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shecagobaby · 2 years

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Love of My Life: Home

Hi! So this is the first chapter of a Joseph fic I’ve been writing in my spare time. I was originally just writing it for myself in the notes on my phone, but I have been encouraged to share. Honestly what started as an idea has turned into a full blown novel, so expect many chapters as I clean them up and proof read.

Warnings: None really, just mentions of sex. Now, I know that those that wanted me to share wanted smut- but do not fret my loves, the next chapter will be absolute FILTH. It is just not quite ready, so this is just the appetizer.

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x Y/N

Alright y’all, please be kind but I would also love feedback! (even if it’s just about the formatting, I haven’t posted in almost ten years, so I hope I’m doing this right. okay love you all enjoy)

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SEPT 2021

Nothing was more beautiful than London in the fall. The city was the same as it always was: heavy evening traffic, busy sidewalks, loud chattering as people headed home for the night. Even the familiar smell of beer and sweat that seeped out of the neighborhood pub was exactly the same. Yet something about crisp air and the changing trees made the most ordinary things unbelievably beautiful.

I smiled to myself as a cool gust of wind sent a shiver up my spine. Even though I was leaving a long meeting with my publisher, where I received some semi-harsh critiques on my most recent chapter of my novel, I felt like I was living in a dream world.

This autumn felt especially dreamy since Joseph was going to be home in a matter of days. He was scheduled to wrap filming ‘Stranger Things’ this week, so if things go smoothly he could potentially be back in my arms by the weekend. Being away from him had been hell. We lived together, so we saw each other every day, and during quarantine we spent every second together. Although we still chatted every day while he was on set, whether it was a quick text or a late night phone call, it wasn’t the same. I hadn’t felt him, held him, kissed him in what felt like forever. Our flat had lost his scent months ago. Each night I hugged his pillow, trying to get any indication that he was ever there.

The steamy pictures and unbelievably dirty words that would quietly leave his mouth on nights we especially missed each other were nothing compared to the real thing. My own fingers were nothing compared to his. I bit my lip as I thought about the things we would do to each other when he got back.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt my phone buzzing in my purse. I sighed as I rooted around in my bag searching for my phone. My hands moved quickly, hoping it was Joseph calling on his break, absolutely giddy at the thought of filling him in on the dirty thoughts that had crept into my mind.

I sighed when I noticed it was my best friend Tabitha, feeling a twinge of guilt at my disappointment when I saw her name instead of his. I groaned as I brought the phone to my ear, “hello?”

“Y/N, babe, what are you doing tonight?” I heard her Liverpool accent say on the other end.

I shrugged, “dunno, writing some, got some cleaning. Want the place to look nice when joseph gets back.”

“When’d ya become such a domestic bird?”She laughed, “I say you fuck all that boring shit and come get a drink with me and the girls.”

I rolled my eyes. Tabitha was always trying to get me to come out with them, but usually I would rather stay home. It used to be fun when I first moved to London . Tabitha was the first friend I made after moving here from Manhattan. We immediately took a liking to each other whilst waiting in line for the bathroom at some grimy club. Once Joseph and I started dating, and especially when he left, going out with her became more of a chore, “ya know, the pub isn’t very fun when you all leave me to go hook up with random guys.”

Over the last few months I hit the pub and clubs with them a handful of times, and it always turned into me bitching to Joe via phone call or text on the walk home because I was playing wing woman all night or they left me to chat up a guy at the bar.

“Oi, they aren’t random if you met them on tinder,” she joked.

“Oh yeah, what happened with the last guy?”

“Gotta be more specific, love. Might have been a few shags ago.”

I laughed at her promiscuous tendencies, while simultaneously feeling like an old maid. Tabitha was drop dead gorgeous: Great figure, huge tits, bright blue eyes, and long blonde hair. The only down side to Tabitha was she had unbelievable commitment issues. She would dissect every man she met until she found the tiniest reason to run for the hills.

“The one that was buying us tequila shots last time, he had that long hair you said you wanted to French braid,” I laughed remembering that night.

“Ugh, gorgeous hair, gorgeous cock, but he had a bird for a pet, ya know one of the ones that talk. He’d have full blown conversations with the damn thing. Dunno, made me feel weird,” she groaned.

I cackled, “C’mon, Tab, it’s not that weird. Lots of people have birds for pets.”

“Babe, would you want to fuck a lad that walks around the house looking like jack god damn sparrow with a bloody bird on his shoulder?”

I shook my head at the image in my mind, turning to walk up the steps that led to my building, “guess not.” I fumbled with my keys, holding the phone between my ear and my shoulder. I found the building key and put it in the lock, opening the door, “wouldn’t it shit on his shoulder?”

“Dunno, but I wasn’t going to stick around to find out,” she said. I started walking up the steps, climbing to my warm apartment. “So are you gonna come or not, feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen ya.”

I sighed, “I don’t know yet, Tab. Been a long day, kind of want to be low key.”

I got the key to the flat Joe and I shared as I reached our floor, walking to the door and unlocking it, “No you just want to sit around waiting for Joe to give you a call.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled as i pushed the door open, she was not wrong about that. “Tab, you can’t blame me for missing my boyfriend, you’ve never had to do long distance.”

“That’s because I don’t do relationships, can’t miss someone if it’s not serious.”

As I entered the flat, I was enveloped by a warm sensation. It was much warmer than usual. I sighed, thinking about Tabitha’s offer. “Can I let you know?” I said shrugging off my purse and bending down to pet our dog, Mikey. I actually got Mikey when I was seventeen, long before I met Joseph.

I couldn’t help but smile as I reminisced about the first time Joseph met Mikey:

‘Michelangelo? Like the painter?’

‘No, the ninja turtle.’ I said as I introduced my boyfriend to the dog I referred to as my son.

“Hi, babe, had a good day?” I asked Mikey as I bent down to give him a few pets before he ran off. I furrowed my brows, usually Mikey would go crazy when I go home, but he did not want anything to do with me at the moment.

“Fine,” Tabbie said, I could feel her rolling her eyes through the phone, “Give my love to Michael. I’ll give you a call later, alright?”

“Talk to ya then,” I said taking the phone away from my ear and hanging up. I slid out of my jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

“Hey, love.”

I gasped at the voice, whipping around to see my gorgeous boyfriend standing in the living room.

I froze, completely shocked. I blinked hard. Was this real? I stared at him, he was standing there with the fireplace going behind him. No wonder it was so warm, and it really explained why Mikey wasn’t interested in me. Often times I teased Joseph that he was in a relationship with my dog.

“Surprised?” He said smiling at me.

I felt like my heart was going to pop, tears pooled in my eyes. He was real, “oh my god, Joe.” I half screamed half sobbed as I spoke. I quickly moved to him. As I got closer he held his arms out for me.

I collided with him, he wrapped me up in a loving hug, lifting me up as Mikey danced at our feet. I instinctually wrapped my legs around his waist, squeezing him tight against me while I buried my nose between his neck and shoulder. His familiar scent clouded my senses. No matter what cologne he wore, he always smelt the same: mahogany, cigarettes, and spearmint never smelt so delicious. I tangled my fingers into his soft curls, desperately trying to bring him closer.

“I missed you so much,” he groaned into my neck, leaving a soft kiss there.

I pulled away to look at him, the tears in my eyes spilling over. I brought one of my hands to his cheek, running my thumb over his beautiful features. He leaned into my touch and hummed, his bright brown eyes staring into mine.

I couldn’t believe he was here. I leaned down to catch his lips in mine making butterflies erupt in my stomach. His soft lips felt like heaven against mine, i couldn’t believe I had almost forgotten what they tasted like. I put both my hands on his cheeks and kissed him harder as tears continued to fall down my face.

He broke the kiss to scan my face, “happy tears, yeah?” He whispered.

I laughed, “yeah.” He set me down on the ground, keeping one hand around me and the other came to my face to wipe away my tears. I placed my head to his chest, feeling his heart beat against my cheek. “I missed you so fucking much,” I whispered.

“I know, love. But I’m here, I’m back.” He sighed, resting his chin on the top of my head. Mikey let out a low bark as Joseph bent down to scoop him up in his arms, “Did you miss me, huh? Ya miss your dad?” my heart swelled, as I gave Mikey a few pets. Our little family was back together.

We stood there like that for who knows how long. A few seconds, minutes, hours? Who could tell?

He put Mikey back on the floor before he brought his hand to my chin, cupping it making me look at him. He leaned down to place a soft kiss to my lips. I hummed against his mouth and i felt him smile against mine. “I love you,” i breathed.

“I love ya, too. So fucking much.” He said resting his forehead against mine.

“How are you here?” I asked, running my hands down the soft fabric of his burnt orange shirt, biting my lip as I felt his warm skin underneath.

His hands roamed my back, the pressure of his fingers felt amazing. His hands moved down and slipped into the back pockets of my jeans. His breath fanned over my face as he said, “I finished up two days ago, thought I would surprise my girl.”

He placed a soft kiss to my forehead, “well it worked,” i sighed. “How’d you know i wouldn’t be home?”

He chuckled, a silly grin lighting up his face. “Agnes, she called me when you were leaving.”

I giggled and rolled my eyes. Agnes lived in our building. She was 76, had 4 corgi’s, and was incredibly nosy. She somehow managed to know everyone’s business before anyone else. I swear the short woman just stood with her eyes glued to her peep hole, watching as everyone lived their lives. She was incredibly kind, but I always dreaded when she would be in the hallway at the same time as us. She would stop us and fill us in on all the building gossip. I would always smile and now as she spoke; but I got the feeling that Joseph kind of liked gossiping with her, his eyes always lighting up at her stories.

“Gotta love her,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the thin chain he was always wearing. As I took a deep breath i smelt something familiar. I furrowed my brows, “are you cooking?”

His eyes went wide, “oh shit, almost forgot.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the kitchen. The scent got stronger the closer we got. I recognized it immediately. He was cooking my favorite, an amazing mushroom stuffed chicken in a white wine sauce. I remembered him watching me take a bite the first time he made it for me. He looked so handsome and so relieved when I told him I loved it.

“Makin’ your favorite,” he said as we reached the kitchen.

I was confused, “Joseph, shouldn’t I be doing this kind of stuff for you? what is all this?” I looked around and noticed the table was set, candles were lit, and there were flowers in a vase on the counter.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, I leaned my head back so it was resting on his chest. “Just want ya to know how much I love you.” He kissed the top of my head and continued, “you’ve been so supportive and patient with me through all this, I don’t think I could have done it with out you.” His words made my heart swell. I reached my hand back to caress his cheek. “So, this is my thank you,” he whispered.

“I don’t feel like I did anything. it was all you, you did it all on your own.” I turned around in his arms, he was shaking his head. His eyes were filled with so much love. I felt like i could start crying again as I spoke, “I don’t deserve you, Joseph. Thank you for all of this.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, “you deserve the world, Y/N,”

he whispered against my lips. I smiled as I leaned into his kiss. He was the kindest person I had ever met. I had never felt so safe and secure in a relationship. He loved me so much and I knew it, and he knew I was in love with him. He knew me so well. He knew my mind, heart, and body like he knew his own. I also could not help but feel like he was stuck with me given the fact that Mikey was enamored with him.

He pulled away from the kiss making me whine. I tried to pull his face back down to mine, suddenly aching for his kiss. He smirked and grabbed my hands, chuckling at how desperate I was to feel his lips on mine, “there is a catch though,” he hummed.

I raised an eyebrow, “and what might that be?” I asked.

“Well first, you’re going to make me your famous dirty martini that you know I’ve missed so much,” he whispered.

I blushed and looked down. When Joseph and I met in early 2018 I was bartending for some extra money. I will never forget the first time he came in and sat at the bar. He had a long day and just found out he hadn’t gotten a role he really wanted. He ordered a martini from me and went on and on about how it was the best one he ever had. I remember he stayed until the pub closed, talking and laughing with me. I was sad when he left, he hadn’t asked for my number or anything. I remember my heart sinking, knowing I would probably never see him again after an amazing night. Then the next night he came back, that’s when I started to feel myself falling in love with him.

“I can do that,” i whispered, looking down at my hands in his.

“Good,” he exhaled. He laced his fingers in mine, “then we’re going to eat.” He brought my hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. Then he grazed his lips over my knuckles, placing soft random kisses across them. “Then,” his voice became deeper as he spoke , “I’m going to make you cum as many times as I possibly can.”

A soft moan left my lips, I immediately felt myself starting to get wet. I bit my lip as I thought about how good he could make me feel. It had been so long since he’s touched me, I missed his calloused fingers, his tongue, and especially his cock. I swallowed hard as i thought about the first time we had sex all those years ago, he made me climax three times before he even slipped into my folds. No one had ever made me cum before, only myself. I was always shocked at the way Joe could make me fall apart with the ease.

“Sound good, love?” he said, his voice back to normal, snapping me back to reality. I never knew how he could say something that made me so weak in the knees and then go back to normal like nothing happened.

I nodded and cleared my throat, “sounds great,” my voice cracking at the end.

He gave me a quick kiss before he dropped my hands, “let me finish this up, all right?” He said gesturing toward the stove.

He walked away and tended to the food. I took a deep breath as I moved towards the refrigerator, grabbing the ingredients for the martini. I heard him humming as he cooked. I looked back at him, it was nice seeing him home again. It felt like he had never left, everything was suddenly back to how it’s supposed to be.

I grabbed the cocktail shaker from on top of the refrigerator, filling it almost to the brim with ice. I opened the cabinet next to the fridge and grabbed two martini glasses and some tooth picks. I opened the bottle of vodka and poured it into the now frosty shaker. I added a very small splash of vermouth to the vodka. That was part of my secret, most people don’t add any vermouth to a dirty martini. Then i added a generous amount of brine from a jar of olives before letting a few fall into the shaker. I remember him saying ‘make it as filthy as possible,’ when he ordered. Not knowing how to make a dirty martini more dirty, i began to shake his with a couple of olives.

I grabbed a glass and popped it on the top of the shaker, snapping it into place with the side of my fist. I brought it up and began to shake it quickly. Once I was happy with the amount it was shaken, i hit the side of it with the heel of my palm to release the cup from the shaker.

“Ya still got it, babe,” I heard Joseph say behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him looking back at me with a small smile on his lips. I rolled my eyes and smiled back at him. Joe was always impressed with my bartending abilities. I bartended to pay my way through college and had gotten really good at it. I had done it for so long that it felt like second nature to me, I didn’t have to think about my movements while I made a drink.

I grabbed the strainer and popped it on top of the metal shaker and poured the liquid in the glass. I was impressed that I had the exact amount to fill both glasses to the brim. I grabbed to tooth picks and poked them through the olives, two for Joe and one for me.

I carefully grabbed the glasses and walked to Joseph. His face lit up as he saw me handing him his glass. He took it and lifted it towards me, “cheers, love.”

“Cheers, handsome,” i whispered as we clinked glasses. I brought the glass to my lips and sipped the drink. The drink was strong, cold, and delicious.

Joe hummed as he took a gulp, “the fucking best,” he said as he sat his glass down.

I smiled and stepped behind him, wrapping my hands around his waist. I rested my cheek against his back right below his shoulder blades. My hands ran over his stomach through the fabric of his shirt. I slipped my hands under the hem of his shirt, humming when I felt his bare stomach against my fingers. I traced my fingertips up his happy trail, earning a shiver from him.

We sat there in a nice, calming silence as he cooked and i continued to rub my hands on his soft skin. The only sound was him cooking and the soft humming I could feel vibrating through his chest.

“Babe,” he said, making me jump.

“Yes, my love?” I asked, placing a kiss to his back.

“Mind helping me?” He said.

I nodded as i dropped my hands from his belly. I came next to him and he gestured to the parsley on the cutting board next to him. I grabbed a big drink of my martini and picked up the knife. I rolled the parsley and began chopping.

Joseph placed his empty glass down, “another?” I asked.

“Yes please,” he smiled at me.

I finished chopping, threw back my drink, and made another. I felt a slight buzz, realizing how long it had been since I drank anything stronger than a glass of wine.

I sat our glasses in our spots at the table. “Ready?” Joe asked.

I nodded, i walked over to him to help carry the food to the table. He grabbed my shoulders stopping me. “What?” I asked.

He turned me around and walked me back to the table, “i got it, just sit down,” he said. He grabbed the back of my chair and pulled it out for me.

“Such a gentleman,” i said as I sat.

He brought the food over as I placed my napkin in my lap. He portioned some roasted potatoes, vegetables, and chicken onto my plate before adding it to his. He looked down and frowned as he sat, grabbing my ankle. He placed my foot on his lap and unzipped the boots I forgot to take off. He slipped them off and gave a squeeze to my foot before doing the same to the other. “Better?” He asked.

I nodded and said, “thank you,” leaning in and giving him a kiss.

We sat and ate, talking about everything. He told me all about being on set, and i happily listened. I missed hearing him tell me stories, even when he laughed his way through it; his laughter making it nearly impossible to keep up. I could listen to him forever. The way his eyes light up and his face is so expressive.

When we finished I thanked him for cooking and grabbed our plates taking them to the sink. I began rinsing them when I felt him behind me, his hands on either side of the counter trapping me against him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.

“Babe, you cooked, the least I can do is take care of the dishes,” i said.

He moved my hair from my shoulder, exposing my neck. I shivered when i could feel his breath on my neck. He chuckled and started to place soft open mouth kisses along my skin, pausing to suck a soft mark on the sensitive spot right below my ear.

I moaned and leaned my head, exposing more for him. He softly bit down, making me hiss and drop the plate i was rinsing into the sink. “Shit.” I gasped when his hand travelled down my sides.

“Go to the room, want ya naked,” he whispered against my skin, “I’ll be there in a minute.

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Thank you so much for reading! I will hopefully have part two (be prepared for the smuttiest smut you’ve ever read) posted by this time tomorrow. I love you all.

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #joe #joseph #joe quinn #joseph x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #Eddie #quinn #dickensian #makeup #les mierables

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ronnie-azumane · 3 years

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Rebound

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader 18+

NSFW, IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

Warning: mentions of breakup, cunnilingus, 1 photo taken (nature of which is slightly nonconsensual), aftercare

A/N: So, uhh, these past few months have been wack in regards to my love life. I went from breaking off an almost 2-year long distance relationship, to proclaiming that I’m gonna have a hoe phase on Tinder, to actually meeting a guy who I actually like (who knew I would have a successful Tinder relationship?!?!)…….. soooooooo

ALSO-- this is my first (serious) smut I've ever written. Please be kind.

ALSO ALSO-- if this gets enough love, I might make this concept into a full-blown fic

You did everything right. You made time for him. You gave him gifts. You sent him both a good morning and a goodnight text every day. You fulfilled his needs, even when it didn't necessarily benefit you.

Or so you thought.

If you didn't answer that butt-dial from him and heard the pants and moans coming from his end, you would have lived happily in ignorant bliss. If you didn't go to check on him to see if he was ok, you wouldn't be in the predicament you found yourself in currently.

Now you find yourself, wrapped in blankets, crying on his neighbor's couch.

Your boyfriend would always complain about his next door neighbor Tetsurou Kuroo, how he would be the reason your boyfriend got in trouble with loud music and smoking with the landlord. However, despite your boyfriend's hatred of him, you grew close to the rooster head, becoming proper friends and not the girl who apologizes after every night she gets a little loud. He didn't approve of this friendship, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

Now that he's your ex, there is absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"So you walked in and saw him banging his coworker?" Tetsurou asked, placing a glass of cold water into your hand. Your body shook as you lifted the glass up to your lips to take a sip. You then set the glass down on the side table.

"Yes, and it was the one he told me not to worry about." you stuttered. You didn't care much for that coworker. She always seemed to weasel her way into your relationship. Date nights were cut short by her calling your [now ex] boyfriend to help her with a problem. He always seemed to be texting or calling her, and when you would ask why, he would just say 'work' and close his phone so you couldn't see. You would express your concern, but he would assure you that he only had eyes for you.

What bullshit.

Your wails of agony have since subsided to small sniffles. Your breathing was still rapid and without control, but for the most part you were calming down.

Then your phone went off, sounding a text tone that you had specifically saved for your now ex boyfriend.

As you reach for your phone, Tetsurou grabs a hold of it.

"Gimmie that," you whine.

"Password," Tetsurou demands.

"W-what? I'm not just gonna give-"

"Password!" Tetsurou demands even louder. Sighing, you tell him your password and he unlocks your phone. He reads over the text your ex sent you, talking about how you didn't know the whole story and scoffs. He taps on your phone a bit and gently tosses it on the couch cushion next to you as she sits himself down.

"Blocked him for you. He was going on about how you don't know the whole story and that this was the first and only time he messed up. Newsflash, I'm his neighbor, and the girl he has been with the last few weeks definitely wasn't you."

"Oh," you sniffle. So your suspicions were correct. This had been going on for quite a bit. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you asked Tetsurou.

"Well, honestly, I just put the pieces together this morning," Tetsurou replies. The walls are thin, so he could hear every gasp and moan that happened on the other side. He figured it was you, since you were his girlfriend after all. He would just turn on a show and watch it to tune out the love making on the other side of the wall. However, when he didn't receive the usual sorry note under the door that you would write, he knew something was up. The amount of times he would have to turn on his show wasn't going down, but the amount of the little notes he received was.

"You know, I don't think he ever loved me," you say, turning away from Tetsurou. "I honestly think he only liked the idea of me." The waterworks started to flow again.

"I tried so hard, you know? I know he didn't treat me the best, but I stuck with it because I thought he truly loved me," you sob into your hands. You smash your palms into your eyes as you cry out, as if you are trying to stop the tears coming out of your eyes. But they don't stop. If anything, they start to flow out faster.

"What did I do wrong?"

As soon as that question escaped your lips, Tetsurou pulled you into his lap and pressed you head against his chest. You cried even harder, balling his tear-soaked t-shirt in your clenched fists. He ran his nails across your scalp, lightly scratching it in an attempt to calm you down. Usually you would tell him to stop so as to not mess up your hair, but hair was the last thing on your mind at the moment. His other hand was rubbing your back, grounding you from the emotions racking your body at the moment.

"You did nothing wrong," he whispered over and over again in your ear, repeating until you calmed back down. He reached across from you and grabbed the glass of cold water and placed you off of his lap.

"Please drink up, I think you cried half of your water weight in the past 30 minutes alone," he joked, earning a small giggle from you. "I hate to leave you alone, but I'm going to change real fast and get you some bubble tea from that place down the street you like. Sound like a plan?" He asked, earning a nod from you.

With that, he stood up and left to go change and get some tea. You sat back on the couch and watched the door close shut. Now you were alone.

You had been in his apartment a couple times before, but now you were truly looking around at his décor. He didn't have much hanging on his walls, but he had a few pictures here and there. One was of his old volleyball team from high school. He stood in the middle with his red number 1 jersey sticking out for all to see that he was the captain.

Another picture he had on the wall was a picture of a small girl in his arms. After recalling a couple of conversations the two of you had, you remembered that he did have an older sister who had a daughter of her own. His niece.

Her short black hair was sticking up into two little pigtails, each decorated with a small pink bow. Her fluffy pink dress contrasted beautifully with the black dress shirt Tetsurou was wearing. Both of their smiles reached their ears.

He looked pretty good.

You sit there thinking, realizing only now that Tetsurou, the 'nasty neighbor' of your ex boyfriend, your friend, was pretty attractive. How come he didn't have a girlfriend of his own? Did he maybe swing the other way? You shook that thought out of your head when you remembered the stories he would tell of his high school sweetheart.

What happened to her?

While you're lost in thought, you don't hear the front door opening up.

"Here!" Tetsurou shouts, scaring the living daylights out of you. In one hand he's holding two cups of tea with the little tapioca balls at the bottom, and in the other are two straws. You sigh in relief as he sits down next to you, handing you your tea and straw.

"Tetsurou, what ever happened to that girl you dated in high school?" you ask as you stab the straw through the plastic.

"Oh, Alisa? It wasn't too brutal. Our futures were going in different directions and we just fell out of love," he shrugged as you sipped some tea and a few balls of tapioca.

The silence is deafening. Every time you glance at him, you shutter. 'How did I not see how hot he is earlier?' you scold to yourself.

The longer you look at him, the more you get worked up. Your eyes travel downwards to his neck. His Adams apple is sticking out, not too much, but just the perfect amount. They continue downward to his arms, which are framed beautifully by the cotton t-shirt he's wearing. His veins twist across his muscular arm and down to his hands.

Oh god his hands! The roughness of the veins popping out contrast with the smooth, even coloring of his skin. light callouses dot his palms, but for the most part, his hands are soft. perfect for caressing-

Not paying attention, you start to choke on a tapioca pearl. Coughing and wheezing, and with a little help from Tetsurou, you get it out of your windpipe. You pull the straw a little higher to avoid any more tapioca at the moment to catch your breath.

"You alright?" Tetsurou asks, and you nod a little too frantically. He squints his eyes and stares at you for a little bit, seeking confirmation that you're actually ok and not lying to him. Pursing your lips together in a sort-of smile, he takes that as the confirmation he needs and moves back to his drink.

The way he sips on the straw, how his soft, supple lips form around the straw and suck. The way the tea he's drinking dribbles down his chin just a little bit. The way he moves his thumb over his chin to wipe it up.

It shouldn't be getting you this worked up.

"So, is there anything you want to do now?" Tetsurou asked, reaching for the remote as if to imply that they should watch something on the TV. The way his arm flexes as he reaches across you.

You can't take it anymore.

"I want you to fuck me!" you blurt. As soon as the words left your lips, your hands shot up to cover your mouth.

Now it is his turn to choke on his tea. He drops the remote and it breaks apart on the wooden floor. Your hands migrate from your mouth to cover your face. This has to be the most embarrassing moment in your life.

"W-what?" Tetsurou asked, finally catching his breath. You keep your hands on your face, as if they are glued in place. The last thing you want is to look at him, much less in the eye.

"Ju-just ignore what I said! It's not important!" you frantically wave your hands around, hoping maybe they can help you fly away from the current situation.

Alas, you are merely human, and must suffer through the consequences of your actions.

Frantically, you shoot up from your seat, mumbling a string of farewells as you walk toward the door. However, you do not make it far, as you find your hand encapsulated in Tetsurou's as he yanks you back onto your spot on the couch.

"You can't just leave after saying something like that," Tetsurou mumbles. His ears are burning bright red while his cheeks are dusting a soft pink.

"Don't worry about it, I'll just download tinder and relive my frustrations there," you stutter, trying to stand up. However, under Tetsurou's grip and stare, your attempts are rendered futile. Fully realizing the situation, you sigh and throw your head back against the back of the couch.

"Fine," you mumble, blushing, "sorry for making you uncomfortable, I definitely did not mean to say that out loud."

Silence.

Unsure of what to do, you start to explain yourself.

"I'm just so frustrated, and I just wanted to... you know... get him back, like an eye for an eye type of deal," yo ramble on.

Tetsurou dropped his head into the palms of his hands, nodding his head left and right.

"And while you were gone, I kinda realized how attractive you were and i-"

"I never said I wouldn't, did I?" Tetsurou asked, not lifting his face out of his hands.

With that statement, the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your heart beats faster in your chest, while simultaneously wrapping itself tight within your body.

"No, uh, you don't have t-"

""Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... for a while now," Tetsurou admitted, "So I'll do it, my only rule being that we won't go all the way today."

You press your fists into your plush thighs. "Why not? You literally just admitted that you were attracted to me," you ask.

"Because I don't want to give myself false hope."

"Why would fucking give y-" you tried to ask before Tetsurou interrupted your interruption.

"You just broke up with your long time boyfriend, a messy break-up I may add. Your emotions are all over the place. I really like you, (y/n), I just don't want to be your rebound. I want to be with you because you truly like me, not to get back at your shitty ex next door." He let out, like a breath held underwater.

"Oh," you whisper. He made a great point. What were your intentions right now? Was this all a ploy to get revenge on your ex? Did you actually like Tetsurou that way?

Did it really matter?

"So what?" you ask, stunning Tetsurou into silence.

Tetsurou swallows the lump in his throat and asks you to clarify.

"Well, there is a mutual attraction, and we both clearly want this, why don't we just go for it and see what happens?" you ask.

The pause is long and silent. Tetsurou’s eyes were looking everywhere but at you. Did he actually want this? Yes, but in this way? He took a glance in your direction and saw you still staring down at your tea, swiveling the ice around in circles.

You were definitely a sight for sore eyes in Tetsurou’s ever so humble opinion. The way your face was tinted the slightest red color made his heart melt. He would never forgive his neighbor for what he did to you, making your larger than life personality look small and meek.

Overwhelmed with feelings of both attraction and adoration, he simply couldn’t help himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, but after all this time of him secretly crushing on her from a distance, he just couldn’t hold out anymore.

He grabbed your face and turned it toward him, crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss became more feverish as the seconds passed. A simple peck turned into moments of locking lips, trying to taste each other.

His lips were thin, however soft, with the slight sting of mint chapstick tingling your tongue. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue out to taste his bottom lip. He took the signal and included his tongue in the dance, the two muscles stroking together as he grasped the hair on the back of your head and pulled you closer.

As the make-out session continued, the two of you started to position yourselves on the couch; you lying against the armrest and him balancing himself on top of you. Once in this position, his hands started to wander across your body.

Every curve of yours was not left without attention. His hands traveled from behind your head to your chest, from your chest to down your stomach, from your stomach to your thighs, and finally spread your thighs apart to gain access to your covered core, where you wanted to feel his hands the most.

His kisses started trailing south to the crook of your neck, moving from kissing to sucking as he started to rub your clothed slit. An airy gasp escaped your lips, enjoying all the sensations you were feeling at the moment. Once he was satisfied by the purple bruise left just above your collarbone, he started to sit up, causing you to whine from the loss of contact.

Your whining soon stopped however when you noticed him grabbing at your shorts, working to pull them down. As he started to pull down, your breath got caught in your throat, causing it to be held in. Flinging your shorts and panties behind him, he gently kissed your thigh and asked, “Do you still want this, you seem a little tense?”

“Yes!” you gasp a little too fast. His breath was so warm against your wet pussy, teasing you to the point of no return.

“Ok, you have to let me know if you get too overwhelmed or want to stop at any point,” he says before diving down. You are about to acknowledge him until a heavy gasp escapes your lips before you can give your confirmation.

Tetsurou didn’t hesitate going down on you. He simply couldn’t wait any longer. Simply pumping his fist wasn’t doing it for him anymore.

He started to kiss, flick, and suck at your clit, making you breathe harder with the rising pleasure. His movements were soft and light, but they were shaking your very core. He grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him more access.

His movement was simple, something you could easily replicate with your fingers and maybe a quality toy, but that didn’t change how it was working on you. Your heavy breaths turned into soft whimpers as the pleasure began to bubble up.

You were progressing nicely, but Kuroo didn’t think it was progressing fast enough. To remedy his frustrations, he rubbed his fingers against your wetness, slicking it up to start thrusting into you.

The anticipation of his fingers slipping into you made your whimpers louder. He switched up his mouth to sucking your clit between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue and slowly inserted a finger. He pressed the pad of his finger against the ceiling and started to thrust in and out, rubbing against the entirety of your g-spot softly.

This new sensation had you bucking your hips and bubbling over with pleasure, pretty much ripping the orgasm out of you. Tetsurou smiled as you rode out your orgasm, moaning and whimpering small vowel sounds.

The orgasm was nice, but Tetsurou knows you can be louder, he's definitely heard you get louder at least.

Before you can fully recover from your high, his lips reattach to your clit and insert two fingers into you. The moan that escaped your lips was loud and almost pornographic. He smirked, knowing your shit ex next store most likely heard it.

Although, he knew that the fun this round was only just beginning.

Instead of thrusting his fingers in and out, he started to press his fingers up against you, as if he was motioning for you to come here.

The new motion of his fingers mixed with his lips sucking and tongue flicking at your clit was causing you to sprint to the edge way too fast. You couldn’t hold back your moans by control alone, so you bit the back of your hand in an attempt to suppress the noise.

Tetsurou was having none of that today. Using his other hand, he rips your arm away from you, silently implying that he wants to hear how loud you were being.

You try to ground yourself by grasping the armrest behind you, although that doesn’t do much to stop yourself from the orgasm that's rising far too quickly.

Your moans are getting louder and louder as you get closer and closer. Tetsurou has you teetering on the edge as his movement gets faster and faster. Soon your coil snaps and you find yourself cumming harder than you ever have before.

You thrash your head side to side as your hips buck up toward his fingers. He removes his lips and fingers and starts to quickly rub his fingers back and forth on your clit as you ride out your orgasm, extending the peak longer than what you're used to.

As you start to once again come down from your high, you hear soft chuckling coming from Tetsurou. You look up to find his shirt soaking wet.

“Di-did i-i do that?” You ask, afraid of the answer.

“If you’re referring to the squirting, yes, you just did. Hard,” Kuroo smirks, causing your already flushed face to burst even more red in embarrassment. Instinctively, you hide your face behind your hands, as if you could magically disappear if you couldn’t see him.

“Pretty hot,” he mutters to himself before beginning to suckle on your inner thigh, allowing you to completely come down before going back at it. Beyond your blissful sighs, Tetsurou heard your phone buzzing in the background.

Blocked Number.

An evil smirk came to his face as a sinister idea popped into his mind. While you were blissfully unaware of your phone buzzing, Tetsurou opened your phone and unblocked your ex, just to see if he was reacting to the pretty sounds you were making.

And reacted, he did.

Countless messages flooded your phone after Tetsurou unblocked his number, with messages ranging from ‘come back, let’s talk baby,’ to ‘you better not be with Kuroo right now.’ The final message read, “I know that’s you at Kuroo’s apartment, you fucking bitch.”

“Tetsurou, what are you doing?” you ask, finally in grip with reality.

“Just giving your ex a bit of a show,” he replied, diving right back in.

Breathlessly, you grasp his bed head, trying to get a grip on your once again slipping reality. In the heat of the moment, he pushed your thighs down to each side, revealing your flushed pussy. While flicking his tongue on your clit once again, he snapped a selfie. In the frame was his face, smirking with his tongue out flicking your clit. To make the picture even better, your manicured hands were in view, gripping his hair in pleasure.

Perfect for a porn twitter account.

Tetsurou typed out ‘your loss, pal,’ and sent the text, blocked your ex’s number once again, and tossed your phone to the side, getting back to work, soon bringing you to your third and final orgasm.

After cleaning you up and bringing you a glass of water, Tetsurou snuggled up to you under a cozy blanket. As your endorphins went down, the pure dread of what your ex did came back.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N), do you regret what we did?” Tetsurou asked, the expression of pure concern expressed on his face.

“No, I’m just angry about this whole thing! Three years gone!” you shutter, trying to hold back tears. Tetsurou held you tighter.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.

For the next ten minutes, you were crying into his chest as he rubbed you back and whispered soothing words.

As you calm down and sip your water, Tetsurou breaks the silence saying, “We need to talk about what just happened and what we are.”

You don’t reply, instead, you stare off to the side past Tetsurou’s shoulder.

“I kinda like you, but I’m not sure,” you meekly reply.

“Understandable. I want you to sleep on the idea of us. After you think of it, I want you to call me. Then we can get dinner.”

Space is what she needs, and space is what Tetsurou is willing to give her.

“Sounds great, but can I stay a little longer?” you ask, nuzzling seemingly closer into his warmth.

“Stay as long as you need, sweetie.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #tetsurou kuroo smut #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader smut #smut #lemon #do people still use lemon?#oh well im using it #cheating

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eneiryu · 2 years

Note

Hey! I’ve spent the last few weeks churning through everything you’ve written on AO3, and I just adore your writing style. I’m a big thiam fan, and one of the things that gets me about your work with that pairing in particular is that most of your stories start at the same jumping point (end of canon) but they vary in plot so significantly - you’re so imaginative in what could potentially happen with Theo, with the pack, with Scott’s alpha skills, with so much post canon. There’s the trial and Theo’s tattoos, or Theo volunteering to be an undercover spy, or creating a wolfs bane vaccine at the operating theatre and Theo dying. And so many more!!! I love how you recycle plot points between stories but slightly differently; in one fic Corey and Theo fight over Theo physically visiting the chimera graves, in another Corey doesn’t mind and gives Theo permission to go, etc. I would love to read and pay for actual books you write one day (if you haven’t already and I’ve just missed out!!) because I’ve honestly read fic in so many genres for well over a decade now and it’s been a while since a writer has captivated me like you have. You’re a true artist, and it’s such an honour to be able to read and appreciate your work!! Thank you so much for sharing it with the world.

That is all so unbelievably kind, thank you. I was a long-time fic reader before I ever started writing, and even then it was mostly motivated by my own need for closure: I needed the whole unresolved whatever of Liam and Theo to work out one way or the other, so eventually I wrote it. But it’s constantly blown me away how well my stories have been received, and how much readers seem to enjoy them, and it truly never stops being a gift. I’ve become such a better writer over the years (of fic! I have not published anything outside of it, though again—I’m hugely flattered), and a lot of that has to do with the engagement I get from readers: the prompts, the comments, the likes/reblogs, the what-ifs, and—for those that have reached out one way or the other—the help actually working through plot points, beta reading, etc. I really can’t thank folks like you and others enough for still being interested after all these years, and giving me the motivation and the inspiration to keep exploring all those different variations. To sound potentially massively over-the-top about it, fic and fic writing is an extremely important part of my life, now, and the community of folks involved in it is a huge part of that.

So, to reiterate—thank you so much for the incredibly kind note. 😊

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kakaxhi · 3 years

Note

I’m so happy you’re now writing for haikyuu!!! Could I please request scenarios for Keishin, Kotaro, Atsumu and Osamu apologizing after an argument?

Ahh my first Haikyuu!! request! Hope you enjoy :)

Keishin sat behind the counter, eyes scanning his magazine but not really paying it any mind.

His attention was more focused on his phone, his messages with you opened as he scrolled through all the messages he sent. He felt horrible for the argument the both of you had the night before, and when you practically ignored him this morning only had him feeling worse.

He looked up as the bell above the door rang. He was starting his usual monotone welcoming when he saw it was you who walked through the door. He paused his movements, only snapping out of it when the cigarette burnt his fingertips.

“Baby? Hi! I’m happy you’re here.”

“I couldn’t exactly ignore you’re last message.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Yeah, sorry. I know I’ve been blowing up your phone. I was a real jerk yesterday, I’m sorry.”

You gave him a soft smile, “Yeah, you kind of were. I came down here because you seemed worried. I just wanted to tell you I’m not as mad as I was yesterday. We still have a lot to talk about when you get home, but I didn’t want you to sit here and at the school worrying.”

Keishin walked around the counter, taking your hands in his, “You tell me whatever you need to fully forgive me. I love you, you know that, don’t know?”

You nodded, “I do, and I love you too. We’re okay, I promise.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for coming down here, I feel a lot better. I’ll be home as soon as I can, and like I said, whatever you need.”

You chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ll hold you too that.”

Keishin smiled as you kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand before you left.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

Bokuto leaned against the doorframe, eyeing up your figure as you sipped on your drink. He frowned seeing as you were still upset with him. With a soft grunt, he pushed himself up and made his way over to you.

You wanted so badly to turn around and hug him, tell him how much you love and had missed him. There was a small part of you that was still mad, and it held you back from doing what you wanted to do most. Bokuto debated touching you, before ultimately deciding to wrap his strong arms around you.

“I tried to call, sent you a few messages. I should’ve expected you to ignore me, especially after what I said. I’m really sorry, baby.”

His head gently rested against your shoulder, hair tickling your skin. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek as he held you a tiny bit tighter.

“Please, tell me how to make this right. I’ll do anything.”

You turned around, arms wrapping around his middle. You let out a small, shaky sigh. Bokuto tightened his hold on you, rubbing your back.

“I’m so sorry, Ko. I shouldn’t have blown it out of proportion.”

Bokuto kissed your head, “You have nothing to apologize for. It was my fault, but I meant what I said. Any way to make it up to you, please, tell me.”

You sniffled, “You being here is enough, although some cuddles wouldn’t hurt.”

Bokuto chuckled, blinking away a few tears, “Whatever you want baby, I’ll do it.”

Atsumu walked back in to a quiet house. Most of the lights were off and you were nowhere to be found. Feeling slightly panicked, he went up to your shared bedroom to find you in the large bed. His eyes watered when he saw you, laying under a few layers of covers, eyes puffy from crying.

“Baby?”

When he received no answer, Atsumu knew you were still upset with him. He frowned, climbing under the covers and wrapping you in his arms. When you didn’t shift farther from him he took it as a good sign to continue. He pressed his face into your shoulder, nuzzling his face against you.

“Still mad at me?”

“Mhm.”

Atsumu leaned up, pressing open mouth kisses along your cheek, “You know I love you, don’t you? Hell, I never meant to hurt you the way I did.”

When you remained silent, Atsumu rolled you onto your back. He wiped your stray tears away, a frown etching it’s way onto his lips.

“I’m sorry I was such an ass. I don’t want you to be upset with me. Tell me how to make it up to you, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You huffed, “Damn it, stop being cute when I’m trying to be mad at you.”

Atsumu smiled, “Guess I’ll have to sit here and be cute if it’s gonna help you forgiving me.”

He was surprised when you pulled him down, your fingers running through his messy hair.

“I can’t stay mad at you forever. You may be annoying, but that’s not gonna change me loving you.”

Atsumu’s bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, “You’re going to make me cry, knock it off.”

You just laughed, already forgiving him as you kissed him.

Osamu walked in after a long day of work. He sighed, slipping off his shoes and jacket before making his way into the house. He placed some food in the fridge before going up to your shared bedroom.

“Baby? I’m home.”

He was surprised to see the lights off, surprised to see you weren’t even on your phone. He got ready for bed, climbing in behind you. His arm circled your waist, head pressed to your shoulder.

“I know you’re awake, saw you peaking. You know we have that thing where we don’t go to bed mad. You don’t have to talk, but I’d appreciate it if you listen.”

When you said nothing, he continued, lips brushing against your ear.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you this morning. I’ve been so stressed at work lately and I took it out on you. It’s not fair, and I know that. I can’t express how sorry I am, but please, believe that I am. Please, turn over so I can apologize properly.”

He only had to wait a moment for you to turn on your side, noses barely touching from how close he was. Osamu placed a hand on your cheek, thumb wiping your tears away.

“I don’t want you crying because of me anymore. You’re my partner, I shouldn’t be making you cry.”

You shook your head as best you could, holding with shaky hands, “I’m not crying because I’m upset. You’re just so sweet, Osamu. Honestly I’m not even that mad anymore, and I wasn’t expecting such an apology.”

Osamu smiled, “I’m not as asshole you know. But I also brought food home from work in case my apology didn’t work.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, holding onto his hand, “I’ll take it as an added bonus.”

Osamu chuckled, “Still love me?”

You nodded, kissing him softly, “Always.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! imagine #keishin ukai #keishin ukai x reader #Keishin ukai imagine #Kotaro Bokuto #Kotaro bokuto x reader #Kotaro bokuto imagine #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #Atsumu Miya imagine #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya imagine

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #kol mikaelson smut #smut

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chas111291 · 3 years

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She was my best friend, my hero, my mom.

SATURDAY JULY 24th exactly two weeks ago from today. I wake up to a hot southern sunny day like any other day I call my mother like every morning to tell her I'm stopping by before arriving to work later that evening she tells me okay and that she loved me she was going to lay down for a short nap I'm sitting with my wife while lacing my boots my for work getting ready to head out I get a phone call from my aunt (moms sister) she's frantic screams yours moms not breathing my heart took a nose dive straight to the pit of my stomach I scream to call 911 and don’t stop CPR boots still half way laced me and wife hop in our she only lives bout 3 mins up the road from me so I high tail over there the ambulance was pulling her out while continuing cpr they say headed to the hospital follow us and side note the cop that pulled me off to the side to mention “its a good sign they are taking her to the hospital” I mean sure he meant well but fuck false hope right now I got to get to my mom. So me the wife and my aunt arrive at the hospital in record time we mask up rush in and get the info from them we are told to wait outside we comply. No more than two minutes later a lady comes out no in uniform just a hospital staff badge I knew it wasn’t long she was back there for them to have news already I knew the news was going to be bad. I grabbed my aunt's hand and ushered our way thru the doors. I tell her to say it just say it tell me to my surprise the lady started tearing up before I could react the doctors now come out to tell me Hes sorry for my lose and that they did everything they could in the tiny what 5 mins they had her whatever sure thank you anyways he confirms and what seems like a bad dream everything's falling away from me all around I lose all feeling in my legs brace my back against the cold hospital wall and slowly collapse. My wife lets out a noise of heartbreak and my aunt is I think in shock? They tell me to come tell her goodbye or do our last goodbye whatever I couldn’t physically walk into the room the confusion the questions the agony why is this happening I was coming to see u mom what happen? I went into the room I found the strength somewhere God only knows I sit there with her with my back turned I couldn’t bare to look at her my heart was completely broken. People say heartbreak sometimes hurts physically and I never could relate but they day I understood I got it that day it hurt like hell. Meanwhile my aunt gets a phone call. I'm the youngest (29) out of moms two girls my sister (34) calls and the worse time possible on speaker I head the operator say the usual automated voice recording “ you have a collect call from an inmate at the correctionally blah blah blah my siters been in prison for the past few years old fines recovering addict she's turned her life around me and mom were so proud of all she has accomplished and the changes she had made thus far release date was august 16th so close, eh? It angered me to my soul my mom had been looking forward to that day for a while she was so close I just was anger I was anger at god I was anger at the doctors I was anger at the world anyways my aunt tells her what's happening and she falls silent for what seem like forever and replied with you're lying and messing me stop don’t I cried for her I knew it was going to break my sister she had always feared something would happen while she was away putting her past behind her I just never really thought it would happen anyways she talks to my aunt my wife comes to my side tells me to kiss my mom bye and tell her that I loved her I sit there staring into what seem like nothing then I thought back to just a day ago me and mom had a conversation on her front porch swing and every time I was stressed or just needing advice my mom would reassure me I was okay the best advice I could ever receive and she ended that convo that day like always a hug and I saying she always said to me “you got this” with a smile so back to the hospital room I stood up gave my wife a half grin put my shoulders back and stood tall kissed my mom's forehead and whisper near her “i got this” and left. That was the worse day of my life I lost my dad back in 2015 I took it pretty hard but this felt different my mom taught me everything I know how to brush my hair how to tuck my baby dolls in as a child I felt emptiness and confusion. She was just fine I never would have thought I would've been there that day going thru the suddenness of everything happening. Honestly the death of my mom and how sudden it was without no warning no nothing has been the hardest part for me emotionally and mental. My dad always taught his two girls work hard for what you got and appreciate it especially the small things don’t take shit from no one and make a good life for self. I work a trucking job my wife works for a nonprofit animal clinic for helping animals. We’ve moved back to my hometown state Mississippi from her home state California talk about a culture shock for her moving here btw lol she's amazing shout out to Tumblr btw for giving us that chance of our paths meeting and finding a love in one another. Okay back to the story I've always worked hard it hasn’t been easy it hasn't been good day after good I've seen some real bad days and vice versa I've never used a GoFundMe hell I didn’t even really know what it was until my wife explained it to me. I live pay check to pay check but I got everything I could ever ask for and a lovely home to come home to. I was just completely blown away when the funeral home gave me a final price I cried and I cried some more I didn't know what I was going to do my sister wasn’t exactly in a big way to help until the 16th when she was released. So I'm taking my time out of today to tell the story of the worst day of my life my best friend my mother my hero and the day I lost her forever. If you still have your parents believe let them hug you even longer than they already, do I'm lost and I'm asking for just the smallest donation of whatever anything will help at the point and I'm already up about $800 out of $4000 for the total cost of putting my mother to rest she wanted to cremated so on the day my sisters get out Aug. 16th is the day I have arranged for her funeral and all services that I got the quote for because I'll be damned, I was letting her miss that. Thank you. I will link my GoFundMe and even if I don’t get anything thank you for taking the time to read and allowing me to open up and talk about it. God knows it's going to be a long hard journey, but hey I GOT THIS.

.https://gofund.me/3f0a19e5 <--- link for donations. thank you.

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unioncolours · 3 years

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A 2nd Majsasaurus Year!

Today, 22nd of September 2021, it’s been two years since I officially joined the magical world of fandom. 22.9.2019 I uploaded the first chapter to my fic Shadows and Sand, and the rest is history.

I did a deep dive into my first year as a fic writer and active member of fandom last year, when it was my first anniversary. You can read it here!

In that meta discussion about my membership of fandom, I presented it as if walking on clouds. I was so, so happy and talked during all the discussion about my happiness in fandom.

Since that post was written, my life and also my perception of the fandom I am part of has changed. Change isn’t always bad, as I really had a honeymoon phase with fandom over a year ago, and the low after hit hard.

But let’s see what I’ve been up to and what I’ve been writing! The following year provided much change and fun things! Please keep reading 💜⬇

The first fic I wrote since 22.9.2020 was a Sakura x Ino fic. I had for a longer while been interested in writing a woman-loves-woman ship, which I had never done before, and as a wlw-person myself the urge to explore that part led to Promise me this is just a kiss. The pairing itself was chosen on rather random, it had to be two women and I like Ino, so I chose the most popular Ino-wlw ship for this for convenience.

I really liked writing the fic and it was well-received! It was the first time I had written a fic that was entirely centred around exploring feelings and having sex.

After this I jumped directly onto the next idea that had been boiling inside me for a longer while. Up to this point, all I had written, except the wlw-fic, had been set in the Naruto canonverse and I was itching to try to work with a multi-chaptered modern au! The pairing was of course my beloved Shikadai x Inojin.

It was during the creation of this fic I began to struggle. This was a new genre, as this was romance only and all my other works had been action and fantasy based, except the sex fic of course. I was maybe over critical and stressed, which resulted in me having a hard time writing it. But I made it. Was the sky always this beautiful? ended up being 35k long, and in hindsight, I freaking love, love, love how it turned out in the end and what it represented. I am very proud of this fic.

I “upgraded” as a fan by the end of October when I bought myself a digital drawing tablet. I began drawing fanart of Shikadai and Inojin and preferably them two together, haha! I still draw a few days a month and find it extremely fun as a side hobby beside the writing.

We are now in November 2020. By this time, I had completely finished my zine fic, Under the Scorching Sun, which I had written during September and October, for the Shikatema zine I was kindly accepted to. I was proud of what I had created and was eager for the rest of the contributors to wrap up theirs, so we’d have a wonderful zine for sale in 2021. It was lovely to write ShikaTema again. As the zine fic was about to be released in months from when I had at first finished it, I wanted of course to write something fans and friends could immediately take part of on the internet. I had hyped myself up to a state where I wanted to write a third and final story in my series To love and never let go, my epic series about Shikadai and Inojin.

Now, I should maybe have waited another month, but I was worried the readers would give up on me if I didn’t write it right away. In December, I began writing To find hope in the Universe, with my usual speed and love for the art.

What I by then didn’t realise or even recognise was that I was very slowly turning burned out. I ignored all the signs.

In December I wrote simultaneously as Hope in the Universe a fic that was part of the Shikatema server’s Secret Santa event. The fic’s name was The Ghost Stories of our Hearts, and it was ShikaTema, as the event’s name suggests. It was fun to write and despite the final big fic, Hope in the Universe, pressing down on me, I finished The Ghost Stories of our Hearts and was very happy with the result. Sadly, at this point the burnout began taking control over me, and I never managed to reply to the comments.

The 15th of January, I began uploading To find hope in the Universe. It was a lovely experience, even if it was tainted by negative feelings coming from my decreasing happiness and the fact that it didn’t do as well as To dance above the Stars, the second fic in the series. To deal with two very contradiction emotions, loving my work, the characters, how I have painted an entire world around the characters and how I knew some people honestly loved my hard work, and then the negative feelings coming from not feeling good enough and depressed, was a difficult thing to navigate and still is when I think back to that time. It didn’t help that during the process of uploading the fic I went through grief, and I chose distraction as my coping method. I kept writing and working, the only thing I ever knew.

Our pre-order of the Shikatema zine was in full motion by this time and it was a nerve-wracking time! Mostly because of excitement but also worry. I’m super happy for my friends who were part of the zine, with whom I could share all the excitement and nervousness with. The zine ended up making good sales, which made me happy among the uploading of the long fic.

To find hope in the Universe was completed 31st of March 2021. When I uploaded the final chapter, I felt nothing. It was so weird, so spooky, to have finished a long fic and a series on top of that and not feel anything. But deep down, beneath the layer of depression, I felt great pride.

That was the emotion that broke free once the burnout left me. Pride.

I had created this empire of Shikajin, a whole alternative timeline, an alternative canon from my own head and to this day, that is my internet legacy. I love Trial of the Heart, which I wrote in 2020, but if I have to choose between ToH and this series, I will choose To love and never let go in a heartbeat.

So, even if it felt depressing and hopeless in the moment, I look now back with pride and happiness. Never forget that. Never forget that I made that.

April was a curious time. I swore to not write anything, because I had by now recognised that I was burned out and needed to rest, yet managed to scrape together three smaller fics.

The first one was another wlw-smut fic, TemaSaku this time called Another Light. I wanted to explore that part once again. I wrote it in canonverse and honestly think the fic ended up extremely nice. Perfect amount of feels and sex. It didn’t feel hard to write at all, because the setting, characters and emotions were so different from the fics I had written the last five months.

Now more interesting things lay on the horizon! A new zine, the Ino-Shika-Cho zine called Beyond a Bond had an interest check during the spring, and later the contributor application. I urged in the interest check to please give us the next gen kids, Shikadai, Inojin and Chocho – my kids and babies, and when it turned out they were going to feature, I had to apply as a writer. For this application I wrote a one shot, called It’s just hair, and I loved this spunky little story featuring the best babies that I created.

I also edited one of my tumblr fics, And then I kissed him, into a longer, better version that I later in May uploaded onto AO3. It was once again a Shikajin, a sequel of Trial of the Heart, and it was a fun little project.

Now May came and I sent in the application for the zine early, which I now am relieved I did. I am happy that I did the work for the application in April instead of May, because in May I had a few breakdowns and another grieving period, which lead to complete creative paralysis. I didn’t write a single word during May, only uploaded the two one shots I had prepared in April.

What I did do in May was to read through the Shikatema zine I had contributed to! It arrived in the mail! I was so nervous; my whole body was shaking when I opened the package right outside the post office. The zine now resides on the parade place in my little zine shrine in the bookshelf. Thank you to the mods who made this a reality!

To my great happiness my zine adventures continued as I was accepted to the Ino-Shika-Cho zine as a writer and was assigned to write my favourite characters. I felt so relieved and overjoyed, mind blown by the sheer talent among the contributors.

On the other fandom front, June didn’t continue any brighter, with stress and mental pain still having a strong grip around me, despite the very happy news that I am still so grateful for. I wrote a Yamanaka family fic which to this day hasn’t seen the light of AO3, because of negative emotions surrounding it. I turned into a complete wreck compared to me in June 2020. In June 2020 I was flourishing, I loved what I did, I loved fandom and I loved the friends I had made through Discord servers. Now I could find myself crying my eyes out over a wip not going the way I wished it would. What had happened to Bex 2021?

I was so incredibly frustrated with myself, groaning in defeat when my hands just couldn’t write. I managed to push through 6k of what I called my “emo au” – more of that later – and finish the Yamanaka fic which is still buried, and on top of that I had the zine and another fandom event, The Naruto Photo Album, to create content for. Why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I find happiness in something that once was my reason for happiness?

In the end, I managed to write 15k in June. My former monthly word count used to be 30k. One could think this would turn into the end of my fic writing career, or the beginning of a longer hiatus, but I am stubborn and want to meet the expectations of the people who love my content, so I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to try. I wanted to be whoever I was before.

Funnily enough, the healing came in the shape of the most self-indulgent fic I have ever, ever written, a fic I like possessed began writing July the 1st 2021. It was nothing less than a freaking fairy tale AU, namely a Shikadai x Inojin Peter Pan AU. I can hear you laugh at the silliness of it, but this whimsical AU gave me back my love for writing. I hyper-fixated on this story quite a bit and stopped writing on everything else, something I almost never do.

Only happy boys fly ended up being 21 000 words long! I knew it was a niched story, and true to my guesses, the story has to this day very low stats. Today, two months after it was published, it has just above 100 hits and 10 kudos, so for all I know, only ten people read and liked it. I try to not care too much, since I love the story and in some way, that story saved me from going batshit insane over my emotions about writing.

At this point I had begun writing my fic from the Ino-Shika-Cho zine, finding joy in silly scenes with my favourite characters and trying to heal. The writing process was frustratingly slow, but one word at a time I got forward and as of today, the draft is done. The pre-orders are in December. At the side of the zine fic I wrote a short fluffy Shikajin story, CLEAR, a story with almost no plot, because I knew how much self-indulgence could help me.

And then, I finally began writing for real on my emo au, A gang of fallen stars, which has the first few chapters up right now! I have for the first time in six months a longer fic (if we don’t count the Peter Pan story) and it feels… good. This fic is once again a modern au, but in darker tones than my other modern au from November 2020. I honestly like what I have so far, even if I during June and July almost planned to never finish it. I am so relieved I managed to begin the upload. In September the Photo Album was released and I could show my two fics I wrote for it.

It sounds like this year has been nothing but misery, and at times it felt like it. However, there are a few fandom friends who brought light to my life when I couldn’t see it. The first ones to mention are of course my partners in crime, @notquitejiraiya and @thespookymoth. Together we created a server dedicated to Ino-Shika-Cho during the spring and it has been tons of fun with the members there! Thank you two for listening to me and for being my friends during 2021.

I also have to mention Soverel, who carefully begun taking contact through comments and likes on my twitter, and later through direct messages, and it has been a fun ride ever since. We’ve had lovely discussions which are very dear to me and your support means a lot to me. Thank you for being you and for drawing so many wonderful artworks you’ve shared with me. Haha, and for making me play Genshin Impact, even though I do it like twice a month!

Another person who has made my days so much brighter is @sugarriene. Thank you for sending me that one dm that made us chat regularly, thank you for popping up and sharing panels and your wonderful drawings with me, and for vibing head canons with me. You are a lovely person, and you make me happy.

Finally, I want to give a shout out to @yoboseyokyu for listening to me when I had to yell into the void and for making me happy with your cute posts on both twitter and tumblr.

Since September 2020, I’ve written around 195 000 words and drawn close to 35 illustrations, most of them of Shikadai and Inojin. Almost 200 000 words of Majsasaurus. I’ve created a Discord server and I’ve been part of two zines as a writer, plus a free PDF-project.

It has been a wild year. A year filled with passion for my favourite characters and ship, with the excitement that came with being part of projects and hyping them. It was a year where I learned to draw digitally, and heck what fun it was.

This also a year where I learned people can be mean to me because of what I ship and that fandom friends won’t necessarily always stay to be your friend anymore and how much it can hurt. I also learned what my limits are, and what punishment I get if I don’t listen to my own mind and rest when I have to.

It was a year, guys.

Now, onto the third Majsasaurus Year. Cheers!

And those of you, who supported me when I needed it – thank you and I love you.

#majsasaurus

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Secret Love Part 5 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I was supposed to post this yesterday, but it was not a good day for me mentally and I just didn’t really get online. So it’s a day late but I think this is a chapter that will have you all freaking out so I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: cursing, PG-13 sexual activities.

Word Count: 1,911

~~~~

Waking up wrapped in Cale’s arms was a shock to your system but one that made you feel warm and safe. The competing mindsets made you gasp, and for a moment you feared you’d woken Cale. Instead, he just tightened his grip on your body, forcing you to snuggle even further into his mostly naked figure.

As you laid in his arms, your body became attuned to the feeling of his breath on your neck, the way the muscles in his arms twitched, and the solid length of him pressed against you in more ways than one. Heat flooded your core at the feeling of his dick pressed against your ass and you cursed yourself, carefully trying to extricate yourself from his arms.

Tiptoeing out of his room, you grabbed a pair of leggings from your bag along with a sweater and clean undergarments. Though you debated just changing, you did need to shower so you snuck back through Cale’s room into the bathroom, praying that the sound of the water didn’t disturb him.

With the heated spray working to alleviate the aches from dancing last night, you rubbed your temples trying to figure out what the hell had happened last night. Okay so you knew what had happened, you weren’t drunk, but you couldn’t figure out why it had happened. Were things actually different between you and Cale or were you just imagining it? He’d just been screwed over hard by his girlfriend of almost three years and you were someone he knew he could trust. That had to explain the increased affection right?

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Cale popped his head in to ask if you were almost done and you called back that you just needed another minute or two. Rushing through the rest of your shower, you quickly dried off and got dressed before slipping out of the bathroom.

“It’s all yours!” You called to Cale as you retreated to the couch. You prayed that you had some plans for the day because otherwise you might actually drive yourself crazy.

Thankfully Laura and Gary came through, and for the next two days you ran around Denver, all of the sights and sounds providing the exact distraction that you needed. By the end of the day you were exhausted and you quickly passed out on the couch with only minimal conversation with Cale.

On your final day in Denver, Cale played an afternoon game, an upsetting loss in overtime. Gary and Laura wanted to go to a brewery after the game, but that really wasn’t your thing so Cale suggested you just have a relaxing night watching tv in his apartment instead. He’d ordered takeout, and the two of you had sprawled across his couch with reruns of some sitcom playing in the background.

After dinner he’d suggested opening a bottle of wine and snuggled beside him under his new blanket, one glass became two and two became three. Soon the two of you were working on finishing off your second bottle and you’d reached the point where every nerve ending in your body was humming.

“You know...we haven’t spent this much time together since...well honestly I can’t remember when…” Cale murmured against your head. “It’s been really nice.” He added.

“Yeah you’re not so bad to hang out with.” You teased, pressing the side of your face into his shoulder. It still amazed you sometimes that while you were four and a half years older, he was just so much bigger than you in every way. It made you feel safe and with the wine swirling around your brain it made you wonder what it would be like to have him on top of you, pressing you into the mattress.

You didn’t have to wait long to sort of find out, with your mind off on a tangent you missed Cale trying to get your attention until his fingers were digging into your sides, tickling you as a shrill squeal left your throat. Somehow he’d ended up hovering over you on the couch as you squirmed away from him and the way his blue eyes stared down at you made you freeze. What felt like cracks of electricity passed between you, until finally Cale let out a long sigh and climbed off of you, tucking you back into his side.

Though nothing had happened, it felt like everything between the two of you had shifted.

“Am I crazy?” Cale mumbled eventually.

“I mean you do play a sport where you’re getting hit by 200 pound guys into boards every few nights…” You cheekily replied, trying to cover the way your heart was pounding by making light of his words.

“Y/N…” Cale grumbled, his fingers coming up to run through his hair. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He sighed. “Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me that you feel this too.” Swallowing hard, you ran your fingers through your hair as well.

“You’re not crazy.” You spoke, your tone hushed. As he shifted to look at you, you dropped your gaze to your lap. Quickly, his fingers moved to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was hopeful but his eyes gave way to the fear and confusion you were also feeling.

“There’s a spark.” He sounded so sure of himself with that statement that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. “I’ve never felt that with anyone else.” His fingers trailed from your jaw to tangle in your hair, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “How have I never noticed this before...you before?” You didn’t have an answer to that, instead, you just shivered at the way he was touching you, like you were the most precious thing on the planet.

“Come ‘ere.” His request was merely a formality because he was already pulling you into his lap as he spoke it. With your hips now straddling his, you watched as his fingers traced patterns down your arms before he laced his fingers with yours. “Is this okay?” He asked after a moment, genuine concern for your comfort dripping from his words.

“Yes.” You agreed as your pulse slammed through your veins even harder than before.

“Shit.” Cale groaned after a moment, the sound of it sending heat to your core. “I always thought this was just some silly cliche teenage crush.” Your eyes went wide at his words and your body tensed slightly, though Cale picked up on both immediately. “You know, falling for your best friend who is too old and too beautiful to ever want anything to do with a kid. Not that you’re too old now...but a few years ago…” You nodded because you knew what he was trying to say. When he was 15, you were by all societal standards too old for him to even consider there being something there; but now...21 (almost 22) and 26 was a different ball game.

“For years I wished it was just a teenage crush…” You breathed.

“You….?” Cale didn’t need to verbalize the question for you to understand what he was asking and letting down your guard fully you nodded.

“I got really good at pretending.” You admitted. For a moment Cale’s eyes grazed over your lips as his hands moved to tug your hips against his. Then his eyes met yours, and seeing no sign of rejection, he tangled a hand in your hair before pulling your mouth onto his.

As you kissed him back, you slid your own hand around his neck, securing his body to your own. He tasted like the wine you’d been drinking all night and suddenly you just felt warm from head to toe. The kiss started gently but deepened until you were both left breathing heavily upon parting.

“Shit...can we do that again?” He mumbled, the look in his eyes sending another chill through your body in excitement. Kissing him again, you took the time to explore all of the feelings that just kissing him created. His hands ran up and down your back while yours locked onto his shoulders. Every so often, your hips would rock against his and he’d moan, ratcheting the kiss up another level. It wasn’t long before you felt him grow hard between your bodies and though you didn’t want to, you forced yourself to pull away.

“Killing me…” Cale grumbled, his head thrown against the back of the couch as he stared at you with blown pupils and swollen lips.

“You’ve been killing me all week with those wandering hands of yours.” You replied. “Not to mention dragging me to bed with you almost nude the other night.” Cale’s eyes went wide and you realized that he didn’t remember that at all. “What’s the last thing you remember at the bar the other night?” You asked, giggling softly.

“I remember watching Gravy walk over to you at the bar…” He mentioned, the flush on his cheeks growing rosier again.

“So you don’t remember dancing with me? The question you asked me?” Cale shook his head and you felt your own cheeks heat up.

“What did I say?” He sighed, fingers running back through his hair.

“You uh...you asked me if women like receiving oral because Sara never let you try…” You felt Cale’s groan through your entire body, the sound of it only serving to turn you on. “And then once I got you home, I sent you to get ready for bed while I got you water and pain meds and next thing I know you’re pulling me into bed with you and you wouldn’t let me go.” Cale’s head hit your shoulder as he mumbled out an apology.

“It was a little awkward but it’s okay.” You assured him, nails scraping over the back of his neck. “It was more awkward waking up to your morning wood.” You teased, giggling until suddenly you were flat on your back once more, Cale’s length still pressing against you.

“You mean this?” He growled softly, his hips rocking against yours. You gasped at the feeling and at how forward Cale was being. You didn’t know this side of him but you were quickly growing to like it. “This is all because of you. All you have to do is bite your lip or scrape your nails against the back of my neck and just like that I’m hard as a rock.” Cale’s lips dropped to press light kisses against your neck. “Fuck.” He breathed, clearly trying to settle his own body. “It’s never been this easy.” Pocketing that statement in the back of your mind for a later conversation, you eased his mouth back to yours, kissing him gently.

“Our timing kinda sucks you know…” You sighed, your thumbs brushing over his red cheeks.

“I know…” He agreed, climbing off of you.

“Can we just...I just...kiss me and we can worry about everything else later?” You pleaded. Cale’s mouth slanted over yours in compliance and you stayed that way, sharing lazy kisses, until long after the sun had set. As you dozed against him, Cale carried you to his bed, wrapping you in his arms. There wasn’t enough time to explore everything he wanted to with you, but he was going to make the most of what time you did have, whispered promises of summer spilling from his lips.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #cavalanche #038

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kinglazrus · 4 years

Text

Therefore I am

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @kili-kai-wox (kilikani on ffn): Danny is surprised when he receives an A+. I wonder what subject it could be from?

Summary: There are two things Danny never expected to get out of his philosophy class: an A+ and to be confronted about his never-ending existential crisis

Warnings: discussion of/thoughts about death and the meaning of death.

Word count: 2971

Today is a grim day for Danny Fenton. It just might be the end of him. He's backed into a corner, enemies approached from all sides. His allies have abandoned him. Friends, family, all gone. He's on his own out here and it doesn't look like he's going to make it. Rations are getting low.

Jazz slaps her hand against her forehead and groans. "Don't be so dramatic!"

Danny, pinned against the lockers by his friends and sisters, howls in outrage. "I'm almost out of gummy bears!" He shoves the near empty plastic bag in Jazz's face, shaking it furiously. "And look! It's mostly just the white ones! I might as well starve."

"Ooh, I love the white ones!" Tucker snatches the bag out of Danny's hand. Fishing a few gummies out, he pops them into his mouth and chews, a blissful smile on his lips.

Danny moans. "My rations."

Sam rolls her eyes.

Danny was on his way to the cafeteria for lunch when they cornered him. They came out of nowhere, surging out from the crowd of shuffling students, surrounding him before he could realize what was happening.

With Jazz in front of him, Sam to his left, and Tucker to his right, they block off all routes of escape. Except the ghostly ones, but too many students are milling about for him to safely use his powers.

Danny doesn't like the look in their eyes. Sam's eager glint, Tucker's grin, Jazz's stern frown. They all set him on edge.

"Can I just please go to lunch?" he begs. Thanks to Skulker, Danny didn't have time to eat breakfast this morning, except a handful of cereal. The only thing he wants right now is to go get some food, even if it's the crappy cardboard pizza they serve in the cafeteria. He needs sustenance damn it!

Tucker stealing his gummy bears is the deepest betrayal he could get right now.

"No," Jazz and Sam say at the same time.

Tucker stealing his gummy bears is the second deepest betrayal.

"Come on, man," Tucker says around a mouthful of gummies. "Just spill it."

"It wasn't my fault," Danny whines, wilting against the lockers. Jazz's frown deepens, turning from disappointment into a full-blown pout. Left with no other choice, Danny relents. "Fine! But I'm telling you, he was asking for it."

He's about to expose his plans but stops when he catches their confused faces. "What?" he asks.

"Lancer was asking for it?" Sam asks. She leans against the lockers next to Danny, eyebrow raised.

"Lancer?"

"Yeah. Mikey told us what happened in philosophy class. And we told Jazz," Tucker says. "What do you think we're talking about?"

Danny thinks about his parents' new ecto grenade—completely harmless to humans, of course—rigged up in Dash's locker, ready to explode as soon as someone opens the door. "It's not important right now. Philosophy? I got an A, yeah. Awesome, right?"

"And you didn't tell me!" Jazz says, offended.

Oh, Danny thinks. That's why she looked disappointed. He doesn't know how he was supposed to tell her, though, because this is the first time he's seen her all morning.

"Dude, you didn't just get an A," Tucker says.

"Okay, A+."

"Dude."

Sam, exasperated, grabs Danny's shoulders and forcibly turns him toward her. "Mikey told us how Lancer stood up at the front of the class and said your paper was the best he'd ever read in that class."

"Oh." Danny's cheeks burn and he ducks his head. "Yeah. That."

When he turned the paper in last week, he honestly thought he would fail the assignment. The night before it was due, Cujo managed to dig his way out of the Ghost Zone again and immediately wanted to play. Danny was happy to oblige since, for once, he had all his homework done on time and there were no ghosts to take care of that night. The real trouble came when he had to go downstairs for dinner, leaving Cujo in his room with a stern reminder not to leave it.

Miraculously, Cujo obeyed the command. But that meant there was a bored, excitable puppy in Danny's room, alone, for almost an hour, with nothing to play with. His room hadn't been neat when he left it, but it was trashed by the time he came back. His backpack was particularly mangled, and his essay ripped to shreds.

Danny hadn't thought Lancer would accept "a ghost dog ate my homework," as an excuse for not having the assignment done. But he no longer had the library books he used to write the damn thing in the first place. Which meant he had to replace his typed, carefully referenced, well-thought out essay with a rushed, handwritten mess that consisted only of Danny's personal thoughts.

Suffice to say, he wasn't too confident in the new essay. The last thing he expected was to get a passing grade for it, much less actual praise. Danny doesn't get praise, not outside hero work, at least. He gets lots of sighs and disappointed looks. Maybe a stern, "This is proof you can do better," when he pulls a grade higher than a D. But not praise. Never praise.

"It was... something," Danny says. He doesn't usually get embarrassed by attention, although that doesn't necessarily mean he likes it either. But getting called out by Lancer in front of the whole class was an entirely new experience.

Before Lancer started handing out the papers, he had stood at the front of the class and waved the stack in the air.

"I have to say, I'm very impressed by the work some of you did. Very thoughtful," he started. "But there is one paper in particular that I would like to bring up."

Lancer shuffled through the stack, shifting everything around until a bundle of loose leaf ripped from a notebook sat on top. The pages were stapled poorly, and the handwriting was borderline illegible. Danny knew instantly it was his and expected the worst.

"This paper was, perhaps, the most insightful essay I've ever read in all my time teaching this class," Lancer said. He beamed in Danny's direction. "It was speculative, introspective, and intuitive. Written purely from the student's own thoughts on life and death. This is what philosophy is about, and I hope I can see similar work from the rest of you in the future."

Danny sank into his seat as Lancer walked down the aisle, heading right for him, and held his paper out.

"Thanks," Danny muttered, taking his assignment. He couldn't bear to lift his gaze and meet the burning stares of his peers. The worst part, though was when Lancer asked to see Danny at the end of the day.

"Are you gonna go?" Tucker asks.

"I don't know." Danny's grip on his backpack tightens as he thinks about the paper stuffed inside. "I'm not in trouble or anything, and it didn't really sound like I have to go."

"I think you should." Jazz reaches out and ruffles Danny's hair, smiling proudly at him. "You did good, little brother. You're smart, and Lancer knows that. Whatever he wants to talk to about, I'm sure it's good."

Danny grumbles, shoving Jazz's hand away and fixing his hair. He doesn't make it neat, but he messes it up the way he likes it to be messed up. There's a difference.

"I guess. As long as no ghosts interrupt, I'll go," Danny says. Jazz is right—she usually is, much to his chagrin. Whatever Lancer wants, after what he said about Danny's paper, it has to be good. But he still hopes the Box Ghost shows up so that Danny doesn’t have to go.

"Can I have my gummy bears back?" Danny asks, turning to Tucker.

Tucker, cheeks puffed with gummies, looks down at the empty bag. He slowly shakes his head. "I don't think you want them back."

—

Danny hesitates outside Lancer's door. The final bell rang five minutes ago, and most students have already fled the school grounds. The football team is still here, somewhere, because they have practice in half an hour. Everyone else is out front waiting for their buses. Jazz left in the initial crowd. Sam and Tucker offered to hang around and wait for him, but Danny waved them off and told them to go ahead. They have better things to do.

It crosses Danny's mind that he can lie to them. If he skips out and only tells them he talked to Lancer, they will probably accept it and leave it at that. Jazz might probe him a little about it, but if he acts annoyed about it, she'll stop. But he's being ridiculous. There's no real reason why he can't walk through this door right now and get this over with. Jazz is right. It's probably a good thing. But something about it sets Danny on edge.

Sighing heavily, he reaches out and knocks on Lancer's door, standing on his toes to peek through the window.

Lancer, sitting at his desk, grading a pile of new assignments, looks up. He sees Danny and smiles, waving him inside.

Danny pauses for a second, then turns the handle and steps into the room.

"Please, Mr. Fenton, close the door and take a seat," Lancer says.

Danny does as told, closing the door a little too hard, and shuffles over to the desk closest to Lancer's. Swinging his backpack off his shoulder, he sets it down on the floor beside him and slides into the chair.

While Lancer makes a few more notes on the paper in front of him, Danny scans the classroom. Sometimes it feels like he spends half his day in this room. Lancer teaches a surprising number of courses. Danny's almost impressed by the range. Little hints of each course are scattered throughout the room. A poster about calculating surface area by the window, a cartoonish timeline of US history along the top of the wall, aperiodic table taking up most of the back wall.

For philosophy, there's a collage of famous philosophers taped to the front of Lancer's desk. Danny thinks a former student made it, because it's just some images cut out and glued onto a stiff piece of poster board.

Danny stares at each face in the collage, trying to recognize them. Friedrich Nietzsche is the only one he can identify by name. The only reason Danny remembers him in the first place is his wild mustache. Hard to forget something like that.

"Mr. Fenton."

Danny's head snaps up, gaze jumping to Lancer.

"I'd like to congratulate you again for writing such a wonderful paper" Lancer says. "But I had a few questions."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Are you okay, Mr. Fenton?"

Danny blinks. "I– what?"

"In your paper, you spoke a lot about death, dying, and our perceptions of life now that we know there is some form of afterlife. Some of your points were rather... personal."

Danny thinks back over his paper. The moment he realized he had to make the whole thing up, he decided to talk about the one philosophical debate he was personally invested in: the significance of life after death. He mentioned his parents' views on the matter, that ghosts are mindless monsters, but mostly spoke about his own and what questions he had about it. Thanks to his personal experience with dying, he had a lot to talk about.

Lancer reaches for an open notebook sitting on his desk. Lifting it up, he scans the page for a moment, then reads, "'Some people falsely believe ghosts are not, and never were, human, but are instead creatures from another dimension connected to our own. While some ghosts definitely aren't human, I have met countless that were. They remember living and dying, and there is evidence of their human lives left behind. What does this mean for people who are still living? If we can die and nothing changes for us, does dying matter at all?'"

Danny immediately recognizes his own words. Lancer must have written down what Danny said in his essay. It makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t want his thoughts lying around where anyone can read them. He especially doesn't want Lancer to pick and choose them at random for whatever this conversation is.

"That doesn't really sound personal," Danny mutters.

"No, it doesn't," Lancer agrees. "But the things you go on to say after this point are concerning, to say the least. Which brings me back to my original question. Are you okay?"

Danny's face scrunches as he thinks. So what if he got personal? It's a personal matter. That was the whole point when he wrote it. He doesn't understand what Lancer's getting at.

Lancer sighs and keeps going. "'Lots of people think about what happens after they die. Usually, they're talking about religion and what waits for them on the other side. Personally, I wonder about what happens to everything I leave behind, and what dying would do for me.' Would you like to expand on that?"

Danny leans away. "No?"

"What dying would do for you," Lancer repeats.

"What are you– oh." Finally, realization dawns on Danny. He squirms uncomfortably. "I'm not– I don't want to–"

He cuts himself off with a sight. How is he supposed to explain what's going on in his head without giving his secret away? Danny's not okay, but he isn't not okay, either. He's just... dead.

He died, but he lived, and it changed him. And yet, at the same time, nothing changed at all. In the grand scheme of things, Danny died and everything stayed the same. No one noticed, except his friends, who were there and are probably scarred for life.

Besides, Danny lived, in the end. So he's supposed to be fine, right? But he doesn't know how to deal with going through something that traumatic and realizing it didn't matter.

Ghosts look at life differently. They don't regret dying because once you're dead, whatever led up to that point no longer matters. They remember their lives, but they don't care about them. If Danny had died all the way that day, he wouldn't care either. Thinking about that messes him up.

Lancer watches him expectantly. Danny realizes he's been silent for too long, and he has to say something.

"It's complicated."

"We have the time, if you'd like to try," Lancer says.

Danny shakes his head. "I really don't. You don't need to be worried about me, or anything. I don’t want to die or anything. I just..."

My whole life is just one big existential crisis.

"Mr. Fenton." Lancer stands up, pushing away from his desk.

Danny keeps his eyes on the philosophy collage as Lancer approaches. Holding himself perfectly still, he doesn’t look away, even as Lancer crouches next to Danny's desk.

"Okay."

There's nothing special about the word, or the way Lancer says it. He has no clue what's going on in Danny's mind right now, but he's looking at Danny with warm eyes, offering him a comforting smile, and Danny actually feels like he could be okay.

"For whatever it's worth, Mr. Fenton, I don't think my days would be the same without you. But I understand."

He really doesn't, but Danny appreciates the effort.

"If this isn't something you'd like to talk about with me, I won't push it. Perhaps I could have approached you more delicately about the matter." Lancer pats Danny's shoulder. "I hope you will talk to someone, if you need it. And don't let this stop you from pursuing your interest in philosophy."

Danny doesn't have the heart tell Lancer he only took the class because he thought it would be easy.

"You have a knack for it."

"Um, thank you," Danny says.

Lancer pats him again, then stands. "Don't let me keep you. I'm sure, as you students would say, you have to get vibing."

Danny grimaces. "We really wouldn't."

Dismissed, he gathers up his backpack and practically sprints to the door, yanking it open. Halfway out, he pauses, looking back over his shoulder. Lancer is back at his desk already, resuming his grading.

"Thanks, Mr. Lancer," Danny says. "You're not really 'hip', but... you are kind of cool."

He runs out of the room before Lancer can respond. Lips pressed in a firm line, he contemplates whether today was good or bad after all. A+ on his essay? Good. Getting praised in front of the class? It sounded good, but it felt bad and it was awkward as hell. Tucker eating all his gummy bears? Definitely bad.

The talk he just had with Lancer? Debatable.

Danny rounds the corner, heading for the front doors, and almost barrels right into Dash. He swerves at the last second—thank you reflexes—and skitters out of Dash's way.

"Watch it, Fenfreak," Dash says.

Danny rolls his eyes. "You get more creative every day, Dash. Why are you even still here?"

"Practice tonight, duh," Dash says.

Right. Danny gives Dash a critical look. "Going to your locker?" he asks.

"My stuff's already in the gym, dweeb. Why do you care?"

"I just thought I saw Paulina put some in there early. Could have been a love letter or something." Danny shrugs.

An eager gleam enters Dash's eye. Danny almost feels sorry for the poor guy. He's probably the only person who can't tell Paulina is hopelessly in love with Star. Why else would Paulina say she can't date any boys because she's saving herself for the ghost boy? Seriously.

Dash runs for his locker, yanking it open. As a resounding bang echoes down the hall and green go splatters all over the walls, floor, ceiling, and Dash, Danny finally makes up his mind. Today is a very good day.

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #tw discussion of death #danny phantom #danny phantom fanficion #phanfic #phicc #tumblroneshots #lancer is a good teacher #lancer bonding #sort of #dash gets pranked because why not

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starfire0283 · 4 years

Text

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa X Quirkless! Izuku Midoriya

I am new to Tumblr, so bare with me please. This is an au, please don’t judge, but I don’t really care if you do, it’s honestly up to you. If a part two is requested I will make it. Just so you know, you shouldn’t admire yandere relationships, you shouldn’t romanticize them either (but yet I am in a way, so don’t do what I’m doing). If you are going through a relationship that is abusive, toxic, or you have on with someone who has yandere tendencies, I suggest you get help before you get too attached. Do not attempt to kidnap anyone or do anything else in this book, except for normal sex,

Warning: Lemon (I guess), definitely not kid friendly, smut, and supper shitty.

Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping, Rape, Possible Stockholm Syndrome, and Yandere Tendencies.

Synopsis: Izuku is 22 and quirkless, transgender male. He isn’t fully transgender, he just cut his hair, changed is name, his pronouns, and wears a binder. He somehow catches the eye of the pro hero, Eraserhead (I’ll let you decide how) and gets kidnaped. Yada yada yada (can’t tell you too much ;) ), Izuku may or may not develop Stockholm Syndrome, you’ll have to read to find out.

A mop of forest green hair ran through a dark alley. His breathing was heavy and his felt like they were on fire. He had fifteen feet till he reached a populated street. Now ten. Now five. Now-. A grey material wrapped around the greenette’s arms and legs, a harsh tug at the other end brought the male back to where he started. “Where do you think your going kitty?” The male’s emerald eyes looked behind him to confirm what he already knew. “I thought we talked about running away Izuku.”

A raven haired man was holding Izuku hostage, the males eyes glowed a bright red and his hair was floating. “M-mr. A-a-aizawa.” The bounds around him tightened. “S-shouta. I promise I won’t do it again! Just please don’t hurt her, she has nothing to do with this, I just wanted some fresh air.”

Tears were now streaming down Izuku’s face, Shouta felt a tang of pity for the younger male, but he was too consumed in anger to even think about an agreement the dealt with her. Shouta started to drag Izuku back to his prison. “I promise I won’t run away again if you promise not to hurt her.”

Shouta stopped. He turned around and used his scarf to bring Izuku close to his face. “Oh, Izu. I’ll leave her alone as long as you’re a good kitty and don’t mention her again. That includes during your punishment tonight.” Izuku felt a shudder go do his spine when Shouta said Izu, but fear built up inside him as he thought about what his punishment would be. Shouta leaned in to whisper something into his ear and felt something inside Izuku swell up, but he couldn’t just lay his finger on it.

Aizawa finished dragging Izuku back to his house. As soon as they entered Shouta’s room, he threw Izuku on to his bed and walked over to his dresser. Izuku knew better so he just lied down on the bed still wrapped in the restraints. He closed his eyes as he listened to Aizawa rummage threw his dresser. Izuku could only lay there and pray that his punishment was too bad. Aizawa had stopped digging through his drawer and padded quietly to his ‘prey’. He sat down whatever it was on the bed.

The scarf around Izuku started to retract and he was getting even more nervous by the second. Izuku nearly let out a yelp when his pants were pulled down if it wasn’t for the hand over his mouth. Aizawa’s cold, calloused hands slither down and pulled Izuku’s underwear down. A slight gasp left Izuku’s mouth as Aizawa grabbed his cunt. “Oh, you like that?”

Izuku let out a small whimper and Aizawa stuck his index finger up Izuku’s virginia, reciting a small gasp from the younger male. “Very vocal today, aren’t we? I guess you shouldn’t ran away, but nonetheless, I’ve been waiting for this”. Izuku’s face grew red in shame. He could feel the warmth in his core, and it only got worse as Aizawa moved his finger around inside him. “Look at that, you’re wet already. You’re so slick, you’re a dirty little slut aren’t you? And you’re my slut.”

Aizawa slowly took off Izuku’s shirt while still fingering him. Right before he took off his shirt completely, Aizawa harshly inserted a second finger into Izuku’s core eliciting a moan from the greenette. Aizawa was making scissors as he took off Izuku’s binder. Aizawa’s capture scarf crept up and coiled around Izuku’s wirst. It then wrapped around the bedpost preventing Izuku’s hands from moving.

Aizawa slipped another finger in to Izuku’s hole, receiving another moan from him. While Aizawa was slowly fingering and teasing Izuku, he was fumbling with some sort of metal. He connected two different metal objects to the lower bedpost and closed each one around Izuku’s ankles. The cuffs forced him to keep his legs spread and it was impossible to close them until the cuff were removed or the chains were broken. The chain needed a different key to unlock them and if the chains were broken, they would inject a sedative into it’s victims so they wouldn’t get far.

Izuku knew this because he had somehow broken a chain and had only gotten ten feet before he started to feel dizzy. Yet, right now, there wasn’t any fear in him, only the urge for Aizawa to go faster, the slowness was driving him crazy. Aizawa, almost as if he read Izuku’s thoughts, picked up speed a little while messing with his belt and pants. He pulled them down slowly and started to kiss Izuku near kis core which still had three moving fingers in it.

Izuku let out a moan before quickly clamping his mouth shut. “Ah, Kitty, don’t be selfish. I want to hear you sing.” Aizawa removed his fingers and a disappointed look came across Izuku’s face. He felt so good with Aizawa in him and he couldn’t understand why, he hated himself for it. Aizawa took his shirt off at an agonizingly slow speed that made Izuku whimper, but the poor boy could figure it out. Before he could think about it anymore, Aizawa dropped his boxers and Izuku gaped at his length for hundredth time. Aizawa wasn’t really long, but he was wide.

Before Izuku could protest, Aizawa’s warm breath skimmed over his heat an Izuku had a sharp intake of breath. Aizawa let a small smile creep onto his lips. Aizawa stuck his tongue into Izuku’s hole and teased him a little before he did laps around Izuku’s cunt. Gasps and moans could be hear from Izuku as Aizawa worked his magic. After a few more laps, Aizawa cleaned Izuku’s hole of any and all liquids, while in the process, teasing it so it would release a white and gooey substance on his tongue. Soon enough it did, and as cum poured out of Izuku’s hole, Aizawa’s tongue was lapping up every last drop. while Aizawa was ‘feasting on Izuku’s pussy, said male was screaming and moaning Aizawa’s name.

Because of that, Aizawa went beyond what he usually does for a punishment. He let Izuku’s high die down some, but not too much before he lined up his cock with Izuku’s core. Fear was prominent in the younger male’s eyes when he realized that Aizawa was going to fuck him, and that he was going to get fucked without protection. yet again, before Izuku could think about it, Aizawa was already on the next step. Aizawa lined up with Izuku’s entrance and pushed in. Izuku let out a pained gasp, but his slick entrance clutched Aizawa’s dick as if it was his life line. Aizawa started to slowly thrust, but it quickly escalated it Aizawa full blown ramming into Izuku. They screamed each others names when then came and were riding off their organism. Aizawa was exhausted, but he wasn’t done yet.

He crawled up to Izuku’s head and put Izuku’s wrist into the cuff connected to those bedposts. Aizawa threw his scarf on to his nightstand and waited until Izuku opened his mouth. When he did, Aizawa stuck his cock in it and Izuku let out a moan of delight. Izuku sucked on Aizawa’s cock until it was swollen and a bright red.

Aizawa then decided that the ‘punishment’ that Izuku had was a joke. He decided that he would break Izuku legs in the morning, but it was still night and he could have as much fun with Izuku as he wanted. He walked over to his drawer and pulled out a viberator that entered both holes. He inserted the viberator and grabbed his knife from his nightstand. “Shouta?”

“Yes, Kitty?”

“I love you.”

Aizawa got back on the bed and turned the sex toy, he slowly started to drag his knife across old scars and spell his name, he even caved a few new hearts into Izuku’s skin. “I love you too.” Izuku just yelled and moaned Shouta’s name the whole time. “One more thing, call me daddy if you really love me.”

“DADDY~!”

Aizawa swore that it would have woken up the whole neighborhood if his house wasn’t soundproof. After Aizawa was done cutting Izuku’s skin, he asleep to the sounds of Izuku’s moans and screams because he left the viborator in him. Right before Aizawa went to bed, he turned the toy up to high. Izuku slept after his thrashing woke up Aizawa, let’s just say, for putting on a good show, Izuku was allowed to sleep all day the next day.

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scribeofred · 3 years

Text

Thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the tag!

1. What fandoms have you written for?

This is embarrassing but I actually had to look at both FFnet and AO3 because I couldn’t remember all of them. TRON: Legacy, Assassin’s Creed, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit, Sherlock, Final Fantasy VII and XV and Kingsglaive, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Merlin, Skyrim, and, of course, Thunderbirds. I have a couple other fandoms that crop up in various wips, including a Tom Swift/Thunderbirds crossover that I really should finish.

2. How many works do you have on AO3 &/or FFNet?

FFnet has 45, and AO3 has 41. There’s also a couple stories lurking on tumblr, notably a final chapter for Reflection.

3. What are your top 3 fics by kudos on A03 &/or Favs on FFNet?

AO3 dominates in this area, if I can use a word like “dominates” for stories that have less than 125 kudos each haha. Oh well, the numbers don’t matter!

1. 118 kudos on tell the shades apart (my world is black and white)

2. 94 kudos on Reflection

3. 91 kudos on The 43rd Hour

4. Which 3 fics have the least kudos & Favs?

Again on AO3:

1 kudos on I Am You (And You Are Me)

5 kudos on The Dragonborn Chronicles

6 kudos on cynosure

5. Which Fic has the most comments and which has the least?

Reflection has the most at 29 threads, and I Am You (And You Are Me) has the least at zero.

6. Which complete fic do you wish had gotten more attention?

Lodestar, definitely. Sure, it’s for something of a rarepair, but they aren’t that rare, and I just really really like the way the story came together. On the other hand, of course my unfinished Merlin fic has gotten probably the most attention, because that’s just the way it goes, eh?

7. Have you written any crossovers?

None that I’ve published! I have various crossovers lurking in mostly unfinished states, including the aforementioned Tom Swift/Thunderbirds crossover, and an Assassin’s Creed/Thundeerbirds crossover that is very good and I should also finish. There’s an Expanse/Thunderbirds fic lurking in my brain that I may or may not ever commit to paper, who knows. I’ve also very vaguely toyed with a Batman/Thunderbirds crossover, in the sense that “nebulous” is too strong a word for the kind of toying I’ve been doing.

8. What is the craziest fic you’ve written?

I don’t really write crazy or crack or humor in general, so probably the closest thing to “crazy” is On the Lam, which was the result of wanting to throw Scott and Penelope toward an Egyptian stud farm. It ended up being the host for a bad joke about that, courtesy of one @thebaconsandwichofregret, who consistently gives some of the best dialogue advice I’ve ever encountered.

Actually, the true answer is probably a chapter in Glimpses into a Supernova, maybe the one about blood? It seems bonkers when I think back on it now, but I admittedly haven’t read it in many years. Possibly I am misremembering. Glimpses has some weird ones, though.

9. What’s the fic you’ve written with the saddest ending?

It’s a tossup between The Painting and a place where the water touches the sky. The former deals with a prior off-screen death; the latter is (maybe??) an on-screen death. People seemed upset by it, at any rate. I said it was ambiguous!

10. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

“Happy” is probably a matter of perspective? Depends on the overall reading experience and the ending within that context. Either septet or Three Towels and a Tracy, they’re both pretty fluffy overall.

11. What is your smuttiest fic?

protoinstincts, which I completely forgot I wrote and then rediscovered like a year later and realized “hey, this is actually pretty good” and you know what, despite it not being overly spicy, it is pretty good.

12. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, per se, but someone left a review on Less Than Nothing saying they “didn’t like” that I “wrote the story as a series of drabbles.” Cool, I didn’t write the story for you, random guest reader, and the back button exists, friend 😂 It didn’t bother me on a personal level because I wrote the fic for an audience of one (incidentally, not myself and rather the recipient of a secret santa event), but I was mad because the reviewer had no way of knowing where I was at as a writer, and I know from longtime observation how that kind of comment can crush less experienced or confident writers.

Don’t leave flames, kids, you don’t understand the power your words have. Don’t like, don’t read.

13. What is the nicest comment you’ve received?

The nicest? Goodness. Hmm. I’d have to go hunting to find the nicest, but in recent memory, @ayzrules sent me a couple passages from Spanish texts she’s been studying that reminded her of my writing, and I was honestly so touched by the fact that she even thought to make such comparisons, much less mention them to me. Taking the time to familiarize yourself with someone’s style until you can make comparisons between it and someone else’s work is so much more meaningful to me personally than a basic “Nice story!” or “Loved this!” type of comment ever could be. <3 Ayz <3

14. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of, but I’ve never gone looking on any sort of copycat site or whatever either.

15. How many fics do you have marked as incomplete?

Two. First is The Dragonborn Chronicles, which is a retelling of Skyrim from Lydia’s perspective via her journal, to complement the in-game journal. It’s a slog of a style to write, though, even for someone who loves writing first person and doesn’t really want to write a lot of dialogue, and the outline is huge, and the story will be many times more huge, and just. Some day. Some day.

Second is tell the shades apart (my world is black and white), which has always been unfinished because the outline itself is over seven thousand words and the fully written story would undoubtedly land between 100,000 and 200,000 words, and there’s no way I’m writing that. I’ve always meant to upload the outline, but I got kind of self-conscious about the way I formatted it, and ugh I just haven’t bothered. One day, one day, right?

Moral of the story is I’m intensely a short story writer, and I’ve really found myself settling into that role over the last couple years. Better a clipped, punchy short story than a bloated slog of an epic.

16. Which of the WIPS will most likely be finished first?

Literally no one knows that. I wrote 95% of the observable entropy of a closed system over five years ago, and then I proceeded to pull it out roughly once a year and write and rewrite various endings until last month, which was when I finally figured out how I wanted to end the story. septet, too, languished for about five years before I finally remembered it existed and managed to wrangle an ending. Endings are hard, man. So are those third plot points. Terrible creatures, those, bog me down every time.

17. Which WIP are you looking forward to finishing?

Uh... mm. See. If I were looking forward to finishing any of them, I’d be actively working on them. At this moment, writing fic isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities, but I am also coming off a four-day idle game bender, so I still feel like I haven’t quite reengaged with myself as a living person. Give me another few days and I might have an answer.

(I am always most looking forward to finishing this ridiculous Ignis-drives-the-Audi-R8 fic that’s been languishing in my wips for literal years. As mentioned above, third plot points. Killer, man.)

(oh and also the working-titled the art of murder. Scott and Penny attend a private art auction. Things don’t go to plan. It, too, is stuck at the third plot point. I know, I know I have a problem, shush.)

18. Is there a WIP that you’re considering abandoning?

Any wip has the potential to be revived—this year and the old wips I’ve unearthed, dusted off, finished, and posted have been proof of that. I don’t intentionally permanently abandon anything for that reason, some stories just probably will remain dusty old wips forever because I didn’t actually need or want to write the full story for one reason or another.

19. Which complete fic would you consider rewriting?

Now that’s an interesting question. Hmm! Honestly? None of them. Once I finish a story, I’m not inclined toward rereading it again any time soon, to the point of years in some cases, and I feel like I’ve moved on from the stories I wrote one, two, five, eight years ago in the actual writing sense. They’re finished stories, and on top of that are relics of their time, which doesn’t mean the stories don’t have any ongoing significance on a reading level—I just don’t have any interest in rewriting those particular stories. I’ve gotten them out of my head, to the point of not remembering at least a third of them on demand anymore, and I don’t have any desire to “retell” those exact stories. I do tend to tighten the wording and fix perceived errors/weaknesses whenever I do end up rereading an old story, and I usually silently update the AO3 version if I make any significant changes because AO3 makes it a breeze to update a posted fic. I might do FFnet too if I’m feeling up to it or have the time.

20. Which complete fic is your favourite?

Once upon a time I would’ve said Holding On, but I honestly find it kind of unbearably melodramatic now. the observable entropy of a closed system is equally melodramatic, as it was written in the same era, but at least it has the excuse of being told in second person and via a style that is a half step away from being poetry. Possibly I will reread it in a few years and find it equally obnoxious and overly dramatic, but it received some shockingly positive comments, which I wasn’t expecting at ALL, and I’ve been honestly blown away by the amount of praise it’s received. <3 to everyone who’s said anything about it!

21. What’s your total published word count?

141,000 on AO3, 160,000 on FFnet, but technically the light of my life SS wrote fifty thousand words of each. It’s too late for math.

I tag @velkynkarma, @lurkinglurkerwholurks, @writtenbyrain, @thebaconsandwichofregret, and anyone else who wants to play!

#tag games

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years

Note

Sooooo NSFW alphabet (as a whole) for our dear clone boys? Wolffe or Cody...u decide ❤ thank u

A/N: I decided to go with Wolffe on this one because, I like Wolffe. Also, I think I’ve got a better grasp on his character. And, just as a reminder REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!! Likes mean nothing on this site and the tags hate me personally.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Panting, sweating, and holding you close. He seriously loves nothing more than pulling you against him as he presses soft kisses all over your skin. You practically have to bribe him to let you go long enough to wash up after.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your ass. There’s no getting around it. He loves the way it feels in his hand. He loves the sound you make when he squeezes it. And most of all, he hates to see you leave, but he loves to watch you go.

For himself, Wolffe is pretty proud of his chest. He loves the feel of your hands on him. He knows you watch him when he’s training with his brothers. And you’ve made it your mission in life to kiss an admire every scar on it. How could he not appreciate your efforts?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s a tie if he prefers cumming in your mouth or in your cunt more. Either way, cumming inside you is the best feeling in the world for him. It’s like he’s proving to himself that you’re his. It’s his cum inside you, nobody else, and you’re letting him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He still has your panties from the first night you had sex. He’s not proud of it, but when he’s been away from too long, he likes to hold the lace as he jerks off. He would never tell you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Let’s go with limited before he meets you. Obviously none of the clones even see any sort of potential sexual partner until after their training is over, and after then it’s kind of few and far between. Wolffe has had a couple of one night stands with some women who have come into 79′s, but that’s about it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. Cliche? Yes. But true. He loves having a perfect view of your ass as he cock slides in and out of you, coated with you slick. He loves the control it gives him. But he especially loves covering you with his body and bite into your shoulder as you both cum.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not really. He can be a little cheeky at times as he teases you, but most of the time it’s fast, rough, and completely erotic.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it pretty trim down below. He knows you’re not a fan of a mouth full of pubic hair when you suck him off. The least he can do is keep your comfort to a minimum.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In the moment it’s like he wants to absorb your body into his. Even when he’s taking you from behind, he grabbing and pulling and kissing your skin like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. So, romantic? Maybe not. Intimate? Yes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s away a lot and every now and again needs to let off some steam. He shares his bunk with his brothers, so getting off there without leaving some evidences is a trick. Most of the time he waits until late at night on the ship and slips into the showers when nobody is around. It’s then a matter of turning on the warm water and picturing you’re in there with him. He’s gotten off plenty of times to the thought of your lips wrapped around his cock as the water pours down both your bodies.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. We know Wolffe has his own reservations about being a clone. While he’s gotten better, the idea that he’s one of literally millions ways on him at times. So to have you call his name, praise his fingers, his cock, his lips and know that he’s the one making you see stars is everything to him.

Also totally a Dom. Not full blown latex and whips, but he does like the idea of tying you up and letting him do what he wants to your body.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place is your apartment on Coruscant. If he’s at your apartment, good chance you’re both on leave so the probability of being call away or interrupted are slim to none. He once kept you in that apartment for three days straight after not seeing you in months. All you did was fuck, eat, sleep and fuck again for almost 72 hours.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, just you whispering into his ear and telling him you’re horny is enough to get him going. You add and kiss and a small bite on his neck and he’s ready to take you against the nearest wall. You’re own assertiveness combined with the fact you want him to be the one to take care of you is all he needs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

You humiliating him. Seriously, degrading him or hitting him or anything like that just gets him frustrated and upset.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He man loves a good blow job. I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s a toss up for him between cumming down your throat or in your pussy. The sight of you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock has gotten him through plenty of lonely nights.

That all being said, he’s excellent at giving. Although, he almost exclusively uses it as a form of torture. There was one memorable night when he tied your hands to the headboard and decided to see how many times he could make you cum with just his tongue and fingers.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most of the time it’s rough borderline feral sex. Lots of hair pulling, biting, bruised hips and a couple of broken headboards. If you’re both not panting like you just ran a marathon he considers it a slow night.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

On the rare occasion you’re working along side each other, quickies are definitely a thing. He never has a quickie while on duty, but he knows there is no way you guys can get enough privacy to had a full sessions. So, the solution is quickies in empty shower rooms, abandoned tech rooms, and even once an empty med bay. He’s not sure when he’s going to see you again and doesn’t want to waste the opportunity

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Wolffe really is up for anything, so long as you talk to him before hand. He wants to makes sure you’re comfortable and safe with whatever you guys try out.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is actually pretty impressive. You’re not sure if it’s just pent up energy since you guys so rarely get to see each other in person or if he’s just like that. Either way, he can go three rounds on an average night. They fluctuate in terms of time depending on how much foreplay is in between sessions, but it’s enough to leave you both exhausted and spent by the end of it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Wolffe doesn’t really have any toys for himself. The mocking he would get from his brothers if they ever found it is enough for him not to risk it. But, you do have a nice collection of toys in your apartment the pair of you like to bring out every now and again.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is such a tease. There is just something about you tied to the bed, bucking your hips as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers begging for him to let you cum that is oh so satisfying.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He certainly is loud. Add that to another reason why your apartment is the best place to have sex. He grunt and groan and whispers dirty things in your ear only to get louder and more wild the closer he is to cumming.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Absolutely none of his brothers really realize how bad he has it for you. Wolffe more than almost any other clone knows how to divide his private life from his personal life. Even if you work together and go off to random corners of the ship for a quick one, literally nobody catches on. The man has the best poker face in the GAR and you can quote me on that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I’m convinced all the clones are hung and you can quote me on that. An eight inch thick dick, the lot of them.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, which surprises everyone besides you. Every chance he has to touch you, he does. You wonder if it will cool down once the war is over because there’s no chance any time soon.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s out pretty soon after you finally call it a night. Grant you are too, but he’s out like a light. Nothing short of a bombing is going to get him up.

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #star wars #the clone wars #star wars imagine #the clone wars imagine #lemon

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

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I’m bored and you’re headcanons are honestly so quality omfg but anyways write a headcanon of ethan and MC having a high school, slow burn love/not love (angsty ✨✨✨ kinda like us with our muses 💀 I’m not sure if Ethan ends up coming out as gay at the end tho-honestly if he did I’m living for it) love you lots! 💖 your tumblr niece

AHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAH no no nope Ethan will not come out as gay 🤣 But I am going to take full on creative liberty with this and you’re just gonna have to deal 😘

Ethan and Becca Meet in High School

Ethan Ramsey was 26 years old and a TA for the school’s science department. He took the part time role on a year’s contract to help pay off some of his student loans before he started residency.

At 17 years old, Becca was a senior at a small-town high school.

Becca was an interesting student - very quiet but intelligent. She surrounded herself with the strangest group boys. Those boys were her lab bench mates, and were incredibly subpar.

More than once Ethan caught the three boys playing games on their laptops and scrolling their feeds instead of paying attention.

He watched her carry them all on her back through the course. And ask for nothing in return.

It made his blood boil - they were clearly taking advantage of their friend.

The next week Ethan persuaded Ms. Cook changed up the seating arrangements.

Ethan took great pleasure in marking the boys Cs instead of the B+ they were used to getting with Becca’s help.

Second Semester, AP Bio was kicking Becca’s ass. She needed help preparing to get the 5 she needed on the exam in order to rank Top 15 in her class before graduation.

So she attended Ms. Cook’s after school sessions.

It seemed half the class needed extra help, so they were split up into groups. Half with Cook and half with Ramsey. Becca was assigned to Ramsey.

As the days and weeks progressed, the after school group dwindled.

After a choose-your-partner lab that day, Becca ended up with the same group of useless individuals.

At study group that afternoon, Ethan confronted her about it: “I don’t know why you let them take credit for your work. Be proud of your accomplishments.” “Being proud gets you enemies.” “You’d rather have friends and compromise your integrity, than showing everyone what you’re capable of?”

That made her think.

“I’d rather come out of high school unscathed.” “You can’t make everyone love you. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you’ll come into your own.” “And who are you, Dr. Ramsey?” “Someone who took every opportunity I could. I advise you do the same.”

Over the next few weeks they got to know one another better. Ethan becoming her somewhat mentor and encouraging her to speak up more and assert herself.

She took all his words to heart.

He was proud and a little taken aback when she found a fallacy in one of their labs and called Ms. Cook out on it. It resulted in it being postponed to fix the errors.

Being a high school senior meant having to choose what college to go to.

She was getting acceptance letters left and right but she had absolutely no clue what she wanted to to with her life.

“Did you always want to be a doctor?” she asked one afternoon. “No. But it’s what I’m good at.” “How did you know it’s what you wanted to pursue?” “As much as I regret saying this, it felt like a calling.” “Hmph. Okay.” “You don’t agree with the notion?” “I don’t know what I want to do. I’ve applied to so many schools and different programs. How do I know which one’s right?”

They talked about what she’s passionate about and what makes her happiest and what careers she thinks she could pursue.

That got her to think. Think long and hard and over a few days.

She had a new outlook on life - she was on a new quest to find her eternal happiness.

May came around and she took her AP exam. She got a perfect score. _

Becca has eyes. She notices how attractive Dr. Ramsey is. Tbh everyone notices - he’s the thirst of the school district. Her girl friends even ask her about him multiple times a week. All she does is roll her eyes and say he’s too old for them.

Becca had been all but dating Bryce Lahela for the last year and a half.

They were friends.

Friends who kissed and touched and spent almost every Friday and Saturday night together with the gang.

It wasn’t a secret that Bryce was completely enamored by her.

He wanted her. Officially. And he was tried of waiting.

One day after school, Bryce was waiting outside Ms. Cook’s classroom for her.

He nodded at and dodged every student that passed him as he waited. She was the last one to leave.

“Hey,” he gave his megawatt smile. “Hey, what’re you doing here? Don’t you have practice?” “Ended early.”

They exchanged small talk and Bryce finally began to lay everything out in a young, round about way. He kissed her to butter her up.

“Be my girlfriend?” “What’s wrong with what we already have?” “C’mon, Becks,” he pulled her in closer by her beltloop. “No.” “No?” “What’s the point? We’re just going to break up before college.” “You don’t know that.”

She rattled off all her reasons why: they aren’t going to the same school, they’re young, she doesn’t want to resent him, she doesn’t want to fall in love with him just for it to end badly.

Bryce went to fight for her but was interrupted by the slam of a door. The two looked up and saw Dr. Ramsey and Ms. Cook locking up for the evening.

She pulled away from him and turned on her heels.

At the bus stop, Becca sat with her head in her hands.

Ethan came up next to her. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision. You’re going to change immensely over the next few years.” “I know,” she grumbled into her palms. “It just hurts.” _

Becca went to Stony Brook and double majored in Chemistry and Biology.

She then attended Med School at UCLA.

Her second year, a familiar name stared back at her from her required internal medicine textbook: Dr. Ethan Ramsey.

Becca couldn’t help the smile as she remembered him. She’d almost forgot about the TA that impacted her life more than she could ever know.

Out of curiosity she consumed all his research. And when she finished everything, she found his direct email at Edenbrook.

She spent an entire weekend wondering if she should email him - Ask if he remembered her and that she followed his advice. She found her calling and it was helping people, just like him. She thought about throwing a joke in there but figured it had been too many years and it probably wouldn’t translate.

When residency came, she only had applied to Edenbrook.

And that’s when she emailed him.

She hadn’t gotten a response for months.

Actually, she didn’t hear anything until her decision letter came.

That same evening she found an email from him at the top of her inbox: Glad to see you’ve found your voice. We look forward to welcoming you to the team.

Ethan vaguely remembered Becca.

Honestly, he blocked the whole TA part of his life out.

Though, once he received her email, he personally vetted her application. And he was blown away. She wasn’t some naïve teenager.

Becca started working at Edenbrook and wanted nothing more than to learn from Ethan himself.

But he was different - jaded and cynical and not as approachable as she remembered.

He pushed her to reach her potential and she pushed his buttons.

They grew closer, especially with Naveen’s case. Basically the slow burn in canon happens.

These two get together, officially, once their jobs at the new Bloombrook Diagnostics Hospital were instated and they were definitely both staying in Boston for the foreseeable future. _

Becca didn’t particularly want to go to her 10-year high school reunion. She went because she was being recognized for her accomplishments with a few other alum.

She brought her boyfriend Ethan with her. “If I have to sit through this, so do you.” “I can honestly say I’ve never been to a reunion.” “Well, you’re my excuse to leave early. Gotta put the old man to bed,” she winked.

She was grateful for him playing along instead of taking another shift at work, and it would be nice to just be a couple for once. Without expectations hanging over them as the heads of their respective departments at work.

They had been in the ballroom for less than 15 minutes before they heard the loud whispers circulating.

Seems like Becca wasn’t the only one who remember the sexiest TA in all of high school history and of teenage dreams.

There were a bunch of intrusive questions being thrown at them and people coming up to them for the low down.

They tried not to be rude in their admonishments but the whole situation was awkward as fuck. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring him with her....

But there was no going back now.

And then Bryce sauntered over.

They hadn’t spoken to one another since senior prom when he took her best friend as a date and then hooked up with someone else at the after party.

“Rebecca, you look amazing,” he came in for a hug. “Thank you, Bryce.”

They had awkward catch ups at one side of the table as Ethan sat at the other end fending off questions from other girls and a select group of boys that remembered him.

Bryce and Becca talked about what they’ve been up to, how he’s now a surgeon and what brought him back home.

They lamented about how it’s strange they’re both in medicine and never spoke of that as a career path way back when.

In their long, flowing and unawkward conversation, they settled that it was best they went their separate ways.

They settled on the agreement that they didn’t think they’d end up at the schools they went to if they did date. They assumed love would reign and they’d choose to stay close by, and New York and California were not close by.

With all the long awaited closure finally out of the way, Bryce motioned towards Ethan; “So, you and that guy? How’d that happen?”

She knew what he was thinking and was quick to squash any rumors from starting.

“We work together. Didn’t mean for it to happen, it just kind of fell together.” “You look happy.” “I am.”

Bryce was bold in his next assumption. Knowing Becca as the girl who always spoke about never getting married and being a free bird as her main reasons for never committing to a boy, he wanted to catch her of guard: “Is it love?”

He wasn’t prepared for her answer.

“Yes.”

People change and are allowed to evolve. But it’s hard to imagine someone you once loved as anything other than who they were. And it’s even harder to see them in love with someone else.

#love you the mostest #open heart #open heart headcanons #hc #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #bryce lahela #asked #you weren't expecting this and i wasn't expecting to write this #what did i just write????#Anonymous #bryce x mc

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