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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Canvas

Canvas: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1844

Warnings: smut (vaginal sex, messy sex,)

Synopsis: Steve has been painting you for a while. In a lot of ways you’ve been his must. This time, he has decided to use a whole different canvas to practice his art on.

Canvas

The brush was soft and tickled your skin. Paired with the cool, wet paint, it set off a ripple of goosebumps in its wake.

Steve was an artist. You hadn’t known that when you’d first started seeing each other. The serious and stoic Steve Rogers who had devoted his life to protect the world as Captain America didn’t seem to be the soft artistic type.

He had surprised you though. First with the fact he wasn’t as serious as he made himself seem when he was in uniform. He was funny and snarky, and he cared deeply about people.

And he liked to paint.

You’d first discovered his artistic side when you’d woken up to find him sitting on the end of the bed sketching a picture of you sleeping. There was a way about Steve - an open vulnerability - that meant he could get away with doing things like watching you sleep that didn’t feel creepy. There was something romantic about the way that he wanted to capture the moment. Not with a camera to show how it was, but with a pencil to show how it made him feel.

Since that day he’d gotten more and more into his art when he was around you. Your place and his became littered with sketches and drawings, mostly of you, but sometimes just of things that made him feel real. Not the symbol of America, but a real man who wanted a quiet life with someone he loved.

When the painting started, you would sit for him. You were his muse and when you would sit for him, you’d find yourself holding all kinds of unlikely positions, in a variety of different states of undress.

It was a strange feeling being his life model. Sexy. Uncomfortable. Flattering. Safe. The best part was seeing the finished product. It was like getting to see yourself through the eyes of the person who loved you most and there was nothing more intimate than that.

Today Steve was interested in a different canvas.

You stood naked in his home office, a drop cloth below you to capture any stray drops of paint. Steve had his shirt off too, and there were already a few smears of paint on his perfectly sculpted chest. There was something sexy about the look. Like the mess made him seem raw and unbridled in a way Steve rarely was outside of sex and battle.

The brush moved down and around the curve of our breast in a long sweeping motion. You shivered as the cool of the paint sent a tingle up your spine. Your nipples hardened and you weren’t sure if that was only because of the cold. Steve’s eyes drifted from the line of his paint to your breasts and his cheeks turned slightly pink. “Is it very cold?” He asked.

“It’s cold, but I’m not sure that’s the whole problem,” you coyly answered.

The blush deepened in Steve’s cheeks and his tongue glided over his plump bottom lip. “Mm… for me too,” he said and leaned down, pressing his mouth to your breast. Your nipple fit perfectly between his soft lips, and as his tongue swirled over it, you let out a sharp breath.

“Steve…” you sighed, your hand going to his shoulder to steady yourself. He sucked on your tender flesh, his tongue curling around your hardened nipple, and as he pulled back, his teeth grazed over it, making a buzz spiral out under your skin.

He returned his attention to his art, leaving you trembling slightly from the brief interlude. You blinked and shook your head as you tried to focus on the art, rather than the heat building between your legs.

You watched as he added some black to the blue he was painting on your skin, darkening the shade as he filled in the color under your stomach. “What are you painting?” You asked.

“You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he said.

“It’s not a flag, is it?” You asked. “I don’t want you to paint me to look like a flag.”

Steve laughed softly and shook his head. “No. It’s not a flag.”

He dipped his thumb into the purple on his pallet and ran it down between the two shades of blue on your stomach. It tickled and you squirmed away from him a little.

“I need you to try and stay still, sweetheart,” Steve said.

“You try it when someone’s doing this to you,” you teased, and poked him in the abs. He jumped away with a laugh.

“That’s cheating,” he said, grabbing your wrist.

You giggled and he kissed your hand before letting your wrist go again. His fingerprints remained on your skin. Blue spots to mark where he’d held you. You studied them as he returned to painting. Admiring the way they marked how easily his large hands wrapped around your wrists.

You took one of Steve’s spare brushes and dipped it into the red paint.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrow though he didn’t look away from his work.

“Thought I’d do a little bit of body painting too,” you said and pressed your red palm against his chest. When your hand left his body, the perfect impression of your hand was left in scarlet against his pale milk skin.

Steve’s lips quirked at the side and he shook his head. “Very pretty,” he said. “Shall I give you one?”

“Won’t it mess up your design?” You asked.

“I can paint over it,” he said as he began painting his palm with purple paint. “Where should I put this?” He teased, waving it in front of you.

You squealed but your body seemed to curve toward him like it was aching for his touch. He hovered his hand over your breast. “Here?” he whispered and watched as you shivered slightly, pushing your chest out toward him. He licked his lips and moved his hand up to your neck. “Maybe here?”

You swallowed thickly. “Please?”

He moved his hand down around your waist and smacked it down on your ass. It was firm and made a sharp crack as his skin met yours, but it wasn’t painful. You gasped and he dragged your forward, his fingers digging into your ass. “Here?” He said, bringing his lips to yours.

You kissed him hungrily, his other arm curling around your waist. You moaned into his lips and pressed your body against him. You could picture the mark on your ass. His large palm staining your skin purple. His hands slid around your waist, smearing the paint as he moved them, leaving a wet trail up to your ribs. His fingers tightened and he pushed you back against the wall. You submitted to him, melting under his touch. His hands gripped your chest just under your breasts and he dragged them up, breaking the kiss so he could lean down and suck your breasts. You let your head fall back against the wall and wrapped a leg around him, pulling your bare cunt against his clothed crotch. His cock was hard and strained against the thick fabric of his khakis. You cunt smeared your fluids on his jeans as the friction drew them from you, sending a hot tingle spiraling out through you.

He sucked and bit at your breasts like a hungry man. Dutifully moving from one to the other and back again, sending a dull ache down to your core.

“Steve,” you moaned. “I need you.”

He groaned and spun you guiding you back to the tarp and knocking his paints to the floor so they splattered over the drop cloth. He lay you down, ignoring the paint as it pooled around your body. You put your hands in the wet mess and watched as he hurriedly unfastened his pants. As he positioned himself above you, you spread your legs wide and wrapped your arms around him, welcoming him in and marking him as your own.

He was kissing you again, hard and passionately. You matched him, bringing your tongue to meet his and swirling it around. He lined himself up and with a hard thrust, he was inside you. You gasped arching up into him as an eclectic pulse passed through your body. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, he just began thrusting into you again and again. The head of his cock hitting your cervix and sending sharp jolts through you again and again.

You cried out and bunched your hands in his hair. The paint on your hands clung to the strands, sticking them together and making them stick up in clumps. You could feel your climax building, and you nudged him. He took the hint flipping you over.

The paint you’d been lying in dripped down your back onto his thighs. He smeared his hands through it and then used it to finger paint on your body as you rode him. You started slowly, swirling your hips like you were doing a seated dance, his cock moving inside you and pressing against your walls. You began to move faster, bouncing on his cock. Steve groaned as he watched you, his hands caressing his body. Faster and faster you moved, up and down, up and down. Sweat mixed with the paint as you chased your orgasm. Steve began to snap his hips up into you, your bodies slapping together each time you connected.

He pushed you back, first so you were seated face to face, you sitting in his lap, and then pushing you back on the floor again. He pushed your legs up so they were pressed against your chest. His cock penetrated you so deeply you thought it was going to split you in two. You cried out and your orgasm hit, shuddering through you and making all your muscles seize up. Steve kept thrusting, fucking you through it, and as he reached his own climax, he pulled out pumping his cock in his fist and releasing, spattering your stomach and chest with thick white ropes that stood out against the rainbow of paint.

You lay back panting as you came down from your orgasm high and Steve lay down beside you. “God, you’re beautiful,” he sighed.

“We ruined your art,” you said, looking down at yourself.

“I think we made it better,” he said. “I know I’m going to remember you like this for a long time. My gorgeous artwork.”

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you deeply and tenderly. You closed your eyes and hummed, relaxing into it. When he pulled back he smiled at you. “We really should go shower.”

You giggled and Steve helped you to stand. He looked down at the drop sheet below him and smiled. “I think I might frame that,” he said.

You looked down at the colors. They swirled together, but you could see everywhere the two of you had touched. You liked the idea of hanging it in the apartment. A permanent reminder of what you and Steve had.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #canvas

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anntidote · 4 years

Note

Lab coat + flashlight for iwaizumi please !! Congrats on 700 and stay safe :D

pairing: alien!iwaizumi x fem!reader

request: iwaizumi + scifi!au + exhibitionism

genre/warnings: sci-fi!au, smut, pwp, fingering (map receiving— it makes sense, i swear), exhibitionism, slight fluff if you squint,— you’re a scientist by the way

“i’m sorry that i have to do this.”

your words genuinely seem to surprise iwaizumi, as he fiddles with his hands, form slouched over the medical bed. “just... be careful.”

when subject 061004 crash landed in a japan’s suburban province of miyagi, the last thing anyone had ever expect was for the alien to directly communicate.

and although it was mostly on the outside looking in, you took it to heart on how impersonal some of your co-workers seemed to treat the subject. they were cold, harsh in their words, almost as if they were treating him more like an object than a person. even if the stats claimed he was male, they’d say “it is male”, “can speak japanese”, but no greeting, no courtesy, no nothing.

it made you kind of sick.

“do you have a name?” you suddenly blurted out on one occasion, causing him to raise his head, raising his eyebrow at you.

“you call me subject—“

“no no i meant, name. like- what did others refer you to before you came here.” you bring the pen you were tapping against your clipboard to the shell of your ear, blissfully oblivious to way his eyes widen at your sincerity.

he shakes his head and casts his look down onto the turoqoise tile of the floor. “it doesn’t translate to human language.”

you purse your lips for a moment, thinking, before having your eureka moment. “how about hajime?”

“hajime?” he asks, returning his vision toward you. taking in the length of your legs, the hug of your pencil skirt, and drape of the lab coat over your shoulders. he assumes this is what you humans call, beinf pretty.

“yeah! it’s the name of an anime character i like.” you explain, and he notices the way your eyes seem to sparkle. the gleam making his face turn a shade warmer. “what’s an anime?” he fauxes interest, giving into your giddy nature, unbeknownst to the grin growing on his face.

and from there, the two of you grow closer across the span of the week. bringing him small tid bits of the outside world, and he’d share details of what his life was outside of your stratosphere. it was almost heartwarming.

almost.

your coworkers thought you were an absolute lunatic for naming an alien. to them, iwaizumi hajime was a monster, and didn’t deserve the kindness you kept feeding it. and due to his lack of cooperation in getting an examination, they were about to force his extermination— as he was a threat for simply being unknown.

you let out a sigh, glancing at your one coworker who stayed behind, their slouching body in disinterest, and the fatigue catching up to them through your peripheral vision. “i’ll be as careful as i can.” you promised, taking a step closer, slightly blocking the view of others as you drew the hospital gown down and exposed his back.

this examination wasn’t suppose to invoke your curiosity like this, but perhaps curiosity killed the cat.

both of your backs toward the glass window of the inspection room, you made an effort to give him modest. using the length of your lab coat to cover him.

“hajime?” you question, noticing the tinge of red at the tips of his ears. he mumbles, noticeably fidgets with his hands, legs shifting. “y-yeah?”

“i’m gunna take a look at these, okay?”

“... alright.”

you patiently wait, only proceeding at the brisk nod he gives. your scrawled out writing on the clipboard, defening click of the wall clock of 4am, almost forgotten, as you trail a hand across the slits of his back.

there were six of them. spread across evenly, as two were across his shoulder blades, two on either side of his spine, and the two a little bit lower. “so what’re these for?”

“um... i don’t think you humans have them... they’re for— aah!” your eyes widen, at the pornographic moan, face flushing as you retract your hand almost immediately. “h-hajime?”

iwaizumi feels guilt at the heat pooling at his gut. you were innocent in comparison to the assholes that initially probed, yelled, and harassed him with questions and a set of blue gloves.

you were kinder. always staring back with pure eyes and curiosity. gentle with every touch— but perhaps he was as evil as your kindred thought he was.

“oh my gosh- i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to do that! i’m really-“

“d-don’t stop.” he pleads, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “please.”

you swear your heart stutters in it’s cage, your cheeks now a rosy pink. everything is screaming at you that this is a bad idea. your mind blows back to the fellow coworker sprawled across the desk, right outside the window of the examination room. supposedly spectating, but you know they’re definitely passed out by now. any sound would alert them.

but unfortunately, you’re not as responsible as you thought you were.

“f-fuck!” eyebrows scrunched and almost a pained expression etched on his face, you watch in amazement. tracing one of the slits of his back, slowly drooling its own lubricant, iwaizumi moans. pleasure blooming through his veins as you coax him into a state of a daze.

“is this alright?” you experimentally dip one of your fingers in, met with the tight and wet warmth of him. he groans, barely making a coherent response, his grip against the bedding, tightening. “m-more.”

soon, you’re fucking two, three fingers into him knuckle deep, as he hunches over, keening in ecstasy. you’re absolutely enthralled, clenching your thighs together for any friction, because goodness he’s hot. “oh fuck...”

especially as he cries out- not giving any fucks about your prior warning of others watching. convulsing and babbling a mantra of your name, he cums.

there’s so much of it, that coats your fingers as you fuck him through it. his splotchy vision is white, his other walls sputtering around nothing, as his slits squirt and gush. dribbling milky white ropes that trail down his back that has you salivating.

iwaizumi pants heavily, chest rising and falling in exhaustion as he returns his gaze toward your dilated ones. pulling your hand away, experimentally licking your fingers clean. “mmm... you taste good.”

bittersweet. tangy. him.

“shut up.” he hurriedly pulls his medical gown over his shoulders. you giggle, writing a couple notes onto your clipboard.

iwaizumi doesn’t know how to perceive the fondness in your eyes. the hope and the rapid beat of your heart.

“um...” but he senses the hesitance. the unsure tone in your voice that he doesn’t know why he wants to quell. the patter of your feet reaches the door, unsure of what to say.

“thank you.” he raises his head as he says it, giving you a small smile. “for...” he trails off.

you laugh, breaking the tension, easily comforting him by a simple breath. it was strange.

“anytime, hajime. anytime.”

and he hoped anytime would be sooner, so he could somehow return the favor.

the dressing room taglist: @kaaidalupita @pelicanpizza @atsunakaashi @nit-sir-hc @twilightwrites @moonchildjooniee @killkurzyackerman

if you wish to be added to the dressing room taglist, feel free to shoot me an ask and i’ll get on it asap! if your user isn’t getting mentioned, check your privacy settings!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x female reader #hq x y/n #hq x reader #hq x you #iwaizumi smut #hajime iwaizumi smut #.💗iwa #anntidote:sprinklers☔️#anntidote:700

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highonchocolate · 4 years

Text

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 3

First Previous Next Ao3

Bruce sat at the head of the long oak dining table and waited for his children to make their way into the room for dinner. They came in as a staggered group; Jason arguing about some novel with Dick while Tim and Damian brought up the back as they discussed their patrol routes for the night. After Alfred and Damian helped serve the food, Bruce cleared his throat pointedly and waited for everyone to pay attention.

Once everyone had looked up from their discussions he spoke. “Alfred has a friend named Gina; and she had called this evening to see if her granddaughter could stay with us. She lives in Paris; but her classmates were bullying her and her parents thought a change of scenery would do her some good. I have agreed to let her stay with us in the Manor.” Even before he had finished speaking the table erupted with different questions from his children.

“Bruce are you sure this is wise?” Tim questioned over Dick’s ecstatic squealing (“I’ve always wanted a little sister!!!”), and Jason’s grumbling (“Shut the fuck up Dickhead. I don’t know why the fuck B is bringing someone into this house to live with this dysfunctional family.”). Ignoring his siblings; he pressed on “I mean, how are we going to hide Batman and the vigilante stuff from her?” As Bruce paused to answer Damian stood up and scowled. “Tt. This is a moronic decision. Inform me of when this girl is to arrive and inform her to stay out of my way.” He lifted his chin and crossed his arms before marching out of the room.

After Damian’s outburst, Jason looked over from where he was arguing with Dick and added his input “Timbo’s right, B. How are we going to hide that from her?”

“We’ll have to make sure at least two of you remain in the manor each night so that she doesn’t get too suspicious.” He answered. “Now, the only reason I agreed to letting her stay here was namely for Alfred, and also because of what her classmates did to her”

“What do you mean, Bruce?” Dick questioned. “Did they like assault her or something?”

“Or something” He responded grimly before sending the photo to all three of them.

As they looked at the photo, he observed their reactions to the image. Dick was not smiling for once, and his sunny blue eyes had darkened to an icy frost. His whole body was tense; and his jaw was so clenched his teeth were grinding together. Jason was standing up with two guns locked and loaded in his hands. He had also managed to procure a knife from somewhere, which appeared as he leant forward and asked “What were the names of the people who did this again?” in a completely lethal tone. Tim, already hacking away at his computer responded “Not there yet, but from what I can find out, she goes to College Francois DuPont and she’s fifteen.” He briefly looked up and made eye contact with Bruce before asking “How fast do you think we can get our lawyers onto those kids B?” At the declarations of his children, Bruce closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “We can not file any lawsuits yet, not without Marinette’s permission.” He answered, sighing tiredly. “Marinette?” Dick questioned. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Tim responded instantly. “That’s her name.”

“She will be coming on Monday, and Alfred will be picking her up from the airport. She is also going to attend GA, so someone please tell Damian.” Bruce said as he stood from the table. “Now hurry up, we have patrol tonight, and there have been rumors about a drug ring near Crime Alley.”

---

After coming back from the hospital and having a sleepover Thursday night, Chloé and Adrien were completely sleep-deprived as they trudged into school the next morning. Settling into her usual seat beside Sabrina, Chloé silently thanked all the Kwami that she didn’t have to sit next to Lila. Halfway though class, Mrs. Bustier suddenly frowned and looked at the back row. “Does anyone know where Marinette is? She still hasn’t arrived yet!”

“Probably still sleeping at home! She’ll come in completely late as usual!” Alya cackled. At her words, Chloé felt her entire body heat up with righteous indignity. She opened her mouth to tell that wannabe tabloid reporter to get her facts straight, but then Adrien caught her eye and shook his head. He then pointed at his phone, and mimed unlocking it before pointing to her. Catching the hint, she checked her messages to see that Marinette had sent them a text.

FashionableBug: Mari said to tell Chloé and Adrien not to do anything to Lila or anyone else that starts making stuff up. (From Luka btw)

You’reUnderAgreste: Me-ouch, My Lady. I would never!

QueenofMean: shut it with the puns, Noir. Maribug, I will only listen to you because you’re injured and I’m not going to go against your wishes.

Putting her phone away, Chloé resigned herself to a miserable school day.

---

After school, she walked into Marinette’s room and flopped dramatically onto the chaise, before letting out a long groan.

“That bad?” Mari chuckled as she scribbled sketched one-handedly in her design notebook.

“You have no idea.” Chloé responded.

Their conversation continued into mundane things, such as everyone’s patrol routes, and various theories on who Hawkmoth was. Totally normal topics for teenagers. As the day drew to a close, they made plans for everyone to come over to start packing the next day before Chloé left the bakery and headed home.

---

Come Saturday, Marinette, Chloé and Luka spent the morning playing board games one handed “to level the playing field” as Luka put it and eating lots of cookies and pastries-provided by Marinette’s parents of course. Adrien and Kagami were attending their various classes until afternoon, so the remaining three spent their time relaxing, and coming up with a list of things to pack for Mari’s stay in Gotham. Two o’ clock rolled around, and the bells over the bakery jingled to announce the arrival of the final members of the packing committee.

Any plans to begin their assignment of somehow fitting all Marinette’s fabrics into the suitcase were cut short by an Akuma.

They all transformed, even though Kagami and Luka has been extremely reluctant to let Mari go even though the suit temporarily healed her injuries. Climbing through her roof hatch, they set out across the rooftops to defeat their latest villain.

---

Five hours later, the teen heroes dropped into her room, and detransformed in various flashes of multicolored lights. They collapsed onto the bed and chairs and silently agreed to just sleep , and get the packing done the next day.

---

All of Sunday was spent throwing various clothes and accessories into Mari’s pink and black suitcase. There were several sweaters and hoodies (added by Chloé), as well as several leggings and many thick pajama pants (Sabine).

Adrien (with the help of Tom) had somehow managed to pack over ten different pun-covered t-shirts, and by the time they were discovered, they had been buried under piles upon piles of fluffy socks from Kagami. Luka also threw in some scarves before Marinette added some toiletries, her sewing kit, and her computer.

Picking up the backpack she had decided to use as a carry-on, Marinette rifled through it to make sure she had everything in there as well.

Spare change of clothes in case she loses her suitcase? Check. Phone, headphones, and charger? Check. Sketchbook and pencils? Check. Disguised Miracle Box? Check.

She turned to her family (Not her teammates, not her friends, but her family.) and smiled. It was small, and bittersweet, but it was a smile. “Alright guys, I guess I’m all set.” She said, before joining them all in a group hug. They offered her soft, tearful smiles before Tom carried her big suitcase down the stairs.

That night, Marinette fell asleep surrounded by all the people she loved, and she couldn’t have been happier.

---

The next day, her Papa carried her downstairs and placed her into her wheelchair (since she had a broken foot, and couldn’t use her leg, they had given her a wheelchair) before wheeling her outside and placing her into the car waiting by the street.

Her friends were all inside, and she gripped Adrien’s hand tightly as they drove to the airport.

As she stood to board the plane, she turned back to catch one last glimpse of them all. Chloé was leaning into Kagami’s side who was holding her girlfriend’s hand tightly. Adrien was waving wildly, and Luka and her parents all raised one hand in farewell. Her Maman and Papa has some red rimming their eyes, but they smiled at her as she was wheeled into the plane. Next stop: Gotham, New Jersey.

Since her flight left Paris at 10 AM, she was set to arrive in Gotham at around 12 PM/noon. With that in mind, she decided to stay awake for the entire flight so that her body could adjust better.

As they crossed the Atlantic, Marinette, sitting in first class thanks to Chloé and Adrien’s combined nagging; popped her earbuds in, and began to sketch.

She stared out the window as she touched down, shocked by all the dog and darkness in the city. As she collected her bags, and wheeled her way outside to look for her host family, she couldn’t help but notice how everyone in this city was much more on edge than most normal people. ‘They act as though they are expecting an attack at any second of the day.’ She mused to herself. Her train of thought was cut off by the sight of an elderly man with a powerful aura standing next to a limo with a sign saying “Marinette Dupain-Cheng”. She wheeled her way over to him and smiled brightly. “Salut! My name is Marinette! What is yours, Monsieur!” She questioned, holding out her hand for a handshake.

“It’s lovely to meet you Miss Marinette, my name is Alfred Pennyworth.” Alfred responded, smiling gently down at her. “Now let’s get you and your bags in the car, shall we?” He reaches out to shake her hand, and the moment their fingers touched her vision was filled with dark blue and red. She laughed and smiled up at him. “It is an honor to meet you, noble Peacock.” She greeted him in the Guardian language, honoring his position as a True Holder. “And it is an honor to meet you as well, Ladybug.” He answered. She grinned and allowed him to help her into the back of the limo before he climbed into the driver's seat and they sped off to Wayne Manor.

---

When he saw the young girl, Alfred was shocked to say the least. She was roughly 5’ 4” (162.5 cm), and was very petite. Her stature, combined with her wheelchair, wrist brace, and the cast on her leg, all strengthened his resolve to protect the young girl from any further harm. That was only intensified when their auras recognized each other. How could anyone place the responsibility of upholding balance on such a young child?

As he drove to the Manor, she informed him that the Cat, Bee, Dragon and Snake were active on her team. Before he could ask her what the threat they were battling was, they had arrived at the Manor, and she had immediately tensed and gone silent.

Deciding that it was better to ask more questions later, he got out of the car to retrieve her bags and chair. Master Bruce and three of his children except for Master Damian were waiting in front of the doors to the Manor, and they all waited patiently for her as she exited the car.

---

Marinette was nervous. Sure, taking to Monsieur Alfred was really fun, and she couldn’t wait to tell him more about Paris, but now she was meeting her actual host family! What if they didn’t like her? What if they decided to send her back?! Then what would she do?? A small cough interrupted her downward spiral, and she looked up from her lap to see Monsieur Alfred waiting in front of the open door with her wheelchair. Grabbing her backpack, she awkwardly maneuvered herself into the chair and allowed herself to be wheeled out in front so she could meet Monsieur Bruce Wayne.

---

Note: Alfred doesn’t know that Marinette is the Guardian. He just knows she’s a Ladybug holder.

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #time drake #jason todd #dick grayson #lila rossi #alya cesaire #lila salt #class salt

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milazka · 4 years

Text

Distraction — Drew Starkey.

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where the quaterback of the football team helps you forget about your bad grade.

request: yes

content: fluff & smut

author’s note: it’s my very first story about a member of the cast of outer banks! i would like to clarify that all this is fictional, i only use the looks and the names of the actors and actresses. my masterlist will be linked at the end of this story if you feel like reading some other fics. this one is for my babe cort ( @pogue-writings ) because she is drew’s soulmate.

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word Count: 1957.

The campus library has always been her favorite spot to study. It's quiet and the atmosphere is always soothing, the exact opposite of her dorm room where her roommate seems more interested in experimenting the male anatomy than studying it in her textbook. A few weeks ago, after catching her once again during the act, she had decided to find a new place to study. She had walked around the campus and eventually found this spot around one of the large hardwood tables that stand between the bookshelves full of old books about psychology. The perfect place to set her in a study mood.

For the past few hours, she has been sitting in her usual place, her textbook open in front of her eyes and her black notebook on her right. She only has one midterm left in two days and it will cover all the topics seen in her subconscious psychology course, which is one of her most interesting courses, but also the one that requires the longest hours of study in order to pass the exams.

The sound of a chair gliding on the floor makes her look up and she’s surprised to see Drew, a boy from her psychology of the subconscious class, sit on the chair in diagonal to her. Normally, the library is almost empty at this time of the night and she never saw him here; he seems like the kind of guy who spends more time on the football field than he does in front of his textbooks. They’ve been in the same class for four months, but she never really paid attention to him, except when he is disturbing the class with the two other musketeers, Chase and Rudy. She smiles nicely at him when their eyes meet and he raises his coffee cup which he pretends to drink all at once while they both laugh silently, hoping not to be warned by Mrs. Jones, the librarian who looks strangely similar to Roz from the movie Monster inc.

She tries to put her nose back in her book, trying to focus on the pages suggested in the study guide and highlighting important sentences from a passage about Freud and his discovery of psychoanalysis, but she can't help but look up discreetly at the boy. He is wearing a navy flannel shirt which, half-buttoned, reveals a white shirt that moulds his muscular chest. His trademark cap, which he always wears backwards, rests as usual on the top of his head, still letting a few strands of hair slip out of the hat. She particularly lingers on his muscled arms covered by the navy blue cloth, it's not surprising that he's the quarterback on the football team. The studious look on his face and the way he’s chewing on the tip of his pencil while frowning makes him look cuter than usual, she can’t deny it.

When she sees the lateness of the hour, she delicately puts her books back in her red bag, not noticing how intensely the boy is staring at her. He simply can't help but admire her sweet angelic face, her tired-looking little eyes, the thin, shiny layer of lip balm covering her lips that he would dream of kissing; he likes everything about her and cannot help but smile foolishly.

“Hey Y/n,” he whispers, catching her attention. “Me and the boys are throwing a party friday night, you should come.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she smiles at him, noticing his blushing cheeks and the little spark in his gaze.

“Great! Good luck on your exam.”

“Good luck to you too. I’ll see you friday.”

─── °• ❀ ───

The room goes from purple to blue, then from blue to pink, courtesy of the spotlights that change the colour of the room's luminosity along the rhythm of the music. The parties hosted by the university football team always do justice to their reputation, no matter what’s the occasion. It's not the first time she attends one, but it's the first time she’s been invited by the quarterback. Her mind did not stop playing back the memory of the little sparkle in the young man's eyes when she had accepted his invitation. Maybe it meant nothing, but a part of her wants to believe it didn't. Plus, she really needs to take her mind off things after receiving her mediocre grade from the last exam. She knew her teacher was strict, but not this strict.

As she makes her way through the dancing crowd, an arm slips around her naked shoulders, making her startles. She's used to being approached by boys at parties, but she hates it when they think they can do anything and touch her even if she doesn't want to. Looking up, she loosen up when she sees Drew's familiar face smirking at her and she's glad it's not a drunk who's asking her to blow him.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says to her as he hands her a red cup filled with beer. “How did your exam go?”

She pouts, taking a big sip of the golden liquid that tickles her throat.

“Really bad.”

“That sucks,” she raises an eyebrow at the boy as when he takes back the cup that he just gave her and drops it on the countertop behind him. “C’mon, I have the perfect remedy for a bad grade.”

Drew takes her tiny hand into his big one, guiding her to the backyard where several tables are set up to play beer pong. Small lights illuminate the yard where games have already started. People cheer each other up and yell like crazy when someone manage to get the ball in a cup. She recognizes Rudy’s familiar blond hair when he jumps into Jonathan's arms and she deduces they just won their game against Madison and Austin. Everyone laughs when the two boys lose their balance and crash into the grass, grunting at each other. Her hand is still holding Drew's firmly when he walks up to Chase who is sitting in a chair close to the fire pit with his girlfriend on his lap, grilling and eating marshmallows.

“Yo Chase! Me and Y/n vs Maddie and you?” Drew challenges his friend, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Game on, baby!” Chase exclaims as they both stand up and follow them to the table.

She and Drew make a fire team, throwing a series of winning shots and gradually getting Madelyn and Chase drunk. All the way through the game, she never worries about her bad grade, it's like it never existed. The alcohol in her bloodstream seems to be opening her eyes to Drew's attractiveness. The girl never really paid attention to how he is totally her type of guy. She bites her lower lip, obviously checking him out when he pulls off his hoodie and his shirt comes up, revealing the prominent V-shape above the hem of his pants.

“Like what you see, don't ya?” he teases the girl, an irresistible smile on the corner of his lips.

She blushes up to her ears, making Drew laugh, and he just adds to her embarrassment by putting his arm around her shoulders before throwing the last ball who lands directly into the last standing cup. Maybe it's the emotion of the moment for her, whereas he's been dreaming about it for months, but their eyes meet each other and suddenly their lips collide. The kiss doesn't last long, not long enough in his opinion. The flight of butterflies in the young woman's belly doesn't disappear when their lips separate, she needs to kiss him again, to feel him touch her.

“I need you, Drew.” she whines close to his ear, making his heart skips a beat. "God, Y/n," he breaths out, pulling her closer to him. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about you saying that to me?”

She just winks at him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the front door as he pinches himself on the arm, not believing that this is really happening. He throws a murderous look at Rudy and Chase who make fun of him by pretending to make out sensually. They pass through the living room which is still full of people swinging their bodies to the rhythm of the music and climb upstairs where Drew guides them to his room. He slams her against the door, his hands grabbing her hips as he kisses her again. She bites his lower lip, making him growl against her mouth. Drew starts to place open mouthed kisses on her neck and she tiltes it to give him full access to her burning skin. He leads her to the bed, pinning her on the mattress and he removes her short as he is now hovering over her half naked body. His hand slides down her thigh, making her squirm under him as he gets closer to her core. He plays with the waistband of her panties, smirking against her lips.

“Drew,” she moans, looking at him with her eyes filled with desire. He grabs her waist and flip them over so she is now straddling him. She unbuttons his khaki shirt, slipping his hands over his muscular chest. She starts to grind down on his lap, making him whine and dig his fingers into her buttcheeks

“It's not about me tonight, I'm not the one who needs to be distracted.” he whispers to her ear before flipping her over again so that he is now hovering over her.

She lets out a few muffled moans as he leaves a trail of kisses between her breast and on her stomach. He sucks and nibbles at the skin on her inner thighs, only increasing her desire to feel him on her already wet womanhood.

“You’re so pretty, all wet and spread out like this, just for me.”

“Drew, please…” she begs, but he cuts her short by placing a kiss on her clit, slipping her underwear off. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above her wet folds, making her buck her hips up.

“So eager, baby, I like it.” he hums just above her bundle of nerves, sending vibrations on it. She runs her fingers through his light brown hair, pushing him closer to her heat. He finally licks a full stripe through her folds, making her back arch to the so desired feeling.

“Oh fuck,” she groans as he inserts one finger in her, his tongue sucking on her clit. His hands are firmly wrapped around her thighs to keep her spread open for him. She clenches the sheets between her fists, her eyes close under the wave of pleasure that runs through her body when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. His nose rubs up against her clit as he moves his face, pumping his tongue in and out of her.

“Fuck I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she moans, making him pumps his tongue faster. A few profanities mixed with loud moans leave her lips as she reaches her high, legs shaking on his shoulders. He licks her folds a few more times to clean her up, sending electric jolts through her body when he touches her sensitive nerves from the orgasm. He lies down beside her, pulling her towards him with his arms wrapped around her body.

“What about you? I’m no the type of girl who doesn’t give back,” she starts but Drew shushes her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure you’re not, but tonight it’s about you and only you.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect, y’a know?”

“It was about time you figured that out!” he mocks her and she giggles, burying her face further into the crook of his neck.

─── °• ❀ ───

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.18 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has already dealt with the local sheriff about his adventures in the local woods. Seems like Edge might have a thing or three to say.

~~*~~

Read ‘Electric Boogaloo’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was funny how some things become automatic. Stretch was still thinking about Buford when Edge came into the store not long after the sheriff left. Still thinking about those strange white eyes of his, wondering at exactly how much he could see. How much, how far, how deep did it go. Stretch knew a little something himself about seeing a bit too much.

Still, habits were habits. Even though his mind wasn’t necessarily working in the here and now, Stretch automatically stood up straight and greeted Edge when he came in, customer service skills were a heck of a learned trait, even if he was the only one who worked here that had them.

“morning, hey, what’s up? what do you—" need, he didn’t get to say. He barely had time to notice that Edge didn’t look like his normal gorgeous self, hips notwithstanding. Sure, he was wearing his normal motorhuckle gear and he was walking like he was on his way to kill Captain America. But he looked pale, his skull chalk-white and stark, his eye lights faded to a shade closer to dull pink.

That wasn’t what cut off his ‘can i help you’ spiel. Nope, that was Edge stalking right over to the counter and around it into the register area. Stretch found himself roughly pulled into Edge’s arms and held in a painfully tight hug that nearly threatened to crack ribs.

Okay? This was new but fuck it if Stretch wasn’t going to go for it. He wrapped both arms around Edge and squeezed back, relished the feel of that long, lean body against his own, even buffered under a layer of leather. “um. hi?”

Edge said nothing, only held on, with all ten fingers digging in through the back of Stretch’s t-shirt and damned if he was gonna try fight his way loose. Was it his imagination or was Edge shaking a little? Or maybe that was the earth moving under his feet because Edge smelled so good, no bone cologne could compare. Like spice and woodsmoke, like the heavenly pies he made for Mama’s.

Nothing to be done for it, might as well dive into the deep end and see if he could drown. Stretch closed his sockets and basked in it, reveled in it. Maybe this was some weird frosting on top of an already bizarre cake but Stretch really wanted his slice.

After a minute, Edge was showing no signs of letting up and much as Stretch would’ve been perfectly fine standing like this all day, probably he should say something. It’d be pretty hard to run register if he was stuck to Edge like a conjoined twin and considering that they were sort of the same person, maybe better not to risk it.

It was just a damn shame that Stretch was so shitty at digging beneath the layers of other people’s traumas. Hell, he could barely take a shovel to his own.

He managed to work up enough air to wheeze out, “is…something wrong?” A horrible thought occurred. What if he wasn’t the only person the lady ghoul went to visit last night? Maybe she took the nickel tour of the woods, maybe Buford’s all-seeing eye blinked and missed something. “is frisk okay?”

“Yes,” Edge choked out. His voice was muffled into Stretch’s shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Stretch shifted in his arms and only managed about an inch in any direction. “don’t take this the wrong way, but as fine as this feels, you don’t seem fine.”

That didn’t get any reply. Instead, Edge loosened his grip just enough to press his face into the hollow of Stretch’s collarbone where he inhaled deeply, mouth opened as if he wanted to taste whatever scent gathered there, get the whole experience.

Um. Holy shit. Okay, well, that was a fetish Stretch never knew he had, and if he wasn’t pinned like a sardine in Edge’s kung-fu grip, he might’ve honest to angel flailed at the feel of damp, hot breath against his clavicles. Every time Edge decided to go through his scratch ‘n sniff routine, it sent willie wonkers tingling right up his spine and right down his pants. All he could do was grit his teeth and stare blankly up at the ceiling as he tried desperately not to embarrass himself any more than the usual.

Finally, all too soon, Edge drew away. He took two steps back, putting some distance between them. He seemed almost embarrassed now and Stretch could only reluctantly let him go.

He was really, really grateful for his work apron right about now; good for catching dust and gook, with a side bonus of hiding inconvenient boners. Hopefully it wasn’t the not-at-all-a-pencil-in-his-pocket that chased Edge away. “not that i mind, like, really not, but you think you could let me in on what that was all about?”

“I’m sorry,” Edge said, stiffly. He crammed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked anywhere but at Stretch.

“uh, nope,” Stretch shook his head, “no apologies, hugs are free real estate.” He’d been this close to Edge before a couple of times but always before there had been distractions. Now looking at him was the distraction and Stretch let his gaze linger on the razer-sharp lines of his cheekbones, the tight narrowing of his eye sockets. The crack that ran through his left socket was obviously old, the edges worn relatively smooth, smoother than their owner.

Edge still didn’t look at him, not directly, anyway. A flick of his eye lights towards Stretch, then back away as he said, tightly. “We came very close to losing you last night. It was…upsetting.”

Oh.

Well, good news traveled fast, didn’t it, basically at the speed of light around these parts. He wondered glumly if Red was in his apartment busily composing a profanity-laden symphony titled ‘I Told You So.’

“How did you know?” Stretch sighed out. Maybe Frisk was tuned in to the local airwaves or Edgar Allen might branch out into branches instead of corn gossip.

“Buford,” Edge admitted. “He is the town constable, he looks after the town. Literally, in his case.”

Also had a big mouth, seemed like. “yeah, uh, he showed me his eyes.”

“Did he?” Edge seemed surprised, then pleased. “He usually wears his sunglasses. He rarely takes them off when he’s on duty because outsiders tend to find his eyes unsettling. But yes, it’s his duty to watch out for problems and he does it well.”

Stretch nodded slowly, “must be tough on him sometimes, seeing all that.” He had a little personal experience in that.

“Buford does his duty,” Edge said with a certain finality. Welp, looked like that topic was done and Stretch was fine with that since Edge was starting to look a little calmer. His eye lights weren’t on Stretch’s but lower, focused more on the mouth region and when Stretch flicked his tongue across his teeth nervously, those crimson lights went heavy and dark.

To his disappointment, Edge didn’t go for Ginormous Hug 2: Electric Boogaloo. Instead, he reeled back, shaking himself visibly and turning towards the door. “Well. I only wanted to check in on you, I should be going.”

“wait!” Stretch blurted and Edge hesitated, raising one browbone. “don’t go, not yet.”

He waved a hand in offering at the stool behind the counter and after a moment of hesitation, Edge stepped around the dog and took it. Mutt never stirred, burrowed down in the blanket Red had laid down for him, snoring away. Good thing they hadn’t been in the market for a guard dog.

Stretch hopped up on the counter to sit, (hey, his butt was cleaner than the whole store had been when he first got here) and wondered what the hell to do now. He’d wanted Edge to stay and now he didn’t know what to talk about. Every other chat they’d had was about some kind of Backwater weirdness, the peanut butter and pickle sandwich version of a conversation. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to have a white bread and butter chat.

Edge seemed to agree. He swiped a finger along one of the shelves behind the counter and checked the results, finding it to be relatively dust-free. “The store is looking much better since my brother hired you on.”

“yeah,” Stretch latched on to that topic gratefully, it was marginally better than bringing up the weather. “try to keep up on it. he’s paying me well enough for it, plus room and board, figured i can do my mr clean impression.” He gave the top of his skull a pat. “i’ve already got the bald part down.”

Edge made a rough, scoffing sound and even that was somehow delicious in that voice of his. “I suspect most of what fills up your board comes from my kitchen.”

Stretch suspected the same but leapt to his landlord’s defense, anyway, he owned Red that much and more. “hey, red is a damn fine microwave wrangler when he puts his mind to it.” Okay, so that was less of a leap than a trip and miss, but he’d tried. Maybe better to steer the topic boat out of the rapids and into calmer water. “my bro likes to cook, too.”

“Is he very good?” Edge leaned forward curiously, propping his chin up on a hand.

Woah, wait, abandon ship, that was not calmer waters, that was a storm a’brewing, a freaking typhoon. “good is relative,” Stretch said stoutly.

“Ah,” One corner of Edge’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Rest assured, I would never force you to disparage your brother’s cooking. If it’s any comfort, my recipes were somewhat unique when we first came here as well. Like the garden, it took some time for my skills to come into bloom.”

“seriously?” There was a little too much naked relief in that one word but fuck it, Blue wasn’t here to hear it, “so how many years until he’s less ‘nailed it’ and more ‘chef’s table’?”

That half-smile widened. “Time is also relative, as are brothers. How is your brother, I’m assuming he’s still back in Ebott. Have you spoken to him since you came here?”

Welp, he’d avoided the storm only to end up in shark-infested waters, wasn’t that just his luck, “sort of,” Stretch hedged.

Edge’s teeth parted in a silent ‘ah’ as he successfully decoded that message. “You texted him. Well, that’s better than leaving him completely in the dark.”

“i think he’s doing okay. he was even before i left.” He really hoped so, but then, Blue settled in easily enough from the start. From the Human’s perspective, his bro looked a little like he’d stepped out of some kind of cartoon. He was small and adorable, his starry eye lights in his huge sockets were as cute as if Disney blessed him from beyond the grave. Stretch didn’t begrudge his brother for that, ‘course he didn’t, but that didn’t make his own experiences easy cheesy. “frisk was pretty right about ebott. when it comes to monsters, it sure isn’t backwater.”

“I’m sorry.” Said with enough quiet sincerity to make Stretch shift uncomfortably.

He shrugged weakly. “eh, not your fault.”

“No, but I can still let you share your pains.” Edge reached up and took his hand. He rubbed a scarred thumb gently over his knuckles and Stretch caught his breath. “You know, I used to dream about coming to the surface. Back in my world, in the Underground. Frisk told you that it was a place of LV, not love. My brother and I spent much of our time there simply struggling to survive.” The reminiscence in Edge’s voice held no hint of fondness, but there was a certain faint wistfulness. “I had such grand dreams of what the surface world would be like back then. Hope was difficult to come by in my universe, I never truly believed a human would come and when they did, well.” Edge chuckled and there was the fondness missing from before. “Frisk was not at all what I imagined.”

“did the surface world live up to your dreams?” Stretch asked, curiously. His own dreams of the Aboveground were shaken to their foundations barely an hour into the sunlight, when the first Humans to arrive greeted them not with welcome, but with automatic rifles.

“In some ways,” Edge said. “Mostly, it’s very different from what I imagine. But like Frisk, not necessarily in a bad way.”

“ebott is sure fucking different then i imagined,” Stretch only realized how hard he was squeezing Edge’s hand when both of their joints popped. He loosened his grip, then pulled away entirely, picking up the pen from the counter to fiddle with; at least if he broke that, he’d be the only one stained. “doesn’t matter, anyway. i’m not there right now, am i.”

“Indeed not. You’re here, and Backwater is probably as different from Ebott as it is the Underground.” Edge stood in a jangling, creaking rhapsody of leather and buckles. “On that note, I do need to get going.”

Stretch stood too, hopping down from the counter. Much as he’d like Edge to stay, he did have some work to get done and who knew what Edge needed to get back to. “thank you for checking in on me.”

“Of course.” Too fast for Stretch to do more than blink, Edge leaned in and Stretch stood frozen as he pressed a chaste kiss to his cheekbone, the delicate scrape of his teeth almost ticklish against sensitive bone. He pulled back before Stretch managed to gather up all his scattered wits, and his smile was the soft, real one as he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

“soon,” Stretch parroted dumbly. He stood there like an idiot and watched Edge leave, only coming back to himself at the jangle of the bell over the door. Then he cursed himself, roundly and in every language he knew, including modified flamespeak. Smooth moves, there, Marvin Gaye, couldn’t even turn your head for a real kiss? Just stood there with crotch plug store book and didn’t even try to kick it up a notch? But he’d gotten one hell of a hug and a hand fondle, that was worth nearly getting eaten by Lady Cthulhu out there.

Well, almost.

“mind not getting your sop all over my counter?”

Stretch whirled around, barely managing not to trip over his own feet, to see Red standing in the hallway entrance. He was leaning heavily on his cane with a brutally unimpressed look on his face.

Fuck.

“i’m sorry—” Stretch began and faltered, unsure of what to say. He’d tried to listen to Red, he really had. He’d warned Stretch against starting anything with his bro from the beginning, offered plenty of warnings against rebound fucks and people getting hurt, and Stretch had tried. Except he hadn’t, had he, not really, and he could try to blame Edge’s hips and that gorgeous voice all he wanted; in the end, it was his fault, just like everything else. He hadn’t really been fighting that hard, why would he, it wasn’t like he wanted to win.

Red only sighed heavily and waved him off. “ain’t nothing to be sorry for. toldja before, i ain’t worried about my bro. you’re the one keepin’ me awake at night.”

“speaking of worrying,” Stretch took a deep breath before plunging forward, away from the sharks and heading into the shallows where the piranhas swam. “look, before anyone else decides to spill the beans, i need to tell you something.”

Red held up a hand and Stretch fell silent. “lemme get my coffee first.”

Coffee sounded better than it had any right to and, in his chest, Stretch’s soul gave an uncomfortable lurch like it could hop out and get a cup of its own. Hopefully, he asked, “can i get some?”

“yeah, sure,” Red turned back towards the apartment and tossed back over his shoulder, “whatcha want in it?”

“honey?” May as well dream big.

“yeah, darlin’?”

What? ”No!” Stretch blurted. “I mean…I didn’t…”

“yeah, yeah,” Red snickered. “i gotcha, brat.”

It was both entirely too long and much too quickly that Red made his way back with two heavy white mugs that looked as if they’d been stolen from Mama’s diner. He handed one to Stretch and settled in to lean against the counter, sipping from his own. “so, this about why you and my bro were cozying up behind the counter?”

“uh, sort of,” Stretch hedged. He stalled by taking a sip of his coffee, glorying in the thick, over-sweetened brew. “he came by because buford got a hold of him.”

Red lurched upright as if someone goosed him right on his tailbone. Hot coffee sloshed over his hand and he hissed, shaking his wet, stinging fingers as he demanded, “he did what now? what the fuck happened?”

“it’s not that bad.”

It was a weak attempt at best, not that it mattered. Red didn’t fall for it in the slightest. He didn’t move, there was no noticeable change in his breathing or posture, but the sardonic humor that seemed to cling to Red like another shirt evaporated entirely and left behind nothing but cold sincerity. “buford don’t exactly text, he don’t get ahold of anyone unless—” Red stopped and gave Stretch a coolly assessing glance that he squirmed beneath. Quietly, he said, “kid, what did you do?”

“i didn’t do it!” Stretch blurted and no amount of defending himself to his own brother or even the Ebott police could have prepared him for this. “the dog ran off, but i didn’t go into the woods! not until—there was this…this thing!” Stretch gestured wildly, trying ineffectively to convey with skinny bone hands the shadowy, awful creature that lured him into the dark last night. He couldn’t hold back a shudder of revulsion, simply thinking about it was filling him with a renewed sense of horror. “it looked like a woman and then it didn’t, she was singing, she was doing something, and i couldn’t stop myself, i couldn’t even think!”

He stopped, panting, and Red said nothing. He only stood there statue-still and Stretch would have given about anything for the door to open, the bell to jangle as someone looking for a fresh supply of ass wipers broke that awful silence.

Desperately, Stretch pressed on, letting out a nervous laugh. “anyway, i’m okay. she didn’t touch me or bite me or anything. i got out okay.” He didn’t mention the bone dragon, wasn’t even sure why, but Red was still frozen and silent over hearing about one terrifying encounter, maybe better not to mention two.

“red?” Stretch tried, hating how his voice sounded so small and forlorn. In a dismal corner of his mind, he was already mentally packing his bags. He couldn’t go back to Ebott, not now, not yet, but where else could he go, what other job could he possibly find? Maybe a waiter at Mama’s or maybe the thrift shop needed a helping hand. He didn’t know. The little money he had wouldn’t last long and definitely not in a bigger city. He didn’t really have any options, no choices at all.

He jerked back as Red suddenly jolted into movement, limping around the counter without his cane. He staggered almost drunkenly and then swung around to violently ram his fist into the first rack of the shelves. The wooden frame rocked and groaned, scattering boxes and cans to the floor on either side. A small bag of cornmeal fell and burst open, scattering dusty yellow across the floorboards.

“i…i’ll just…” Stretch couldn’t say go, he couldn’t, saying it would make this real, and he couldn’t let it be real. He took a step towards the hallway, tasting heavy tears on the back of his tongue.

Red’s voice stopped him, “kid.”

Stretch stood there and watched Red wrap both arms around himself. The fingers of one hand were streaked with marrow, he’d probably cracked his phalanges, but Red only shuddered faintly, drawing in a long breath and letting it out in a shaky rattle as he said, “if i’d’ve known she was awake, i woulda warned ya.”

Oh.

Oh, that made a terrible amount of sense and it didn’t make Stretch feel one fucking bit better to realize that Red wasn’t mad at him.

“it’s fine, red,” Stretch said, gently. It was hard to bank his own fears, but he managed, “it’s not your fault. i’m okay.”

Red heaved out a hitching little sigh and Stretch didn’t need Buford’s powers or his own magic to see that Red didn’t believe that, not even a little.

“okay,” he muttered under his breath, low and indistinct, “okay, okay.” Then louder, “okay, kid, get on out of here.”

“you’re firing me?” Stretch blurted, horrified. He’d begun to believe it was all right, more fool he, hadn’t he had the rug ripped out from under him enough times by now, when would he ever learn?

“what?” Red said, aghast. “fuck no! take a little time off, is all, after a shitty night like that, you need it. go see a movie, ‘wizard of oz’ ’s playin’, think it’ll be right up your alley.”

Relief left him weak, but he made no move towards the door. “but. your hand?”

“what about my hand?” Red raised his browbones and his hand at once and Stretch stared at the clean, pristine bones in confusion, what the fuck, he was sure he’d seen—

“okay, but,” Stretch still didn’t want to leave, some part of him vaguely convinced that if he left he wouldn’t be able to come back, like this shabby little store was some kind of fae place. “here, let me clean up.”

“i can fucking clean,” Red said impatiently. “been doing it since long before you got here.” He hooked his perfectly unbroken thumb at the door, “now, git! scoot!”

It seemed better not to comment on Red’s cleaning skills. Stretch hung up his apron and obediently scooted while Red limped over to the broom.

Outside, the temperature was just above a swelter. Stretch headed towards the theater even as the kids pulled up by the shop and dropped their bikes to head in, about five minutes too late.

Red had the right idea, he decided tiredly. A movie sounded like a good idea right about now. If, that was, he could stay awake through the opening credits.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #welcome to backwater

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feeling--pink · 4 years

Photo

Hello and welcome to I redid my age up designs because I wanted to and so I did!!!!!!!!!! :D

uhhhhhhhhh explanations under the cut as per usual!!! :D

Officially speaking: shoot I figured out what I forgot

Okay so whenever I’m drawing I always forget SOMETHING right? That’s just a thing people deal with??

Anyways I forgot the FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS (except for Huey)

It’s very important that they all have friendship bracelets but I drew this over such a long period of time that I completely forgot to give it to people where it would be visible (i.e. Dewey, Boyd, kinda Lena)

It was almost important enough for me to go back but oh my gosh these pictures literally took an hour and I'm not doing that again very sorry

just: they’re there!!!!!! I promise!!!! Its just.... invisible.....

skdhjfgk okay sorry onto the actual thing

In order of left to right also known as height order!

Huey

I didn't change much from my first time doing this!

Basically I gave him a dress shirt and a sweater vest :D

The key difference this time is that last time I made the undershirt red and the sweater vest burgundy!

This time I made the undershirt pink!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Y’all that pink Huey trend from a little while ago was my life force

I hecking love the color pink so much

Anyways!! Moving on: he’s the shortest lol

As I have said before “Older Sibling Culture is being shorter than your younger siblings (I would know)”

But!!! I do love the concept fo Tall and Stronk Huey so he is actually very strong!!!

Instead he’s Short and Stronk!!!!!

Webby and Boyd are the only one’s physically stronger than him but that’s because of spy training and literally being a robot (respectively)

But yes!!! Huey in a sweater vest and also very strong are important concepts so I did that here!!!!!

(hmmn.... sweater vest,, nerd,,, weirdly strong,,,,,,, oh no I turned Huey into Chidi Anagonye klsdfjhgkakjahs)

Webby

y’all I messed up so much on this one

literally so many times

since you’re reading this I'll let you in on a secret

that may not be that secret ksdjfhlkds

Anyways if you look closely at Webby you’ll probably see some weirdly placed lines

specifically around her face, shirt, hand, etc.

basically I messed up enough that I thinned the paper significantly from erasing (multiple, separate times)

so I had so go in and paste another layer of paper over the thinned layer kjjdkahfgs

But enough about me messing up!! what’s with this outfit?

This one’s mostly about Vibes

I wanted to give off a femme lesbian vibe but still keep that formality we see in Webby’s regular outfit!

Hopefully I achieved that!!!

This is one of the outfits I resigned completely from last time btw

The old one was fine but looks kinda weird to me now so this!!!

Oh yeah and I love long hair Webby a lot!!! So I included that!!!!

Louie

Louie is probably the one I changed the most about that still resembles the original design

Both times I gave him a button up for an undershirt

this is ‘cause I see y’all giving him suit jackets for when he’s an adult and he needs a middle stage before that

skdfjs- a middle evolution if you will jkadfhgkjhsfdka

But instead of a slip on hoodie over that I went with a zip up jacket because that’s just more practical y’know?

Also cheek tufts!!!!!

I had them last time too but I love seeing adult louie with full cheek tufts so middle evolution effect comes into play again!!!

He and Webby are pretty much the same height right now btw

If you want to get technical about it Louie’s about a millimeter taller though!

I think that’s all I have for him though!

Gosalyn

Okay so I barely changed anything from last time for Gosalyn

Mr reasoning behind her outfit is mostly that I wanted a flannel gay and Gos was the obvious choice for that

and I liked that decision so I kept with it!!!

Main differences this time include: hair and shoes

So for the original hair I wanted to give her the “bisexual haircut” and I do like Gos with short hair so I kept that!

But I was having a hard time figuring out how to draw her regular bang situation so I went with a totally different style instead!

But I have sense learned how to draw her hair from the show so I incorporated that instead!

In the original I also had her wearing shoes! I changed that this time because I forgot to give her shoes until it was too late! jksdafhg

Yeah this happens often kdsjhvfkajl (mostly with Lena)

Lena

Oh boy where to begin!

In the original my one and only goal was to make Lena look like as much of a Lesbian as possible

And I achieved that much!!!!!!

But in doing so I neglected to make it look like Lena

I mean well it looked like her but it didn’t give off her complete vibe y’know?

So instead of a Hawaiian shirt gay I made her a leather jacket gay!!! Much more Lena in my opinion! :D

I based her hair off of my interpretation of her Phantom and the Sorceress hair! (I know it looks nothing like it but thats how I draw it so???)

In the original I made her hair fade from pink to blue as well and I liked that so I kept it!!

Then I kept the blue button up undershirt!!

I thought about giving it pinstripes but I don't have a thin enough pen or pencil to pull that off so I didn't :P

Hint of her old green shoes coming from the sock color!

And then finally: stompy boots

Just to tie it all together! :D

Dewey

This man is LANKY!!!!!!!!!!

sorry I don't make the rules

Well technically I do sense I drew the thing- but thats unimportant!!!!

Dewey gets to be tall to annoy his brothers but in return he is LANKY tall

Otherwise I largely followed my original design!!

All my reasons for the original were solely based off of ✨Vibes✨

I did change a few things though!

For example: last time I gave him a 3/4 sleeve short and this time I just made them regular short sleeves

Last time I meant to give him shoes but I forgot so this time I didn't forget!! :D

Also cool socks!!

Oh and I added fingerless gloves!!!!!!!!

This is once again based solely on ✨Vibes✨

I can’t put a lot of my reasons into words but I personally think I captured the theater kid meets aspiring pilot meets best friend to super hero’s sidekicks meets adventurer vibe pretty well!!

Boyd

!! Okay I’m excited to get into this one!

In my original Boyd was the shortest because technically he can pick his own height being a robot and all

BUT for that same reason I made him tall because: he wants to be tall like Gyro

The idea that Boyd wants to be tall like Gyro is literally so cute yall

I also based his outfit largely off of Gyros!!!

That is: dress shirt, vest, bowtie, pants

But in Boyd’s color scheme! :D

I’m still working out how to Not to make Boyd look like a popcorn bucket but that’s a problem for another day!

Violet

To start off: literally nothing was changed from the original

akjfdsghkskhal I’m serious no color changes, no outfit elements, nothing

I liked the original one a lot so I just kept it and redid it for this!!

My inspiration for the original was as follows: ✨Librarian Vibes✨

And I think I achieved that with the original so I hope I achieved it here as well!!

Also Violet is TALL

She’s the tallest now and will continue to be the tallest!!!

I mean just LOOK at her dads!!!! They’re SUPER tall!!

So therefore she gets to be tall too!!!!!!!!!

And I think that’s it!! Thank you so much for reading if you got this far!!!!!!!!! :D

Have a nice day folks! :D

#huey duck #webby vanderquack #louie duck #gosalyn mallard #lena sabrewing #dewey duck #boyd gearloose #violet sabrewing #my art stuff #age up designs #uhhhhh idk what to say down here I kinda covered it all in the keep reading section #hope everyones having a nice day btw! :)

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fireblaze5555 · 4 years

Text

The Dress

Got distracted and finished this instead of working on the final chapter of another fic. Oops.

Also on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24970231

Rated: Explicit

There was a light knock at Frank’s door. Glancing over he sat his coffee down on the island next to the spread out files and strode over to check the peephole. He saw a flash of blonde as expected and swung the door open.

Karen gave him a sweet smile, “Your help has arrived. Did I miss anything good?” She stepped in, kissing him quickly before breezing the rest of the way into the apartment.

He started to answer but then he noticed the flowy mid-thigh dress she was wearing. It was black with white flowers printed across it and it hugged her breasts and waist perfectly before it flared over her hips, swirling around her thighs as she walked. Frank couldn’t focus long enough to answer her, he was mesmerized by those long pale legs, from her delicate ankles wrapped in strappy wedge heels up to where her smooth thighs disappeared in the flowing skirt.

Finally tearing his eyes away from her legs, he saw that she was looking at him expectantly. His voice cracked a little when he answered, “Uh...no. New info is on the right there, let me know if that adds up with what you’ve found. You want some coffee?”

She raised an eyebrow at him but turned and strode over to the island to glance at the files. Her voice was distracted as she scanned over everything, “Yeah coffee would be great, thank you.”

Taking another quick second to admire how perfectly that dress fit her and how her long legs looked impossibly more so in those heels, Frank shook his head and stepped over to make her a coffee. You invited her over to work on a case, not fuck her with your eyes. You can mess around later, get your shit together asshole. They had been together for a few months now but he still primarily saw her in office attire, though those pencil skirts were distracting enough on their own, it was a pleasant surprise to see her in a dress. He was racking his brain to remember if she told him what her plans had been today and why she would be dressed up.

Setting her cup down in front of her he cleared his throat, “You look nice, what’s the occasion?”

Karen glanced up distractedly and gave him a small smile as she took the cup. “Foggy and Marci put on a benefit for a local kids charity and asked me to come and put together a little piece on it to run in The Bulletin.” She hummed appreciatively when she took a drink of coffee, “I’m glad you texted though, if I had to talk to one more rich businessman or lawyer talk about how charitable they are and ‘yes I just love helping kids and the less fortunate. Oh by the way, would you like to come see my penthouse, lakehouse, yacht etc, etc.,’ I was going to take my shoe off and beat someone with it.”

Frank let out a low laugh at her incredible imitation of the upper echelon of the city and couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest. A possessive part of him wished he could have been there to put those assholes in their place but he couldn’t blame the men for trying, she was fucking gorgeous, the dress not withstanding. Add the dress to the mix and you have one devastatingly attractive woman, one that didn’t give a shit about them or their money and left a swanky party to come to be with him in his run down apartment. Why the hell she deigned to be with him is beyond his comprehension but anytime he questioned it she just shook her head, kissed him, and went on about her day. So he wasn’t going to tempt fate by asking again.

Frank watched her for a moment, clear blue eyes scanned details, silky hair slid over her shoulder and when she shifted it made his eyes drop to the ample cleavage the dress provided as she bent over the island. Suddenly, the case was seeming less and less important.

Fuck it. Stepping around the island, Frank stood right behind Karen and rested his hands on the counter on either side of her hips as his chest pressed into her back. He leaned over her shoulder as though he were looking over the documents as well but didn’t bother trying to take in any details. Instead, he pressed his lips to her shoulder and moved his hands from the counter to her hips.

He smirked against her skin when he heard her quick inhale, though she continued to read, jotting some notes in the margins of one of the pages. Well that just wouldn’t do. Frank squeezed her hips lightly before dragging his hands down, his callouses catching here and there on the soft fabric. Pink was spreading down her neck and across her shoulders and from his vantage point where his lips were still dragging over her shoulder, he could see her chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly now but she still didn’t move her eyes from the documents.

His wandering hands had reached her legs and were bunching the fabric of the skirt up so he could skim his fingers over the smooth skin of her upper thigh. His mouth had reached her neck, teeth dragging lightly and he delighted in the shiver he felt run through her body.

“Frank.” She cleared her throat as he hummed in acknowledgment, “I thought we were working on a case?” Her voice was breathy and the way it caught when he began to drag his hands up her thighs, bringing the skirt with them, had him hardening rapidly.

“We are working on the case. We’ve got the files,” he said, his voice rough as he nipped just below her ear, “the coffee,” a swipe of his tongue, “and you’re even taking notes.” His fingers had reached her hips and skimmed over her pantyline underneath the skirt. Frank had to bite back a groan when her hips tipped back putting her ass flush with his groin.

A breathy laugh escaped her and she pushed more firmly into him, no doubt feeling how hard he was through his jeans. “Well, that sounds like I’m working on the case and you’re slacking off.”

Frank chuckled darkly as he sucked at the skin where her neck met her shoulder, one hand gripped her hip, holding her firmly against him while the other slid into her underwear. He watched in satisfaction as her own hands stopped to grip the edge of the counter tightly. He practically purred against her skin, “Well, then I think you deserve a reward.”

The purr turned into a growl when he ghosted over her slit and could already feel how wet she was getting. He teased over her lips, reveling in the needy little noises she was making as his fingers continued to dance around their destination. Finally, Frank parted her folds and slid a skillful finger over clit and drew a soft moan from Karen. He had to close his eyes for a moment and just appreciate how good she felt, her firm ass pressed against his dick and her core wet and hot against his fingers.

“Would you like a reward Karen?” Frank was impressed that his voice was so steady because he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Every fiber of his being was nearly vibrating with the need to be inside her, his previous mission completely forgotten for this one. He circled over her nub, every little twitch he got from her feeding his need, before he dipped his fingers down to push into her slowly. The sound she made was delicious.

Frank rutted against her in time with the deep thrusts from his fingers and he felt her starting to flutter around his digits. He slowed, “You didn’t answer me Karen, would you like a reward?”

Cursing quietly, Karen tried to push back into him to gain back some of the friction that was lost. When Frank wasn’t caving she growled out, “God, yes, just fuck me already!”

He didn’t have to be told twice. In record time, Frank had shucked off her panties, dropped his pants and rucked that sinful dress up over her hips. His hand returned to stroke over her clit as he pushed into her waiting heat, in a few strokes he was buried to the hilt, his forehead pressed to her neck while Karen was pushing greedily into him.

“This fucking dress.” He growled clenching it in one hand at her waist as he ground into her.

Karen let out a breathy laugh in between moans, “I like this dress so don’t go all caveman on it.” She had tried to sound commanding but it came out airy and quiet.

“I like it too, I think I have a new personal favorite. I just don’t think it will be good for our productivity.” Frank punctuated the statement with a sharp, deep thrust he knew would drive her crazy.

He wasn’t disappointed, Karen arched into him with a cursing moan scrambling for grip on the kitchen island. Frank let out a dark chuckle when he did it again and papers scattered around them at her frantic movements, one hand sliding up her waist and pulling the cup of the dress aside to roll a nipple between his fingers. When Karen couldn’t get good enough purchase on the kitchen island she reached a hand behind her to bury her fingers in Frank’s hair. She couldn’t get a good grip with the military cut he kept but was able to drag her nails across his scalp which turned his deep laugh to a purr. The man did love her hands in his hair.

Karen continued to arch into him, meeting every thrust with a slow rotation of her hips, all the while making little noises and taking stuttering breaths that had Frank fighting to keep control. The hand torturing her breast slid to the other side, not bothering to pull the dress down this time, simply sliding under the fabric to roughly knead the neglected peak. He could feel the fullness of it in his palm and groaned appreciatively when her hand came up to cover his, encouraging him to continue massaging her flesh. He was overcome for a moment on how one person could be so damn sexy. Her head had fallen back so he could see her swollen, pink bottom lip, one she had no doubt been dragging through her teeth to keep her wonton noises to a minimum. Her graceful neck was arched and he followed the line of it down to where her exposed breast bounced with each hard thrust he gave. Her ass was firm with just the right amount of give when his hips met hers and don’t even get him started on her her toned, mile long legs in those fuck me heels.

“Christ, you’re so damn sexy.” he muttered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind her ear, his voice husky and strained.

“Fr-...Frank, I’m so close.” Karen gasped, the hand over his on her breast clenching and releasing with the waves of her pleasure.

Abruptly, Frank slowed the harsh thrusts to slow, torturous slides causing Karen to whimper in protest, pushing back into him to try and find the tempo he had so suddenly shifted from.

Releasing her breast, Frank dropped his hand back to her waist to hold her in place while he continued the slow push and pull.

He nipped at her ear when she made another impatient noise, “Shh, I’ve got you, you’ve gotta be patient.” His voice was warm whiskey and honey and it sent a delicate shiver through her. The next returning thrust was just as slow but once he was completely buried in her heat, Frank lifted on to the balls of his feet to grind into her, slowly changing the angle as he lifted. He accomplished what he was hoping to because she let out a gasp as his cock seemed to be hitting every spot she needed at once. He repeated the process several times, driving them both towards their breaking point.

His fingers kept an equally slow punishing rhythm on her clit, sliding around the nub as he withdrew nearly completely from her before dragging his thumb over it firmly when he pushed back in, lifting up to grind into her fully.

Frank felt her starting to flutter around him and felt his control slip. He went into a frenzied pace, back to the quick deep thrusts from before, this time the hand at her hip suddenly went to her shoulder, pulling her down into him with each rough stroke.

Karen let out a choking moan as her release hit her, her whole body seizing with the intensity of the pleasure pouring through her veins. He continued to pound into her through her release, using the hand on her shoulder to help ease her down onto the island. She appeared boneless and sated, bent at the waist so her chest was pressed to the counter and her ass was beautifully presented to him, soft moans still escaping her lips.

Frank felt his own orgasm creeping in, pressure building at his lower back and what felt like electricity running through every cell. Both of his large hands went to her waist and he marvelled for a moment at how his scarred, tanned skin contrasted with the flawless alabaster of hers. Grasping the supple flesh of her hip, Frank pulled her back into each thrust, a growl reverberating in his chest. It was a simple look that threw him over the edge, Karen looking at him over her shoulder, all wide blue eyes, parted full lips and disheveled blonde hair that had him spilling into her with a low growl. He was sure his grip would leave bruises on her delicate skin but he couldn’t seem to let go as he rode out the rest of his release with shallow thrusts.

Spent, Frank leaned forward, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades and released a ragged breath. He rested there for a moment before he felt her moving under him, a small laugh reverberating through her. Sitting back up slowly, he looked at her profile with curiosity.

Karen looked at him out of the corner of her eye from where her head rested on one of her arms, gesturing with her other hand to the side, amusement evident in her voice, “We spilled my coffee.”

Sure enough, when Frank looked over to where she indicated, her mug had been upended, the contents spilled across several pages before it dripped slowly to the floor.

Giving his own soft laugh, Frank moved the hair from the nape of her neck to place an open mouth kiss there before standing once again and carefully pulling out of her. His male pride preened at her contented sigh and the boneless way she came up to her elbows, the skirt of her dress sliding down to flutter around her thighs once more.

“I guess we will have to get you a fresh cup and reprint some of those documents.” He said, voice low and sated.

He took a half step back, pulling his pants back up but not bothering to fasten everything back in place yet. Karen turned in front of him, leaning in to place a lingering kiss on his lips, a mischievous smile in place when she leaned back.

“So...when I want to distract you from something, this will do the trick, huh?” She gestured to the dress.

Frank clicked his tongue at her, the corner of his mouth ticking up before nudging her away from the counter. “Don’t get any smart ideas, Page.” He turned to grab some paper towels to start cleaning up the spilled coffee. “I’ll clean this up while you clean up and then we can try to look this over again.”

When he turned back, Karen was naked in just her heels, the offending dress in a pile on the floor and the evidence of their previous activity on her thighs as she regarded him with a hand on her hip.

“Or, we could clean up together and see where the afternoon goes from there?” She suggested with a sultry smile before she turned and made her way toward the bathroom.

Frank watched, transfixed as her hips swayed and her perfect ass bounced with each step. Karen gave him one last look before she disappeared into the bathroom, door left wide open.

In an instant, the paper towels had been tossed somewhere, he didn’t bother to look where they landed and he was making his way across the room, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

It was much later that night before they finally got back to the case files.

#Kastle #frank castle #karen page #smut #no plot

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Nothing Else Compares

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Atlantis- The Lost Empire

Characters: Milo, Kida

Hi, guys! I wrote this for a Atlantis zine I’m trying to apply for, so I thought I’d share <3

Milo barely registered the burning of his calves and thighs as he squatted beside the large, lily-covered pond stretching out before him. Throughout his stay in Atlantis, Milo’s physique had considerably improved thanks to frequent hiking, swimming, and climbing. Still, even the stoutest muscles would complain after being stretched for thirty minutes without rest. The dull ache was far from Milo’s mind, for he was far too captivated by the beautiful fish gliding just below the still surface of the pond. His pencil sailed over the notebook pages. He continuously sketched the gorgeous creatures and recorded the aspects of their behavior, not wishing to miss a single detail in his rapt scientific study.

The creatures much resembled the koi fish of the surface world, but they’d evolved a little differently due to the unique mesocosm of the rich waters of the Atlantean pond. Rather than the gold, black, orange, and white variations of patterning expressed by their overworld counterparts, the fish’s scales were dynamic arrangements of sapphire blue, cerulean, white, lavender, black, and violet. Nothing in the surface world came close to the elegant beauty of the gorgeous fish serenely circling the pond. Milo wondered if the surrounding underwater vegetation contributed to the adaptation. The seaweed rooted in the muddy bottom of the bond wasn’t any shade of green, but hued with deep purples and blues. That’s only speculation, of course… I’ll have to carefully observe their behavior to see if they utilize the seaweed for camouflage, he thought as he tapped the end of his pencil against his lips.

As his mind trailed off following the thought, Milo finally became aware of his thigh muscles’ screaming agony. Groaning, the academic slowly eased himself down on his rump, ultimately alleviating the pressure on his lower extremities. He could swear he heard the cells audibly sigh in relief, and the pain eased back into a dull, pounding ache. He set his notebook down to massage the distressed meat of his legs while casting a glance at the surrounding area. Milo had spotted the glittering fish first, so he’d neglected to drink in the environment around their secluded little pool.

The pond was fed by freshwater from the mountains trickling through the crevices of the smooth, rounded rocks piled on the north end of the area. Multiple streams dribbled through the tightly-packed stones to feed into the large pond, filling the air with the pleasant babbling of the water. The stone face extended out on either side of the fishpond, where thin, twisted, gnarly trees clung to the wet surfaces with a labyrinthine network of roots that bored into the rock face. Spongy, light green moss coated every inch of the rock where the tree roots didn’t permeate. White-gray lichens draped from the spindly tree branches like curtains; they ruffled in the breeze, making the trees resemble ghostly wisterias leaning over the pond.

Milo took a few minutes to scrawl the habitat across two pages of his notebook, just in case he needed it for future reference. The forest echoed with rustles and snaps and trilling bird calls, as all forests rich with life do. Gradually, a series of small susurrations and snapping twigs peeled Milo’s attention from his observations, making him glance over his shoulder into the underbrush to see who- or what- was approaching. A bright smile alit his face as Kida’s graceful form slipped out from underneath some elephant-ear plants to pad into the clearing.

“Oh. Here you are, Milo,” she smiled pleasantly. “I see you’ve found something new today.” Milo nodded and eagerly gestured for Kida to approach so he could regale her with his scientific observations. The white-haired woman strolled across the clearing to sink onto her knees beside him, leaning over his shoulder so she could have a clear view of the graphite-covered pages.

“Look, look! So, this lily system-” he gestated wildly at the collection of green lily pads floated serenely across the pond surface, blooming with lavender-colored flowers. “-is an effective filtration and aeration system for the pond, which only gets limited oxygenation by the addition of the small trickles of water from the streams…” Kida listened attentively as he lectured on all his discoveries and assumptions, her bright eyes scanning the words and diagrams while considering his speech. Kida wasn’t nearly as passionate about science as Milo, but she never berated or ignored him, and often posed some theories or considerations. It was just another small thing in a great list of many that made him hopelessly in love with the Atlantean queen.

“And, that’s as far as I’ve gotten,” he finished with a huff, snapping the book shut and smiling expectantly at her.

“Not bad for forty-five minutes,” Kida chuckled appreciatively. With a contented sigh, she leaned back on her hands and stretched her tanned legs out to soak up the relaxed atmosphere of the secluded little ecosystem. Her blue eyes beheld the assortment of lilies floating languidly across the pond surface with untroubled tranquility. Milo drew his knees up to his chest and leaned his cheek against his forearm with an endeared smile, watching Kida survey the area. After several minutes of comfortable silence, her sky-blue eyes flickered to her peripheries, and she grinned playfully.

“Want to go for a swim?”

An electric pulse of excitement propagated across every nerve junction of his body. There were no insinuations or innuendos contained within Kida’s simple question; it just reminded him of one of their first times alone, when they’d dived into the lake to swim down into the hidden cavern. Who knew that such a small event would trigger such chaos and drama? Milo reminisced silently in his head, drifting off into space as he so often did. Kida chuckled amiably and snapped her fingers in front of his face to yank him back to reality. “Earth to Milo.”

“Oh! Yes! Swimming,” he rambled as he climbed quickly to his feet. He shed his clothes between quipped phrases. Sometimes he dressed in Atlantean attire; sometimes, he wore the clothes he’d brought with him from the submarine voyage just for nostalgia. Today was a case of the latter. “In water.” He pulled his cream-colored tank top over his head. “The two of us.” He kicked off his sandals. “Together.” He shimmied out of his cargo pants and likewise flung them carelessly aside. “Great plan.”

“Milo,” Kida laughed, daintily covering her mouth with her hand as she rose from her position, “You act as if we aren’t engaged.” A pink blush painted Milo’s cheeks, and he flashed Kida a bashful smile while rubbing at the back of his neck. Giggling, she leaned in to pat him cutely on the cheek before unwinding the shawl that covered her upper thighs. They’d been engaged for some time now, so Milo really ought to be used to Kida’s jaw-dropping gorgeousness, but his jaw refused to get the memo. As the soft blue fabric slipped from her shapely tanned legs, his mouth fell open, and his head craned back a little so his eyes could traverse the smooth curves of her body. A polite cough brought his eyes heavenward, finding Kida’s sparkling with amusement while one of her white eyebrows quirked.

“Uhm, I, uhh… Pretty, you’re very pretty,” Milo stammered dumbly. Kida threw back her head in another bout of delighted laughter, making Milo smile sheepishly and play with the scraggly brown hairs at the base of his neck again. Kida’s arms lunged forward to grab him by the wrists, guiding his body to guide him into the pool.

“Thank you, Milo,” she chuckled as her ankles dipped into the cold water. The lilies bumped against her calves as she waded back into the pool, coursing across the ripples with much more speed than their previous lazy gaits. The koi scattered as Kida’s feet tracked across the deep brown mud, throwing up clouds of it in the otherwise clear liquid. When Milo’s bare feet kissed the edge of the bool, his spine tingled at the cold sensation that bloomed in his toes. The feeling spread up his legs as he slipped into the pool with his fiancé to feel him with a refreshing chill.

The deepest region of the pool only reached the height of Kida’s waist, so that is where she dropped his arms to begin running her fingers over the surface of the water, creating dozens of ripples. As her arms moved in slow, gentle arcs, something about the movement of her body made Milo’s heart thump in his chest. He must’ve gotten a strange look on his face because she snickered, “What?”

“You’re just the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever met.” A flush deepened her cheeks’ skin tone, making the electric-blue tattoo decorating the area under her eye seem to glow. A shy grin spread over her pretty plump lips; he could visibly see the glee bubbling up inside of her. The water sloshed as Milo closed some distance between them to grip her arms by the elbows lightly. With a playfully considerate look, Kida watched him as he slowly raised them, hand sliding down the length of her forearm to leave dewdrops of water clinging to her gorgeous tawny skin, until he brought her hands to his face. With his eyes locked on hers, Milo kissed each of the tops of her hands and then smiled salaciously. “Definitely the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever met,” he confirmed with an appreciative nod. Kida snorted, but he could see how flustered she was by his smooth words by the red flush creeping down her neck from her face.

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” she commented. Milo’s flirtatiousness instantly dissolved as his fragile thread of consciousness snapped. For a second, he wondered if Kida wasn’t in the mood, but that thought evaporated as she slipped forward to press her torso against his. As the soft fabric binding her bust pressed against his pectorals, Milo reflexively began to stammer; Kida silenced them with a seductive “shhhh.” Her hands detached from his to slide over his shoulders, and he shuddered as the cold water kissed his skin. Kida’s arms wound loosely around his neck so that her fingers could play with the curly hairs resting against the nape of his neck.

“Uhhh,” Milo blinked, compulsively pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re in a pretty good mood, too.” Kida laughed airily; thankfully, his dumb comments always seemed to amuse rather than aggravate her, so he was grateful for that.

“Well, I am with the love of my life. That will put anyone in a good mood.” Milo’s face blazed crimson, and he began to sputter nonsensically. Kida snickered, gazing in his eyes for a few moments, before her eyes dropped down to the beautiful water around them. Instinctively, he glanced down as well.

The koi-like fish had acclimated to the lovers’ presence, as they were now freely and undauntedly gliding through the seaweed waving around Milo and Kida’s legs. Occasionally, one of the foot-long fish would bump against one of their calves; the creature would wriggle as if apologizing before swiftly swimming around. Their scales glittered like gems in the crystal-clear water- pearl, amethyst, sapphire, sugilite, onyx, and zircon glinting beneath the peaceful surface. Suddenly gripped by the urge to be even closer to the fish, Milo relaxed his legs, allowing gravity to tip him backward onto his rump. Kida cried out in alarm as her body followed suit, slumping into him on their downward slant. Milo laughed animatedly as the water splashed up around them, slicking them from head to toe.

“That wasn’t funny,” she pouted as she pushed the water-soaked strands of white hair from her face. Milo tutted apologetically and helped her tuck the large chunks of damp hair behind her ears. The fish were momentarily startled by their sudden movement, but soon grew curious; they swam forward to nip experimentally at the fabric of their clothes and their soft skin. Milo and Kida both laughed at the ticklish sensations. Milo hummed happily and drew Kida in, spreading his legs around her frame to settle her close. Kida reclined against his chest, nestling her head against the crook of his shoulder and began to trace the star-patterned tattoo adorning the other. “Milo?”

“Hmm?” he grunted. His eyes had resumed tracing the graceful swimming patterns of the koi fish.

“Do you regret not leaving with your friends?” They’d only been gone for a short time, almost as short as Kida and Milo’s engagement. But what did that have to do with anything? Milo looked at Kida incredulously, unsure of where the spontaneous question had come from. Kida’s face was drawn into a sad frown, and her downcast eyes bored into the groove of his neck. She continued to trace the jagged lines of his tattoos, but the motions even seemed despondent. “I just cannot help but wonder,” she admitted morosely. Milo took a moment to shove his gut reactions aside. He wanted to carefully consider Kida’s feelings to find the best words to say. After a moment of deliberating, he answered.

“My entire life goal was finding Atlantis,” he said quietly. He craned his head back to the heavens, where he could just barely see the ever-present stone-carved effigies of the former royals floating in the sky and brimming with spiritual energy. “Coming here was the fulfillment of my life purpose. But, more than that,” he smiled and looked down at Kida. He cupped her face, drawing his thumb over her cheekbone in a purely adoring gesture, “I found my new life purpose. You, Kida. I could never, ever regret leaving all that behind, because none of it compares to what I’ve gained with you.”

Kida’s eyes crinkled up at the corners as she smiled broadly. Her hold around him tightened desperately as she snuggled against him, ensuring every inch of them was touching. Milo inhaled happily, wrapped his arms around her in a similarly bracing embrace, and leaned down to kiss her softly.

The fish continued to circle them, around and around, as the two young lovers cuddled one another in the crisp, cold water. Peaceful, tranquil, unbothered by the tragedies and atrocities of the surface thousands of miles above the bedrock dome… Why would Milo ever trade blessed days like this, and the beautiful woman in his arms, for anything else? Nothing else compared.

Nothing else compared.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

#milo x kida #kida x milo #atlantis #atlantis the lost empire

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ahedderick · 4 years

Text

Work Pants

A-*hem*. Pants hemming tutorial specifically for heavy-duty work pants.

@riverhyssop, I borrowed the photo of your pants to start this tutorial. Rolling them up like this is an excellent way to judge how much you need to cut off. Roll them up, stand up straight to check that they’re a comfy length, make sure you got them both equal. Then, using chalk or a colored pencil or even a pen (because we’re not being fancy or professional, here!) mark right at the bottom where the fabric is folded. If you want, you can take them off to do this. In fact, take them off right now, because you need to cut them next.

Tools you need for hand-sewing this will be; good sewing scissors that can cope with heavy fabric, medium-sized needle, sturdy dark blue or gray thread (I’m just using pink for visibility in the photos) and a thimble. If you have to get rid of an old seam, a seamripper is useful, but for the pants shown above we won’t have to.

Turn your pants inside out and smooth the legs down flat. You’re going to cut them straight across, mark with a ruler if you need to, about 2cm or 3/4 inch LONGER than the chalk mark you made. I use my finger width. Then fold it over like so:

The fabric to the right is the inside of the pants leg. The finger-width is a good approximation of how wide a regular pants seam is. Our chalk mark is now inside that fold - so we don’t have to worry about it anymore! The reason we’re only folding once, instead of twice, is that the fabric is SO THICK. If you fold it twice, you would need an industrial-quality sewing machine to deal with the heavy layers.

Thread your needle and pull the thread through until the ends are even. We’re going to be sewing with double thread for extra toughness. REady? Go!

As a right-hander, I’m going to hold the fabric with my left hand and stitch from right to left like so. We want a row of stitches that look like rungs of a ladder, and hold the raw edge of the fabric to keep it from fraying.

Like this! I went ahead and drew a (pink) line on the fabric to keep myself straight. Each stitch starts on the single part of the fabric and comes back up on the double part. If it’s hard to push through, especially near a seam, use the thimble. Thimbles let you push the end of the needle hard without hurting your finger.

If you have a machine, you can do this same technique with the zig-zag stitch. Here’s what that looks like:

I went around it twice with the zigzag stitch and it has held up for quite a while. You can see the bulkiness of the long seam of the leg, here; that’s the reason we’re working with a single fold.

I hope this helps! Feel free to send a question if any part is unclear. I’ve done this a lot of times, and find it much easier than any other method I’ve tried!

#sewing #hemming pants #riverhyssop #diy #solarpunk

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flyaway-33 · 5 years

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Yesterday-- Part 2

Story summary: Pre-Smile Era. You and Roger are best friends with benefits after having met at a dorm meeting the first night at university. The two of you navigate the newfound freedom of life away from home and learn more about each other and yourselves than you ever expected.

Part 1 here

[Sorry for the shit quality but this is what I picture Roger as for this story, but feel free to picture him however you want!]

Part 2 Summary: Roger and reader have a mischievous weekend adventure so that Roger can show reader his talent. 5k words.

Warnings: 18+, heavy petting smut, language, fluff, slight humiliation.

Disclaimer: This is only a work of fiction. Song lyrics— I Got You by James Brown

A/N: This chapter was so much fun to write! I hope you all like it. Just a comment can really make my day.

The morning you and Roger had spent together had turned into afternoon before you’d finally come back to your own room to get showered and changed for the day, and you left Roger to his own devices for the time being. You knew whoever was ready for the day first would be knocking on the other’s door in no time. Your roommate Amy was starting to get tired of his many visits both at night and during the day, just as his roommate Dale was already sick of you to the point where he’d started making himself sparse. His parents lived in London after all and Roger had told you the only reason he had a dorm room was because his parents were trying to kick their little bird out of the nest. Tensions were growing high between roommates as the end of the semester drew near and neither of you cared what either of them thought thought, as Amy had a different boy over every week and Dale was messy as could be and it drove Roger crazy.

Meeting Roger you’d never guess that he was such a clean freak. He was all boy through and through, and the first impression a person would get from him was that he was rough and tumble and probably the stereotypical, messy college boy with a room that looked like ground zero for World War three. He wouldn’t strike anyone as particular in any way about his space when in reality he was the cleanest person you’d ever met. You discovered early on that he couldn’t stand being dirty. He took two or three showers every day depending on how he felt, and whenever Dale left a mess in their room you thought Roger would go off the deep end.

The end-of-semester tensions only pushed you and Roger closer as the idea of him going home to Cornwall and you to Surrey frightened you both. You wanted to get away from the university environment but you couldn’t imagine being away from him for a whole month. Neither of you were prepared, and you were cherishing the three weeks you had left until then.

You were out of the shower, clad in a camisole and pajama pants as you brushed through your wet hair. The familiar, rhythmic knocking pattern sounded on the door and you quickly let him in. You didn’t know what the plan was for this fine, lazy Sunday afternoon but you really didn’t care as long as it was spent with your best friend.

“Hello, love. Long time no see.” He sighed in his light, airy voice, leaning over to kiss your cheek before plopping down on your messy bed. You never made it and you knew it drove him nuts. He was in pajamas as well and burrowed under your light pink duvet making you giggle at the way he looked peeking out of it, his hair in his face and his big blue eyes peering up at you in innocence.

“Tired already? We just got up!” You set your hairbrush down on the dresser and climbed on top of him, purposefully covering as much of him as you could and putting all your weight on him.

“Get off!” He laugh-wined, shoving at you halfheartedly. “I can’t breath!”

“Maybe it’s all those cigarettes, Rog.” You laughed, starting to tickle him.

“No fair! Quit it!” He shoved you a little harder and you rolled to the side, allowing for him to take charge, and he returned fire two-fold. You doubled over from laughter and he fell back onto the bed beside you, the two of you out of breath.

“You’ll be the death of me, Taylor.” You panted.

“Not if you get me first,” he scoffed.

“What do you want to do anyway?”

“I dunno.” He said flippantly. “I’m comfy right here, to be honest.” He snuggled back into the duvet with a content sigh.

“I have a question.” You stated out of the blue, propping yourself up on your elbows. This was a question you knew would catch him off guard and you were a little afraid to ask, but you needed to know. “We’ve been friends with benefits for a while…”

“Yeah? And?” His curious eyes met yours and you fell back, hiding your face behind your hands.

“Ahh I can’t ask it.”

“Oh come off it we tell each other everything. What could possibly be so bad you can’t ask me?”

You sighed, collecting yourself. “Fine. I want to know, Rog… what’s your body count? I mean we probably should’ve talked about this before we started this arrangement…”

“Oh.” His face was confused and concerned, and you worried you’d overstepped.

“You don’t have to answer—“

“No, love. I’ll answer. Including you? Two.”

“Two?” That was an unexpected answer. You hadn’t put your finger on just how many you expected because he acted like such a ladies man sometimes, but that answer did surprise you.

“What, do you think I’m some kind of man-whore?” He looked genuinely offended at your surprised reaction, and he went to get off the bed.

“Wait, Rog, I don’t—“ you grabbed his arm, making him sit back down. “Its just, you’re so confident and act so comfortable with girls. I figured it would be higher, you know? That’s not really a bad thing.”

“Well if you must know, I was with my girlfriend for the past four years until we parted ways for university.” He spat, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest, clearly hurt.

“I’m sorry, Roger, I didn’t mean to react that way. Um, our agreement isn’t just rebound sex, is it?”

“What?” His eyes snapped back to yours, “No, of course not. I loved her but it was time. I’m not hung up on her. What I have with you is different.”

“You loved her?”

“Yes. She was my first love. But we were growing apart. She had her plans and I had mine. That’s just how it went.” There was a sad shadow that clouded his eyes momentarily, but he quickly shook it off. “What about you? What’s your count?”

“Um.” You’d forgotten that asking him would also require you to give up the same information. “Including you, one.”

“One?” You could see the cogs turning in his head as he processed. “You were a virgin?” He asked, his voice hitching with a hint of panic.

You nodded.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?!” He sat up on his knees and his hands came up to grip his hair.

“What’s the big deal, Rog?”

“You were a virgin!” His hands dropped from his hair and one of them fell to his neck, slipping under the collar of his t-shirt to scratch nervously at his shoulder. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N, had I known—“

“Hey, quit it. What would you have possibly done differently had you known?” You placed your hands on his tense shoulders and pulled him back down to sit beside you once more.

“I— I don’t know, I would’ve gone slower, been more attentive, asked you how you felt.” His big blue eyes were glassy and filled with worry. It was sweet to see how concerned he was.

“In that case I’m glad you didn’t know. You would’ve ruined it.” You chuckled, reaching up and smoothing his hair affectionately. “Really, it was fine how it was.”

“Fine? Did it hurt? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, Rog. It was more than fine, it was lovely. I told you that then, and I was being honest. It was really quite lovely and it has been every time since.”

He visibly relaxed at your words but still eyed you with caution. “These kinds of things… we need to talk about them more. I feel blind sided.”

“I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t realize it was such a big deal to you.”

“Well I just feel like I should’ve known. And you should’ve known my body count before, too. We need to communicate better if we’re going to keep doing this.”

It shook you to see how hurt he seemed from this whole conversation. “You’re right. We’ll work on communicating better.” You studied his expression as he looked down at his lap, his hand still massaging his shoulder under his shirt. “Come on, Rog. Relax, darling. I have an idea.” You reached up and took his hand from his shirt and held both of his in yours. His eyes met yours once more with a spark of curiosity. “I want you to play your drums for me.”

His eyes lit up momentarily, but it quickly faded as he thought it through. “I would love that, but they’re too loud to play here.”

“Oh come on! I bet Dale isn’t even back yet!”

“No, not that. I mean they are loud, Y/N. Like the whole building would be able to hear them. Not a lot of people realize just how loud they are until they’ve heard them up close.”

“I want to hear them.”

“You might but the whole building won’t.” He scoffed and crossed his arms again. “Trust me I would love to have the opportunity to play. Pencils on a desk just aren’t the same.”

During your study sessions he would often get distracted and drum on his desk and notebook with two pencils. It never bothered you because his rhythm was impeccable, but there was only so much pitch he could get from a battered notebook and an old table. You wanted so badly to hear the real thing, and began to mull over ideas in your head. Suddenly you remembered a key detail.

“Oh! There’s a set in the art building! The music room is there, I pass it every day, Rog, you could use those!”

“Is it open on Sundays?” He asked, doubt clouding his narrowed eyes as he studied you.

You smirked, a feeling of mischief exciting you. “No, but I know of a certain ground floor window that’s aways open. The lock is broken.”

“You’re amazing.” He stated, jumping off the bed and bolting toward the door. “I’m going to change, meet me at my room.” And with that he was gone.

You laughed to yourself as you got up to change. You slipped on a navy blue sweatshirt that happened to be Roger’s and replaced your pajama pants with light wash bell bottom jeans. At the door you paused to slip on your white converse, and then headed down to Roger’s room on the first floor. You let yourself into his unlocked room to find him pulling on his jeans.

His smile of excitement made your heart swell. He was like a little boy getting ready to open presents on Christmas morning, and you watched him fondly as he pulled on his favorite Marlboro Red jacket and black converse. He once again bolted for the door, beckoning for you to follow. He held the door for you and you grabbed his monochrome polaroid camera off his dresser on your way out.

“What’s that for?” He asked, following you out the door and locking it behind him.

“I have a project I need to do and this might just be the perfect opportunity to start it.” You smiled to yourself as you slipped the camera strap over your neck, thinking of the prompt your professor had given you.

“What’s the project on?” Roger asked, falling into step beside you as you exited the dorm building and started up the sidewalk.

“Oh my professor just told us to use any one medium and create a collage— yes photographs are a medium.” You left out the fact that the collage was supposed to be on your favorite things, and you planned for him to be the sole subject.

“I knew that.” He grumbled, looking away. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh it is. Creative things like this are my favorites.”

“I thought you were a painter?”

“Well I am but I’m going to be an art teacher, so I need to broaden my horizons. I have to know about different kinds of art to teach them.”

“That’s cool.” A smile came to play at his lips as he looked ahead, and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

You continued on your way to the art building which loomed over you up ahead, and you chuckled to yourself when you reached the intersection where you and Roger would normally part ways when heading to class. You lead him up to the building and took his hand in yours as you walked around the back of it, searching for the window you knew would let you in.

As you felt his hand in yours you noticed how soft they had become since he hadn’t been drumming, and it made you feel sad, knowing that he hadn’t had the opportunity to do what he loved in months. You’d never seen him really drum before and your heart beat quickened as you thought about the fact that you were about to hear him play for the first time.

“Here it is!” You exclaimed, pointing up to a window that was ever so slightly cracked. It was just over your height and you frowned, realizing that this mission could be a challenge after all.

“How the bloody hell are we going to get in?” Roger responded, gazing up at the window with despair dripping from his voice.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t look convinced but rather sat down on the ground with a huff as you paced trying to think.

“I know! You could lift me in—“

“But how does that help me get in?”

“Then I can find a step stool or something to stick out the window for you.” You crossed your arms over your chest and surveyed his expression.

“Well, I guess it’ll have to do.” He admitted with a shrug, getting to his feet once more. “Alright, hop up.” He knelt on one knee and held his hands out for your foot, which you placed in them lightly. With a groan he hoisted you up and you grabbed onto the windowsill for dear life. You struggled momentarily as you tried to push the window open further, and you could feel Roger beginning to shake under your weight. Finally you had it open wide enough to fit and kicked off his hands to push yourself through.

You landed on the art table below the window in the dark classroom and could hear Roger cursing outside. “A little warning would’ve been nice!”

Getting to your feet, you brushed off the dust your sweatshirt had gathered from the windowsill and you returned to peer out at Roger. He was sprawled out on his back looking like something the cat dragged in and you realized you had kicked him over when you’d launched yourself through the window. A laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“It’s not funny!” He yelled from the ground, finally pushing himself to his feet.

You rolled your eyes and disappeared from the window again in search of something he could use as a step. There was a closet full of random supplies in the back of the classroom, and you knew if there was anything in the room that wouldn’t be missed it would be in there. When you opened the closet you wanted to shout with relief, as right there in the middle of the clutter sat a wooden milk crate. You wasted no time grabbing it and bringing it back to the window. As the window was in the back of the building you figured you could easily leave it there for future use. It was perfect.

Roger smiled when he saw what you brought for him and reached up to take it from you. It was a little short but gave him the boost he needed to get in the window enough for you to grab onto him and pull. The both of you landed once more in a heap on the table you’d been standing on, laughing your asses off.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, sliding out from under Roger and gaining your footing on the floor, “lets go find those drums before we break something.”

He followed you quickly and you could see the excitement returning to his face. The childlike joy he felt at the idea of getting to do what he loved warmed your heart and you loved that you were the one to find a way to make him so happy.

At last you reached the room and you opened the heavy wooden door to reveal the enormous, cavernous band room. It had soundproofing panels all around and lockers along one wall that held instruments for the music majors to borrow. There was a small conducting podium at the front of the room before several rows of chairs, set up for an orchestra. To the far end of the room sat a mini stage with a drum kit upstage, ready and waiting with Roger’s name all over it.

The kit was the first thing Roger saw, and before you could say a word he was jogging over to it. You watched him plop down on the stool and give the bass drum a light tap with its pedal. He looked around for drum sticks and snatched them when he spotted them laying on one of the floor toms. Immediately he began some kind of ritual with the drums, focus taking over his face, turning it stony as he doubled over and listened to the sounds each drum made as he tapped them. You didn’t dare disturb him, as you’d never seen such concentration take him before, and you perched yourself on a nearby amplifier to observe. The polaroid camera bumped your chest as you adjusted yourself and you immediately picked it up, a smile growing on your face as you brought it up to your eye. You watched him through the viewfinder, waiting for the perfect moment, then, snap, you had him. The film slid from the front and you placed it beside you to develop. This was going to be fun.

“Whatcha doing, Roggie?” You asked as you watched him pause to readjust himself on the stool.

“Oh, I’m tuning them.” He stated, looking up. “Would you like a play-by-play?” A smirk played at his lips as he raised an eyebrow.

You brought the camera back up to your eye and wasted no time. Snap. “Yes please.”

“Well they’re ready. What would you like to hear? I might be a bit rusty.” He twirled one of the drumsticks in his fingers, already humming and bobbing his head to whatever song was playing in his mind.

“Whatever you’re thinking of.”

“Right on.”

You were caught off guard by the loud “Wow!” he shouted to start off the song but as he continued and you recognized what he was playing you felt like melting. It was ‘I Got You’ by James Brown and he sounded absolutely amazing. Though the recording of the song had other instruments, they weren’t missed one bit with the fulfilling combination of Roger’s talents. But Roger was right, the drums were loud and the sound of them consumed all the space in the room and covered you like a heavy blanket. You were mesmerized by the way he moved as he hit each drum with perfect timing and sung along with a voice that was worthy of fame. You’d never noticed or appreciated just how physical the art of drumming was, but watching his movements you had no idea how he did it, not to mention how his voice was perfect, completely unaffected by the activity.

“I feel good, so good

I got-a you!”

He pointed a drumstick at you on that line and you just wanted to soak up the moment as his eyes bore into yours. Sitting there, dazed on the amp, you took him in, feeling the bass drum and basking in the feelings his voice and the song stirred inside you. It was perfect, and you nearly forgot to capture the moment on camera. You hurriedly put your eye back to the viewfinder and snapped the stutter button again before placing the little square soon-to-be photo face down beside you. As you listened, you prepared for the chorus this time and snapped a picture on the word “you” as he pointed to you once more, this time with a wink. You knew you’d got it and hurried to put the picture down to develop, praying it would come out right.

Tears pricked at your eyes as he drew the song to a close, as you didn’t want it to end, it was just such a wonderful experience.

He was breathing heavy as he hit the final note and set his drumsticks down to catch his breath. “Wow I really am out of shape.” He panted, his eyes meeting yours with a playful raise of his eyebrows.

“Roger, that was beautiful.” You stated. It wasn’t the right word for such an up-tempo song but you were at a loss for words, completely dumbfounded to discover just how talented your best friend was.

“Well, thanks.” He said hesitantly. “Would you like to hear something else?”

You nodded fervently, wracking your brain for any one request, but you didn’t care what he played, you just wanted to hear him. He sat still for a moment, letting you think and still trying to catch his breath. His eyes were downcast as he studied the skin of the snare drum, and you admired him from your perch on the amp. You couldn’t help but slowly slide off of it onto your feet and slowly approach him. He didn’t hear you and he jumped slightly when your hand landed on his shoulder. His deep blue eyes met yours once more and his lips parted slightly in curiosity, waiting for you to say something, but instead you just lowered yourself to straddle his lap, and wrapped you arms over his shoulders, your hands connecting at the back of his neck. Gazing into his eyes you reflected on how amazing he was to you, and how seeing him put his heart and soul into drumming had been such a turn on. His hands moved up to the small of your back to steady you on his lap and a small smile touched his lips as he studied your expression.

“You’re amazing,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his.

His smile turned into a smirk as he took in your praise, and his hands moved to grip your hips. “I’m pretty great with my hands if I do say so myself,” he joked as he trailed his fingers down your thigh, reaching the bend of your knee and hitching your leg up, causing you to move further up on his lap.

“Show me,” you breathed, pulling off the obnoxious sweatshirt that was keeping you from him and tossing it aside and feeling his stare burning through your camisole with no bra beneath it.

He rans his hands up and down your thighs teasingly before moving one hand behind your neck to support it as he pressed his mouth to it. His other hand worked on the button of your tight, low rise jeans, fumbling momentarily but successfully undoing it. He slipped his fingers under the thin elastic waistband of your panties and he very lightly traced your slit as his mouth sucked gently on the soft, sensitive skin of your collarbone, evoking a soft moan from your lips, and sure to leave a mark. You could tell he was going to make you beg for it. Well, two could play at that game.

You ground your hips lightly against his hand, causing friction on his lap as you inched even further up on him, your bellies touching from your closeness. You could feel your work paying off as his jeans began to strain, and you made quick work of undoing the button and plunging your hand into his boxers. Gently, you brushed the tips of your fingers ever so lightly along his member, and he groaned under your touch.

At your advances he allowed his fingers to explore your warm folds, and he traced you with painful slowness. You ground into his fingers, but he pulled them away as you tried to get more friction.

“Ah ah ah,” he scolded as he brought his fingers up to your lips. “You’re going to be patient,” he teased, licking you off his fingers before returning them to their previous position on either side of your clit, now slick and warm with his saliva.

You groaned at your limitation and tried your hardest to stay still as he began to move his fingers once more, and as you began to stroke him with your hand. “No, sir,” you scolded when you felt his hips buck beneath you. “If I have to be patient then so do you.” You trailed kisses up his neck and nibbled on his ear playfully, and he gave in, moving his fingers to exactly where you wanted them. “Atta boy,” you breathed in his ear.

“Lets make this quick,” he grunted, and you nodded in agreement, quickening your pace with him as he did the same to you. He allowed you to move against him again and you took full advantage, taking special care to reward him as well. You quickly came undone on his fingers and he followed suit seconds later, his head falling onto your shoulder as you rode out the wave of ecstasy together.

Both of you took slow, deep breaths together calm yourselves as you gently removed your hand from his boxers and wiped it messily on your camisole. He gently removed his fingers from your panties as he fought back a giddy smile. You scooted back on his lap a few inches to give him some space and something on his jeans caught your eye.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, covering your uncontrollable smile with both hands. “We did not think this through.” He had a very obvious, dark wet spot on the front of his light wash jeans caused from your activities.

He swore loudly as his eyes caught the offending sight. “Shit! How am I going to get out of here? I can’t go out like this.”

“Hey hey hey, its okay love. Everyone cums in their pants every now and then,” you couldn’t help but snicker as you looked up at him, mischief in your eyes at your sarcastic comment. “Haha, you came in your pants!”

“That’s not how it went and you know it!” He shouted as his cheeks reddened, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“Roger came in his pants, Roger came in his pants!” You chanted in a sing-song voice as you slid off his lap and twirled around.

“Come off it.”

“Oh come on, Rog, just admit I was too much for you,” you let your jeans slip lower on your hips for him as you danced over to pick up your sweatshirt, bending over to tease him.

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow, his expression calming. “I seem to recall you quite literally melting in my hands.”

“Well, my proof ain’t all over the front of my pants now is it?!” You laughed, spinning around to pick the camera up off where you’d left it on the amp and turned it on him before he could react. The resulting photo you knew would develop with his eyes wide and his mouth open in protest— a beautiful sight. “Don’t worry, Love, that one’s just for me.”

“Seriously though. My jacket won’t cover it, I don’t know what to do. I’m not leaving like this.” Roger stood up and played with the hem of his t-shirt as if he could stretch it far enough to stay covered.

“Well, how about you play me another song and I’ll think about it. Okay, drummer boy?”

He shot you a glare and sat back on the drum stool, grabbing and twirling a drumstick between his fingers. The rhythm he began to bang out of the drums captivated you immediately, and this time you walked around him to get pictures, snapping a painfully attractive one from the back that displayed his messy hair splayed around his head perfectly. Whatever song he was playing either didn’t have words or he wasn’t in the mood to sing. He ignored you as you paced around the drum kit, taking pictures, and he continued to play song after song, sometimes singing along, sometimes just moving his mouth to the count of the beat. You quickly realized that he had retreated into his own little world and seemingly had forgotten about you. He didn’t notice when you stooped back down to pick up the abandoned sweatshirt off the floor and held it up to you to see if it might be long enough to solve Roger’s problem. It would be, so you folded it and set in on the amp, glad to have found a solution to his way too obvious predicament. You sat down on the floor and began sorting through your polaroids, admiring Roger in his natural habitat. These were gold and you were hesitant to ruin them by putting them in a collage, but you knew you had to or you’d fail the assignment, having no other ideas.

Your only solution was to take more but you only had three photos left in the camera and had to photograph wisely. Observing him was an experience like no other. He was putting all his heart and soul into the rhythms he beat out, and your heart would leap every time he would throw his head back in passion. He was beautiful, you’d never seen such a perfect human before and it was all enhanced by the ray of setting sunlight that filtered through the high windows, framing his hair like a halo. You waited, watching him through the viewfinder and found the perfect angle sitting on the floor beside him, though being so close made the sounds reverberate through your head and started to make it hurt you didn’t care: you had the best seat in the house.

#roger taylor fic #roger taylor #roger x reader #queen fic

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obsidiancreates · 5 years

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Could you please explain your Oc's looks? I would appreciate it if you could be a little detailed? :)

I’m afraid I still don’t know entirely how Malum and Haley look, but I’ve got the other three down!

I have some drawings of them on here! I’ll reblog them later for reference!

Carter is black, and has curly black hair that’s just a little too long to be considered tidy. When I first drew him I drew his hair as straight and going just down past his ears, and then a little while ago I realized “Oop, wait, his hair would be naturally curly, wouldn’t it? Whoops.” His eyes are also yellow, though I’m considering maybe changing that sometime.

He wears a yellow suit, not a bright yellow but not quite pastel either, just soft. His pants are the same color. He has a white button-down undershirt, and an orange tie that he keeps tucked into his suit so that the end of the tie isn’t visible. His shoes are just normal brown dress shoes. He has a hat, it’s one of these ones that’s like a really short top-hat, kind of like a bowler hat but not exactly. Like um... like Bert’s hat during the little animated carnival sequence in Marry Poppins! But it’s yellow, not made of straw, and has an orange stripe just above the brim!

(I just started on Malum and realized I should probably include about cheekbones and jaws.) Carter’s got a good jawline. His cheekbones are average, he didn’t care much about them when making the body.

Ashlyn is quite pale. She has bright ginger hair, which she usually keeps in a ponytail. It would go just past her shoulders if she wore it down. Her eyes are a sort of blue-green.

She wears rather basic clothes. A gray hoodie, a solid color t-shirt (usually a light pink, she likes pink), blue jeans, and some kind of sneakers, color doesn’t matter there she just cares if they’re comfy. She also has an apron that she wears while baking, it’s pink and says “Made With Love” on the front in red bubble letters. Her grandma made it for her, it’s a little stained and has seen a lot of use.

(Editing to add about them cheeks...) Ashlyn is a little soft. Not a lot, because all the adventures are both good workouts and sometimes they will result in not eating enough for a long time, but she’s on the softer, chubbier side. I didn’t have this in my original drawing because I didn’t decide that then. Anyway, her face is more round and soft than everyone else’s.

Evelyn is also quite pale. She has black hair, the ends a bright sky-blue. It’s rather short, going down to just above her shoulders. Her eyes are also blue. When she’s in human form they’re a normal blue, maybe a little brighter than typical, probably quite close to Jack’s eye color for reference. When she’s in her magic form, her eyes are a bright, kind of glowy sky-blue, like her hair ends (I only have one colored pencil close to what I imagine so I have to use the same one for bother her hair and eyes).

She wears a black leather jacket, a purple t-shirt underneath, ripped jeans (usually black, gray, or dark blue), and nice sturdy boots (black or gray) with criss-crossing straps on the front . She also has a necklace with a silver chain and round sapphire pendant, but that’s usually hidden in her shirt.

Her magic form includes: the previously mentioned glowing blue eyes with slit sort of cat or snake like pupils, four black horns coming from her head ( two closer to the front that curve in like they’re trying to touch each other, two bigger ones that curve outward like they’re trying to get away from each other), long and lithe claws on her hands, pointed teeth, and two wings. The wings are... damn, I forget their color. I think a sort of gray-blue? We’ll see when I find the drawings.

Cheekbones and jaw. I am shit at drawing face structure, but oh my goodness. She doesn’t even need claws with her cheekbones and jaw, honestly. In a good way though.

I... may have been feeling extra gay when I decided how she looked. It was before I knew I was Bi but... I’m a little gay for my own character, not gonna lie. Even when she’s in magic form.

Haley... she has brown hair and brown eyes, I know that. Her hair is sort of wavy, and it goes down to her shoulders. Not above, not past, right at her shoulders. She usually wears it down. She’s also pale (I didn’t realize that Carter was the only character of color until after I made the main five, so most of the other sort of side-OCs are characters of color to make up for it).

She wears dresses a lot, usually with shorts or tights underneath. Her parents made her wear flats all the time, and while she does genuinely like them, she mostly wears sneakers because they have less uncomfortable memories attached. The dresses are usually sort of like t-shirt dresses or something, simple and loose and comfy! And of course her necklace from her aunt. I haven’t settled on a design, but it’s definitely gold.

Her cheekbones and jaw aren’t crazy, they’re just average. She was kind of gaunt for a while, with the stress of her home life at her parent’s and them not exactly taking the best care of her and not letting her take very good care of herself... but she’s healthier now, her face is more full, and she looks pretty normal!

Malum. I have no fucking clue with this man. Very pale, because he’s kind of... dead-ish? Not exactly, but he is a demon, and his blood isn’t blood-blood it’s demon blood. I think he’s got a strong jaw, just good bone structure in general, though his cheeks are probably a bit gaunt so he looks more tragic. His eyes are dark, dark brown when he’s in human form, orange when he’s in demon form.

His hair... probably black, mostly neat but long enough to get in his eyes sometimes. Maybe like, layered? I don’t know.

He’s really tall. I know that. Maybe muscular? Maybe not? I can’t decide. I mean, probably not very, at least visably, because that wouldn’t look very tragic, but I also had this idea about his design that I make him look like a sort of stereotypical “bad boy love interest” character, because he’s not a bad boy at all and he’s actually super sweet and soft, so that would be a funny contrast. But yeah, can’t decide.

Um... in terms on clothes, a lot of elbow length sleeve shirts I think. I think he has a maroon one he really likes. Probably a few normal t-shirts as well. I bet he’s got at least one with a cheesy pun or something on it, but he’d never let Carter know that. A lot of jeans, black and blue and maybe gray. Just sneakers really, for shoes.

I’m sorry this took forever! I hope this was satisfactory!

#My OCs #Carter Clevman #Ashlyn Searson #Evelyn Serenatis #Haley Amandi #Malum Amandi

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nintendork135 · 5 years

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United Are Our Stories: Chapter 1

The sounds of the crowds woke me up. I half opened my eyes, squinting at the ceiling. All I wanted to do was curl up and fall asleep in my bed again. I groaned and shut my eyes, and rolled over again. The noise didn’t stop, though. People were too busy talking and going about their business.

I sighed, and begrudgingly pulled myself out of bed. I walked over to the window and gazed out on the grandiose city below. Outside, I saw the lawn of the mansion I was in, and beyond it, the buildings that made up Prism Peak. Skyscrapers towered over smaller buildings with peculiar shapes, such as a book, or a clay pot. In the streets, people of all colors, origins, and species went about their business, beneath the bright blue sky. Meanwhile, I was in my dimly lit room, with nothing but what I had decorated it with. I turned from the window and went to the bathroom to start my day.

As I opened the door, bright light spilled from the room. I’d forgotten to turn the light off the night before. I grunted and went to the sink to wash up. As I reached for the faucet, I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a young man with dishevelled brown hair, blue-green eyes, and slightly big ears staring back. That young boy’s name was Nintnedork, and I am that young man.

The cool water woke me up as it hit my face, as usual. I did my business, and then went to the dresser to pick out an outfit. I pulled open the bottom drawer, where my pants were kept, and looked it over. I chose my favorite pair of grey sweatpants, which tapered off at the end. I then went to the shirt drawer to get a complimenting shirt. It took a bit, due to grey going with a lot, but I eventually decided on a green and white striped shirt. I tossed on some socks, pulled on my shoes, and made my way downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast.

As I reached the kitchen, I heard a knock on the front door. Groaning, I turned and walked towards the front door. The knocking continued as I walked towards the front hall, even as I got to the door. When I opened the door, I was nearly hit in the face by another knock. I avoided it, and was surprised by who was at my door.

Standing on my doorstep was a woman with a larger build, a red dress with pink polka dots, and a black beehive hairdo. It was my secretary, Betty Sue, who I usually saw in City Hall. I stared, puzzled.

“Betty? What are you doing here?”, I inquired. Betty jumped, and turned her head to me,l as if just now realizing I had seen her.

She looked a bit surprised as she began to talk, fumbling with her words. “Oh, um, Mr. Nintendork! I, um, came because I-er, there’s something that needs your attention! Um, if you could just meet me at City Hall…” With that, she ran off down the path of my lawn and into the busy streets of Prism Peak, leaving me to ponder what she needed. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I went back inside, grabbed a donut, grabbed my conduit pencil, and headed out.

I walked down the path from my house to the sidewalk and took out the pencil. I gave it a good wave, then proceeded to draw a bicycle into reality. My magic was useful if I needed something quickly and didn’t have the time to go get it. Looking at it, though, and remembering how urgent Betty Sue was, I added wings to it. I hopped on and took off over the capital of Illustratia.

As I flew on my new sky-cicle, I looked down on the city. It was a vibrant mass of color and shapes, with vehicles and people bustling along like ants on the ribbons of road that went in between the buildings. Some of the buildings drew attention to themselves, such as a skyscraper that was shaped like a pencil, or the large block of marble that was really an apartment complex. The most eye-catching thing, though, was the centerpiece of the city; a giant brush with a trail of multicolored paint spreading across the sky, held in place by the magic that had been cast when it was made.

I’d always wondered who had made the monument, and who had founded the city. No one was ever recorded in history, and no one from that time was still around. Prism Peak had just popped up one day, and no one questioned it… It always stuck with me.

Just as I began to get lost in thought, the city hall came up ahead. The building itself wasn’t extremely notable, with a quartz exterior including pillars, steps, and three domes. It was surrounded by a grove of peach and sakura trees, giving the place an overall peaceful mood. I descended down and landed in the parking lot next to it. Taking out a piece of paper, I drove the bike over it. As the front wheel went over the edge of the paper, it began to shrink and stick to the paper. This continued until the sky-cycle was actually on the paper, back to the drawing it was. I picked up the paper, folded it, and put it in my pocket. Then, turning to the sidewalk, I began my way to the city hall to meet Betty Sue.

#united are our stories #my story #chapter one #the land of illustratia #new project #i really hope you guys like it #long post

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haikyuu-and-more-haikyuu · 5 years

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May the tides forever be in your favor.

Hello, this is an AU by @basically-i-write-shit. It is about Yamaguchi and his mother moving in with Ren, that is the father of certain cat named Kuroo Tetsurō and his older brother Kuroo Eiichi. Check out his blog and his writing. It’s a great! (this fic is about a year or two into their new living arraignment)

Ren and Tadashi have a distant relationship despite how well his new girlfriend gets along with his own, two boys. He really wants to bond with Tadashi, but doesn’t know how. this night, it’s the first time he is aloe with Tadashi.

Words: 2915

Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. This is my second language and I am still struggling to catch all the misspelling.

He was alone.

For the first time since Aoi and Tadashi moved in, he was alone with the little boy. His partner was out of town, visiting an old aunt and wouldn't return until tomorrow afternoon. He remembered how Tadashi had begged to come with her, but couldn't. Since bringing a fourth grader to her sick, old aunt would be too much of a hassle for the old woman. It was sad.

His own two boys were out too, Tetsurō stayed at Kenma for the night and Eiichi stayed at a group sleep over with his classmates. In hindsight, He thought it was best that his two rowdy boys were out while he was alone with Tadashi. They had a tendency to be too much for the little nine year old and Tadashi would often run to protection. And that protection was his mother's hug and a handful of kind and encouraging words.

Ren wasn’t upset with Tadashi. Not after what his girlfriend told him about how his birth father treated the little boy. Being harassed and abused by strong boys had made Tadashi wary of boys in general, especially adults and older children. Ren didn’t judge Tadashi for being drawn back when there were other males in the room.

It was understandable that it would take time for him to warm up his new family.

Now, at the dinner table, Ren could really feel the tension.

Tadashi sat quietly by the table. If Aoi was here, he would chatter happily with his mother as she asked him about his day, alternating between japanese and spanish as they talked and communicated between them. They really had a warm bond.

Tadashi was a well behaved kid, timid and shy, but polite nonetheless. He had thanked for his food when Ren had sat his bowl of shoyu ramen down and began to eat quietly.

He had yet to mutter a word to his step dad.

Ren breathed deeply, to calm himself, and briefly wondered how he got so bent over a nine year old not wanting to talk to him. This was Aoi’s only child, and if their relationship didn't develop for the better, maybe Ren and Aoi wouldn’t work out like he thought they would.

Ren cleared his throat. “So, Tadashi-kun, what did you do in school today?.” Ren started and caught Tadashi's attention. The boy looked hesitant and glanced over at the seat beside him. The seat Aoi used to sit at. “Learn anything new?”

Tadashi looked down at his plate, chopstick trembling slightly in his hand. “We learned a little about multiplication today.”

“Ah, was it hard?” Ren asked, and though he really should stop being so nervous around the boy. Dammit, he had two of his own. He could do this.

“A little.”

And that was that. That was the only conversation he managed to muster up when his new step son was alone with him. No wonder Tadashi barely spoke to him.

Ren almost slammed his head into the table. He would have, but Ren chances of Tadashi opening himself up more to him would have decreased by a ten fold.

Later, when Yamaguchi had escaped to his room, Ren sat on the couch and read the news paper. Even with Tadashi in the house, it was quiet. His boys were never this quiet. They were usually jumping on the walls, calling each other as they played on their PSP’s and such. It was constant noice from the two of them, unless they were asleep.

He made his way, quietly, up the stairs and knocked on Tadashi bedroom door and waited for a soft “Come in” before he entered.

Tadashi was lying on his stomach on the floor. Pencils and papers were scattered around him and the freckled boy seemed occupied with his drawings. Tadashi turned back to his work, albeit he looked a little more tense than he should have looked. There were a few that looked like pokemons, and yes, he remembered most of them. Both his boys had their pokemon phase when they were younger. He had endured much of Ash and his friends adventures through the years. There were some drawings of skyscrapers, that Ren suspected was because Tadashi recently had moved to Tokyo, and had seen a lot more of those big buildings.

He still remembered Tadashi astonished face as he saw a skyscraper for the first time when they went out of the suburbs and into the city.

The drawing he worked on now was clearly a stick figure of him and what he suspected was his mother. They were holding hands and had big smiles on their faces. Tadashi had drawn their freckles with three spots on each cheek for the both of them. In the background was a pale yellow house. It was their hose. Ren didn't know why he got so happy by seeing Tadashi choosing their house, instead of the apartment building he had back in Miyagi. He had also filled the paper with drawings of flowers, one that were taller than Aoi. It was clearly a work by a devoted nine year old.

“That looks nice.” Ren hummed as he crouched down to Tadashi’s level.

“Thanks, it’s for Oka-san.” Tadashi chipped soundly as he switched his blue pencil for a green one.

Ren decided to lay beside of him, on his stomach. He watched him work for a few seconds.

“Do you make her drawings often?”

Tadashi looked at him. Big brown eyes were gazing over his hazel ones. “I always make drawings for Oka-san when she is traveling without me.” He turned quickly back to his paper. He was working on the sun in the corner. It had sunglasses. Ren felt himself smile. His boys also used to draw the sun with sunglasses, it didn't make sense, but it i was a nice touch. “It makes her happy when I draw to her.”

Ren nodded. He already knew Tadashi was an empathic child. When Eiichi had fallen ill with a light cold, Tadashi, despite being shy in front of all of them, had given the older boy one of his dangos. There were no surprise in why Tadashi choose to make a gifts for his mom when she was out of town for the night.

“Hey, Tadashi-kun, can I draw with you?”

Tadashi looked at him. He didn't know if he was surprised or not, he had yet to learn how to read the brown eyed boy’s expressions. When Tadashi got up to give him a white piece of paper and kindly set his pencils between the two of them, Ren knew he got a ‘yes’ from the other.

Ren had never been an artist, which was the reason he also made stick figures and had the sun in the far corner. And sides, his skill couldn't even match the work of Tadashi's.

Ren made the whole family. He drew himself and Aoi holding hands and made Tetsurō, Eiichi and Tadashi hold hands. He hoped the little gesture made his step son happy.

“It that us?” Tadashi asked and glanced over to the side.

“Yes, yes it is.” Rin said, feeling his cheek getting rosy. “Do you like it?”

Tadashi smiled. “Yes, I do.” He sat up and looked over his own drawing. “Oka-san will be happy we drew for her.” He said and Ren nodded back.

They cleaned up the pencil and papers, and Rin helped Tadashi put his new drawings in a folder he had by his small desk.

“Hey, Tadashi, you like pokemon, right?”

The mention of pokemon had his full attention. He had stars in his eyes. Tadashi obviously caught himself off guard, because he quickly looked away and started playing with the hem of his shirt, ears getting pink.

“You see, Tetsu-chan and Eii-chan really likes pokemon too. We have some of the old movies, too.��

“You do?” Tadashi asked, eagerly. He let go of his shirt and Ren could feel the excitement radiating from him. He laughed fondly at the boy.

“Yes, we do.” Ren opened the door out to the halway. “If you want to, we can watch one. We can eat some snacks and sit on the couch.”

“Yes, let’s do that.” He shrieked in joy. It was the first time Ren had heard Tadashi raise his voice. Even when Tadashi was crying, he had done that so quietly. Ren was surprised when Tadashi grabbed his pants and started to tug him out of his room and into the living room.

“Say, you set the couch ready and I get the snacks. The movies are beside the dvd player. Choose the one you want to see.” Tadashi lets go of him and carried on with the important task of finding a movie while Ren made his way to the kitchen.

He first thought of making a bowl with some candy they had around, but remembered that Aoi had told him that Tadashi prefered other snacks instead of sweets.

He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but he does love chips, preferably made with paprika flavour.

He smiled as he fished out a bag of flavoured chips. He also took out some chocolate milk for the both of them.

Tadashi had picked out the first pokemon movie and had already seated himself on the sofa. He had pulled his blanket over him and was eagerly waiting with the remote in his hand.

He put the bowls on the table and pulled it closer to the couch so it would be easier to reach for Tadashi and sat down beside the boy. He did give them some space, no point in making Tadashi uncomfortable.

Tadashi was glued to the movie. He laughed at the funny parts and snorted at the ridiculous ones. Ren could see how he held his breath before an action scene. To be such a timid child, Tadashi was fairly expressive.

Nearing the end, Tadashi clung to his arms and presses his face into his sweater.

“I don’t like the scene when Ash turns into stone.” Tadashi says, voice wavering. He still looked at the tv screen. Ren was reminded that Aoi said something about Tadashi getting sympetich with the characters.

This was his chance. The way he handled this situation would determinate how their relationship would grow.

Ren slowly raised the hand Tadashi was clutching. The boy tensed without his safety net, but didn't look at him. Ren then slowly reached for Tadashi's shoulders and tucked him close to himself.

With Tadashi half hugged to his side, Ren felt giddy as the boy didn't try to get away from him. He blamed half of it on the pokemon movie that Tadashi was engulfed in. But he stayed and he reached again for Ren arm and his small hands clutched Ren’s sweater.

It felt kind of like when Testurō and Eiichi were here watching with him, but entirely different at the same time. Ren had been so worried about asking Aoi to move in with him and his children. He had been worried they wouldn’t like the big city and move back. Ren was sure he would travel to the worlds end for Aoi. He loved her, and getting along with her son was important for the both of them. Having Tadashi sitting by his side, made Ren sure that their relationship would work out just fine. He would die for his of children, and he would die for Tadashi.

Tadashi had a smile on his face again when Ash was saved by all the pokemons and came back into life. It was late for him, twenty minutes past his normal bed time. Aoi maybe scold him if she ever found out.

“Hey, want to watch another one?” Ren asked. Tadashi looked up at him and beamed.

45 minted after they started the second movie, Tadashi had long since dozed off against Ren’s side. The chips bowls had somehow made it into the couch and Ren was sure he needed to vacuum it in the morning. There were crumbs everywhere.

He set them aside, slowly, and tried not to jostle the nine year old too much. Slowly and carefully, he picked him up and carried him to his bedroom. He was careful when he tucked him in bed, not wanting to wake him up. When he messed up this action with his two older boys, they would always wake up and it would always time to fall back asleep.

Tadashi didn't wake, but he did roll over to hug his pillow on the side. His head wasn’t even on the pillow. Ren watched as Tadashi made some incoherent sounds in his sleep before he truly seemed to settle. This kid was truly a treat.

Ren tucked him in and went to turn off the lights, not before he pecked the boy on the head and ruffled his hair- like he did with his own two children. Tadashi would never know that he kissed him goodnight, and Ren was content with keeping this moment only to himself.

He glanced at the small boy once before he shut the door quietly.

Out in the hallway, Ren almost squealed in joy. He didn't. He didn't want to wake the sleeping boy, but he felt unbelievably happy when cleaned up after their little movie night.

The next day, Tadashi was still a little wary. Tetsurō and Eiichi had come home from their friends, and between filling in their dad on what they did on their sleepover and and bothering their shy little brother, the home was quiet.

“Tadaima.” Came the chipper voice of Aoi. Ren watched as Tadashi ran through the kitchen to get to his mother with his two elder brothers in heel.

“Okaeri.” Ren said and helped his girlfriend with the bags she carried.

“Is that gifts for us.” Tetsurō asked, and tried to peek into the bag.

“Tetsu-chan, don’t be noosy.” Ren chided them. He supposed their rowdy personality came from him, but it was still a little embarrassing. Especially since Tadashi was the opposite.

“Sorry, Otou-san, I just wanted to see my gift.” That was Eiichi and Ren reddeen with emmabressent,

“Boys, I am sorry, I don't have any gifts,” Aoi started. Tadashi was holding her hand and the five of them walked into the kitchen. “It’s just a cake and a few cookies I got from my family. I thought we could have them after dinner.”

Both boys shouted out a ‘yes’ and suddenly the bags weren't that interesting.

“Oka-san, wait here.” Tadashi started and held out his hands in a stop sign. He was oddly serious for his age. “I have something for you.”

Socked feet running was heard as Tadashi made his way towards his room. He came back moments later, carrying the two drawings they made together.

“Oka-san, I made a drawings for you.” Tadashi gave it to her, and then started tugging as his shirt as he waited for Aoi to inspect his art.

“Dashi, it is beautiful.” Aoi crouched down and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek as she nuzzled him closer. “I love, it. You even drew us in Tokyo.”

“Ren-san drew too.”

He felt startled. Aoi raised and amused eyebrow at him. Ren chuckled helplessly as he showed the drawing he made of all of them.

“Oh my, thank you.” Aoi said as she raised to her feet. She ruffled her son hair before she met his eyes. “Thank you. I love it.” She kissed him lightly on the lips before she made her way towards the fridge and hung both if her gifts up on the fridge. Oh so it was fridge worthy. What an honour.

“Yeah, me an Tadashi-kun made them together.”

Her whole face lit up. She knew he had been stressed over their relationship, especially since it seems that Tetsurō and Eiichi warmed up to her only after a few days of them living together.

“Did you guys really do that!” She smiled back at him, and Ren loved that smile of her.

Ren scratched the back of his neck and nodded. He smiled, remembering their night. “Yes, and we even watched pokemon.” He helped her pull up the items from the bag and place them where they belonged. “He even held my arm in the end when he got scared. Aoi-chan, Tadashi hugged me, willingly.”

Even Aoi looked surprised. “Wow, he really did that.”

Ren nodded so hard he might start to feel dizzy. He beamed back at Aoi. “Yes! I had to carry him to bed after he fell asleep.”

Aoi’s shoulder seemed to relax. She had reassured him many times since they moved in that Tadashi just needed to get used to his presence and him as a person. He had never known a guy that didn't want to hurt him, except for that Tsukishima-boy Tadashi chatted on and on about. But even Aoi had been worried about Tadashi’s wariness for his step dad. She still didn't want to force anything on him, that would only make the situation worse.

“I told you he would warm up to you.” Aoi said, and they both looked up the staircase as they heard Tetsurō and Eiichi inviting themselves into Tadashi's room.

“Yeah,” Ren sighed as he heard Eiichi’s loud announcement that the three of them would play Mario Kart. Leaving no room to say no. “We are going to make this work.”

He smiled as he heard his two boisterous boys dragging his timid one to their room to play their games.

They were going to make this work.

#haikyuu!!#HQ #haikyuu #yamaguchi tadashi #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo eiichi #nekoma!yamauchi #basically-i-write-shit #au #my writing #i am too deep in this au #yamaguchi

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bebe-i-m-not-a-monster · 6 years

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Dreamcatcher - Part 1 - Yoo Kihyun Dreamcatcher AU

Genre: angst/ romance

Summary: What happens to all our bad dreams? Where do they go?

PART 1

Her dreams turned dark. That was the first time she saw him. Standing alone in the dense black fog that swirled through her mind, he looked like a statue; calm and tranquil, seemingly not bothered in the midst of the chaos and fear. His beautiful face was half shrouded in the darkness. His dark almond-shaped eyes watched her silently. But she wasn’t afraid. The thing that stood out the most in this dreary world her mind had created was his bright fiery red hair. It was the color of a Hawaiian sunset, a stark contrast to the garbled grays and blacks her mind had begun filling her dreams with lately.

“Who are you?” She shouted over the crashing thunder and lightning, but her voice was lost somewhere in the black void.

She stared at his face but didn’t recognize him. She had heard somewhere that faces in dreams were your mind conjuring up memories, but she didn’t recall seeing this beautiful boy anywhere. She was entirely sure she would have remembered his perfect features, those high cheekbones, beautiful heart-shaped lips, that strong nose, low brooding eyebrows, and a sharp jawline. All she knew for sure was the moment he showed up inside her dreams, the overwhelming fear began to fade away. As he stood there just watching her, not saying a word, the thick fog slowly dissipated. The howling winds died down to a soft breeze that caressed her face. The oppressing darkness brightened to a soft gray-blue, like that of spring’s early morning light. She gazed around at her dreamscape, a total change from what it had been a few minutes before. A slow smile appeared on the mysterious boy’s face before he faded from her sight.

It had been three days since her last nightmare; since she had seen the boy with fiery red hair. Every time her mind would cave in on her, he would suddenly appear seemingly out of thin air to lead her back to safety. But she never got the chance to ask him who he was or why he was there inside her dreams. Wondering what his name was, or if she would ever see him again, she sighed. She never even got a chance to say goodbye.

Sitting in class, she tried to pay attention to the constant droning of the teacher’s lesson on the laws of physics, but it was just so dull. Absentmindedly, she glanced down at the doodle she had been working on. Her pencil lulled above the lined notebook paper. High cheekbones, heart-shaped lips, almond-shaped eyes... A blush crept across her cheeks, as her heart fluttered at the memories. She sighed again. Why could she not get the mysterious boy out of her head?

Walking home from school in the cold September rain, she dreaded the thought of going back there. Ever since her dad left, her house was nothing more than an empty shell; a roof overhead that held nothing but bad memories. Her mom was gone most of the time, busy with work. The house was lonely, cold. It didn’t always use to be this way. There was a time when she could smile because her family was whole. Now she felt broken inside. Her dreams had turned to nightmares. Her only hope was to fall asleep and see the mysterious boy with the red hair one more time.

Stepping inside, she took off her muddy shoes by the door and hung her soggy jacket up on a hook to dry. The house was dark. There was a note on the fridge. Her mother had gone out with friends to forget her troubles and drink. Thankfully, there was leftover pizza on the counter. She grabbed a slice and climbed the stairs headed to her bedroom, the only place of solace she felt comfortable in. Putting on her headphones, she turned the music up loud trying to drown out the world, to squelch the feelings of despair and heartache. She drifted off into a fitful slumber while trying to finish her math homework.

She was running. Running, but she didn't know where. She was stuck in her own mind with no way out. The ache in her heart grew, and so did the oppressive grip on her lungs. Panic rose in her throat as she searched for a way out of the darkness. Hot tears began to fall, staining her cheeks and dress.

“Take my hand.” She heard a calm voice. It came out in a gentle whisper. A hand reached out of the darkness and grasped hers tightly. A wave of comfort washed over her.

Looking up, she drew in a sharp breath as the face attached to it came into view. It was him. Her mystery boy. He smiled. A beautiful, brilliant smile that made her feel fluttery inside.

“What are you doing here?” It was the first question that popped into her head.

He grinned playfully; it was a glorious sight. “I’m here to rescue you.” With that, they ran hand in hand. Soon the endless dark faded to a shade of warm gold. She let out a small laugh at the joyful hope that crept into her heart, a strange, abnormal feeling she wasn’t used to. But before she could thank him for saving her, he had disappeared...again.

The rain outside grew louder. Lightning flashed followed by the shattering rumble of thunder. She awoke with a start, pulling the headphones off her ears. Howling winds blew and scratched the tree branches against her window pane. An eerie silence set in as she realized the electricity had gone out. Stumbling around in the dark, she finally found her phone and used it’s screen and a flashlight to make her way back downstairs. There were a couple candles in the pantry. Her mother was still not back yet. Maybe she had decided to sleep off her hangover somewhere else. Oh, how she wished she could escape this wretched life she was tied to.

With a heavy sigh, she climbed the stairs again, placing the lit candle on her dresser. Her phone had 30% battery life left. She turned off the screen; better save it in case of emergency. Turning back to her bed, she gave a startled cry. Dark almond-shaped eyes were staring back at her perched on the windowsill.

“Am I dreaming?” She asked cautiously, taking a single step forward, towards the mysterious boy.

He shook his head, making some of the fluffy red curls fall into his eyes.

They stared at each other for a moment, no words exchanged. She took in the full sight of the handsome boy in the dim flicker of candlelight. Well built but slim, he stood leaning back against the windowsill with his hands braced on the ledge behind him, head cocked to the side as he watched her; a small smile played on his lips. He wore a pale blue shirt and black pants, and a striking leather dreamcatcher necklace adorned with brightly colored feathers hung around his slender neck.

She blushed, realizing she had been staring. “What’s your name?” Changing the subject, she hoped to clear the awkward air.

“Name’s Kihyun.” He bowed slightly.

Kihyun… She repeated the name in her head. It fit him so well. She had tried to guess what his name might be but nothing she ever came up with was good enough, they never did him justice.

Cautiously, she crept over to the bed and sat down. “Why are you here?” The smile he gave her made her heart feel strange and beautiful.

“I told you, I’m here to rescue you.”

Now she was perplexed. How was he inside her dreams and standing in front of her as well? Was he some sort of modern-day Peter Pan? Or an angel perhaps?

It was like he could sense her questions. “I’m a Dreamcatcher.” His words confused her even more. He took a single stride forward and sat down on the edge of her bed, his beautiful eyes gazing back at her.

Her curious gaze fell to the woven leather and feathers hanging from his neck.

His hand slowly reached up to touched one of the maroon and black striped plumes. Lifting the strand of leather over his head, he pulled off his necklace, placing it in her hand. “You are my new owner. Dreamcatchers catch bad dreams and turn them good, and you have a lot of them. That’s what drew me to you.”

She glanced up from the woven necklace in her hand, blushing under his intense gaze. “I’m still confused….”

His light chuckle was like music to her ears. “It’s alright. I’ll explain it later. We have plenty of time. Get some rest now; I know you’re tired.” He smiled again, a charming, breathtaking smile.

Frantic at the thought of being alone again, she stumbled through her words, not realizing before she spoke. “Are you leaving again?”

He found her cute and amusing. His hand reached out to lightly brush the hair off of her face. “No, I’m not leaving. You hold the necklace, so you are my owner now. I will watch over your dreams and be here whenever you need me.”

A pink blush dusted her cheeks. His touch was as light as a feather. Even though she barely knew anything about him, her heart never felt as safe with anyone but him. Curling up under the covers, her eyelids grew heavy as she gazed up at the dark lines of his face in the soft candlelight with his hand gently stroking her hair.

The next morning, her bleary eyes opened to find her room empty and the electricity back on. At least she could take a shower before going to school. She sighed. Maybe it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. Had she been that lonely that she invented a friend to talk to? While sitting up in bed, her hand landed on something hard. Looking down, her breath caught in her throat. Laying beside her on the mattress was the little woven dreamcatcher necklace, the red and blue feathers tickling her arm.

In an overly excited hopeful rush, she bounded out of bed. “Kihyun?” No answer. She raced down the stairs. “KIHYUN?” She yelled louder.

“What?” A voice spoke behind her from the kitchen.

She spun on her heels and just about had a heart attack at the sight of the mysterious boy standing in her kitchen, making waffles...shirtless.

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