He’s careful of Maedhros’s shoulder when he returns the hug, nuzzling Maedhros’s neck.

“I’m not letting go of you,” he murmurs. “No matter what.”

Then he raises his head again. “Some aro people have queer-platonic relationships. I think. I’m not exactly knowledgeable, but we could research. Is that something you’d want?”

Maedhros gives himself a minute to think about it properly, running his fingers up and down Fingon’s arm. He tries to push away the intrusive thoughts – you’re just broken, you’ll never be good enough for him, he’s generous enough to give you the benefit of the doubt – and actually considers the question.

“I don’t know,” he says.

The thing is – the thing is, he doesn’t think he would want any kind of relationship, aside from friendship, with anyone else than Fingon. So what does that make him?

And Fingon… Fingon is normal, and beautiful and smart and kind, and he could have anyone he wanted. He shouldn’t have to settle for someone like Maedhros.

“Fingon,” he says slowly, prompting him to meet his eyes. “I love you, and I want you in my life more than anything, but you still deserve better. You deserve someone who can love you for real.”

“Oh, Mae.” Fingon reaches up to push his hair back behind his ears. “It doesn’t make your love any less real.”

“But I can’t love you the way you love me.”

Fingon shrugs. “I don’t care. I just want you. From where I’m standing, this just means that we get to define our relationship in whatever way we want. We can just throw other people’s expectations out of the window. I don’t need romance. I don’t need sex. We can figure out what we like together.”

“So if we just continue as we have, you’d be satisfied?”

He smiles. “Without being afraid that you’ll bolt if you find out my feelings? Without feeling like I’m lying every time I look at you? Yes. I don’t need more than that. I just want to be with you.”

“With me,” Maedhros repeats, trying to taste what that would feel like.

Fingon turns to lean against his chest, propping his feet on the edge of the coffee table. “So, can we try? We can research QPRs and see how other people do it. And if nothing fits, we can just make it up.”

“I— Okay,” Maedhros whispers. “We can try.”

It feels easier, perhaps, to say it to the top of Fingon’s head, rather than to his face. He’d do anything for Fingon, but he can’t give him what just isn’t there. How long until Fingon gets bored or frustrating and realizes what he’s missing? How long until Maedhros’s lack comes between them?

But Fingon looks so relieved, relaxed in Maedhros’s arms, and they’ve been cuddling like this on the couch for months. Maybe things don’t have to change too much. They can figure this out as they go along, and if one day it’s no longer enough, then – they’ll cross that bridge when they get there.

So for now – for now, maybe.

“Shit!”

Maedhros looks up from his sketchbook, alarmed. He twists around to check on Fingon, who is standing in front of the sink, peeling tomatoes.

“What did you do this time?” he asks nonchalantly, when he’s determined that nothing majorly dangerous has happened.

“Nicked my finger. It’s fine, it’s just a small cut.” Fingon turns on the tap and holds his hand under the water.

“No need for stitches?”

“No, just a band-aid, maybe.”

Maedhros nods, even though Fingon has his back turned to him, and he puts down his pencil to go get band-aids and antiseptic from the bathroom cabinet.

“Give me your hand,” he says, hooking his foot around the rolling stool they keep in the kitchen area to pull it closer. He sits down and Fingon holds out his now dripping hand. Thankfully, it is only dripping water and not blood, and the cut is objectively very small. Barely enough to justify a band-aid at all, if not for the fact that Fingon will never leave it alone and keep re-opening it if it’s not protected.

Maedhros struggles a little with the box, which is not made to be opened one-handed, and takes out one of the child superhero-themed band-aids. He got them for Fingon as a joke, because he goes through boxes of bandages seemingly like candy, but Fingon unironically loves them. They already adorn several of his fingers like so many rings, little explosions of colour against his dark skin.

Maedhros slaps the newest one on his index finger and jokingly bends to kiss it better – but he lingers, just a little. Fingon doesn’t take his hand back. It lasts no more than an extra second or two, but it’s enough for Maedhros’s brain to start spinning.

Very little has changed between them since their talk. Some of the awkwardness of the last weeks has faded, and new embarrassment arises in entirely different places, but it’s all very subtle. They’ve hung out just as much as they usually do, and Fingon truly seems content with what they have.

Maedhros is still cataloguing moments. Trying to sort what counts as romantic, and what is just friendship. What the distinction even means to him. Kissing Fingon’s finger – is it a joke, or a moment of tenderness? Can it be both? Is it an issue if it’s both?

“You’re overthinking again,” Fingon says lightly.

“Ugh,” Maedhros mutters, standing up and leaning forward to gently headbutt Fingon on the way.

“Whatever feels right,” Fingon reminds him. “It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

“What if what feels right to me isn’t what feels right to you?”

Fingon shrugs. “If it feels wrong to either of us, we don’t do it. You just have to be honest about it.”

They’ve looked up queer-platonic relationships together, but there seems to be as many ways to be in one as there are people who are. The only requirement is, well, declaring it a relationship.

If Fingon is truly serious about this, about not wanting to seek someone who can actually love him properly, then Maedhros wants to give him at least that. Commitment.

It shouldn’t be difficult. Tyelko often jokes that Maedhros is more loyal than a dog (but then, Tyelko loves dogs more than people). He has, always, given a hundred percent of himself to those important in his life – more than was healthy, sometimes. He loves Fingon, and there is no doubt in his mind that he wants that to continue.

But he’s abandoned Fingon once. Not out of any desire to hurt him – on the contrary – but that’s how Fingon experienced it, and it stands between them even now. He pushed Fingon away, and they didn’t see each other again for almost a decade. They went through the worst times of their lives separately, because of Maedhros’s misguided desire to protect him.

Maedhros takes a breath and catches Fingon’s arm before he can turn away.

“I want a queer-platonic relationship with you,” he says – just a touch too fast, but going by the sudden glow of Fingon’s eyes, it’s still understandable.

Fingon has already made his desires clear. He’s been patiently waiting for Maedhros to express himself, never pushing.

“I don’t know what it will look like exactly,” Maedhros warns, like an apology. “I just know I want to be with you.”

Fingon beams. “I will never push you to do something you don’t want,” he promises. “We can explore. Take it slow. Not do anything different at all, if that’s what you like.”

“I—would like to hug you,” Maedhros says.

And it’s not something new, they’re both tactile with each other, but they’ve never hugged as partners before. Or whatever words they’ll end up using.

Fingon makes a noise of excitement and launches himself at Maedhros, catching himself with his arms around his neck. Maedhros would have toppled over, had he been even a little shorter or lighter. As it is, he hurriedly stabilizes himself with a hand on the counter and returns the hug, squeezing Fingon tightly against his chest.

“I love you,” Fingon says. “Is that okay to say?”

“You already said it before,” Maedhros points out.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

Maedhros squeezes him a little tighter, until Fingon squeaks in protest. They both laugh, Fingon’s head still buried in Maedhros’s shoulder.

“I love you too,” Maedhros says quietly, and it doesn’t feel romantic, or wrong, or anything but the most genuine truth. He loves Fingon. Fingon loves him.

If this is to be them, this openness and communication and mutual respect, then – then he thinks he can get used to it.

reblogs and comments make my day!

#silmarillion #silm fic #the silmarillion #maedhros #fingon #silm modern au #tolkien #russingon #tolkien fic #russingon qpr #echo's fanfiction #on that tree i'll carve your name

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wiverly · 1 year ago

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Hi if you are a fanfic writer can you make one where shanks centtic where he is gatps nephew rouger brother ace uncle dragon cousin and what ive said before on my other account on the post with boa and shanks uhm idk i just need a shanks centtic fic may it be on rogership or redhaired pirates he just needs to be loved and apreciated

Heck you can even write a female shanks because there are only two and i love woman okay uhm all in all a one-shots with in each chapter shanks gets loved bc I love him

And uf you are not a writer and a rtidt instead can you maybe draw female shankd for the fanfic im writing I imagining that female shanks wears her hair in traditional viking braids since i think its canon shanks is scandanavian so maybe some viking tattood and ear silver piercing smokey eye and dresses like elisabeth swann like that but with a hint of viking armot or sum

Oh, thank you so much for all the comments here in the question box and under the various posts, as well as the various kudos. I'm really pleased that you like what I post. ❤️

I'll answer everything here, hope it's not a problem for you.

I'm honestly not a fanfiction writer but I was thinking of starting. I already have some work in progress and others planned but it is very complicated for me since english is not my first language. Not only do I have to have the ideas and implement them, but I also have to translate everything. The times are practically biblical and this is also one of the reasons why a lot of time passes between one post and another, ahahahah. I still intend to produce Shanks-centric content, both relating to the Monkey D. family, Rocks D. Xebec, and other characters, even if it's not fanfiction. Also here on my blog you may find image sets and aesthetic moodboards but no drawings, at least not in the near future, sorry. So I hope my follow-up posts go some way to satisfying your desire for more Shanks content, even if I'm not what you asked for.

Thanks again and if you or others would like to write to me again here in the question box I would be really happy, it's always nice to be able to share your passions with others.

P.S. I hope my english didn't suck too much, hahahahah. 😂

#oh my god #internally sobbing #so happy #I love it #it made my day better #ask #sorry for my bad english #really really sorry

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jennyandvastraflint · 2 years ago

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1, 18 and 20 for the ficwriter ask game?👀

Okay, let's do this... I realise my mind completely blanked on the first one because a) I have no concept of how I look and b) I really suck at descriptions beyond very basic things I'll incorporate into the narrative. I'll do 1. another time djfjfhs

18. How old were you when you started writing?

Fanfic? 13.

Plays? 15.

English fanfic? 16 or 17.

Doctor Who Fanfic? 18

I probably started writing way earlier (I think I have some stories and comics somewhere) but I don't remember it, really

20. Share four sentences from your work you're proud of.

Okay, let's see...

They say when your soul dies, you won’t be amongst the living anymore.

Cold opening to an angsty as hell fic :3 (from "They say when your soul dies")

“So, Miss Jenny’s type can be described as scales,” Strax stated, clearly proud of having pieced this together.

Stupidly proud of this entire damn fic that is essentially "Jenny Flint has a thing for scales" (from "Mermaid Drawing")

She felt warm, like the fire heated her cool scales, like it warmed her heart; and the fire’s source walked around Paternoster Row, which such an infuriatingly sweet smile, and such dark eyes, and the proud Silurian couldn’t help but smile back whenever Jenny had that wide adorable grin on her face.

I like long sentences, don't I... This is among my favourite scenes XD It's just <3 Homosexual activity (from "Braided hair")

For Jenny Flint, my dear light in this world of dark.

Dedication in a fic. (from "Light in this World of Dark")

This was very one-sided, I realise, there are a few sentences from other fics I was contemplating (who knew I wrote so many...)

Anyway, I hope this is to your satisfaction! And sorry again about 1 XD

#ask #fanfic ask meme #madame vastra #jenny flint #jenny and vastra

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loovergurl · 4 months ago

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as u can see im drawing and stuff but anyway! idk what to put as the hair and yeah

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

ive drawn three hair styles but anyway here they r!!!! 😼

number one — long hair, since the eyes were huge n cute i thought that the hair should be long but yet fluffy BUTTTT it isnt that fluffy soooo idk

second one — long ponytail but yk on the left, idk but that one yellow vocaloid character came up in my mind n also mixed with a kind of girly touch to it (idk how to explain anything of this... very sorry)

third one — braids, sooo the braids look so bad but this is my first time drawing good braids (in my opinion) butttt anyway, i was looking for a more wavy touch and bigger but nooo i couldnt since i js suck at this or js drawing hair in general.

but ill make a poll for this!!!!

#📁 — athena yappin’#📝 — my artwork #my art #digital art #digital drawing #ocs #my oc <3

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wonwoonlight · 3 years ago

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Seokmin – childhood friends + unprompted kiss + “Why won’t you let me braid your hair?” + “I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.”

700 words~ - a thousand starlights event

“Why won’t you let me braid your hair?” Seokmin frowns, eyeing your hair with a determined look. You have no idea what prompts it, but Seokmin has been adamant on doing all sorts of things with your hair these days and it’s honestly not good for your heart.

You’ve always told him how much you like it when someone plays with your hair, even more when it’s someone you’re romantically interested in. There’s just something so intimate about the gesture that you can’t quite explain, something soft and romantic even though it’s not much.

“Seok, the last time you tried to tie my hair–which was only a few days ago, mind you–you ended up pulling my hair so tight that I got a headache,” you deadpan, looking at him like it’s obvious.

“I told you I’m sorry about that,” he huffs sadly, the image of you wincing still vivid in his mind. “This is me making up for it.”

Honestly, his heart is most probably the gentlest you’ve ever encountered in your life, but that doesn’t mean his arms are. And they are about as powerful as arms can get and Seokmin has no idea how to control his strength at times.

“By trying to give me another headache?”

Seokmin gasps dramatically, his palm against his heart as he looks at you with something akin to betrayal. “To think I even practiced with my niece…”

“Aww, did you?” you nudge him gleefully, enjoying the pout on his face a bit too much. “Did she complain?”

“Just a little,” he admits nevertheless, glaring at you. “But my sister said I did a great job!”

You giggle at his pout, shifting closer to where he’s at only to have Seokmin snickers and turns around. “Then you must’ve done a real good job, huh? I still remember you used to cry everytime she said your drawing sucked throughout elementary school.”

“You–” he gapes, scoffing in disbelief at the way you’re laughing over the memory. His sister does tend to be honest; it didn’t matter that he was 6 and her validation was the only thing that mattered in his small world, and it certainly doesn’t matter now that he’s 25 and knows better than cry over her judgement. “That’s it, I don’t want to braid your hair anymore.”

You tease him further, poking his arms and gluing yourself to his side, pushing your head towards his face as you laugh at his frown. “You sure you don’t want to braid this? I remember someone was so intent on playing with my hair, or was it just me?”

Despite his frown and his faltering will to look annoyed, Seokmin can’t help the way his heart warms at the sound of your laughter and the carefree way you lean into his figure as your body vibrates the more you laugh. You look so natural there, so comfortable as if that’s the only place you’d rather be.

Seokmin knows he’d rather you be.

You’ve retorted to putting your face right in front of his, your palms firmly on both of his cheeks as you force him to look at you. He sees the surprise flashing through your eyes, perhaps not realizing he’d be so close after your own antics.

Your faces are only a few inches away that he’s sure his lips would touch yours if he ever so slightly moves his head forward. You blink continuously, all sort of teasing caught in your throat at the way he’s looking at you.

You’re not even sure who moves first, but your lips meet his and you swear you’ve never felt so warm and content inside, almost as if all of the particles that make you whole are happily buzzing against each other.

Again, you’re not sure who pulls away, you don’t even know if it’s been seconds or minutes–perhaps even hours–but when your eyes finally open and immediately find his, you don’t have it in you to look away.

For a moment, you can only hear the sound of your breathing, and then Seokmin closes his eyes once again as he softly bites down his lower lip.

“I can’t smile at you, I’m mad,” he whispers, a smile threatening to break out of his mouth despite his own words.

You chuckle at this, planting your forehead against his like you can’t get enough of him. And perhaps you can’t, because your arms have somehow gone around his neck and you’re pressing closer to him as if you’re not on his lap already.

“Can you kiss me one more time, then?”

#dokyeom scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenario #svt fic #seventeen x reader #dokyeom fluff #seokmin fluff #seokmin scenarios #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #a thousand starlights masterlist #svt scenario #seventeen au #dokyeom scenario

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aftqrglow · 3 years ago

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hi write more dad!bucky headcanons please and thank you

there u go

BELLA I LOVE THIS???? IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG MY LOVE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <33

pairing: dad!bucky x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: just a bunch of headcanons about bucky with his children

warnings: babies; mentions of pregnancy; i think that’s it? otherwise, its pure fluff

a/n: i've never written headcanons before dhajdjjss i'm sorry if this sucks. i’ve talked about some of these on here before, but i added them here anyway.

Let's get this out of the way: Bucky is the best dad ever.

I mean, you thought you always knew he was going to be a great father. He's a literal angel, after all. But when you had your daughter, Marigold, you realized just how amazing he really was.

Bucky took care of everything. From waking his little girl up for school every morning, getting her ready and even making her breakfast.

He would often let her hook her arms around his metal arm and lift her into the air, the sound of her laughter filling the home you had built with the love of your life.

Bucky used to be insecure about his arm, once. About the scars that littered his shoulder like constellations in the sky, the vibranium shot through with gold. And while you had managed to rid him of most of these inhibitions, he still wore his gloves when he dropped Mari off at school.

That was, until the day Mari dragged him to meet her friends

"Look, guys," she said, with the biggest grin on her face. "My dad has a robot arm. How cool is that?"

Bucky damn near teared up at the look of pride on her face. Because how could his baby girl ever be ashamed of him? Her father was a hero who had saved more lives with that arm than he had taken, even if he forgot that sometimes.

When Mari decided she wanted to be a nail tech, he bought her a full kit just so she could practice.

Of course, she chose her dad to be her model.

Bucky walked around for weeks with his nails painted painted pink, waiting until the nail polish was chipped so bad he had no choice but to ask Mari to take it off and put on a fresh coat.

Seeing your husband with your daughter, you were completely unafraid to tell him that you were pregnant again.

You had never met a man capable of giving as much love to everyone around him as Bucky was, after all.

Bucky was overjoyed when you told him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up into the air and spinning you around, laughing like a child.

And when you found out that you were having twins—there's no way to put into words how delighted he was.

Just as he had when you were pregnant with Mari, Bucky took care of everything.

Only this time, he had Mari to help him.

The two of them repainted the nursery together. One of the walls was left the yellow-splattered orange it had been painted previously—for your Mari's name. One was painted a midnight blue for your daughter, and another a mint green for your son.

Brainstorming names was somewhat of a challenge. Bucky, of course, had two names in mind, but he was unsure of how you would react to them.

That was, until you brought it up yourself.

"I think we should name the boy Steve," you said one night, as he got ready for bed. "And our girl—Rebecca. After your sister."

Bucky froze.

"Are you sure, love? We—I know you had a lot of names in mind, but—"

"They were two of the most important people in your life, Bucky. Of course I'm sure."

The first time Bucky held Steve and Rebecca in his arms, he was shaking. Never in his life had he expected that he would have not one, but three beautiful children.

Three children with your hair and his eyes.

A family he would live and die for.

Mari was the most enchanting older sister. She read to her siblings every night, clambering into the crib and lying in between them, careful and gentle in a way most six-year-olds aren't.

As they got older, little Steve's fascination with his dad's metal arm grew.

He would draw little stars on the vibranium with white dry-erase markers, then rub them off with his thumb.

Steve never failed to boast about how his dad was a superhero to his friends at school—to the point where Bucky was bombarded with little boys asking to touch his metal arm every time he went to pick the kids up from school.

Becca, meanwhile, never let you do her hair. "I like it better when dad does it, Mommy."

And so Bucky did her hair every morning, sleeking those strands back into a silken braid, securing the ends with a black hair-tie that had threads of gold running through it.

"To match Dad's arm," Becca had grinned when she had asked you to buy it for her.

Eventually, Becca decided that if Bucky braided her hair, it was only fair that she braided his too.

It started one morning as Bucky was getting ready for school, when she told him that he was doing her hair all wrong and proceeded to climb up on the bed and put a tiny little braid in her dad's hair.

Of course, Bucky wore it around for the rest of the day.

The braid, coupled with his nails painted pink, thanks to Mari, subjected him to Sam's ceaseless teasing.

He didn't care, though. His heart swelled in his chest every time he glanced down at his nails or his fingers brushed the braid in his hair.

To the point where he grew his hair out again, just so Mari and Becca could braid it.

Of course, Steve decided that he wanted long hair too when he saw his dad skipping haircuts.

In fact, Steve even insisted you braid little sections of his hair like his sisters did for his dad.

It didn't matter to him what the boys at school said about his hair. If it was good enough for Dad, it was good enough for him.

Sam was bewitched by your children too. It was hard to say who was more excited to see the other on the weekends, when choruses of, "Uncle Sammy!" broke through the house every time the doorbell rang.

Spending Sundays at your house became sort of a tradition, as did spending holidays on Sam's boat.

Sarah's sons were enamored with your children. The five of them were inseparable, running around the docks, dodging Sam's neighbors who had now come to know the Barnes family all too well.

Bucky had never really imagined that he would ever know peace like this: with a family that he wasn't going to lose this time.

With friends he was sure wouldn't leave him behind.

He had never allowed himself to hope for it

But as he watched the sunset over the waters, sitting next to Sam with a bottle of beer in his hand, the sound of your laughter mixed with his kids' filling the air around him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had done something right with his shot at redemption after all.

Tags:

@goldengoddess @wherearethesantreys @guzaarysh @for-bebbanburg @mriddlemethis @xleiaorgana @xsamsharons @getluciferoutofthecage

if you would like to be added to my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #dad!bucky #rae's requests<3 #bella <3

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years ago

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Day 54: There Was Only One Bed

The case had been absolutely brutal.

Draco was completely exhausted, every muscle in his body ached, and it felt like every step might be his last before he simply passed out and fell asleep on the ground. And he was still so bloody cold, there weren't enough warming charms in the world to help him get warm.

Trudging along beside him, his feet dragging across the ground, he knew that Harry must be feeling the same. "The hotel's just up ahead," Harry murmured. "I can't wait to get a nice hot shower and then sleep for the next eight to ten hours."

He nodded in agreement, by morning the DMLE would be able to get a portkey to them so they could get back home, for now the room they were providing at the local muggle hotel would have to suffice.

The girl at the check in counter in the lobby was far too cheerful for Draco's taste, chattering away about the festival that was coming to town tomorrow and the weather (the weather of all things). Harry didn't help with his polite responses and his bloody adorable smiles.

It felt like an eternity but they finally made it upstairs and stumbled through the door only for both of them to draw up short.

"There's only one bed," Harry said.

"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, Potter," Draco drawled, quietly panicking.

After a beat Harry suggested, "Why don't you go shower and I'll check in with the desk about it."

Draco looked over at him, "Are you sure? You're the one who got dunked into that icy water."

Harry nodded, "Your lips are starting to turn blue."

He rolled his eyes but gave Harry a little smile, "Thanks, savior."

"Fuck off," Harry laughed. "I'll be back," he added as he headed out of the room.

(Read more below the cut)

Draco turned the water as hot as it would go and climbed in under the spray, his body shivering as he slowly warmed up. By the time he got out and wrapped himself in a fluffy bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the door, Harry had returned. He'd stripped out of his wet clothes and put on the other bathrobe and was sitting at the desk, working on their report.

"What was the verdict?" Draco asked.

Harry turned and looked over at his shoulder, his eyes sliding over Draco's body covered only in a bathrobe and making Draco feel warm all over before he reminded himself that they were professionals. The other man couldn't possibly be interested in him like that, he chastised himself. He needed to get his head out of the clouds before he ruined everything.

"This is literally the only room left in the hotel," Harry said. "It's a queen size bed, though," he said with a little shrug, "We should be okay, right?" he asked, voice soft and strangely vulnerable.

Draco cleared his throat and put on his usual masks, the ones that kept anything more than friendship hidden, "Oh, I suppose," he replied and Harry gave him a relieved little smile. "As long as you promise not to steal all of the blankets."

"Promise," Harry replied, crossing a finger over his heart in a gesture that was decidedly not adorable.

Draco nudged him up from the chair, "Go shower, I'll finish these."

Harry nodded and rose, Draco watched his retreating form until he disappeared from sight. Then he turned to the reports Harry had started and picked up where he'd left off, steadfastly not thinking about Harry's naked body just on the other side of the door.

When he came back out, his long curly hair was hanging loose around his shoulders, weighed down by the water. He didn't let himself stare, didn't let himself wonder what it would be like to wrap his fingers through his hair and cover Harry's mouth with his own.

"I have some extra sweatpants," Harry said, completely oblivious to the way Draco was slowly dying inside, as he sorted through the muggle jacket he'd been wearing for the case and pulled out a little pouch. He reached inside, his arm disappearing to his elbow.

"Merlin," Draco said, watching him dig around in the bag, "Hermione's spellwork is really second to none."

Harry grinned at him over his shoulder as he dug deeper, "Right? Here," he said tossing a pair a of navy sweatpants at Draco, "These have a tie at the waist so at least they have a chance at staying up around your skinny body," he added before tossing him a DMLE t-shirt that was soft from all of the times it had been worn before.

"Thanks," Draco murmured, throat thick with the intimacy of wearing his clothes. He was fairly certain he was never going to recover from this.

"No problem," Harry replied, his dimple flashing at him.

Without another word, Draco headed back to the bathroom to change and to get a hold on his emotions because honestly, this was all feeling a bit too domestic and he needed to get a grip before he said or did something stupid.

When he came out, Harry was standing in just a pair of grey sweatpants, still digging around in the bag.

Draco's jaw literally dropped, it should be illegal for the other man to wear grey sweatpants, especially without anything else underneath. Lust spiked hot through Draco's body and his fingers itched to touch.

Harry turned to look at him, "I cannot find another tshirt in here," he said.

Draco tried to click his jaw closed and get the fucking blush that felt like it was covering his entire body under control before Harry noticed. "Sorry?" he managed.

"I can't find another tshirt." He repeated as he scratched the back of his neck, "Is it going to bother you if I sleep without one?"

Yes! Draco wanted to scream, Circe, yes. How was he meant to sleep when all of that skin and those muscles were right there?

"Draco?"

"Do you want this one?" he asked, indicating the one he was wearing.

Harry shook his head, "You get colder than I do," he said. "I run hot."

Yes, you do, Draco thought because Merlin, Harry was attractive.

"What?" Harry asked.

"What?" he replied.

"What did you say?"

Panic, absolute panic, flooded his mind when he realized he must have said that bit aloud, "Nothing," he said. "Just yes, you do run warmer than I do."

"So, it's okay for me to just sleep without a shirt?" Harry asked, sounding confused and uncertain and if the floor could just open up and swallow Draco whole, that would probably be preferable to this.

"Merlin," he said. "Sorry. No, it's fine, of course it's fine. I'm just exhausted."

Harry hummed sympathetically, "Me too." He nodded to the papers on the desk, "these can wait until tomorrow."

"Great. Bed then?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied as he tossed the bag onto the pile of his clothes in the chair. He climbed under the covers on the right side of the bed and let out a low moan as his body sank into the mattress, "Godric, that feels good."

It was karma. It had to be, Draco was paying for every single misdeed that he'd ever committed.

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows in bed to look at Draco, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Harry's brow furrowed, "I don't know. What's bothering you?"

"Aren't you going to do something with your hair?" he blurted because it was the first thing that came to mind.

"My hair?"

He nodded, "Doesn't it dry funny if it's wet when you go to sleep? Do you ever, I don't know, braid it or something?" That seemed reasonable, didn't it?

Harry tilted his head at him, "No. Honestly, I don't know how to braid my hair."

"Let me," Draco said, then immediately cursed himself. Was it possible to just die from embarrassment?

But Harry didn't seem to think anything of it, "Yeah, alright," he said, sitting up cross legged, and turning his back to Draco.

After taking a slow deep breath and willing his racing heart to slow, he climbed on the bed and knelt behind him, "Tilt your head back a bit," he murmured and he started french braiding the other man's hair, his curls still damp but surprisingly soft.

Harry hummed softly as Draco's nails scratched lightly at his scalp as he gathered new sections to draw into the braid. "Feels nice," Harry murmured and Draco's mind was flooded with images of Harry laid out on the bed as Draco touched and kissed every inch of him; images of heady, hazy pleasure that made the back of Draco's throat feel dry.

"Good," Draco whispered as he continued to work his thick hair into the braid. "You have really fantastic hair," he said, "My mother has thick hair, I was always jealous, mine's so fine and wispy."

"I like your hair," Harry protested. "It's so shiny and it looks so soft. You've had nice hair since third year when you stopped slicking it back against your head."

He couldn't help but smile, "Just the personality that was a bit lacking."

"You turned out alright," Harry teased softly and something in Draco's chest warmed at the praise.

He summoned an elastic from the tray of office supplies on the desk and wrapped it around the end of the braid. "There," he said, "Now you won't wake up with your hair in your face."

"Thanks," Harry replied softly.

"No problem," Draco responded.

They stayed still for another long moment before Harry said, "Right, I'm half asleep just sitting here. Ready for the lights to be turned off?"

Draco shifted and slipped under the covers, "Yes."

Wandlessly, Harry turned off the lights and slid under the blankets, "Good night, Draco," he whispered.

"Good night." And there was a longing that settled deep in his chest to simply roll onto his side and pull Harry close. His fingers twitched to reach across the mere inches between them and hold Harry's hand in his.

He didn't know how long he laid there, listening to Harry's breathing, feeling the heat radiating off of the other man's body and aching to bridge the gap between them, all he knew was that, for the first time in his life, his feet weren't cold as he drifted off.

---------

Draco was having the most amazing dream.

He was laying in bed with Harry, their bodies all tangled together, as Harry kissed him. Draco's arms wrapped tighter around him, hands caressing, the broad, smooth planes of his back.

"Mmm," Harry hummed as he sucked on Draco's lower lip. When he drew back, he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses along Draco's jaw, licking and sucking as he groaned, "Mmm, Draco."

Surely, Draco had never heard his name before, it resonated down to the core of his being and made his entire body shudder as he arched closer and tipped his head back to give Harry easier access to his neck.

His fingers slid into Harry's hair, catching on the braid. And in that instant, he realized this was not a dream and his eyes snapped open. "Shite," he managed, shoving Harry back, "I'm sorry," he gasped, even as Harry flailed and fell on the floor.

"Ouch," Harry groaned.

"Shite," he repeated, "Fuck." He ran a trembling hand through his hair, tugging at the short strands as he tried to come up with some way to fix this, to salvage their partnership, to salvage their friendship. "Salazar, Harry, I'm sorry."

Harry sat up, on the floor, "Just to be clear, what are you sorry for?"

"Kissing you," he said. "Harry I never meant for you-"

"That's what I was afraid of," Harry groaned.

"Sorry?"

Harry shook his head and summoned his glasses so he could shove them on his face, "No, I'm sorry. This is all my fault." He looked up at Draco from where he was still sitting on the floor, "Can I be honest with you?"

Draco nodded.

"I have an embarrassingly massive crush on you."

He stared at Harry uncomprehendingly.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Harry continued, "And I know that you couldn't possibly feel the same," he hastened to add, "But I'm sure that sleeping so close to you made my subconscious-"

"I feel the same," he blurted because he couldn't possibly wait for Harry to finish that sentence, not when he looked so heartbroken.

"What?"

Draco tried to get off of the bed, got tangled in the sheet, and ended up sprawling on top Harry on the floor. "I," he said, rubbing at his rib cage where it had banged into the nightstand, "Ouch. I feel the same."

"Yeah?" Harry breathed, his fingers clenching in the tshirt Draco was wearing.

Draco nodded, "For absolutely ages. I-"

Harry's mouth covered his and stopped the flow of words but that was just fine with Draco, obviously his mouth had been made to kiss Harry and nothing more. Harry started trailing kisses all over his face and Draco couldn't help it, he started to giggle.

He could feel Harry's smile against his skin but he growled teasingly before Draco found himself quite suddenly flat on his back on the mattress with Harry's body over his.

"Did you just apparate us without a wand?"

Harry's head popped up from where he was sucking what Draco was sure was going to be a fantastic bruise on his neck, "It's not like it was far."

"That is ridiculously hot," Draco said, arching up against the hard planes of Harry's body.

"Let's see what else I can do to get you to say that," he said with a wink.

Unsurprisingly, there was no shortage of things that Harry could do that Draco found ridiculously hot.

---------

On their way down to complimentary breakfast the next morning, they were greeted by the man covering the check-in desk, "Good morning, gentlemen, I trust you slept well. Especially since you didn't have any neighbors on your floor," he added with a smile.

"We slept great, thanks," Harry called as he hurriedly ushered Draco toward breakfast.

"Wait a minute," Draco said, looking over at him. "You said that every room in the hotel was full!"

Harry cringed, "I lied."

He stared at him in shock for a moment, "You Slytherin!" he accused. "Look at you, using your cunning to get what you want."

"Well, I'd say it worked out just fine, wouldn't you?" Harry asked with a pout.

And he took pity on him, because he was honestly the most adorable thing Draco had ever seen and he was pretty sure he was in love with him. "Better than fine," Draco replied, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips.

And it was better than fine, in fact, it made a fantastic story for their wedding just over a year later.

------------

Ho boy. This one got away from me. Sorry it's so long!

Day 53: First Anniversary | Day 55: Music

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #drarry drabble #drarry ficlets #idiots in love #there was only one bed #I'm weak for this trope #sos #Sorry it's so long!#thank you for the prompt!#I hope you enjoy it!

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ballorawan740 · 3 years ago

Text

SCP Scenarios: When their kids swear at them (REQUESTED)

Requested by: @Astro_KeySimp

WARNING: Swearing (sorta)

Ok so I kinda made the reader into the child since don't remember if you wanted the reader to be a child or not, so if it wasn't to your liking, then I'm sorry, but I can make a separate version on where the reader isn't the child

It kinda became more of the SCPs and doctors being dads than their reaction to their kids swearing

SCP 073 (Cain)

Cain was walking around with you since you were bored and there wasn't anything to do

Being unaware of what some of the staff were saying, ye went over to grab you some food for later in case you got hungry

Once you both went back, he watched you play with some Legos and was talking as if it was your Lego friends talking to you

Cain looked away for just 10 seconds and heard you shout out "Wow! He said that her baby's such a bi-" which shocked him as he heard it

Cain looked around and made sure that nobody was around the room and was somewhat surprised that you was the one saying this

Being a good dad he is, Cain explained to you carefuly that you shouldn't say that word because it's bad

And being a sweet shy child, you obliged and stopped saying the word

Til this day, Cain had no idea about where and who you've heard the word from and is very much more self-aware

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

Abel is that type of dad who would teach you all the bad words and encourages you to say them

It's the researchers who had to teach you top not to say those words

One time, Dr Glass came in to examine you and had rewarded you as usual since you were so cooperative

You drew a picture of you and Abel talking in a garden with bright coloured flowers

Simon asked if he could see your drawing and saw that the conversation you and your dad had was those of swearing

This surprised Simon since you knew so many at such a young age but wasn't totally shocked since he knew that you were Abel's child

And knowing him, he wouldn't teach you to be nice, so Simon took the job as a mother hen and taught you to not use those words around people

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

Ok, so I'll keep this SCP short since I, again, don't know what I should write for this adorable, squicky, neon-orange, bubby blob

Another SCP who doesn't cuss

This adorable squishy boi here was about to have a heart attack when he heard you swear fir the first time

He had to ask you worryingly where you heard that phrase and you just said some guy wearing a white jacket

999 sighed knowing that you'll grow and couldn't do anything to stop it

He did, however, mention that you should try and avoid saying those things to anyone and that they'd most likely have a heart attack since you were his child and you won the genetic lottery for being the cutest and outgoing child in the world

The only other person who knew of this was Dr Glass (sucks to be him ngl, he do be a mother to everyone) and he had to help poor 999 with teaching you better words

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

YAY! Another SCP who would teach their kid to swear

682 has such a dirty mouth like 076 and would 100% teach you all the words he knows

Similarly to what happened with Abel, you were taken for an interview with Dr Sophia Light since she was assigned to you

She's such a sweet and kind doctor to be around and would teach you anything and everything you would probably need to know all the while keeping an eye on you in case you become overly aggressive like 682

You were just eating some sweets Lights had given you for good behaviour and overheard some researchers swear

Remembering what your dad had taught you, you just repeated those curse words while clapping at your achievement

This had shocked Sophia and that researcher since you were known to be a moderately shy and quiet child who normally wouldn't say those things despite being 682's child

Sophia had to ask if you understood the meaning of those words and shook your head as an indicator for no

She had to carefully find her words and told you to never speak of those words again and took you back to 682's cell

You went and hugged your dad and told him that you learnt from the doctor that those curse words were bad and neither of you should say them

682 had a headache after that

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

I have a hard time thinking that 049 would teach his child to cuss and would avoid swearing in front of them at all cost

Like, he barely swears anyways but he wants to stay classy and sassy for his innocent child

Just like the other day, his kiddo, you, was curious about the whole surgery thingy he does on the dead bodies, so you asked him to teach you and so he did (like the good father we nevah had)

So you learnt some new, yet difficult, words (cuz we all have a nonexistent pea-sized brain) and somehow, you managed to fit in a curse word

This did surprise 049 as he had remembered that he didn't teach you those foul words

He had to give you a talk about using such words and you teared up since you thought that people used them to express their affection to others

Unsurprisingly, 049 took his sweet time looking for the guy who 'taught' you this and wanted to use him as a case study for your future lessons

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Another parent with such an amazing influence on children

035 would teach and enable you to use swearing as a form of expression

So you were free to say whatever you want as long as they aren't directed to our mask here, especially if it's in a negative way

Otherwise, you'd be punished (No not like that! He'll just ground you from your favourite TV show/movie)

The researchers were surprised, not about you swearing, but how you use them through expression

Except for this poor guy who was new to the foundation and bumped into you by accident

This rookie found himself listening to you cursing like a sailor (maybe not that much but more or less on the same level as Samuel L Jackson)

Word got out and everybody laughed at the poor rookie and told him more about your background and how you love to swear (apparently swearing will prolong your life, so you'll basically be immortal here)

035 was impressed by the whole ordeal and rewarded you with more shows to watch whenever you're both free

SCP 105 (Iris)

Iris would accidentally swear in front of you and whenever she realises it, she would tell you to not swear at people since it wasn't very nice

So she would use words to replace the swearing like "oh fudging hell not now" and "no sugar honey ice tea"

The foundation felt that it was slightly unnecessary but went with it anyways

They'd even go as far as saying that it's ridiculous, but who are they to judge?

Iris was your mother and she's a single mum too, so she felt the need to be overly beating but would occasionally let you decide on your own since you were only 12

The foundation members did tell her that you will eventually grow and more of these words will be used but she just hesitates

As a teen, you did begin to use foul words more often and Iris would argue about how you're using them, especially towards her, your own mother

Needless to say, you both felt bad and made up

SCP 106 (Old Man)

Now this old man right here doesn't exactly speak, or at least very rarely

And if he does, he'll most likely be talking to you or the foundation staff if he needed some help finding you

He'll most likely be able to understand what the researchers are saying, even if they aren't speaking English

My own personal hc is that 106 understands English, German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Arabic and Indonesian and probably many others

Every now and again, somebody would come in and teach you new words and give other lessons like maths and poetry (our favourite)

You came back home to tell him all the things you've learnt as he watched you in awe as he braided your hair

You've even used some new phrases, including swear words while talking and 106 was pretty impressed

I feel that he's quite neutral with swear words since words are words and are used as a form of verbal communication

So I don't think they'll be much change in his behaviour to whether you're swearing or not

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

Now with 096, all he does is scream

So basically, somebody else would have to teach you some words

It's not to say that 096 is a dumb animalistic creature with no soul and just kills people who look at his face

He isn't stupid since he manages to find anyone who looked at his face from the other side of the globe

And he seems to understand what the researchers are saying, or at least on a more intermediate to moderate level

You'll learn about swear words from the other researchers, whether they'll be teaching it to you intentionally or you've overheard them

The foundation could really care less, but would at least prefer that you chill a bit if you got carried away

096 would act all cheery when you learn more new things as it's not like the foundation would let him out anyway, so he'll be living the outside world life from you (How relatable, but more with babysitting and dating, cuz I'm too pretty for anyone to date XD)

Like with 106, I don't think 096 would have any special reaction towards swearing, but would probably be screaming internally for a bit since he knows that it isn't a nice word

Dr Jack bright

This mf right here is one of those parents who would be kind but firm

Bright would most definitely give in to your curiosity and teach you whatever you want to learn but would warn you of the dangers

Depending on what it is, he would even go as far as giving you your own personal guard who would stay with you and train you

And unfortunately, this guard has such a foul mouth, so you're constantly exposed to such words

Luckily for the both of you, Jack Bright doesn't really care about swearing as long as you're not being extremely inappropriate if you were to work

He would even joke around with you sometimes and would even start the conversation with swearing

For instance, he'd just surprise you with a "Yeet his mf outta my sheithole"

And yes, you did laugh at his antics

Some would even say that you're an exact clone of him but more stable (for now)

Well, Bright is an amazing dad, but I'd say just below Dr Glass

Or maybe even on par with him

Like Bright is a goofy dad that has all the terrible dad jokes and Glass would be the type of dad to look out for his kid

Dr Simon Glass

Dr Glass would most definitely avoid using swear words, especially if you were under 15

Even if you were over 15, he'd still avoid swearing unless he wants to make a joke or 2

So most of the time, you'd learn all the swearing from other people and SCPs

Sometimes you would swear by accident and Glass would just look at you, slightly disappointed

I'd say he doesn't exactly care about you swearing per see, but would rather you avoid it

It's cuz Simon is the best dad a dad could ever dad and nobody could prove me wrong here

He's also one of the top best dads compared to the others on the list

He's basically your best friend so he'd let you vent and its the 1 time he'd let you swear to show your emotions

Simon would 100% know your thoughts and behaviour

He's just that good at reading people, especially you - almost to the point where people would say he's an SCP cuz I swear he's just empathic and telepathic

As mentioned before, Glass would be the type of dad to care for your mental health

It's not that the others don't, it's just that Glass is a top their God of Psychology and would come to you before you even know you have depression

He would even crack a joke sometimes

So every so often, he would shout out "LANGUAGE!!!" from across the room before you could even bat an eye and say anything

Dr Alto Clef

Another top tier dad, but swearing addition

Your godfather would literally be Jack Bright

Then it's Kondraki and Glass

He would let you swear on a daily basis and would join you

Sometimes you be looking at your Oppas/Noonas and be like: "Oh fxxk me!" and Clef, who's in the next room, be like: "Yeah, fxxk me too!" (Yes but no sis! No incest pls!)

Other times, you would be in the same room as Clef and Bright and you'd join them in being chaotic

And poor Kondraki is just there at the back trying to do his work peacefully

One time, Kondraki had to grab a Simon Glass to help stop the chaotic trio

And OML did it end so well

You were easy to manage tbh, with the exception of you swearing

Clef and Bright would most definitely encourage you to swear more

Especially Clef since he does have a twisted sense of humour

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Kondraki is totally the type of person who would tell their kid to mind their own language

But he secretly doesn't care and his child knows it

His style of parenting is similar to Simon's

And yes, Simon is your #1 godfather/uncle

You'd go to him for emotional support since Kondraki sucks at that

Sometimes you'd swear at him and he'd get mad though

So yeah, running to Glass is a wonderful idea

And we all know that Kondraki doesn't mean what he said

He's just extremely introverted, but he's rather sensible - Usually...

Anyways, he would ask Simon on tips and advice on how to get you to stop swearing so much and he just gave Benjamin a parenting book (Like fr guys, let Glass have some rest, he's tired of babysitting over 100 dozens of pets in the zoo and all the other babies who work in it)

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scfrozenover · 3 years ago

Text

Happy Friday! Have lots of fluff and also smut and friendship and Hanukkah and siblings and GOATS! All the good stuff!

Following along? Don't forget to copy today's fics from the master spreadsheet to your own!

Bon Hiver

[David/Patrick - E - 41,388]

Patrick, fresh off ending his engagement, is desperate to not be around people this Christmas. It seems like a long shot that the owner of this cottage, in a town neither he nor anyone he knows has ever heard of, is also looking for an eleventh-hour escape over the holidays, but ... there's this pull in his gut that he's curious about.

The Holiday AU, part of the Frozen Over festival

Stickers of old men and a thousand yen

[David/Patrick - T - 3,620]

The birthday kiss between David and Patrick didn't happen, and now it's Christmas. What are they going to do when they draw each other in the town Secret Santa gift exchange?

But a couple of weeks later, Twyla pulled the names and now he had to find the perfect gift that said, “I think you’re amazing and sexy and gorgeous and perfect and I’m half in love with you, and would you please kiss me already” but with, like, a spending limit of $25.

Braid the Pieces Together

[David/Patrick, Rachel/OC - T - 3,276]

“I got a text.”

“From who?”

“Rachel.”

“Oh wow. When was the last time you heard from her?” David’s voice was curious, his eyes were still on the TV.

“The barbecue.”

David finally turned to look at Patrick. “What does it say?”

Patrick smiled. “It’s an olive branch.”

you're the only girl i've got on my list

[Rachel/Heather - G - 3,070]

“Where is the —”

“In the hall closet —”

“And the —”

“Also in the hall closet —”

“What about the —”

“Rachel, I love you, but I’m about to burn this quiche.”

A glimpse into Rachel's First Christmas at Warner Farms.

The Perfect Gift

[Alexis & David - G - 2,348]

One or both of them get the other the perfect gift. Because they (not so) secretly love each other a lot. Maybe when they are kids? Or post canon?

Adelina takes David and Alexis to visit Santa Claus at the Mall. David is less than thrilled by the whole experience.

Don't want to give anything away, so just read this short, sweet story for yourself to find out more 😊

Santa Claus, North Pole, H0H 0H0, Canada

[David/Patrick - T - 2,172]

This year, in the spirit of keeping things local, Canada Post has set up a little group writing session for all those who wanted to participate in the Letters to Santa program at City Hall in Patrick's new home of Schitt’s Creek. He’s only been here for a few weeks, having left his hometown seeking a fresh start. Finding himself missing all the comforts of home at this time of year, Patrick happily leads the efforts to spread joy and holiday cheer to all the children of the town.

Welcome To The Party, Pal

[Patrick & Stevie - M - 1,626]

"Johnny wanted David and Alexis to stay at the motel tonight.”

“Oh, that sucks, sorry,” Stevie said, stepping out of the way, so Patrick could reach to brush off the snow piled on her roof.

“It’s ok, I get it. It’s nice for them to have this. I’m just going to grab some Chinese take-out, and enjoy the solitude that is a house without Ray.”

“Or.”

“Or?”

Stevie held up her hand and began ticking off items on her fingers. “Wine. Take-out. Die Hard - the greatest Christmas movie of all time. Gremlins. Non-sexy sleepover.” She raised her eyebrow in question.

Patrick grinned back at her. “I’ll meet you at your place in half an hour.”

or Patrick and Stevie spend Christmas Eve together after the Rose's Christmas Party

An Exchange of Love

[David/Patrick, Marcy/Clint - G - 1,591]

David and Marcy bake together for a holiday party. David makes a new friend. Also, there are lots of cookies!

Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

[Stevie & David, David/Patrick, Stevie/Ruth - T - 1,563]

Stevie and David, much like the snow, thaw over time.

sweet delights

[Ted/Alexis - G - 1,512]

Three instances of Ted, Alexis, and wintertime baking.

[podfic] i thought i'd ask you just the same

[Alexis/Twyla - T - 35 minutes]

Does Alexis wish she could sing? Maybe. It's occurred to her once or twice. But then people's expectations would be higher than zero, and she'd have to try to meet them. It's always seemed like an awful lot of work for something that simply has to succeed, and it’s always been easy enough for her to make money off of simply entertaining people.

This holiday album, full of covers of well-known songs and familiar melodies, is different. She’s not contractually obligated to do it, and putting out something serious when her public image is the exact opposite feels like a risk. But she figures: when has she ever turned down a challenge? Never, and she isn't letting twelve songs and the iTunes streaming charts change that any time soon.

Alexis Rose, star of A Little Bit Alexis and sole breadwinner for the entire Rose family, gets more than she initially bargained for when she decides to make a Chrismukkah album with the help of her new music producer, Twyla Sands.

CREATORS: If your works were released today, please don't forget to update your posting date!

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vixenpen · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a KiriBaku smut imagine with a chubby black s/o

KiriBaku x (F)Thicc Black Reader NSFW

“Ugh! I need a vacation,” you groaned as you exhaled a stream of smoke.

“I need a baecation.” Kirishima replied, grabbing the joint from you.

“Haah? What the hell is that?” Bakugo chimed in, confused.

“It’s a vacation where you spend the whole time fucking.” You explained, laughingly.

“Tch. Isn’t that what vacations are for anyways?” He scoffed, beckoning to Kirishima for the joint next.

The three of you were relaxing at Katsuki’s massive apartment enjoying one of your rare days off together. Mellow music pumped through the surround sound system in his room and black lights cast a purple glow over everything.

The rotation matched the order you all were sitting in. Bakugo, sat against the headboard, your head resting in his lap, and Kirishima sat on the opposite side of you, massaging your feet. It felt amazing to be able to vibe with your best friends. Something that, since becoming pro-heroes, you all found yourselves with little time to do.

“Ya know, Katsu, not everyone turns into a horn dog the minute they step outside of a five mile radius of the gossip rags.” You laughed.

“Hey, if you idiots want the media dissecting your sex lives and splashing it all over the gossip rags that’s on you, but some of us actually give a fuck about our reputation as heroes.”

“Bro, at this point the whole internet knows you’ve got hoes in different area codes,” Kirishima chuckled. “You’re not foolin’ anybody.”

“Yeah, but can you name one name? No. Cuz the people I fuck with know how to keep their mouths shut when it counts.”

“You mean, you break ‘em off a fat check to keep them quiet.”

“Hey, it’s kept my name out of scandals. Can’t say the same for you Mr. Red Ran Through.”

You burst out laughing especially when you saw the baffled expression on Kirishima’s face.

“Ouch man! That was harsh.”

“But accurate.” You pointed out.

Kirishima definitely had a reputation in the hero world as a more of a lover than a fighter in every sense of the word. He was constantly courting a new hero, sidekick, or medical worker. But where as that type of philandering might hurt another hero’s reputation, Kirishima managed to come out of his multiple affairs relatively unscathed; as none of his former conquests had a negative word to say about him. You chalked it up to his charming and chivalrous personality.

“I may have been with a few of our colleagues-“

“A few?! Kiri, you’ve sucked and fucked your way through our entire agency. I think the only people you haven’t fucked in the hero world is us.”

“You, babe.” Bakugo chuckled blowing smoke in your face. “I’ve been there done that.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima laughed, “Bakugo was actually my first.”

“Wait, what?!” You shot up so fast, you almost knocked the joint from Bakugo’s hand. “I’m sorry, he was your what, when and where was I?!”

“Chill, thickums,” Bakugo smirked. “We were kids—still in high school. It was before we met you.”

You gaped back and forth between the two men in disbelief. Meanwhile they were trading the joint over you as if they hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the year on you.

“Aww baby,” Kirishima tucked your chin, running his thumb over you bottom lip. “What’s with that pouty face? Are you really that upset?”

“Yes!” You crossed your arms. “We’re besties and neither of you assholes thought that might be valuable information for me to know?”

“I mean, not really.” Bakugo snorted. “What were you gonna do with it? Sell it to the gossip rags?”

“Or maybe she was gonna dream about it herself.” Kirishima winked. There was a wicked gleam in his ruby eyes that made you flush.

“Heyyy, I think you may have been on to something there shitty hair.” Bakugo pinched your round cheek. “She’s blushing.”

“No I’m not! Black girls don’t blush!”

“Baby, blushing is more than just a color on your cheeks, it’s a mood, and right now you’re totally giving me that mood.”

“W-whatever! I could care less that you two used to sleep together.”

“Used to?” Kirishima quirked a brow.

That statement earned an incredulous look from you.

“S-seriously?! You still...” A pang if envy shot through you at the idea of your best friends sharing something that you weren’t apart of. “You know what, I don’t even care.”

“Oh?” Bakugo quirked a brow. “Then you won’t care if I do this.”

He reached across you to grab Kirishima by the collar and plant a deep kiss on the man’s lips. The burly redhead melted into the kiss easily.

Simultaneous moans escaped your friends as the kiss deepened.

“Ahem! Y’all realize I’m still here right?” You snapped.

“How could we forget?” Bakugo smacked one of your chunky thighs, jiggling it a bit. “That little show was for you thickums.”

You wished you could look away, but there wasn’t much else to look at with two hot, shirtless, muscular men looming over you. You popped your lips and rolled your eyes.

“That little attitude ain’t scarin’ nobody pun’kin.” Kirishima pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “I know you liked it.”

“Hell yeah she did.” Bakugo added. He toked the joint one more time and held your gaze as he blew the smoke in your face. The predatory way he sized you up made you feel...exposed—vulnerable. “You know, as long as we’ve all been friends, I wonder why neither me or Shitty Hair never tried to fuck your fine ass yet. God knows it’s not like we aren’t both into you.”

“Better yet,” Kirishima said, turning you to face him by your chin, “it’s not like we aren’t all into each other.” He kissed you again. This one was much more commanding than the last and his tongue wrestled yours into submission.

“Oi!” Bakugo snapped. He grabbed your chin as well and pulled you towards him. “You not gone keep stealing all her affection from me, Shitty Hair.”

Bakugo bit your lip, making you gasp. He took full advantage of that opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

Is this really happening right now? What the hell?

“G-guys, wait...” You pulled away from Bakugo.

“What’s wrong, sweetness?” Kirishima asked, sliding your box braids aside to plant gentle kisses along your neck.

Between his soft lips and Bakugo’s strong, scarred hands sliding along your thick thighs, your sex was clenching desperately for stimulation.

“You don’t want this?”

“I-I’m not sayin that, I’m just saying...” what the hell were you saying? Because the way Bakugo was sucking the top of your breasts had you drawing blanks.

“Why don’t you stop pretending, y/n?” He smirked up at you, hooking a finger into the scooped collar of your tank top and yanking it down to free your full, round breasts.

He hummed. “Fuckin’ delicious.” He groaned.

Licking his lips, the ash blonde dove down to suck your hard, brown nipple into his mouth making you hiss in pleasure.

“You clearly want this, y/n.” Kirishima chuckled. The deep, rich sound rolled down your spine and made goosebumps rise on your skin.

His large hand slid around your side to squeeze your other breast. He rolled the pebbled nipple gently between his fingers.

“You want this and so do we.” He nipped at your ear. “So what’s up? Are we doing this or not, thickums?”

Before you could say anything, Kirishima’s hot mouth sucked your nipple into it.

“Oh god.” You sighed as shivers ran down your spine.

They ran their strong hands up your juicy thighs, squeezing and massaging them.

Each man worked either side of your body. Bakugo was now behind you, running his hands down your spine—mouth tasting your sweet skin, nipping along your spine. He dug his hands into your hips, caressing them lovingly.

Kirishima took care of the front. He sucked hickies onto your soft stomach and slowly worked your shorts down.

He groaned at the sight of your bare brown skin.

“Damn, that’s beautiful.” He grinned up at you, ruby eyes flashing once more. His mouth landed in an open mouth kiss against your clothed core, fingers exploring your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Ki-Kiri~” you sighed.

Bakugo bit your ear, making you yelp in surprise.

“Is Kiri the only one here, thickness?” He asked.

“N-no..” you stammered back.

He slid his hand down until he reached your pussy and toyed with your clit. Shockwaves of pleasure coursed through you.

“Then say my name too, Thickums.” He plunged two fingers into your heat, flexing them towards your gspot.

“Ahaaa, Katsu!” You cried out.

“Man, Katsuki, you gotta see how pretty this kitty is.”

“Does it look as good as it feels?” He asked, slipping a third finger into your gripping cunt.

“Mmhhm,” he hummed in response. His long tongue slithered out, joining Bakugo’s fingers in your juicy pussy.

The sensations had your head swimming and your nipples and cat tingling with excitement.

“Tastes just as good too.”

“Oh yeah?” Bakugo slipped from behind you to join Kirishima’s side. He laced his fingers through the redhead’s long hair and forced a harsh kiss onto the man’s mouth. “Shit,” he muttered between kisses, “that is good. But I bet it’s better straight from the source.”

Soon Kirishima’s mouth and fingers were replaced with Katsuki’s. His fingers swam inside of you and he sucked at the sensitive button of your clit until your pleasured screams grew hoarse. Your cream soaked his face and hands. When he made way for Kirishima to join in, your moans only grew louder.

The two men seemed to be competing in who could bring you to ecstasy more times. They worked your sex until your legs shook and your toes curls. You dug your hands into their hair, and bucked your hips to meet their mouths, hungry for more of the overwhelming pleasure.

“Baku-Kiri, shit! Shit, shit, shiiiit! Oh my god!” You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t think.

“Cum for us, Princess,” Kirishima urged, “come for your daddies.”

And cum you did. Again, and again, and again, until everything went black.

(Art by: @deb_amm/Debby-San)

#kiribaku #kiribaku x reader #bnha imagines #my hero academia #mha headcanons #bnha #bnha scenarios #boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha smut #n/sfw #kirishima x bakugou #bakugo x reader x kirishima #black self insert

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emperor-palpaminty · 3 years ago

Note

"I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met." With western Tech I am begging

Ah! The return of Dr. Victor Trech "Tech" the Third! I have been watching too many Jane Austen movies again because oh no I am in a MOOD ANON, this was delivered with perfect timing! All credit goes to @weirdcharacter for the lovely creation of this AU, please go follow her (and her writing is great, @hellothere-generalangsty )

Rating: F for fluff. Fluffy fluff.

Jekk is “Jack” and Sheeyah is “Shay”! Yall know the drill. Also I'm not saying the reader looks like Sadie Adler (RDR) but her aesthetic is PERFECT for the reader and I just sjdhsksjsks, just the clothes and the hat and the attitude, I adore it warning this is very dramatic, send help, i need help, my expectation for men is unrealistic

Your world turned sideways, then upside down, sideways again, and then right side up. You laughed, tumbling again, coming to a halt at the base of the hill. The two children slid down by you, voices chorusing in laugher. Shay collapsed on your back as Jack skidded by you, giggling, grinning and displaying a stunning lack of front teeth. “You’re the funnest person in town.”

“Aw.” You grinned, reaching over and tugging on Jack’s straw hat. “You kids are pretty fun, too.”

A set of little fingers reached up, tugging the tangles of grass through your hair. “Mama and papa like you, too.”

“And I like them.” You sat up, yanking off your hat and letting your hair fall so Shay could braid it. She rose, taking your tendrils of hair and weaving them together. “I like yall more, though.” You winked at Jack, who giggled as you motioned him to shush. “Don’t tell them, though.”

Shay cackled behind you, tugging on your hair and tying it off. “We won’t!” She chirped.

“Your secret is safe with us!” The boy cawed, running around his sister. “Hey! Shay! I’ll race you back up the hill!” He turned and sprinted up.

“Hey!” Shay fussed at her little apron, hopping up, and then ran up after him. “Not fair! You had a head start!”

A laugh, deep and warm, escaped your chest as you stood. You followed the kids up the hill, walking slower as they neared the top. You stopped and glanced back at the landscape, the sea of gold rolling in waves from upcoming storm winds. You would think the fields of wheat were oceans of riches. Cut was rich in every way, of course- with a family as lovely as his and lands as broad and blessed, but the man was happier with grains than physical riches.

Thunder rolled above your head, shouting through the sky. You glanced up, then looked at the kids, who has just made it into their house. "Hey!" You yelled. "I'm going to run home."

The kids nodded, shouting their goodbyes and waving as they retreated inside to the warmth of their abode.

___

You barely managed to make it into the pergola in the center of town when the bottom really fell out of the storm above. The wood creaked under your feet as you moved, watching the rain, antsy for the clouds to lift.

Drumming your fingers on the old railing of the pergola, you made a couple of laps, taking in the sights of this town in the rain, the storm. You leaned on your elbows and looked over everything, thinking for a moment. Everyone was tucked away safe and sound in their homes, listening to the rain and wind and curling up with loved ones.

Even if you were the only one in your home, you wouldn't mind curling up alone, drinking some tea, listening to the pitter of rain on your windows-

Wait.

You leaned on the wood, squinting at the figure fast approaching you. Despite actively getting drenched by the unsympathetic rain, he was grinning.

"Victor," You whispered, turning and running to the steps of the pergola. You made it halfway down the stairs, the rain and wood scent assaulting you, when his hand grasped your arm and tugged you back under the cover of the humble structure. You tugged your hair out of your face, staring up at him, rubbing the water out of your face. "Victor!" You practically yelled above the rain. "What are you doing out here?"

The Doctor grinned, victoriously holding up an umbrella that had been stationed under his arm. "I had to bring this to you!" He smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck. "Uh... It hasn't done any good yet."

"Oh, Victor." You laughed and looked him over, shaking your head at the mud splashed on his trousers. "You're soaked!"

"I didn't want you to be alone." He said, watching you. "Waiting this out by yourself would be rough." His eyes, behind the rain-speckled specs, were bright as he looked you over, wet hair and all. "Stars," He said, hoarse. "You're beautiful."

A laugh tugged at your throat as you plunked down on the floor of the modest stand, and you patted the wood next to you. "You're very sweet, doc."

"I'm being serious," Victor plunked down next to you, taking off his specs and rubbing his dampened shirt on the lenses in an attempt to dry them. "I'm trying to be more bold. Honest, even."

You laughed again, shaking your head, the braid Shay made swaying on your shoulders. "Well, you're sweet, either way. And you're kind of pretty yourself."

He chuckled in his city-slicker way, a way that charmed you. "I like your braid." Victor paused, reaching up to examine it. "May I?" Upon receiving your nod of approval, he took the length of hair in his hand. Your whole scalp tingled at the sensation of his hands, gently skimming over the braid. "It's lovely. Shay?"

"Yes," You hummed. "Shay likes playing with hair, you know."

He chuckled, hands falling to your shoulders momentarily before dropping, and Victor scooting besides you, crossing his legs. “She does.” He added, eyes drawing to the rain.

You snuck a sideways glance at him. He really was pretty. Soft lips rounded a set jaw, intelligent dark eyes hiding behind glasses, skin tanned and warm with brown-red hair laying in wet curls on his head. You were never one for art, portraits, but heavens, if you could pick a picture to have engraved in your mind’s eye forever it would be this one, of him, wet and soaked from the rain and eyes soft. Your gaze darted away, and your stomach stirred- butterflies, your mama used to call them.

You felt a hand press softly over yours, fingers spreading hesitantly on your knuckles. You glanced up, blinking, and you smiled quietly. Victor’s own eyes moved up to yours and his cheeks pinkened, and he started to pull his hand back. “I’m sorry, I just-”

Your thumb flicked over his hand, trapping it over yours again. “It’s fine.” You whispered, barely audible against the rain. After a moment of silence, you squeezed his hand. "How did Victor Trech become 'Tech'?"

Victor chuckled, fingers flexing over yours. "Ah. Well, one of the letters I sent- I suppose the 'r' in Trech blended in with cursive, and... Well, I never corrected it."

You broke out in a giggle, looking over at him, feeling your lips almost split in laughter. "Really?"

He nodded, laughter filling the pergola. His eyes danced in the rain as he looked at you, intelligent gaze not diminished by the softness that lingered in his brown eyes- warm and ever present.

You sucked in a breath as he smoothed his hand up to your cheek, pushing a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “If I could just,” He whispered, watching it tuck back neatly. His words never finished- but they held a strong, finalized want in how he said them, prayed them.

His fingers cusped your jaw, and he swallowed harshly, the unsaid plea moving down his throat. “Forgive me.” His hand moved away from you, and he turned his head away, words hoarse. “You seem to make me forget the words that I had in my mind.” Victor grimaced momentarily, at the crack of thunder above them. “And you make me talk in flowery circles.”

“Why do I do that?” You leaned forward, cocking your head. The hair danced from behind your ear to brush a damp line along your cheek, but you ignored it- you were enraptured fully in him, his presence.

“Because you-” Victor’s words caught again, and his cheeks reddened as he glanced down at the old wooden ground of the pergola. “You make me want to say every good and noble thing that you bring to my mind, and you deserve no less than the best praises my lips can sing of you.”

Your thoughts fell flatter than an armful of barley on a windless day. His eyes were so sincere, warm, lips pressed together. “I said I was trying to be honest because I want to be open and honest with you, especially you, if not only you- and should you say no, my heart will still be yours, and I’ll never speak of my honesty with you again.”

A chuckle pressed firmly to your throat, and you watched him sit up more, nodding softly. “Go on,” You encouraged. “Speak to me.”

The words spilled out of his lips, like a dam of emotions, held back by fear. “You make me feel needed here- well, the patients make me needed, but you make me feel wanted. Oh, there is no better feeling than being wanted, my saving grace.” Victor’s hand found its way back to your yours, clasping it, words dancing with the now-steady drumming of the rain. “I need these hands to ground me, hold me, only if you’ll have me.” He pulled your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one so tenderly. Like the tall grass you ran your hands over in the summer, his kisses were soft and warm and warmed you, head to toe.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a long time, haven’t you?” Your brows raised. You were no longer chilled to the bone- you had thawed.

“Since the first day I met you.” Victor whispered against your hand.

You grinned, leaning in a little bit, catching his eyes in yours. “How about you stop kissing my hand and kiss somewhere else, Victor?”

The doctor stopped talking, mouth slamming shut and eyes flickering to your lips. He cleared his throat softly, and exhaled a shaky chuckle. "I... I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You're not." A smile pressed to your lips again and you moved your head, catching his eyes.

It took a moment. He nodded, leaning in halfway, and closing his eyes. His hands closed around yours, lips expectant.

You reached up and stroked a hand in his tangle of curls before closing the space. He flinched once your lips brushed his, but leaned back in, solidifying it. Everything fell into place, suddenly. The tugging at your heart every time you saw him, loving the way his name, him, tasted in your mouth, and those flashes of the tenderness you got- his doctorly touch examining your wounds, the fussing and concerns not always done out of his medical oath- how much of it had been done out of love?

Victor broke back, for a moment, enough for him to whisper your name, leaning in and kissing you, deeper, sweeter, humming against you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and sighed, willing the rain to fall for as long as it wanted to- you had all you would need right here.

#tbb western au #tech x reader #tech x you #bad batch tech x you #bad batch tech x reader #tech #minty writes #clone force 99 reader insert #bad batch reader insert

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