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dudecreature · 1 year

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Clean Shaven

Pairing: [Established] Price x GN! Reader Synopsis: Price shaves his beard after a mission goes haywire. Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: descriptions of razors A/N: I feel like I was MIA (´～`) it is finals season after all. - the reader's callsign is Bullseye (they're a sniper and I am unoriginal lol) and - we are definitely not going to talk about how I had to google whether a movie would be on a DVD or a CD... - Enjoy! Like and reblog if you did <3

“Fuckin’ HELL. Soap!”

“Price! Shite! I’m so sorry!!”

That is all that was heard over the comms. You and Gaz shot a mix of concerned and confused looks at each other on the rooftop they were currently located. Soap and Price were the ones to infiltrate the building to find the information they needed, then blow it all to hell. You were there to provide sniper assistance and Gaz was there to fly the helicopter (he got his license and no way in hell was he going to let anyone else do that. not with his track record).

“Price, Soap. How copy?” Gaz said through the comms. There was silence for a short while, but you could still see movement through the windows of the compound. They seemed like they were still alive and hopefully uninjured. you kept your eyes through the scope tracking both men through the building, waiting with bated breath to hear back from them.

“Guys, how copy?” You had asked over the comms after Gaz had already asked twice. It was frustrating silence, but you understood not having a safe opening to answer comms. Suddenly the comms crackle back to life from their end.

“Copy fine Bullseye, nice an’ crispy.” Price sounded angry and he hesitated at the last bit. Soap was going to get it this time. According to the mission, the team needed to get as much information as possible, and then blow the place to smithereens. Price knew what they were looking for, and Soap liked to make things go boom. The pairing made sense at the time.

You looked at Gaz in bewilderment 'What the hell is he talking about?' printed across their faces. Gaz could only shrug, he knew as much as you did. Soap and Price ended up splitting through the rooms. Price headed to the office where all of the files were stored and Soap to find the weak points of the buildings.

"Soap I've got as much as I can find. You ready to detonate those planted bombs, mate?" Price's gruff voice sounded in your ear. You smile to yourself, proud of the man as always. In and out with no injuries, as it should be. Soap chatters off an excited reply and the two exit the building.

You watch through the scope of your rifle as the two stealthily exit the building. You notice that something seems… off about Price. You can sense the scowl from where they are from a hundred meters away. He looked a little different, though you couldn’t quite place it.

You could finally place it once the two had gotten closer. Soap trailed behind a grouchy Price. Oh... Oh no... Oh no no no. You now understood why Price was so grouchy.

Half of his beard was burnt off. The left half of his face looked naked, the hair on his face was half burnt. The charred hair traveled from his nose all the way up his cheek and near his ear. Barely missing his precious hat.

“What the hell happened to you?” You were unabashedly shocked at what you had seen. You trodded up to the pair with Gaz at their side, Bullseye and Gaz stared at their captain in awe. The former had packed their things quickly to get out of there quickly. You had gotten in close to assess the damage to his beard, their hands ghosting over his cheek and above his lip.

“I’m fine darling, don't fuss ‘bout it.” He paused and shot a thumb back at a very remorseful Soap and said “This one was playin' with a lighter he found and lit my beard on fire.” His hands found yours and held them while you traced his cheekbone. He looked down at them with tender eyes, appreciating the fact you were worried about him, but hated the look on your face. He leaned down to their left ear, the intact half of his beard scratching their face slightly, and whispered to them,

“Jus’ a bit of cosmetic damage.” He kissed your cheek and neck quickly before moving to get in the helicopter. You sighed at the loss of contact, threw your stuff on the bed of the helicopter, and climbed in. Gaz at the wheel the group got into the air and flew over the enemy compound. With confirming word from Price, Soap excitedly detonated the bombs he had placed and the place erupted into flames and fell to rubble in a matter of seconds. You could almost feel the heat of the flames that engulfed where the building once stood.

You looked to Price to admire him, only to catch his eye. You smiled softly at the captain and looked down at what was left of his beard. He saw this and touched the charred hair, cringing at how different it felt. It had been a while since he could feel the wind on his upper lip, it made him shift his mouth awkwardly. He needed a reflection to judge just how bad it was, and to decide how he would deal with it.

Price knew that his lover liked his beard, you had often commented on how it tickled when they kissed (among other things *wink wink*), and would help him groom it on occasion. His beard was a staple of his look, aside from his hat, and having to part with it gave him a sense of anxiety he hadn’t ever felt before. He worried how his Bullseye would feel if he had to shave it all off, maybe he could keep a little of it just to hopefully keep them with him. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Bullseye bumped his shoulder.

“Hey, it’ll be alright love, it grows back.” You said with endearment. He huffed a response and scratched awkwardly at his face still. When the group arrived back to base Price was able to hide the accident behind his hand in the debrief, the darkness of the room aiding him. Once the four were dismissed he was the first to leave the room, bustling down the halls praying no one saw him.

You followed at a slower pace, allowing for the man much-needed space from everyone. When you arrived at the door of their shared room you knocked gently calling out for him. When you had heard a response you then asked if you could join him. The door suddenly opened and he looked down at them with a look in his eyes that you were not able to place.

“It’s your room too you know, of course you can come in,” he grumbled and made space for them to make their way into the room.

“I know, I just wanted to give you the option of having a moment to yourself, love.” Bullseye responded in a soft and caring tone. You knew how much he liked his facial hair, and he also knew how much you liked his facial hair. However, you wanted to check in on him first. you sat on the shared bed and patted the spot next to them, offering a seat to the Captain.

He sat down next to them with a soft sigh and leaned his head on their shoulder. you were trying to comfort him and he knew this. Accepting the gentle affection and support, he closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn't the type to talk about his insecurities or when he was feeling anything but confident, but there was something inherently trustworthy about Bullseye. It had drawn him in the first time they had met so many years ago.

“Will you help me fix this?” he asked in a soft tone. you nodded and stroked his back. As he stood, you stood with him and followed him into his personal bathroom. you knew where everything was, so you pulled out the scissors, shears, and the razor and shaving cream. Taking a washcloth, you had run it under warm water and heated it to a very comforting temperature. Price was pushed to sit on a chair that was brought into the bathroom, right in front of the large mirror. Bullseye stood in front of him as you wrung out the washcloth of excess water. When you turned, Price was looking up at them, with so much love in his eyes one would think that he hadn’t been a hardened soldier for nearly two decades.

you smile softly at the man, gently take his hat off, and place the warm cloth on the bottom half of his face. After a few silent minutes, you took the washcloth off and wiped as much of the grime left on his face as you could. You took your time and were able to admire the man's face. The way his eyebrows furrowed when they got close to his eyes. The straight bridge of his nose and the crow's feet developing near the corners of his eyes. You suddenly broke the silence as gently as you could.

“Are we trying to salvage the chops or are we going for a clean shave?” you ran their hands through the right half of his face, scratching at the salvaged portion of the beard. He grumbled and his top lip twitched in thought. you waited patiently for the man to make up his mind and you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Do you think it can be saved?” he asked slightly hopeful, but honestly he knew there was no chance of saving it. He ran a gentle hand down the burnt hairs on his face and sighed; he looked up at them catching their eyes. you shook their head solemnly, just as he figured. “Clean-shaven it is then, love.”

you nodded in response and grabbed the army-issued shaving cream and his straight razor. you gather some of the shaving cream into the palm of their hand before gently lathering it over his cheeks, and chin.

“Ready?” you ask, looking at him waiting for an answer. He took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes still looking at you. They never left. Bullseye takes the handle of the razor and carefully glides it down his right cheek. The sharp blade takes all of the hair with it leaving the soft skin of his cheek exposed to the air.

Bullseye wipes the stolen hair onto a towel next to the sink. Readying for another stroke you look down at Price, his eyes closed in a relaxed state. You smile to yourself and continue their actions, curving with the shapes of his face, and being careful not to knick him.

After you had fully finished shaving his face (you even cleaned up his eyebrows a little), you put the washcloth back onto his face. It had been rewarmed by the water. Ensuring to get all the leftover hair off, you then put his aftershave on his cheeks.

Price had then opened his eyes when he felt the slight sting of the aftershave, but he didn't flinch. He hesitated before looking from their eyes to the mirror. When he did he was slightly shocked, he had forgotten how much older the beard had made him look. His beard definitely added about 5 years to his looks. After examining his face for a few moments, he looked back to the other person in the room.

“Well… how do I look, darling?” He looked up at you expectantly (and with so much rizz). You chucked at the goofy face he made and shook your head with a smile.

“You look as pretty as always.” You shoot back at him. You turn around and begin cleaning up the impromptu barber shop. He stood up from his seat and admired your work, his hand rubbing where his chops once were. Once you had finished cleaning up your station you had turned back around to face him. You wrapped your arms around his torso and smiled at him lovingly.

“Do ya wanna go watch a movie?” you ask him. The common room would be a good place for you to both unwind (in the most wholesome of ways). All you wanted to do was curl up with him and watch one of the movies on base. He hummed a confirming nod and squeezed you back. He led the way to the common room after you separated.

Price was thankful for the lack of people in the halls, he didn't want to have to deal with the odd looks and stares he would likely have gotten if there were anyone there. The two of you made your way through the halls, your pinkies intertwined, gently guiding each other.

As the two of you make it to the common room, you cross over the threshold of the doorway and are greeted by three other figures. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost have already claimed the common room as their choice of relaxation. The three men notice your presence at roughly the same time, and an awkwardly tense silence fills the space. The three of them, with their heads all locked onto the two of you still frozen in the doorway, shock visible in each of their faces.

Soap’s face configures from shock to that of what looked like genuine horror. Ghost’s eyes were wide and unmoving from Price’s face and Gaz’s mouth hung open, unable to comprehend the new look their Captain was given. You managed to stifle your laughter but a smile still tugged its way to your cheeks, you had never seen them so emotive before. Price sighed and tried to hide his face saying

“Take a bloody picture, it’ll last longer you muppets,” he grumbled aggravated at the attention.

“Did I do that?!” Soap yelled at a volume able to burst ear drums. He leapt from his seat on the couch and stood in front of Price with his head bowed downward.

“I am so sorry, Price!” he all but wept in the older man's arms at the apology. The silence from the other two men in the room was noticed when you and Price found yourselves looking at them, waiting for their input on the situation.

Ghost stayed still as ever, unmoving and steady.

“Put it back,” he muttered, barely audible. You make a noise of confusion, that Ghost reads as if you were not able to hear him.

“Put. It. Back.” he says with a more stern tone. You burst out a laugh unable to contain it. They all look at you in confusion and when you notice you stumble something about how stupid the three of them look right now. Gaz still mouth wide open finally shuts it and states very proudly

“Well, I think it looks great. You have a very handsome face.” His arms are crossed over his chest and he is nodding in confidence. Price deadpans at his statement and sighs for what feels like the millionth time that day. His beard was going to grow back totally gray at the rate of these idiots.

You put your hand on the top of Price’s back and tell the team that the two of you were going to wind down with a movie of Price’s choice. After the initial shock had worn off the two still on the couch, they agreed. Soap however still looked upset at himself, and every time he looked at Price he frowned a little more.

Price pulled the man aside and barely within earshot tells Soap he wasn’t that mad about it, but he would be on bathroom and dish duty for the next four months. You chuckle to yourself at his punishment and ready the movie on an old DVD player that Gaz had brought to the base. Classic Price chose a Clint Eastwood movie to watch.

The two of you curled onto the loveseat together while the other three sat on the couch. Price held your hand the entire movie and when you leaned to whisper into his ear he leaned down to hear you.

“How long will it take to grow back… Ghost wants to know." That last bit was definitely a lie. Price knew this, chuckled, and pushed your face away from him. You let out an undignified noise and kissed his hand looking at him. You smiled and mouthed the words that he would parrot back to you for the rest of your lives.

“I love you.”

#dudewrites #dudecreature #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price x female reader #john price x gn reader #call of duty #cod x reader #fluff #john price fluff

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cowgurrrl · 8 months

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now that i think about it, though, actress!reader and rockstar!joel having their own stars on the walk of fame would be iconic! the stans would be freaking out and ofc their families would be supportive

Hello I spent way too long writing these speeches??

You would both agree that because it’s such a big deal and you’ll probably already be crying all day to not speak at each other’s ceremony. It’s enough that the other and all the people you love and care for are there to support. Joel’s ceremony is a week before yours because you’re in different industries and he’s been in the public eye for longer than you. Which is fine because you’re weirdly nervous for your own ceremony. You’d much rather watch him get his first so you know what to expect.

The day of, you wear a simple, pretty black dress and gather your entire family into the car to get to Hollywood. The kids, all being 12 and above, don’t require as much supervision as they have in the past and are free to greet aunts and uncles they haven’t seen in a while. They quickly disperse in a chorus of, “Uncle Dave!” “Uncle Harry!” “Aunt Patti!” and more. You stay close to Joel before the ceremony actually starts and you’re relegated to the front row and he smiles sweetly as he kisses your cheek.

“Thanks for bein’ here.” He says and you smile and squeeze his bicep.

“Thanks for inviting me.” You say. You mingle through the crowd together, his hand always on your waist, in yours, or ruffling the hair of a passing child or grandchild that looks weirdly like him. When the ceremony begins, you sit in the front and he shoots you a wink from the podium before he starts giving his speech. Of course, he thanks his producers, band mates, managers, and everyone else as he spins the yarn of the young single-dad who showed up in LA with a dream and practically nothing else. Every once in a while, he looks up from his paper to meet your eyes and you nod to encourage him. Sometimes mouthing, “you got it.” He nods back and goes back to his words.

“I wouldn’t be near where I am today if it weren’t for my family. My brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria, and their daughter, Lucy, never let me forget my roots and keep me grounded as the Texas boy I am. The little girl I showed up with is now a psychologist who’s way smarter than I’ll ever be, and a wonderful wife and mother to two little ones— Isaac and Eleanor. The daughter that isn’t of my blood but is of my soul is now a tattoo-covered drummer with an attitude that impresses even her Aunt Patti, an activist fighting for LGBTQ+ rights all across the world, and an amazing mother to a not-so-little JJ. My first son who’s given us a run for our money from the second he was born spends more time playin’ baseball than the guitar and we love him for it. My twin girls, our final Millers, never miss a beat and not only keep me on my toes but keep me updated on the latest TikTok trend so their old dad doesn’t go out of style just yet,” he says. Sophia and Violet giggle down the line of your family as you sit there and watch him. His eyes meet yours and you catch them misting over and you’re a goner.

“And my incredible wife who’s been patient, understanding, and gentle beyond belief for eighteen years. You are forever and always my inspiration, my rock, my best friend, and my confidant. The only reason I was able to make Grammy-winning albums and go on tour is because you stayed home with our kids for the first two years of their life. I know it wasn’t easy and there were days when we both wondered if we made the right decision. I hope you feel like we did. The sacrifices I’ve made are nothing compared to yours and I will do everything I can to repay you for that. This star— this accomplishment— is as much yours as it is mine. I love you with everything I am and everything I could ever be. Thank you.” His words hit your heart and all at once, all five of your kids are reaching across each other to grab your hand, touch your wrist, your knee, any part of you they can reach. You laugh and kiss each of their hands as you wipe your eyes. He looks at you with raised eyebrows, looking for approval, and you nod.

“I love you,” you mouth.

“I love you, too,” he mouths back.

At your ceremony, a week later, you stand on the same stage he did and look down at your family. The day’s emotions have made you especially teary and seeing all their sweet faces doesn’t do you any favors. “Alright, I’m gonna try to do this without crying,” you say, making everyone laugh. You thank your team and all the people you absolutely need to thank before turning to where you know Carolina, Ryan, Elizabeth, Victoria, and Penny are sitting.

“I met Carolina Garcia and Ryan Long while looking for a roommate for my 1,200 square foot apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. I was twenty and in the middle of my studies at NYU when Carolina responded to my Craig’s List ad. She said she didn’t have any pets, allergies, or baggage with her except for her boyfriend, Ryan. I was skeptical but agreed to meet him and thus began our decades-long friendship. When Carolina booked her first big TV gig, she threw my name in the hat and helped launch my career. Over the years, Carolina, Ryan, and their daughters have become cornerstones in my life. They made me a godmother and costar when they didn’t have to. They’re kind, selfless people and I owe who I am to them,” you say.

“Carolina and Ryan were also present when I met my husband, Joel Miller, and watched me fall in love with him. Carolina drunkenly told me during our wedding reception that she knew Joel was the one when I told her I could not only tolerate, but sleep through, his snoring,” Joel laughs a little too hard at the anecdote from his spot in the front when all five of the Miller children nod in agreement.

“Over our twenty-year relationship and eighteen-year marriage, Joel has given me support, love, and a family. I met his daughters, Sarah and Ellie, when they were 18 and 14, and although I didn’t bring them into this world, they gladly welcomed me into theirs. They were exceptionally patient and sweet as I adjusted to life with them and their father and let me love them as if they were my own. I never thought I could be a mother, but they helped prove me wrong. Quickly, we went from a family of four to a family of seven with the addition of Sam and our twins, Sophia and Violet, but through it all, the three of you made it easy to be a mom. Even then, all of you made me want to be a better mom, a better wife, a better actress, a better person. With the five of you, I felt unstoppable. I share this achievement with all of you as I do my love. Being your wife, mother, friend, godmother, and Nanny has been the greatest ride of my life. I love you. Thank you.”

Your family embraces you the second you’re off the stage and soon social media floods with pictures of Joel lifting you off the ground and spinning you around, kissing you, and holding your hand or waist for the rest of the day. You get sweet comments and congratulations from fans and other people in the industry. People Magazine celebrates the two of you as “The Most Successful Couple in Hollywood” and praises you for your speeches. You could give a thousand speeches and none of them could ever come close to describing what it feels like to watch Joel play with the kids and grandkids and nieces and nephews.

None of them could ever come close to encapsulating how much love you have for him and the life you get to lead together.

#one for the money two for the show #oftm family #oftm #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #rockstar!joel miller #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller au #joel miller fluff

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beantothemax · 1 year

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ANGST DOUBLETEAM LETS GO (more WIP stuff)

“A thief is a thief is a thief, you oughta know that by now!” Miguel cackled. “You seem real fond of your little cutpurse friend there. Do you have any idea what he’s done?”

“Shut up!” Thwack - the clearing echoed as Alfyn’s axe missed its mark and hit the reinforced core of a spear.

“I wonder how many people he’s killed? How many children he’s held for ransom? More than a few, I’ll bet.”

“I said shut up!” Thunk - the glade rang as Alfyn’s fist collided with the body of a second spear, too incensed to dedicate himself to freeing his axe.

“Don’t listen to him,” Therion shouted. “He’s trying to rile you up.” He knew these tactics. Sling insults to throw people off their guard, get them enraged so they fight sloppier. Risky, but highly effective if what you need is a few openings. A favorite of someone else he used to know, a different thief that he had met in Saintsbridge. In another time, another life, one that had ended tragically six years prior.

“Yeah, medicine man,” Miguel sneered. Something in Therion twinged, hearing the nickname he had given Alfyn, a condescending moniker turned fond epithet, twisted back into the snarling insult it started as. “You ought to listen to your boyfriend. He knows every trick in the book. How to use, how to abuse, how to take.”

“Hah, ‘boyfriend’, reeeal original.” Therion scoffed, slowly circling around to flank, steeling himself against the all-too familiar jabs that made him think of the iron of fresh wounds in his mouth and the beating sun of the cliftlands. “Why don’t you call me a ‘worthless thief’ again while you’re at it?”

“Ooh, how cold, little tea leaf!” The words dripping out of the mercenary’s mouth made Therion stiffen on instinct. Tea leaf. Only one other person ever called him that. His reaction was slight, but visible enough that Miguel’s sneer grew by a few molars. He had him right where he wanted him. “Ah, there it is. You see, medicine man?” He turned back to Alfyn. “A thief is a thief is a thief. We only care about one thing, and it’s ourselves.”

“You say that like you know him.” It was unusual to hear Alfyn growl. Even more unusual to hear him speak with genuine rage, simmering barely beneath the surface.

“Don’t need to.” Miguel tilted his head mockingly. “You know one, you know ‘em all. It’s a dirty business, this. And everyone’s got their little sob story. I bet you fell hook, line, and sinker for his, didn’t you?” Therion saw Alfyn’s grip tighten around the handle of his axe. His stomach sank. “Hey, you bought my story. I bet someone could tell you just about anything and you’d believe ‘em. He’s playin’ a long con on ya, mate. Hope you didn’t get your hopes up too much.” Miguel cackled again as Alfyn started to shake – Therion was at an angle where he couldn’t see his friend’s expression, but he could only imagine what had overtaken him. Rage, at this worthless idiot who could not speak in any language except cruelty. Horror, realization that he was right, that a thief was a thief was a thief, that he had invested far too much time and energy and care into someone who didn’t deserve an ounce of it.

Laughter. Incredulity, at the assumption that he ever cared about Therion in the first place. As if he was worth addressing with anything less than disdain.

“Ignore him!” Therion’s warning came out louder than he meant, his voice cracking with hurt. “Alfyn, don’t listen to him!” He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. Why was this hurting him so bad? Why did the idea of the stupid, stupid medicine man actually heeding this dipshit’s words make him want to scream, make him want to lose control and claw Miguel’s stupid eyes out of his shitty, good-for-nothing skull? “He’s a fucking liar, you know that!”

OHHHH MY GOD BLAZE. BLAZE…

hgggggfgghhhhhh miguel riling up alfyn by trying to make him doubt theri….. AUGH

THIS HURTS. THIS ONE HURT. MIGUEL DESERVES EVERY SINGLE OUNCE OF PAIN THAT THERION AND ALFYN ARE GIVING HIM

need these 2 to have a very long talk where alfyn is very clear about how much he loves theri.

#asks #spitblaze #inbox fic

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texasthrillbilly · 2 years

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#we could be life mates but you playin #the coneheads #dan akroyd #jane curtin #aliens #funny

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bokuroskitten · 4 years

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During the Discord Call

Paring: Gamer Kenma x Fem! Reader

Genre: NSFW 18+

Warnings: mentions of a poly relationship (with kuroo), voyeurism, cock warming, pantie gag, spit, Dom/Sub dynamic, “Sir” title, praise, this is just filth for your enjoyment

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Kenma has been playing his games for far too long, but considering he’s in the middle of a match he makes do.

You rolled over on the couch, a little groan leaving your lips as you slowly lifted yourself up onto an elbow. You didn’t even realize you had dozed off, let alone what time it was now as the sounds of guns shooting filled your senses.

You rubbed a palm over your eyes before looking to your side, seeing your legs were still sprawled over the lap of your boyfriend, Kenma. His arms rested over your legs as he kept his eyes glued to the screen, mumbling into his mic. You sighed a bit, not surprised by the fact that he was still gaming...

But a little disappointed. Considering Kuroo had been working nights the past couple days it had just been the two of you, and although gaming was a part of Kenma’s career, you were beginning to feel a bit needy.

“Babe.” You mumbled, shifting your legs a bit beneath Kenma. His eyes only glanced your way as he rose his arms, fingers still pressing away at the controller. “Yea baby?” He basically mumbled, before his lip curled into an annoyed frown— which you could only assume was because of the game.

You sighed softly, your foot slowly pressing along his abdomen. “You still playin...?” Kenma only nodded, speaking things about his game into the mic now like “go to the right and you’ll find the shooter.” Your pout grew in size as your patience wore thin. You pulled your legs from his lap completely and decided to change things up.

Kenma let out a little huff of air as your head was suddenly plopped in his lap, eyes wide and although a bit tired, wide and glossy. He didn’t pause the game though, rather he just lifted his mic, glanced between your pouting lips and the screen. “What is it baby?”

“Want attention.” You stated bluntly, fingers attempting to reach for his controller only for Kenma to raise his arms a bit, let out a soft tsk. “Lemme finish the game.” He spoke.

“You said that before I dozed offfffff~ “You were whining at this point and you didn’t care. It earned a little smirk on Kenma’s lips though, one that faded away quickly as he swore softly, button mashed a bit to get back in the lead. Your pout only continued to grow as you grabbed at his collar again, gave it a little tug. “Kooooz~”

Reluctantly Kenma paused his game, hearing the subtle complaints of his game mates before muting them as well. His brows were furrowed as he looked down at you, met your needy little gaze. “Don’t tug on me baby.” He stated as he placed his palm on your cheek, cupped it gently. You instantly melted into his palm, pressing your lips to his skin while keeping your gaze locked on him. “Don’t ignore me then... want attention...”

Kenma hummed softly, his grin coming back as you continued to place kisses along his palm, noticing the subtle way your thighs clenched together. His thumb traced over your bottom lip, and the way you slipped it between your petals to suck on it teasingly is what set Kenma over the edge. “Gotta finish the match kitten.”

You was already whining around his skin, but Kenma shushed you with the furrow of his brow, thumb pressing on your tongue. “Shush. ‘M not done. You have panties on?” Kenma was always one to get straight to the point, making a little flush come to your face as his free hand traveled to the bottom of the sweater you wore, the one that belonged to Kuroo. Although you nodded in response, he still tugged it up a bit, getting a peak of red underwear lines.

“Mm, take em off, sit in my lap.” He ordered as he sat up, slipping his thumb free from your lips and grabbing his controller once more. The little giggle you released as you basically bounced up, easily slid from your panties made Kenma chuckle softly.

Your giddiness made the tent in his shorts grow.

He mumbled an apology to his now unmuted game mates as you slide yourself into his lap, Kenma letting out a soft sigh from the heat that radiated from your slightly dampened core. Despite keeping his eyes on the screen, he managed to pull himself free from his shorts, the feeling of his length slapping against your rear and making you yelp. “K-Koz— “

You was cut off as he hushed you against your ear. “Quiet kitty. You wouldn’t want the boys to hear.” Kenma warned, placing a hand on your hip to aid you in sliding back. Biting down harshly on your lip you rose herself a bit, only to sit onto Kenma’s length and sheath him fully within your walls. Kenma could feel the way your core clenched about him greedily, the way your palms gripped desperately at his thighs as a little noise bubbled between your lips.

Once you were situated Kenma looped his arms around you again, hooking his chin over your shoulder and unpausing the game. “Where were we?” He spoke into the mic, eyes glancing to your flushed face as your eyes fluttered. Kenma could feel the way your walls desperately wanted him to move as they hugged his cock, but he had other plans in mind.

“You gunna just sit here and look pretty? Take what you want kitty.” Kenma urged into your ear, fingers pressing away at the controller and blush blooming darker on your face. You could literally hear his gaming mates through the headset, and yet here you were keeping your boyfriends cock warm.

With a little whine you began to grind ever so softly, hips swaying back and forth. The motion had Kenma’s lashes fluttering a bit, but he kept his composure, fingers pressing away at buttons and voice soft into the mic. You on the other hand let out a string of little whines, your fingers gripping tightly at Kenma’s sweatpants as your hips twitched.

“K-Kenma...~” You breathed, barley over a whisper. Kenma couldn’t keep the grin off his lips as he brushed his nose along the column of your throat, whispered against your skin. “Keep going kitty.” And that you did, beginning the soft bouncing and having your walls clench around his length perfectly.

“You good Kenma?” The faux blonde didn’t realize his groan was out loud. He played it off as clearing his throat, his voice still very much monotone. “All good.” He repeated, before suddenly bucking his hips up.

You gasped out loud, your eyes widening some as his thrust met your own, swallowing his cock to hit right on your sweet spot. You urged for that pleasure again, grinding your rear into his hips to feel more friction. “M-more, more sir— “

There it was. The title. Kenma smirked. “My girls here, I’ve been telling her to keep it down. Anyone got the left side?” You weren’t sure how Kenma could sound so calm, but as he slammed his hips up again, your mouth opened for a moan.

Only for Kenma to press your panties between your lips. Blush bloomed on your cheeks as you muffled a whimper into the fabric, his fingers pressing it firmly onto your tongue before his thumb ran over your bottom lip. “You’re so loud kitty.” He mumbled into your ear, his hips continuing to jump into your clenching pussy. “I wanna keep your pretty noises all to myself so be a good girl and keep your panties in there.” You nodded subtly, whining as his fingers slowly slide away from your face to grip the controller properly once more.

“M-mph~” Despite your rather stuffed mouth you still begged so pretty, hips begging for more as Kenma rolled into you again. Kenma had to bite his lip to hold in a groan, the feeling of your walls tightening up around him making his fingers twitch over the controller. “Kenma.” The faux blonde heard his name called out again and he smirked a bit, attending to his teammates needs all the while grinding his hips forward into your clenching core.

You had leaned your head into his shoulder at this point, fingers desperately clutching at his thighs as you met his grinds. Your eyes barely stayed opened as they fluttered, a gloss coming over them as the pleasure seemed to overwhelm you. As a bit of drool dribbled from the cotton that threaten to spill from your lips Kenma’s fingers were quick to easily press it back in, a little tsk leaving his lips. “Such a messy girl, bet the boys can hear these desperate little noises even with the panties.”

That had your cheeks darkening a bit, a whimper slipping past your lips so pretty Kenma let out a audible groan this time, right into the mic for all the players in the game to hear.

“Fuck it.” He finally stated, slapping down on the pause button so fast before the controller along with his headset where tossed to the side, not even bothering to mute himself and deep down hoping the boys would hear your beautiful cries. He was quick to take hold of your hips, having your back pressing into the couch cushions while he centred himself between your trembling thighs. He was embedded within you again with one quick thrust, letting out a moan as he watched tears finally spill from your eyes, felt your back arch to just the right spot that had his cock brushing your sweet spot.

“That’s my pretty kitty.” He cooed, pupils blowing out wide as he gripped your hips, continued to pump into your walls. You could barely keep your eyes open, fingers reaching up to grip onto Kenma’s shoulders like your life depended on it. One of his palms smoothed down from your hip to your thigh, squeezing along the flesh as he rolled his hips. “This is what you wanted huh? Wanted attention like this right (Y/N)?”

You attempted to nod, attempted to moan but the panties kept your babbles at you’re your nails pressing into the fabric of his shirt while your hips continued to meet his. Kenma’s impatience got the better of him as he finally pulled the dampened fabric from between your lips, tossing it aside and bringing his own lips close to yours instead.

“Ask me to cum baby. I know you wanna.” His words were nothing more than mumbles as he spoke against your swollen lips, his eyes glued to yours as fresh tears of pleasure swelled to the surface. You moaned out loud now, core tightening up around his cock as your orgasm reached closer and closer.

“N-needa cum Kozume, Needa cum sir please...~ please can I cum?” He loved the way you sounded so desperate, loved the way his game mates definitely stayed on call so they could hear the two of you. Biting onto his lower lip his fingers squeezed a bit tighter on your skin as his hips jutted faster, his own release swimming up fast at the way your walls squeezed him.

“Yea baby, cum on my cock, lemme hear you.” He egged you on, a bit of flush rising on his cheeks at sound of your rising cries, the way your back arched into his thrusting. Your eyes widened suddenly as the knot in your stomach finally snapped, a wave of white clouding your vision as pleasure vibrated through your form. Your fingers clutched desperately to his shoulders as you whined out.

“That’s it.” Kenma cooed, his thrusts picking up and having you whimpering as the aftershock of your orgasm made you hypersensitive. He was quick to follow, shooting strings within you with a pleasured groan. Finally his hips shallowed out, his breath coming out a bit ragged as he looked down at the mess between their thighs, the way your skin twitched and shimmered with a mixture of their arousal.

“Good job kitty... you did so good.” Kenma’s voice had lost a bit of its edge as he slowed, giving you a gentle smile when you fluttered your eyes back open, eased your fingers away from him to flop them on either side of your head. Kenma leaned into you, keeping his now soft length within your walls as he placed a gentle smooch under your eye.

“Was that enough attention?” He asked, earning a tired laugh from you as you carded your fingers through Kenma dampened locks. The two of you stayed tangled in each other embrace as you slowly came down from the high. “Mhm. I think so.”

“The boys definitely heard you.” There was his bluntness, a smirk coming to his face at the way he felt you tense up a bit beneath him. “I didn’t mute it so they could hear how cute you sound when you cry out for my coc— “

“Kozume!!” You squealed, face flushing as you pouted, gave his hair a playful little tug. He could only keep on grinning, lips pressing to your cheek bone.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it~”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kenma #kenma kozume #kenma smut #kenma x y/n #kenma x reader #kenma x fem!reader #dom!kenma #gamerkenma #kenma x reader smut

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allwaswell16 · 3 years

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This is a fic rec of One Direction fic writers who both appreciate positive, long comments and enjoy replying back to these comments! This was made in honor of an enthusiastic friend who had a few bad experiences commenting in our fandom and receiving less than kind replies. Instead of just fuming about it, I decided to do something about it. I knew that most writers would absolutely love to receive comments like the ones she leaves, so I made a post asking for writers who fit this to recommend their fics to us. And wow did you all come through for us!

Below the cut are 54 writers, each with one of their fics to recommend to us! But please be sure to check out all their other fics as well! I’ll put the fics in order of wordcount and I’ll list pairing, rating, and wordcount along with the summaries.

(Please note that there are really lovely writers out there who also very much appreciate each and every one of their comments, but are too overwhelmed or anxious to reply. I am not at all saying that writers who don’t reply are unappreciative!)

Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse / writing_practice [Louis/Harry, E, 162k]

“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”

-----

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Hold You Now by @solvetheminourdreams [Louis/Harry, M, 131k]

The string within Harry's own sweatpants is now dangling outside of his pocket, stretched so far out that the seams of his pants have tightened. His eyes remain hyper focused on Louis, how oblivious he is—scrolling through his phone without a care in the world, while Harry feels his tilt on its axis.

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

forever is in your eyes by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same [Louis/Harry, M, 125k]

Harry looks fragile in the moonlight, and Louis stands there, pondering, not even sure what it is that he’s thinking of. It’s all just noise in his head, a mix of melancholy and desire, of longing for something that he doesn’t even have a name for.

He wants-

He wants love. He wants to be held and cherished and have a home. Not just a place to lay his head down at night. He wants to be loved the way that Louis had loved creating Harry. He wants his perfect man, but he wants him to be real. He wants Harry to be real-

His lips press against marble, against something cold and unforgiving, and it’s not until his hand comes up to rest against a sculpted neck that his eyes fly open and he stumbles backwards, nearly falling off the stepladder that he’d stood on.

“Jesus Christ.” He whispers, shaking his head and resisting the urge to brush the back of his hand against his lips, erase evidence that isn’t even visible to the naked eye. Harry stands there, as though nothing’s changed, and of course he does, because he’s a statue.

A statue that Louis has just kissed.

don’t want to fight you by @lt2soon / starryharry [Louis/Harry, M, 124k]

Louis hates that it’s familiar. He hates that sparring Harry is familiar because they train together. He hates that he even has to spar Harry at all, because Harry is good.

Louis wonders what his life would be like if him and Harry didn’t hate each other. He can’t picture it, really. The incessant bickering that often turns into real arguing, the nasty looks, the eye rolls, the middle fingers. It all feels very necessary at this point.

Or, the one where two fighters can also be lovers because routines are never permanent.

Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo [Louis/Harry, E, 114k]

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

promise your whispers are mine by @lightwoodsmagic / lightswoodmagic [Louis/Harry, E, 94k]

"Where did I say it’s been easy for you, or,” he paused, staring at Harry’s lowered head and willing him to look up, “where have you ever gotten the idea that it’s been easy for me either?” When a few beats had passed and Louis was sure the conversation was done, Harry looked up, straight into Louis’ eyes like he was trying to physically pin him in place. “Our situations are completely different and you know it, please stop trying to - .” “Then let me help you fix it, Harry,” Louis interrupted, desperate to reach out and cover his hand with one of his own. “Let me help, please.”

Harry’s the head chef at Azoff’s Catering, and he loves his job; the opportunity has always been more than he could dream of and he’s proud of the food he creates. Until he meets Louis, an event coordinator rising through the ranks with his own company, and who reminds him of the dreams he once had for his own career. While their easy friendship initially thrives in an industry known for chaos and betrayal, they soon discover they both have their secrets, and maybe it’s too late for either of them to try to find happiness outside of their work. Especially when they realise that their happiness might rely on each other.

Playin’ It Safe and Breakin’ The Rules by @local-troubled-writer / local_troubled _writer [Louis/Harry, M, 90k]

In his life, Louis Tomlinson set out to do three things: find a way to make art that he loves, make his mum proud, and have as much fun as he could reasonably fit into one lifetime.

“Hello?” Harry’s deep voice calls.

“Hi,” Louis pops his head out of his doorway, motioning Harry back. “Louis,” he holds his hand out for Harry to shake and a small grin takes over the popstar’s face. He’s taller than he seems in photographs, but his smile is just the same as the ones that used to wallpaper his sisters’ walls.

“Harry.” He seems to have just gotten off stage, still sweating in a pair of skin-tight black jeans but a soft-looking blue vest. A beige headscarf holds his long curls off his face and he has all the easy confidence of a world-famous pop sensation, but still slouches in a way that isn't unfamiliar to Louis’ own posture.

“Yeah, I know who you are, popstar.” Louis teases, pulling his hand away and jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. “Shall we?”

or the One Where Maybe this Fake Relationship Gets a Little Too Real.

Consequences by @allwaswell16 [Louis/Harry, E, 78k]

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

The Sound The Leaves Make In The Heat Of The August Sun by @sleepwalk-living / anderscones [Louis/Harry, T, 76k]

Louis is an elf who lives in the Kingdom’s forest, as far away from the pompous Castle Court as he can get while staying within city limits. He’s a thief out of necessity and is happy enough to steal from the rich when they’re not looking. He notices something mysteriously dangerous happening in his forest one morning and begs for an investigation from the Court, who of course tells him he’s seeing things.

Intro a shamed knight, a runaway prince, a blacksmith, and a mage with fae blood who figure something is better than nothing. The King is all too happy to make criminals out of them and run them thinner than they already are just to prove a point to his son. With the combined powers of Captain Pla- One Direction, they figure it out.

adjudication by @bottomlinsons [Louis/Harry, T, 75k]

Harry's been engaged to Princess Charlotte of Ryde for as long as he can remember. He's come to know her, to love her, through the letters she's sent him over the past three years.

But when the wedding finally arrives, Harry quickly learns that nothing is as it seems. With his crown and country at stake, Harry must decide who to trust in this strange new land. And the sly Crown Prince of Ryde doesn't seem inclined to make things easy.

The Ground Below is Above My Feet by @zanniscaramouche / zanni_scaramouche [Louis/Harry, E, 63k]

“-ouis, are you awake?”

“M’ff,” Louis manages. Slowly he remembers where he is. Who he is. His nerve endings take stock of his body, the soft sheets twisted around his legs and the warm rush of breath on his face. Harry.

“You were sleeping like the dead,” Harry muses, calloused fingers delicately brushing through Louis’ fringe. “Could barely tell if you were breathing.”

Louis' heart stutters, his throat working hard to swallow the lump of ugly truth. Blinks until Harry’s bright eyes come into focus across the pillow.

He holds back the obvious joke.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers [Harry/Louis, E, 58k]

After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of.

Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening.

But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

Live a Thousand Lifetimes by @laynefaire / Layne Faire [Zayn/Liam, E, 57k]

It’s 2025.

After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour.

With the whirlwind about to begin again, Liam re-evaluates the last ten years - the fame, the money, the people who changed his life forever - and the person who walked away.

just a flicker in the dark by @falsegoodnight [Harry/Louis, E, 57k]

Harry Styles is his case partner. High and mighty, annoyingly smug Harry Styles who’s known him for years and has fucking seen him naked for fuck’s sake.

He glances at Venus who’s blinking up at him with curious eyes, no doubt sensing the agitation sparking in his magic.

“This is not happening,” Louis says loudly. “This is not fucking happening. I am going to kill Liam, oh my god.” He doesn’t even know if Liam is responsible for this but it feels like something he’d do to drive Louis absolutely insane - exes don’t just show up to your assigned haunted house out of nowhere. “Fucking fuck!”

He nearly jumps when Harry knocks again, his muffled voice carrying through the wood. “I can hear you, you know,” he drawls, sounding frustratingly amused.

Louis exhales, resisting the urge to scream.

Or, Louis is a struggling witch desperate to prove himself after yet another magic disaster and finds a calling in the haunted house of client Niall Horan. Things get more complicated when he’s assigned a case partner: acclaimed medium and ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles.

I'm On the Hunt Now (I'm After You) by @afangirlfantasy [Louis/Harry, M, 56k]

Omegas haven’t been able to shift into their wolves for two hundred years. That is, until Louis Tomlinson changes everything.

Or...an AU where Alpha Harry and Omega Louis have a lot more than falling in love to deal with after The Mating Ceremony.

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright [Louis/Harry, T, 50k]

Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.

It feels different.

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

Baby, Won’t You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis / PeachBootyLou [Louis/Harry, E, 50k]

Louis tiptoed to the door and opened it, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, almost enough to make him strip back down and give it another go. But that wasn’t who Louis was. So he sighed and stepped outside, leaving back to his flat. And for the first time in years, he felt alive.

Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

dirty laundry looks good on you by @tomlinvelvetfics / tomlinvelvet [Louis/Harry, E, 50k]

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love.

Passing By by @larryyouknow / Larry_you_know [Louis/Harry, E, 48k]

Sometimes, people are in each other's lives just for the briefest of moments. They meet and then go their separate ways because being vulnerable is scary and it might be easier to not let anybody else in. But some people aren’t meant to be just passing by. Maybe when they open their eyes, they can learn things about themselves they haven’t known before. If they let their hearts speak they will find a way to be together.

Or the one where Harry doesn't even know he's into guys until he meets Louis on a boat trip. There's something more to their friendship but it ain't gonna be smooth sailing.

i kiss you (across hundreds of separating years) by @milkcurls / loveroflou [Louis/Harry, M, 44k]

He reminds Louis of the day he met him, the first day of Harry’s first year and Louis’ second, when he stood on wobbly legs beside Zayn, his cheeks flushed and hair parted to the side and tucked neatly behind his ear. He’s all dainty and soft – he’s pretty, Louis can admit that.

He’s also a rich frat boy who fucks every omega that will throw themselves at him – and they all do – so instead of pretending to be a precious little doll Louis thinks he should spend more time learning how to be a decent human being.

or, the stars and two amused boys are playing cupid, and there are one too many coded love letters and a duck plushie that smells like home

don’t want no other shade of blue by @louisisworthit / padfootyoudog [Louis/Harry, E, 43k]

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis.

“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”

“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

A Thousand More by @travelingwinchester / Ot5aresoulmates [Louis/Harry, NR, 42k]

Harry wakes up one morning during the separation of April 2015 missing Louis fiercely. He wonders if they had never been on the X-Factor would they have met. Cue the weirdest "dream" he's ever had in which lessons about the course of true love are learned.

fondre ton absence by @scrunchyharry [Louis/Harry, T, 41k]

Harry had never really given much thought to the future. He preferred to let life steer him forward and to follow in the footsteps of Louis, his best friend from as far as his memory went, his lover, his everything. Louis knew better than he did what was good for him.

It changed drastically when Louis was ripped away from him, drafted and sent to the front to fight in a war that Harry had always been sure would never reach him. Too young and too sickly to follow, Harry was left on his own for the first time in his life.

When he thought things could not possibly get worse, Louis went missing at the Somme and was declared dead. While everyone buried and mourned him, Harry never moved on. If Louis were dead, he was sure that he would know it. Their lives were too entwined, he would know if half of his heart had died.

Determined to find Louis, Harry did everything he could in his quest to be reunited with him, except prepare for the state Louis might be in.

He did not prepare for the harsh truth he would have to face: was love possible without memories?

I’ve Been Hoping You’d Be Somewhere Better Than This by @runaway-train-works / runaway _train [Harry/Louis, E, 40k]

“Does she know who it is then, from the New York office?” Louis enquires.

“Yeah, some guy Henry? Henry Styles I think she said?"

“Harry.”

“What?"

“Harry. His name is Harry Styles.” His heart sank. Louis hadn’t met him, they had only shared a couple of emails back and forth, but he knew exactly who he was. And Harry hadn’t just been killing it in the Big Apple, he’s been ripping the place to absolute shreds, nailing some of the most lucrative accounts in the business.

Louis is so fucked.

The one where Louis is up for a promotion, he just has one tiny, little problem standing in his way.

Without you it’s a season I ain’t needing by @whatevertearsyou / perfectdagger [Louis/Harry, M, 38k]

Spring was everything in '17, now I'm just cold Summer fell to fall after all November froze Without you it's a season I ain't needing, I want to go come back home The reds and all the greens don't mean a thing when you're gone Winter means nothing to me now without you.

A long distance relationship au in which Harry is away for a year and Louis is left to pick up the pieces.

take my hand, wreck my plans by @daggerandrose / amomentoflove [Harry/Louis, T, 38k,]

Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him.

“Mr. H,” he whispers.

The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.”

“Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…”

“Dance?”

Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.”

Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.”

Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

I Wish, I Found Love by @slytherinzouis / friendofhayley [Louis/Harry, E, 37k]

A fandom retelling of the Maiden Without Hands.

Solace is a land of religious hypocrisy, demons, and two ostracized families. When prophets from every denomination foretell a boy of unknown origin who might change the tide of the magical world, is any place safe for him?

Harry and Louis grew up together, two pariahs among their peers. Will their love be able to overcome distance, prophecies, and the trials of finding out who you truly become under pressure?

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) by @lululawrence [Harry/Louis, NR, 36k]

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly.

There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.

Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.

Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.

Your Wonder Under Summer Skies by @emilee1421 / Emilee_1421 [Louis/Harry, NR, 34+, wip]

Needing an escape after a particularly hectic year, Louis decides to join Harry in Italy where Harry is working on his next Gucci campaign. While in Italy the two decide to join an old friend at her county home to enjoy a much deserved break from their usually busy lives. Louis and Harry begin to see their friend in a different light and all three are forced to confront the possibility that their friendship may actually be something much deeper.

Work of Magic by @justalarryblog / Bekita [Louis/Harry, NR, 34k]

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

Swear I’ve Known You Since Forever by @louinlavender / abaddxns [Louis/Harry, T, 33k]

Harry then pats around his trouser pockets only to remember that Gemma has his phone in her bag so he can’t even call her, and he’s far too intimidated to ask a stranger if he can borrow theirs. She has his wallet, too, so all he has on his person are the stick of gum in his back pocket and his muddy wellies and a too-long scarf he’s ready to ball up and throw the ground, because he’s only sixteen and he’s just a shopboy in a bakery and he’s about to cry twenty minutes into his first music festival that he had to beg to attend, all because he lost his big sister and her uni friends, who didn’t even want him to come in the first place, and—

“Oi, y’alright, mate?” a bright voice asks, just as his eyes start to water.

Or: Harry attends his first music festival and promptly gets lost. Little does he know that the first friendly face he encounters is bound to change his life forever.

Part one of three of 'And The Sun Came Out'—a series detailing the growth of Harry and Louis' relationship through the years after meeting at Leeds Fest as teenagers.

i’m gonna keep this love, if you let me by @tomlinbuns / pixies [Louis/Harry, E, 26k]

Louis makes Harry pretend to be his boyfriend one night out. The rest is history.

Dear Diary (series) by @alwayslarry-vol28 / kikiberosski16 [Louis/Harry, E, 20k]

Life in quarantine is hard, especially if you're an arrogant son of a bitch and your husband is a stubborn little shit. Harry and Louis argue a lot, so much it affects their daily routines. Harry tries to write his feelings down in a diary, but will this cause more trouble for the couple?

The Golden Prince by @behappyhl [Harry/Louis, E, 19k]

When He arrives in London, he’s speechless.

It’s so different from his little hometown, he can’t help the feeling that it is an unknown planet. Everything is bigger; The streets, the buildings, the stores. The people are always running somewhere, always in a hurry. Harry instantly feels out of place.

Or, Harry lives a perfectly normal life until he gets a life changing job opportunity.

The Boy with the Tin Chest and a Glass Heart by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 [Louis/Harry, M, 17k]

Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with. Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada. Yeah...

Sweet Heart by @bluecolouredlou [Niall/Louis, G, 16k]

Designing clothes, not falling in love.

That was what Niall had in mind when he first met up with Louis. He couldn't be falling in love with the other omega. Not while work as one of the few omegas at the company was getting more stressful. Not when he was supposed to find an alpha and settle down.

just one look (and i fell so hard) by @disgruntledkittenface [Harry/Louis, M, 15k]

Louis takes a small step back, breaking the moment first. “Well, I should–”

“Do you want to come up?”

The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he’d even planned them, and he bites his lip.

“Oh, thank god,” Louis laughs, stepping back into Harry’s space. “I wasn’t, um…”

“Wasn’t ready to let go of you yet,” Harry finishes quietly, glancing up at Louis.

“Yeah,” Louis nods, reaching up and twirling one of Harry’s curls in his fingers. “Yeah, exactly.”

Harry has wanted to go to the Shubert Theatre ever since he moved to New York and lucked into a rent-controlled apartment just outside of the Theatre District. When he finally gets his chance, he hopes the night can meet his sky-high expectations. But the last thing he could have expected was the man seated next to him.

wasting my time when it was always you by @hometothecanyonmoon / sunflower_lwt [Harry/Louis, T, 15k+, wip]

A "Married To The Maverick Millionaire" AU. Louis is the captain of Manchester United, Harry's the heir of the richest charity organization in the country as well as his best friend and they have to fake being married to save both of them from impending doom.

Sounds like love to me by @neondiamond [Louis/Harry, G, 14k]

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

Louis watches as Harry’s face falls with the realization that this is one of those things he won’t be able to experience. For a second, Louis considers saying no, to show Harry they’re truly on the same boat through all of this. But he nods in the end, reaching over for Harry’s hand as the doctor flips a switch. Noise fills the room then, and it takes a few seconds for the sound to become clear enough for Louis to make out the baby’s fast heartbeat.

“It’s really fast,” he voices his thoughts out loud as he uses his thumb to tap against the back of Harry’s hand, replicating the rapid rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat. It takes the younger man a little while to figure out what Louis’ doing, but a huge grin breaks out on his face as soon as he does.

“Is that them?” He signs with the other hand, his own eyes starting to tear up when Louis nods.

OR: Harry is deaf, Louis is pregnant. They figure it out.

The Prince and the Youtuber by @haztobegood [Louis/Harry, E, 12k]

The Annual Rosendal Spring Gala hosted by the Royal Family is the most prestigious fundraiser in the country. When a problem with the honorary foundation arises, Crown Prince Louis Tomlinson must pick a new worthy foundation on short notice. He discovers the perfect replacement in an unlikely place, while watching his favorite YouTuber, Harrysparkles.

One Way Road To Something Better by @femstyles [Harry/Louis, T, 12k]

Four years ago when Louis and Harry moved in together, Louis promised Anne that he’d take care of Harry no matter what. But things don’t always go as planned, and sometimes risky choices have to be made.

Inspired by Don't Let It Break Your Heart

stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) by @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain [Harry/Louis, E, 12k]

Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

my solitude ain’t the same no more by @dryourtearsaway / louisnights [Harry/Louis, M, 10k]

Louis is a traveling homicide detective who goes to the small town of Holmes Chapel to investigate the murder of a young woman.

somewhere only we know by @quelsentiment / wordsnnotes [Zayn/Louis, T, 9k]

Their eyes meet again, and the man suddenly frowns, asking: “Do we know each other?” Oh. So maybe that’s why Zayn is so intrigued with him. He’s always been pretty bad at remembering people’s faces, but there is some kind of vague familiarity to the man’s appearance. “Might help if you told me your name”, he points out. “Right. Sorry, I’m an idiot”, the man chuckles. “I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” And of course. With this voice, Zayn should have known. He’s actually surprised he didn’t recognize it right away. “Lou”, he says, his own voice caught in his throat. “It’s me, Zayn.” Or: Zayn and Louis grew up together, but haven’t seen each other in over a decade. Now they're both in their twenties and meet again on a flight from LA to London, with ten hours in front of them to catch up, and maybe start something new.

I'm Asking You Please, Don't Talk Dirty to Me by @larry-hiatus / larry_hiatus [Harry/Louis, E, 9k]

Prompt #68: Harry’s best friend Louis is a nice, well-mannered omega, at least when it comes to sex talk. He has always been closed off and quiet... until Harry hears how Louis talks during his heat. Now, it's all Harry can think about before his upcoming rut... (Original prompt wording edited for clarity)

making me sweat by honey_beeing [Harry/Louis, E, 9k]

A not-exactly University AU where Harry and Louis meet at an orgy where the both of them don't intend to have sex at.

Twist the Knife by @snowjosh / jishler [Harry/Louis, E, 6k]

Infuriating, but Louis missed it. Louis missed him. His thighs and his chest and breath and warmth and toothbrush next to Louis’. He missed sex with Harry but he missed his presence more: Louis would settle for watching Harry get himself off if it meant he got to see him; hear the voice that was like a soothing balm over all his wounds.

Two weeks after their breakup, Harry wants his toys back.

the stars are coming home by @harrystinyshorts / lsforever [Harry/Louis, G, 5k]

For years Harry has been waiting for their schedules to click just right. Finding a day where he’ll not only be available but also is the only visitor on the premises has been near impossible.

After three years together and nearly a full year of marriage, Harry has finally been permitted to sit in for one of the team’s practices. They get more than they bargained for.

My True Love Gave to Me by @ponymom-stuff / ponymom [Louis/Harry, NR, 5k]

After puzzling over a Christmas gift for Louis, Harry comes to what he believes is the ultimate gift for his true love.

Fistiana by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld [Zayn/Louis, NR, 2k]

They met in the center of the ring and bumped their bare knuckles together.

Strawberries and Cigarettes by @hlhome28 / ThoseFookin_Avacados [Louis/Harry, T, 2k]

strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

"Need help there, love?" "Oh god, yes-" Harry turned around to look at the source of the voice and his heart dropped to his stomach as they caught each other's eyes.

Or on a very lonely valentines day, Harry's car breaks down in an unknown alleyway, where he bumps into a blue-eyed boy who takes him back seven years ago on the same day.

Safe Like Springtime by @beelou / cherrylarry [Louis/Harry, G, 1k]

On the way out of the park, Gabriel gasps suddenly and points across the grassy area. He starts running.

When Harry catches up to Gabe, - that boy runs fast - he's with a man and his dog and Gabe is petting the dog.

"Gabriel James. You know better than to run off like that! Did you ask to pet the dog?" Harry scolds.

"I'm sorry Uncle Harry. I saw a dog and I just wanted to see the fluffy dog! Look how fluffy!" Gabe exclaims.

Harry rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the dog owner. The very attractive dog owner.

Or, the one where Harry takes his nephew to the park and runs into Louis and his Labradoodle Clifford.

best hangover cure by @loulovehome [Louis/Harry, E, 1k]

"A wank will miraculously cure your hangover, honey."

Stay Till The A.M. by @flexible-racoon / goneforbooks [Harry/Louis, G, 1k]

It's 23rd July and Louis reminisces.

#fic rec #1dsource #tracksintheam #trackinghome #larry fan fic #let me know if any of the links are messed up #i've checked and double checked but who knows when its tumblr lol

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fanficdumbchic · 2 years

Text

Strangers In the Night

Series - Severen x Fem OC - Part 1 - 1120 words - SFW

AN: This is the first part of a series where Severen finds a reincarnated mate. This will most likely end up in NSFW territory in later parts.

The Hooker Clan finally spotted a run-down little joint on the side of the road. Miles from town and a minimum police response time of 45 minutes created an ideal hunting spot for the night. Neon signs hung in the dingy windows, casting glows of red and blue into the pitch-black night. The surrounding dirt roads were vacant and the howling of a train in the distance echoed through the flat land. The moon had yet to rise, and the night was young.

They sauntered through the doors, receiving some hard looks from the patrons. The bar tender rose a brow as he set eyes on the strangers, especially Severen. He looked like trouble right off the bat. Severen made his way to the bar, “Evenin’, could I get two shots a yer cheapest shit?” The bar tender nodded, eying him over, already feeling uneasy by the brash swagger this young man possessed.

As he slid him the shots, the bartender informed Severen, “That’ll be 3 square.” Severen downed both, unphased by the harsh liquor, and proposed, “Hows bout free?” The bartender gave an annoyed sigh, “I don’t play those games son, I said 3 bucks.” Severen feigned a surprised gasp, “For that donkey piss?”

The bartender scowled at him, “Out. I don’t take shit in my bar. Get out.”

Severen chuckled, “Aww, I’m only playin’ sir,” and slapped 3 dollars on the bar.

Diamondback remarked to Jesse back at the booth, “Severen loves playing with his food, don’t he?”

Severen was about to start hassling the patrons at the bar, when his attention was taken by a waitress that entered from the back, carrying a tray of beers for a group of hicks at the pool table. His mouth hung open in disbelief as her face was all too familiar.

He had ceased his games with the bar tender as he focused intently on her. So many memories, long buried in the past hundred years came flooding back. Severen remembered his dusty little hometown in the heart of Texas.

***

It was 1866, he had returned from the war, defeated. Yet, he had fought those 4 long years knowing he would come home to her. He could survive all the horrors he had witnessed and suffered if it meant coming home to her.

He gleamed as he picked wildflowers on his way into town, imagining her kind eyes meeting his and her arms embracing him at last. His cheeks ached from his constant smile as he thought of finally seeing her in her wedding dress; their marriage no longer postponed by a war between the North and South.

He practically skipped up the steps of the front porch, knocking on the door and smoothing back his greasy hair. Her father opened the door and immediately grimaced, pausing as he saw the flowers in Severen’s hands. Severen beamed, “Is Lizzie here?” Her father sighed, a painful gasp leaving his lips, asking in nearly a whisper, “You didn’t get our letters?” The smile faded from Severen’s face, “What happened? Is Lizzie alright?” Severen was frantic, attempting to barge past the elderly man into the house. Her father stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder, “Severen… I’m so sorry… we tried to write… the fever came though last year and took her from us…”

Severen immediately felt as though it could not be real. But it was. The young man had suffered so much looking forward to a promise of one remaining hope. He fell to his knees as her father tried to comfort him, though no comfort was ever found, until now.

***

Severen could not take his eyes off the ghost of his past life. The waitress wasn’t merely a reminder or a similarity but an exact spitting image. He could not bring himself to move or do anything but stare, as if one wrong move would make her disappear again.

He watched as she brought out another order to a booth near the front, one empty glass and a beer. As she approached Jesse and Diamondback’s table, he sprung from the bar stool. He could already see Diamondback flicking open her switchblade under the table.

He pushed himself between Diamondback and the waitress, reaching his hand under the table and snatching away her switchblade. She looked up at him with confusion in her eyes, shooting a questioning glance to Jesse which prompted him to puzzle at Severen’s strange gesture. “Anything else I can grab y’all?”, Severen heard the waitress ask from behind him. He glanced back, feeling the blood rush from his face as if he were in the presence of a specter. Her voice was the same, just as sweet.

As she went back to the bar, Jesse got up from the booth and immediately yanked Severen out the front door by the collar of his leather jacket. As they stepped into the balmy night air, Jesse demanded, “What in the fuck was that, friend?”

Severen composed himself, fidgeting with the switchblade in his hand. He sighed, “Not her, Jess.” Jesse rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, “Why not, Sev? She’s just a waitress, what is wrong with you?” Severen didn’t know how to explain it but began after a pause, “Jess, she was from my life before…” Jesse looked at him like he was talking astrology, “What do you—” Severen stopped him, “She’s the spittin image of Liz, Jess.”

Jesse huffed, “You can’t be serious, friend. That reincarnation mumbo jumbo ain’t nothin’ but wishful thinkin’.”

Severen shook his head, “I know my wife’s face, Jess. It’s her. I can’t let ‘er go ‘gain.”

Jesse scoffed, “So you wanna turn her? Like we aren’t having struggles enough with Mae and Caleb. We just got that smoothed out and you wanna risk it again? I’m telling you, this is bullshit and it’s not possible—”

Severen glared at Jesse, “What if it were Diamondback, Jess? Ya tellin’ me you wouldn’t?”

That hit Jesse, while he could deny Severen’s theory, he couldn’t refute his point. Jesse sighed in exasperation, “Fine, not like I’d be able to stop ya anyways, but she goes by the same rules.”

Severen walked back through the doors to see the gaggle of hicks at the back hassling the waitress. They made crude jokes about her figure and one decided to slap her on the backside as she hauled away their empties on her tray. Severen could feel his blood begin to boil as he sauntered towards the pool table. Having seen their treatment of the waitress, Caleb darted from the booth he shared with Mae to Severen’s side. This would be an easy kill, even for him.

#Near Dark #Near Dark 1987 #fanfic #fan fiction #Severen Van Sickle #sfw #Jesse Hooker #diamondback #Severen x fem oc

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undermattsun-archive · 4 years

Text

japan national team x reader | w.c 1.3k

a/n: omg guys here’s the super cute epic collab fic i made w all my frieednsies <33 we all worked superrrr hard on this so pls don’t be mean!!!!!!!!! pls enjoy its xoxox and don’t forget to follow everyone here on this kidnapped by hq collab <33333333333

warnings: not proofread bc who does that xD (guys pls free me from this hell i’m in so much pain i didn’t even look at this i skimmed over it i left it as is, gg)

Read this while lsitening to the best song evar!!!!!!!!!!!1 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_cXhBy78T4&ab_channel=JonasBrothers if you dont listen whil reading ill eat ur family MONCH MONCH MONCH

i go dwnstars, yelling ‘by mum!’ bfor laceing up my wite convrrse hightops (NOT blck becauz u cant sharpi on it) wth 1d lyrics scribbled on it. i rmb to draw a directioner infinite sign on mywrist. perfect, i think to mysdlf.

I never thot i would get to go to the olympics all the way on the other side of the planet in toky o japan! It was a dream come true for a simple, average, run of the mill girrl like me, who is 5’7 with naturally wavy hair, that’s not curly or strait and eyes as blue as the dark blue part of the ocean.

I been dreaming of the olypoics since fetus. I just knew I had to be here, but I never thought it would actually happen. The only thing that would make it better is if I had a smezxy smexy boyfrwend! (A/n: Tee-hee! Maybe even two! (Or five! <333) haha! Aren’t I so quirky? <3)

I’m Wearing A Mint Green Crop Top That Ties In The Front And Some Denim Shorts With Black Converse. I Don’t Need Makeup Because My Skin Is Naturally Smooth And Clear And My Lips Are Already Red #wokeuplikethis And I Listened Only To MCR And P!ATD On The Plane Ride. I Bet You Dont Know Who They Are, THey’re My Favorite Banxds And Are Super GOod And Like Underground Bands. (A/n: Okay But If You Don’t LIke Welcome TO THe BLack Parade GTFO Of My FIc I Don’t Need YOu Here xoxo)

ok so like,, im on my way to the olympics but then like, i get kidnapped !!! the car i was in was like super expensive and i cant see anything with the blindfold on. i hear voices of men all around me though, for like, a whole 30 minutes before they bring me somewhere and tie me up? "Take Her BLindfold off," one of them say, i hear. and im so nervous. but it's like a dream when they tug my blindfold off and im met with the prettiest emerald orbs ever looking back at me.

my stomach knotted in fear (more like an angry swarm of butterflies fluttering around ) i feel like screaming or squealing or both bc those eyes belong to someone so gorgeous . even more gorgeous than harry styles. hes like a god. i woukd so worship his foot. or something. (squee omg i can’t believe this is happening. i bet you wish that it was you huh?)

bro who tf has emerald orbs green eyes im blanking rn

^ yo i was gonna ask i cannot for the life of me remember who

his #afff14 sppheres peered into my soul i really just felt seen. i took a deep breath before fainting he was just so pretty. *one hours later* i woke upa nd saw the pretty viridescent peepers staring into mine. like he was literally two inches away from my face omg i could feel his minty breath on my lips it smelled so good.

“My name is atsumu miya,” he said gruffly, the gruffness in his voice so gravely. “And me and me mates here think yer the most gorgeous girl weve ever seen. I blink up at him, orbs gleaming amd full of tears.

“What do u mean, i’m just a normal quirky girl?” I say shakely, biting my lip. I bit my lip as the piss blond man spoke.

“You don’t know ur beautiful.” YOUR INSECURE DONT KNOW WHAT FOR YOUR TURNING HEADS WHEN YOU WAlk THROUGH THE DO OO OOOOOR

“U may be a normal quirky girl but ur OUR nroaml quirky girl now” his friend said with a deep voice. It was so deep that i almost thot it was like the ocean, he had curly balck hair and his eye were sooo mysterious (a/n i loooove sakusa i can’t believe him and his friends kindapped me omgggg XD)

“Stop it go away” osamu said (hee hee i can never remmber tell which twin is which LOL i think its osamuuu) “no u have to share” sakusa responded angrily. I starred at them and didn’t know what theyd do next!

I looked over to he side ans see sakura pulling out hand sanitizer passing it around to his teamates. The green orbed boys huff as they put it on. i wished i could see his whole face hes so sedy, look over here pretty girl, i gasp pulled from my thoughts by their captain kita walking into the room with his hands on his hips and was theat aran? “You look even better in peroiusn” aran said to me, walking over to me “how do you know who i am?” i ask.

“listen bbygurl...” he yealls, pulling out a chair to sit acros from me. “you dont get to ask the questions, we are your new masters, and you shall do as we say.” i gulp nervously, my stomach feeling like a sharkndao is happening inside. “we hope u will be worth every penny we payed foru.”

“M-m-m-masters?” my head felt like it was spinning in a teacup from disney land as i thought about what he just said to me. what did this mean? was i gooing to miss the olympics?? I wanted ot hate him with his super smug look on his face but i cant deny that he looks kind of hot and i’m into guys who look just like him,, the other guys r also relly attractive it makes my heart race. I look around trying to find answers when i make eye contact w a really really reall y tall guy who i thinks name is gao only to see another really really relly tall guy next to him,, hyakuzawa?

“what are yo going to do to me then?” ((*lenny face))

you ask, stomach bubbling. maybe i shoudnt have ateen that stale pizza earlier and washed it down with watermelon-lemon minute maid because now i felt like it was gonna come up. ((ew gross um tw vomit mention hehe)

“Dont worry were going to grab seme din din soon lil one,” one of them says. His name espapes me. Hes a ginger. They wont answer me for some reason and i suddenly miss my freedom when i would go to school (i go to an expesive private school for rich kids ahahah).

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH ME??” i yell again batting my fists against the ginger but he doesnt even blink. Ive decided hes hot but in a short king kinda way. His hair reminded me of of like cheeto coloured fine thread woven into waves.,,, like the ocean xD (ans...this has an ocean theme)

sudenly there was another voice it was yalling “BOKE HINATA BOKER” i looked with my stricking dark blue orbs and there wasd inother pair of stricking dark blueor bs like the ocean and blck hair. his voicde was veryy deelp an sexxcy (a/n lololol i luv u gakeyama kun *w*)

theres suddenly a loud voice in ur ear screaming directly into ur eardrum " BAKA KAGYEAMA BAKA" (wtf our they communicating ???? ? ) i cringe at the yellign and another pair of strong arms bulls me away . i land against a hard, solid chest, i can feel the six pack thru his track Suit.

and then my alarm clock playin what makes u beatyful goes off n i woke up.

amen.

i rub my eyes wakng up, starrn into the mirror at my super borng brwn ugly eyes and brsh my equaly borng brwn hair. i lok up at m wall and see harey stylz and niallr starinf back at me on t walls. i sigh dreamily. they wud twll me my brwn uairs beatufil.

#i'm gonna kermit #my eyes hurt #my brain is dying #where am i #kidnapped by hq #tw wattpad

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myblueeyedbuggers · 3 years

Text

My Boys

Chapter 12

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Slight bit of swearing

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Eyup My loves! Soo How’s your week been? Good I hope, so a bit of news for you all, there’s only two/three more chapters left till this book is finished and then we’ll be moving onto (Drum roll) The First Avenger! Woooo! I hope you’re all as excited as I am. Anyways without anymore rambling, I give you chapter 12, enjoy!

So I can safely say that the rest of the week passed pretty quickly, with only a few ‘minor’ incidents, one of em being a massive food fight caused by yours truly and Steve getting himself stuck in the basement for 2 hours after seeing, and I quote ‘a possessed girl dressed as undead batman’.

I still haven’t told him that was me….oops

Apart from that it was pretty normal, cut to today where I’ve been blessed with the task of lookin’ after my best girl for Buck’s parents anniversary whilst they go into the city to celebrate, I mean it’s the least I could do for em. Plus, the last time the lads were trusted with lookin’ after Becca, Buck’s parents came home to the entire house covered in flour with Becca laughin’ at em cause they managed to lock themselves in a cupboard. We had to call the fire department to get em outta there.

Anyways, we kicked the boys outta the house so Becca and I could have a girls day in, now don’t get me wrong I absolutely adore this girl and I would practically do anything for her.

“Y/n can we play princesses please?! Mama got some dresses from our cousin we can wear!”

I can literally feel my soul burning right now. I honestly tried to say no, there’s nothing more I hate more that being forced into them things but one look into her bright little eyes made all my resistance die away and so I uttered the words that sealed my doom. “Of course, Becs only if we can have a tea party in em”. So here we are, me in a navy style party dress, lace covered my arms and the hem of the sweetheart neckline resting just on my collarbone, the knee length satin skirt covered my legs.

Honestly, I wasn’t as bad I thought it were gonna be, I even let my hair outta the classic ponytail it’s always in so Becca could style it a tiny bit, to her credit she did a decent job. My h/c locks fell in small waves across my back, with the longer strands near my face tucked behind my ears and Becs even convinced me to pop on some of her mama’s makeup. Now I ain’t a fool, I know makeup’s pretty expensive and only let her pop on a shimmery light gold eyeshadow and some tinted lip balm, much to her disappointment I confiscated the mascara, I refused to let that death stick near my eyeballs.

Becca looked absolutely adorable, we’d managed to find her dance dress from last year and it suited her down to the ground. Baby pink lace covered her arms up to her wrist, the middle part had little gems dotted here and there with a pink satin ribbon separating the skirt from the top, from the looks of it the skirt was made outta some layered netting that poofed outwards when she span around. Don’t ask me how but I managed to wrap some ribbons in her braids and added a lil tiara on the top of her head and if you’d asked me, she looked like a real-life princess to me.

“So, your highness, what would one prefer to do? Would one like to have tea in the parlour or waltz in the ballroom?” my attempt at the British accent was apparently appalling, judging by the level of giggles coming outs Becca’s mouth. Eventually she calmed down enough to give me an answer “I think a waltz would be most fun lady y/n” she said in an equally bad accent. Slowly a smile spread across my face as I moved over to the record payer, I didn’t even pay attention to which one I put on before I turned back to Becca and offered her my hand, lowering myself into a bow that looked like a squid tryin’ to tap dance. Very elegant I know.

You’d think after the past few weeks I’d been with the Barnes family, I’da got used to being tackled by the siblings, but alas I am surprised every-time, hence why I’m on the floor with a hyperactive 4 year old sat on top of me. Becca’s giggles filled the entire room, she quickly got off me and started jumping around to the sound of the jumpin’ jive and leaving me to slowly die on the floor, for all of 5 seconds before she yanked my arm outta my socket to get me dancing with her. I swear this girl isn’t even human, one second she’s sweet and delicate the next she’s bulldozing people to the ground and pullin’ em to the next life, I mean she’s 4 she shouldn’t be that strong!

Thank the lord she’s adorable. Quickly the music took over my mind, my feet moving along to the music, Becca was doin’ some twirls around me with the biggest smile on her face, I don’t know what made me do it but I grabbed her gently by the waist and spun us around in time to the music, her little arms reached into the air as we both laughed our heads off. Of course, me being me, I lost my balance and my butt suddenly met the sofa, with Becca landing next to me with a small yelp, it was quiet for all of 2 seconds before we burst out laughin’. Think it took us about 3 minutes before we calmed down, a comfortable silence fell between us, the music slowly faded to a stop as the record reached its end, and we stayed like this for a while before Becca broke the silence.

“Y/n, can you sing like mama? She don’t do it often cause it reminds her of my nana….” My eyes drifted over to Becs, her lil eyes dulled a little when she said it and now they were filled with a small glimmer of hope, and I really didn’t wanna be the reason for that light goin’ out. If I were being completely honest singin’ wasn’t something I ever wanted to do again, during my time with the Црни лабуд, singing was the only thing that made me feel like….well me I guess. It was the only sliver of light in so many years of darkness and once I was free from them I made myself a silent vow that I’d never do it again, that I was a new person. But one look in her little eyes was enough to make me break it. “I ain’t too bad, only know a couple of songs on the piano but I can try if you wanna”

Apparently Becca didn’t need to be told twice, in a flash of pink she was off to the other room, bellowing for me to follow her, I mean it ain’t like I gotta choice in the matter is it ? the sound of something hitting the floor in the room opposite me made me move even quicker (if that were even possible). Becca was stood in front of a oldish looking piano, a small bench was tuned over in front of her, and a white sheet was discarded on the floor next to her as she bounced up and down excitedly, I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I turned the bench over on it’s feet. Not even 2 seconds later Becca clambered up on it and looked at me with a bright smile, I swear she gets cuter every second like how does this happen ? I try it and I end up put away in a mental asylum.

“You got any requests princess ?” my legs carried me across the room and towards the seat, cracking my knuckles together and stretching out my fingers before turning to look at the younger lass, a look of concentration covered her face in response and it took her a few seconds to answer. “Dream a little dream of me ? think that’s what mama calls it” I swear I tried to stop the soft smile, but I really couldn’t help it this time. “sure sweetheart” and with that I hit the opening notes, the feeling of the keys under my fingertips were so familiar it was like no time had passed since I last played, I kept my voice soft and quiet as I sang. I think I was halfway through my second verse when I felt Becca cuddle into my side, she ducked her head under my arm and put her head in my lap, a soft yawn left her mouth as her eyes started to close to the sound of the music. It was at the end of the song that I looked at her again, soft snores escaped her mouth and her hand was grasping gently at the top of my skirt, I felt my heart melt even more that I thought possible, completely unaware of the small audience I’d gathered until a small cough came from behind me.

Aw shit…..

Bucky’s POV

If you’d told me a year ago, that after spending a couple of hours at Coney island with my best mate I’d come home to what must be an angels voice singing my sister to sleep. I’da never of believed ya, think you coulda imagined our confusion when me and Steve heard piano coming from the dining room. Steve shot me a look of pure bewilderment, and I couldn’t blame the guy to be honest, “thought you’d said your mama gave up piano couple a years ago”. I’m guessing my face mirrored his, cause I ain’t the slightest clue either, mama stopped playin’ years ago so who the heck could it be? “yeah she did bud, swore she’d never set her hands on it again…..”. I’m completely and utterly baffled at this point, where’s Y/n when ya need her ? she’d figure this out.

We both took a step towards the closed door, eager to know what the hell was going on when something stopped me, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard in my life sang along with the melody, I coulda sworn it sounded like the lullaby mama sang to us when we were kids. I guess I spent too long listening cause Stevie boy pushed past me and walked in, the sounds were so much clearer and more vibrant it felt like I’d died and gone to heaven right then and there. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I realised just who was creating this beautiful sound, there she was, sat in front of the piano as her fingers danced gracefully across the keys. Her voice, oh god her voice sounded like that of an angel, the weak afternoon sun shone over her hair and made her look even more angelic than humanly possible. I barely even noticed Becca asleep in her lap before Y/n finished her song and the ever-living pain in my ass decided to reveal that we were there. I mean he coulda chosen any other way of revealing our presence but no he had to let out the tiniest little cough, coulda got her back for the eyebrow incident….

Y/n literally went stiff as a board before she turned to look at us, her cheeks were red as a rose and a sheepish smile covered her face, it was only a couple of seconds after that both Steve and I noticed what she was wearing, he burst out laughin at her but me, I for once in my life couldn’t say a damn thing. She looked absolutely breath taking, her hair fell down in soft waves and framed her face, the shade of blue in her dress brought out the small flecks of green in her e/c eyes and brought out her hourglass figure. Her lips were drawn into a natural pout and it was that second it dawned on me she asked me somethin’….shit.

“whaaaa…….” Nice one Bucky.

Steve, the lil punk, could barely stop himself laughin’, at some point he’d moved to take Becca off Y/n and stood behind y/n with his fist in his mouth to smother his laughter. My best friend ladies and gentlemen. If looks could kill he’d be 10 feet under right now.

“Buck ? I was askin’ if you were okay ?” Y/n’s face showed a tiny bit of confusion and much to my horror amusement, “YeAh I’m okay….” And just at the moment puberty strikes in the form of a voice crack, as if this weren’t embarrassing enough. At this point Steve was barely keeping it together, he had actual tears coming outta his eyes and went bright red in the face tryin’ to stop himsen laughing, in front of me y/n furrowed her eyebrows and did look genuinely concerned for my mental state. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just looked at me before she lifted her hand to my forehead and held it here for a minute, thank god Steve chose to leave the room before this or I’da never heard the end of it.

“You sure you’re okay, feelin’ a bit warm and ya actin weirder than usual Buck” okay quick say something before this gets even more embarrassing, first thing that pops into ya head in 3,2,1…

“Yeah I’m sure, think I ate somethin’ funky down at the pier, makin’ me real gassy”……why am I like this? Normally I can charm any girl of their feet but with y/n, I’ma bumbling mess. She didn’t say a damn word, she just raised her eyebrows whilst a small smirk covered her face, before she turned and left me to have a very small breakdown underneath the dining table.

Meaning I let out a noise that sounded like a bear stubbing it’s toe in the middle of winter.

I thought my luck couldn’t get any worse, but nooo old lady luck decided today I needed a second helping, cause the second I did that Y/n walked back into the room. Brilliant. I was too busy stumbling over my words to processes what she was doin’, before I knew it she’d walked back to me and stood on her tip toes….then planted a small kiss on my cheek.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered Barnes”

And just like that, she left me with my jaw on the ground and heart beatin’ outta my chest, cause I’m starting to think that she was right. I’m sure as hell coming down with something, and I’m pretty sure it ain’t a regular ol’ bug…..

SOOO, if you got this far hope you enjoyed it, as always any feed back or constructive criticism is welcome, thank so much for reading and hope you have a great day/night/week.

lots of love

Rose xxx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

1. Siren Indruck NSFW, Duck is hauling supplies for the small town of Kepler on a tiny boat. Due to dangerous storms, Duck takes a longer but safer and less traversed route. He doesn’t know he’ll be passing through a Siren’s territory. A siren who is looking for a strong and sturdy mate

Here you go!

Duck never tells anyone what he finds on the beach that day.

He’s fourteen, looking for useful flotsam and jetsam tossed onto the sand by an ongoing storm. What he finds is an empty boat and a merman, silvery tail impaled with a spear in a piece of driftwood. Each time he tries to free himself, he winces and is unable to pull the weapon from his body. When he sees Duck, his red eyes widen and he bares sharp teeth in a hiss.

“It’s okay” the boy kneels in the bloody sand, “I ain’t gonna hurt you. Or, uh, this’ll hurt for a sec, but it’ll be better than tryin to ease it out bit by bit.” He grabs the end of the fishing spear and pulls. The merman shrieks, quickly clamping his hands across his mouth as Duck pulls his handkerchief from his pocket to bandage the wound.

“There, you should be able to-”

The creature is gone with a whip of his tail, sliding down the sand and into the waves. As Duck stands, a strange song floats from the foam for the briefest instant. A seasoned sailor can tell a siren from a normal mer on sight; Duck has never been to sea. It’s weeks later that he wonders what events resulted in the wounded siren and an empty boat.

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

Any other day, Duck would put off this run until the black clouds no longer hung over the horizon. But the supply run last week didn’t come, so the isolated, coastal town of Kepler is running low on, among other things, the medicine needed to treat an illness spreading from house to house. He could put this off until tomorrow, but he won’t sleep well tonight if he does.

The boat loaded, he starts out to sea under unfriendly skies. Today is a day to follow the coastline and then circle Greenbriar Island to reach Kepler, rather than trying for a straight shot. It’ll double his travel time, but it’s far safer in a storm and no one but a few locals know how to navigate it. Duck takes this route once or twice most years. This summer alone he’s had to take it six times, with today making a seventh. The abnormal number of storms weighs on the minds of coastal residents. Duck tries not to obsess over it, given that it’s solidly out of his control and there’s no use fussing over wind and rain; there’s only getting through them.

Halfway through his journey, a rogue swell catches the underside of the boat and drags it along a rock, springing a leak in the hull. He ties off on a thin spire of stone, clambering onto a rock to try and repair the damage. It’s not a big leak, but it’ll be trouble if he lets it go.

As he’s laying awkwardly with water lapping up his legs, a human head rises from the water a few feet from him. Silver hair, red eyes and, when it smiles, very sharp teeth. Harmless mermaids have teeth much like his own, which means he’s alone in the ocean with a fucking siren.

Duck’s learned many things since that day on the beach; how a song can paralyze a man better than poison, how the bite marks on the skin of certain bodies that wash ashore are called siren kisses

The siren begins swimming closer. Duck sighs, “If you’re gonna drown and eat me, can you do it on the way back?”

Red eyes blink, confused, but the siren stays where he is.

“If I don’t make it to Kepler, lotta folks’ll get sick, some will even die. And I don’t think you got much use for medicine and canned food.”

The siren shakes his head.

“Glad you understand.” Duck finishes his repairs under watchful eyes. At one point, the siren swims all the way to the rock Duck is perched on, resting his chin on his hands, as if enjoying the view.

Duck scrambles back into the boat the moment he’s done, but no cold fingers try for his ankles and no splash announces something lunging upwards after him. A cautious glance as he starts the engine finds the siren sitting on the rock, silver-blue tail still half in the water. When he notices Duck looking, he waves.

The rest of the journey goes as planned, the relief on folks faces when Duck docks worth the peril. When he reaches the siren’s territory on his return, no song tempts him. A lithe shape keeps pace with the boat, fin breaking the surface now and then. When he hits open water, the siren turns back, disappearing from view.

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

There are sex dreams, and then there’s whatever the fuck Duck is having right now. Fingers stroke his hair, cling to his shoulders. Kisses coat his face and a voice whispers his name as the speaker offers themself to him again and again. He sees himself tangled with a man, face always just out of focus, who spreads his legs and lips so Duck can sink himself into the heat of his body. The dream is endless and he doesn’t care, doesn’t ever want to wake up.

Saltwater in his lungs renders that desire useless. He snaps back to consciousness as another wave hits him; he’s up to his neck in the cove below his house.

“The fuck?” It’s only his footprints visible in the moonlight in the sand, so no one dumped him here.

“Oh dear.”

“Jesus!” Duck stumbles back as glowing eyes peer around a rock. It’s the siren from yesterday, swimming purposefully as Duck wades backwards.

“Look, uh, when I said I wanted you to wait to eat me, I wasn’t bein serious. Or, uh, I was, but I meant I didn’t want to be eaten ever, not just then. It was a, uh, a joke.”

“I am aware.” The siren stops as Duck topples on his ass in the shallow water, “and I am sorry. I, ah, I did not mean to lure you from your bed. I was not aware my mindless singing was enough to wake you. In most futures, you slept until dawn.”

“Uh huh, sure, because sirens are known to just serenade folks without wanting to drown ‘em.”

“We do it more often than you might think.” The siren sighs, “I came here to keep you safe, and succeeded only in making you afraid.”

Duck, having scooted inelegantly onto dry land, watches the tan upper body of the siren sag. It’s awkward, a word not associated with this kind of mer. That suggests he’s telling the truth.

“You gonna tell me why you’re playin watchdog at my house?”

The siren chirps, intrigued, “In all but one future you told me to go away.”

“That’d just leave me with more questions. And so far, you ain’t done anythin other’n watch me; if you say this was an accident, I’m willin to hear you out.”

“Wonderful!” The siren claps his hands together and the tip of his tail flips out of the water. Then he clears his throat and recites, “I am known as Indrid Cold. As you noticed, I am a siren. I am also a gifted seer, artist, and lifeguard when humans are unconscious and thus will not try to kill me for rescuing them. I am an excellent fisher, and well-liked and/or feared by the larger creatures of this coastline. This is why I think I would be an excellent mate.”

“O-kay. Did you call me out here to practice your personals ad?” Duck smirks, charmed by Indrids earnest tone.

“This is not practice. I did a great deal of that earlier today. This is my formal declaration that I would very much like you to be my mate.”

“Ma--hold on.” The images from his near-fatal dream return, “were you singin’ to hit on me?”

Indrid crosses his arms, “For the last time, that song was not for you. It was about you, because I was daydreaming and my formless melody unintentionally conveyed the contents of said daydream into your mind.”

“So everythin in it, all that wild fuckin stuff, that’s stuff you wanna do with me?”

A nod, accompanied by a flash of white light under the water.

“Why?”

“Because you are strong, and handsome, and capable on the water. I watched your futures yesterday and today and saw you are kind as well, well-liked by other humans but a little lonely at night. You are very nice to that small land-otter that lives in your house.”

“You mean the cat?”

“That’s the word! Yes, you are nice to your cat. You are not brash or cruel, and you look so very nice without a shirt. I...I like you, Duck. You are everything I want in a mate.”

“Feel like I might be missin’ some gills and fins.” He jokes to cover the fact he’s scanning his mind and body for the same dreamy lull he felt during the song. What he finds in it’s place is his ego purring from praise and wondering exactly what a siren would do for his mate.

“There is no rule that says I must choose only my own kind for such activities. I, ah, I know it is strange, given how little we know of each other, but I thought that, ah, since humans will have casual sex with each other maybe we could, or, ah, that is…” He’s watching Duck with such unconcealed hope that the human almost joins him in the water.

“Indrid, I’m real flattered. But I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t point out this feels like a fuckin trap. Pretty easy for you to drag me to my death once we’re, uh, in the middle of things. Not that I’m sayin you would.” He adds when the sirens smile dims.

“A sensible concern. May I join you on land for a moment? There is something I want to show you.”

Duck pats the sand beside him, eyes following the ripples of Indrid’s tail as he swims, slithers, and slides onto the beach. It reminds Duck of an oarfish, though when Indrid spies him looking the scales flash deep purple.

“Look there” Indrid points toward the end of the silver ribbon of scales; a round, white scar stares up at Duck. The details of a day over two decades in the past return to him.

“You’re the siren I found when I was a kid.”

“Indeed. I remember you by your eyes, though your face has some echoes of that day in it’s curves. You saved my life, showed me mercy when I expected none. Sirens do not forget a favor, and we do not kill those who once spared us. I will never harm you, even if you turn me away tonight. You will be safe, whether that is in my arms or merely in my territory.”

Duck avoids the stranger sides of life by the sea, citing a lifelong incompatibility with the weird. Turns out all he needed to find his exception to that rule is a handsome siren looking at him like he set the tides in motion.

The human runs a finger up the sirens tail, sparks of purple and pale blue light igniting in it’s wake.

“Didn’t know y’all changed colors.” He pets Indrid’s hip and the whole tail lights up this time.

“I am a deep-sea siren by birth, we use light to communicate emotions.”

“Mind, uh, loopin me in on the conversation?”

“Purple means desire. It’s a common color in mating displays.” Indrid watches Duck’s hand glide along his scales, and a burst of pale blue reflects across their faces.

“And that one?”

“Submission.” Indrid murmurs, “it is, ah, not the most desirable color to show. My kind value strength and power; enjoying the opposite is an invitation to mockery.” The siren’s eyes stay downcast, even when Duck smooths silver hair from his face.

“Now, I like to joke as much as the next fella, but that don’t seem like somethin to tease about.”

“No?” Indrid’s gaze flicks onto Duck the instant before the man straddles him. Duck doesn’t even have to push him onto his back; he goes instantly, hands flat on the sand and tail twitching excitedly in the shallows.

“No. Seems to me a sweet thing like you oughta be takin care of.”

Indrid snickers, “That is not usually an adjective one uses for meAHahnn” he arches as Duck tugs his hair.

“Let’s get one thing straight, sugar; I decide what you get called. I wanna call you the most perfect creature in the sea, I will. And if I wanna call you a needy little mer who’s good for nothin but gettin fucked into the sand, you’re gonna nod and say ‘yes.’ Understood?”

The blue light flashing up his tail brightens, “Y-yes but, but why do you call me sugar? That is a food.”

Duck giggles, leans down to brush their noses together, “It’s a nickname, call you it because you’re sweet and I can’t wait to get my fill of you.”

“Ohhhh, I see.”

“You wanna see somethin else?”

“Very much soOH, oh goodness.” Indrid gasps as Duck forces his gaze towards his cock attempting to free itself from his boxers. He grinds on the supple muscle of his tail to take the pressure off, chuckles when the siren whines and tries to kiss his chest.

“Since you’re the only siren I’d ever even consider fuckin-” Duck pauses as Indrid moans loudly, digging his fingers into the sand, “you gotta show me how to go about it.”

“If, if you just continue as you are a little higher upyes, yes right there” He rolls his hips, purrs with such a blissful expression that Duck is powerless to do anything but kiss him. His affection grows when he notices Indrid clearly restraining his kisses so as not to catch Duck’s mouth or tongue with his sharp teeth. The last guy he fucked shoved his tongue down his throat without any build-up or finesse, and now all he can think is if only Indrid had made his feelings know sooner, Duck could have done away with shitty human dates and had an obedient, eager mer instead.

“Mmmmm” Indrid licks his lips, runs his fingers up Duck’s sides, “kissing is nice. It is not something sirens often indulge in, so my chances to do it are few and far between.”

“Ain’t that a shame” Duck kisses the corners of his mouth, “lips like these were made to be kissed sore.”

Indrid purrs, wiggling his tail, and Duck looks down to see a slit opening where his clothed cock has been rubbing.

“Huh. Kinda figured you had-”

“-I have both this and an appendage below it much like your own.”

“Handy.” Duck, in no mood to climb off the purring, otherworldly man, eases the waistband of his damp boxers just under his balls.

“This, uh, this ain’t gonna actually create a, I mean, I don’t wanna accidentally-”

“Nono, there is no chance of procreation”

“And you’ll be okay with so little of you in the water?”

“Yesyes I will be fine.” Indrid tugs at his hips, bucks his own into the air in frustration.

“Just checkin’ oh, oh fuck” Indrid is tight and ridged around his dick as it slides in, “fuckin christ, no wonder sailors’ll crash into rocks at the offerin of fuckin a siren, wait, fuck, that was probably rude.”

“I will let it slide” Indrid teases, the end of his tail curling around Duck’s left ankle, “on account of your body is so lovely I would beach myself and die gasping on your doorstep for a chance to touch it.”

“No need for that. All you gotta do is wait here like a good little mer and I’ll fuck you as much as you want.” The slit pulses as Duck slowly fucks in and out, and he knows he’ll have to throw out all his fleshlights after this because nothing will ever compare to the deliciously alien feeling of Indrid around his dick.

“Do, do not joke about such things.” Indrid whimpers, clinging to his shoulders.

“I ain’t. You wanted a mate, right?”

“Yes, you, so very badly.”

“Well, you got one, and you feel so goddamn good on my cock I ain’t inclined to let you swim off and be someone else’s.”

“I do not want to, I only want you, please, please let me stay.”

Duck stills his hims and the siren writhes as he leans down. The human cups his cheek, “I want you to stay, ‘Drid. I wanna get to know you. Long as you promise you ain’t gonna fuck me unless you want to, and not because you’re scared I’ll turn you loose.”

“I promise.” Indrid initiates the kiss this time, purring when Duck takes his time kissing back.

“Good. Now that we got that cleared up” Duck sits up, “be a good mate and take what I give you.” He fucks in as hard as he dares, dives back down to kiss Indrid’s lips and throat as the mer’s cock emerges. Duck finds he can grind his ass along the twisting shaft at the same time he drives his own into Indrid’s body, resulting in a wail of pleasure and teeth sinking into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

“Sorry!” Indrid squeaks, hiding his face in Duck’s neck, “it, it is a reflex-”

Duck yanks his head back to his shoulder, near the first mark, and holds it down, “Do it again.”

Indrid trills and pain lights up Duck’s body, the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure coursing through him with each roll of their bodies. The siren chirps and moans, nips his arms and ears, slides his tail along his legs as his cock pumps frantically against his ass.

“That’s it sweet thing, cum for me while I fuck you. Show me just what my mate is for.” Duck bites Indrid’s neck and cum splatters the backs of his thighs as Indrid’s repetitions of his name drown out the noise of the waves. Duck’s orgasm follows fast, sweeps through him like the crescendo of a song carried on the night air.

Duck stays buried in him well after he’s finished, mind already conjuring images of tying Indrid down in shallow water and keeping his cock warm all day.

“Duck?”

“Yeah, sugar?”

“I, ah, I need to get back in the water.”

“Oh shit, yeah, sure.” He pulls out, tosses his sea-soaked boxers up the beach as Indrid slides into the sea. Duck wades in, stopping where it’s waist deep as the siren swims lazily circles around him.

“Such a perfect mate.”

“Glad you still think so.”

Indrid curls up to him, rubbing their cheeks together, “Thank you for indulging me. Do...do you wish me to come back tomorrow? Or to stay tonight? There are no other mers between here and my territory, so there is no reason I cannot count this stretch as mine.”

Duck kisses one of the hickeys blooming on tan skin, “How’s about you stay the night. We got some things to talk about. And, if you’re real good, I might let you fuck me when we’re done.”

Indrid grins, “My dearest one, I believe we have a deal.”

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

Nowadays, if you ever go near Kepler and the surrounding islands, you may hear people talk about Duck Newton, beloved native son, skilled park ranger, and the only man receive siren kisses and live to tell the tale.

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermaid au #siren au #monster march #monster boyfriend

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biletdoux · 4 years

Text

x marks the spot | x.dj

Member | xiaojun (nct) + gender neutral!reader Rating | g Genre + Tropes | childhood friends to lovers!au, idol!xiaojun, romance (fluff) Warning(s) | none, unless you consider badly written fluff something to be wary of lol Length | 5.1k+ Prompts | “Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you.” - Mariah Carey (All I Want for Christmas is You) + “I should be playin’ in the winter snow, I’ma be here under the mistletoe.” - Justin Bieber (Mistletoe) Playlist | All I Want for Christmas is You - Mariah Carey // Mistletoe - Justin Bieber // My Everything - NCT U

Summary | You were five years old when you met your best friend.

(Or; the cycle of waiting and wanting between you and Xiaojun throughout the years.)

Note: For the Walking in a Winter Wonderland Collab hosted by @suh-insane and @neocitybynight! Merry Christmas and have a happy holiday season, everyone <333 let me know what you think!

yo,,, fluff is so hard to write, so mad respect to all the fluff writers out there.

“Hey—”

You were five years old and had a knack for stating the obvious.

“You’re not Chengxiao!” Your voice was loud and annoying, the shrill ring of it reverberated throughout the open roof. Your index finger, straight and stern, was aimed right at his face in accusation, as if it was a sin to not adhere to your expectations. “Chengxiao was supposed to be here, not you!”

The boy who was indeed not Chengxiao, as you so clearly pointed out, sniffled even louder as he clutched at his toy buccaneer sword. All around you, drying linens and laundry swayed gently in the summer breeze to the sound of his soft sniveling, before he broke out into an all out sob.

You were five years old and also insensitive in the way that five year olds were.

“Uhm,” you faltered, your pointer finger recoiled back just ever so slightly as his cries continued.

This was not supposed to happen. You were supposed to be playing hide-and-seek with your building friends and maybe grab a popsicle down the street later once you all tired out. You lost the rock-paper-scissors between everyone and had to be the first seeker. You counted all the way to 100 without even peeking once, even though you were tempted many times when you heard the occasional giggle and scattered footsteps.

Chunyang was always the easiest to find between the three of you. He was also five like you and he always hid on the sixth floor of your shared building, usually behind the large potted plants near the stairway. You actually found him behind the leaky plumbing pipes at the end of the hall, but he was still on the sixth floor nonetheless.

Chengxiao was different. She was seven years old, two whole years older than you and Chunyang, and she was also much smarter than the two of you. It was always difficult to find Chengxiao because she was more tricky and clever than your one-track minded five year old brain.

When you found Chunyang, the two of you agreed to split up and search for Chengxiao separately, the first one to find her gets the ultimate bragging rights for the rest of their life. When you shook on the deal, Chunyang immediately took off for the stairs, clumsily bounding down the steps with as much grace as a five year old could muster, which left you with only one option remaining; climbing the flight of stairs to the roof.

The roof was large and vast, filled with a sea of linen and mismatched laundry drying in the wind. The sun was at its peak in the sky as you started your searching, scouring near and wide for Chengxiao. When you nearly lost hope, you noticed a pair of white sneakers belonging to a person hidden behind a billowing bed sheet. You rushed toward it with all your might, already tasting how a sweet a lifetime of bragging to Chunyang would taste on your lips, but as soon as you yanked back the cloth, your mouth immediately turned sour at the sight of a boy with brown hair and teary eyes.

Your tone was harsher than you intended, so here you were stuck with a blubbering boy and your lifetime bragging rights out the window.

“Hey,” you tried again. You were five years old and not very good at comforting people. “My mom says children who cry won’t get any candy until they stop.”

Unsurprisingly, his cries did not cease and you were scandalized by it. The possibility of no candy left you in shock and awe, so why wasn’t he feeling the same as you?

“Who, hic, cares about candy, hic,” he started, every few words out of his mouth was staccatoed by an uncontrollable hiccup. “If I can’t see, hic, my friends!”

“Huh?” you tilted your head to the side. “Why can’t you see your friends anymore?”

It took a few seconds of blubbered hiccups before the boy answered, “cause we moved far away from them!”

You absorbed his words in quiet consideration. How would candy taste if you had to move away from Chengxiao and Chunyang? Not very good, but…

“Why don’t you make new friends?”

“I don’t want new friends! I want, hic, to go back to my old home!” Indignant, he lashed back. “I want to go back, hic, and play pirates with my old friends.”

“I’ll play pirates with you,” you offered. You didn’t think much about the rest of the words that escaped your mouth either. “I’ll be your friend. I want to be your friend.”

The boy was significantly calmer after shouting out his frustrations. He wiped at his tears and for the first time you had a good look at his brown eyes. You didn’t know it at the time, but the boy, like you, was also five years old, and five year olds calmed down as easily as they lost their temper.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, tone soft and quiet. “Would you really, hic, be my friend?”

Your smile was brighter than the summer sun that day. “Yeah, of course!”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Yeah, and I can also show you my friends right now too. We’re playing hide-and-seek.” You grabbed his free hand, the one not holding the toy sword, as you tugged him to get off the roof. He followed obediently without a word.

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked over your shoulders, your voice ringing through the roof.

“My name is Xiao Dejun.”

You were five years old when you met your best friend.

The air was crisp with the sharp, but refreshing sting of sea salt as the waves crashed onto the side of your ship. You climbed out onto the main deck to check on the progress of the voyage. The waters were steady and your trusty sea vessel rocked to the rhythm of the ocean. There were no clouds in the sky this far out into the sea and the sunlight blinded your eyes, but you didn’t need to see it to know that the treasure was straight ahead. You took another deep breath to savor the thought of future riches before you turned around to go look for your first mate.

You traveled the expanse of the main deck before reaching the weathered ratlines. The rope felt coarse to the touch as you climbed all the way up to the crow’s nest. Once you made it, there he was, standing and staring out to the wide ocean, probably lost in thought about gold and jewels.

“First mate Xiaojun.” you called.

He turned his head and smiled. “Hey, I was waiting for you.”

You fully climb into the crow’s nest and settle beside him. “We’re about to find the secret buried treasure.”

“Yes, captain,” he nodded his head in agreement.

“What do you want to do with you half?”

“Hm…” Xiaojun was contemplative. “I’ll need to buy another sword. Mine is getting rusty. What about you?”

“I would like to—”

“Class! Recess is over.” Your teacher, Mrs. Huang, interrupted you before you could finish. “It’s time to head back now.”

And suddenly your trusty sea vessel was no longer a ship, but actually a small corner of the large school playground. The tethered and hardened ratlines melted away to reveal the metal ladders of the play area and the crow’s nest was the slide tower. The sun, however, remained as bright as ever.

Your first mate looked at you and a mischievous glint crossed his eyes. “I’ll race you to the classroom!” He hollered as he threw himself down the slide and took off running as soon as his feet hit the ground. You were not far behind him as you shrieked for him to slow down.

You were eight years old and you kept your promise to him about playing pirates.

The two of you became the best of friends shortly after your encounter on the roof. You grew close to him exceptionally fast when you learned he and his family had moved to the same floor as you and your family. Chengxiao and Chunyang liked him well enough and your tight trio grew to accept a fourth corner.

When school rolled around, you were delighted to find out he was also enrolled in the same school as you and even was in the same class. Since then, the two of you had been inseparable.

He beat you to the classroom by a few steps and his smile was dazzling as he gloated to your face. You sneered back at him as you watched his fringe stick to his forehead from sweat.

“I only lost cause you cheated.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.”

You both sat down in your assigned classroom seating, with him exactly one seat behind you. Mrs. Huang announced it was independent study time, so everyone quietly pulled out their books.

When you pulled out yours, you realized you had broken your pencil and had nothing to write with. You pushed your chair back and leaned over on his desk.

“Hey Xiaojun, can I borrow a pencil?”

He was still Dejun then, but he was always Xiaojun to you.

He looked annoyed, but went to rummage for his pencil pouch in his backpack anyway. “Don’t call me that unless we’re playing. How many times have I told you to call me Dejun? That’s my name so use it.”

“But I don’t want to,” you huffed.

“And why is that?” Xiaojun found a suitable pencil and handed it over to you.

“Because,” you took the writing utensil from his outstretched hand. “You’ll always be my first mate Xiaojun no matter what.”

You returned back to your desk before you could notice the blush that colored his cheeks and you didn’t turn back to him again for the remainder of the independent study time. You didn’t realize it at the time, but Xiaojun never bothered to correct his name ever since.

You were eight years old when you became someone special to Xiaojun.

You felt hot and sticky.

Summers in Guangdong were hot and humid in ways that left you gasping for air as if you had been trudging through a thick wall of sludge. The heat was heavy and thick, reminiscent of an unpleasant weighted blanket that wrapped around you at all the wrong times and places. During the summer, the Guangdong sun was angry, and you felt as though its wrath was personal from how intensely the rays would beat down on your back as you hopped from one stall to another. Nonetheless, you were not deterred because you came here on a mission.

You were thirteen years old and wanted to do whatever it took to find your best friend the perfect birthday present.

You prepared for August 9th tirelessly with impressive care and consideration. You had been casually asking questions and fishing for hints months before the fated date to figure out the most perfect and surefire gift for Xiaojun. When you realized he wanted a new controller for his PlayStation because the ‘X’ on his current one wasn’t working half the times, you knew you had to get him a new one. And so, you started to plan.

Step one was complete. You figured out what Xiaojun wanted, but now step two was in the way. How were you going to get it for him? You were thirteen years old and you had no money. You couldn’t ask your parents for money because then that would mean your parents actually got Xiaojun the present and not you, even though it was your idea. After thinking long and hard, you decided to carefully siphon a small portion of your lunch money each day until you had enough to purchase the controller. Even though the lunch money was from your parents, the money was given to you, so now it’s your money and not your parents’ anymore and you had to work hard to save it, so using this money to buy Xiaojun the gift will be really meaningful.

You were thirteen years old and your logic was a bit off, but your heart was in the right place.

After months of saving, you finally had enough and couldn’t be happier. You had everything set and just needed to find the time to go out to the electronics store. You were so giddy that you nearly let the big surprise slip one day when you were over at his house.

It was two days before his birthday and Xiaojun was just at your house yesterday, which meant that today, the two of you would go back to his. Xiaojun’s mother was already used to this and prepared pre-cut slices of fruit for the two of you before the front door even opened. The two of you bowed in thanks before greedily grabbing the plate of fruit before barreling to his room with a large slam of his bedroom door.

You were laying on his bed munching on an apple slice in your hands and Xiaojun was at his desk on his rolling computer chair with an orange slice in his. Outside of his window, the hustle and bustle of a Guangdong afternoon can be heard, but the noise was far away for you and Xiaojun were in your own quiet little bubble.

When he finished his orange slice, Xiaojun suddenly perked up. “Hey, you want to see something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He stood up and walked over to his closet to grab a box. Inside, he pulled out two new PlayStation controllers, still in the factory wrapping and all, and your heart dropped.

“My parents got this for my birthday. They gave it to me early cause I did really well on my exams and they knew my current controller sucks,” he explained. “Want to play that new game? It’ll be so nice to finally have a working ‘X’ button.”

You felt nauseated and suddenly had to go. You were thirteen years old and you were a little dramatic.

You never gave Xiaojun a proper explanation for leaving so suddenly that day, but you had bigger problems to deal with. What were you going to do now? Step one was now out the window, but at least you still had the money you saved up, so maybe you can still make this work. It would still be okay because you had one full day tomorrow to go out and shop for his gift. Except that when you returned home, your mom informed you that your extra tutoring classes would be doubled tomorrow because your teacher will be out of town and can’t teach for the next few days. Great.

So that’s how you found yourself here, at the local street market standing under the blazing sun in your tutoring school uniform. It was summer break and your parents signed you up for additional morning classes. By the time you were let off, you’d only have an hour to shop for a gift, until it was time to go to Xiaojun’s party.

Originally, you thought one hour should be more than enough, but as you drifted from one stall to another, you realized no one had anything just right for Xiaojun and you already promised yourself you were going to get something perfect for him, and you didn't break your promises. By the time you found something perfect for him, you didn’t realize 55 minutes had passed. When you checked the time, your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. You were definitely going to be late. You paid the stall lady and barely waited for change as you made a mad dash toward Xiaojun’s apartment.

When you arrived, Xiaojun’s mother greeted you warmly and let you in. “He was waiting for you. He refused to start without you.”

Xiaojun had a small party with only close friends and you were the last to arrive. You felt embarrassed initially, but that was soon forgotten when the party started.

When it was time to open the presents, Xiaojun saved yours for last, in fact, he didn’t open it until all the guests left and it was only the two of you with his parents cleaning the aftermath of the party in the background.

He carefully pulled apart the hastily wrapped box and you held your breath in anticipation. He held up the keychain in the air to show the leather strap next to a metal charm in the shape of a ship’s helm. Xiaojun said nothing for a whole minute and suddenly you started to doubt yourself.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “I love it.”

His smile made your breath hitch.

You were thirteen years old when your heart started to feel lopsided in ways it had never had before.

The paper sitting in front of you was due soon and yet it was still there on your desk, unfinished, as if it were mocking you. You felt annoyed, but you knew at the end of the day this was your fault and only you could fix this, but no matter how hard you grasped your pen, you could not urge words of ink to spill out and fill the page. You were not sure how long you stared at the page, but you knew you had to do something about it.

You were seventeen years old and you were lost.

With an indignant huff, you grabbed the sheet of paper and marched all the way to Xiaojun’s apartment. Xiaojun’s parents were out, so it was Xiaojun himself who let you in. He was surprised to see you, but welcomed you warmly, glad to see you face.

“Hey,” he already started to make his way back to his room after shutting the front door, not even bothering to look back to see if you were going to follow because he knew you were. “What’s up?”

Immediately after entering Xiaojun’s room, you plopped yourself face down onto his pillow while holding up the white sheet of paper in the air. “This is killing me,” you groaned.

Xiaojun chuckled before taking hold of the paper. His eyes widened when he read its content. “You haven’t filled it out yet?”

This sheet of paper was going to determine your whole future. This sheet was going to be your priority list of which colleges you wanted to apply for and which major you were going to study, so your teacher could help narrow it down for you and give you some career counseling.

“I don’t know what to put,” you whined. “Help me, Xiaojun.”

“Okay, okay, do you know what school or major you’re interested in?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Fair point. Uhm. What’s the best school you think you can get in?”

“I don’t know, maybe some local university?”

“Okay… and major?”

“I don’t know, whatever department is easiest to get into I guess.”

Xiaojun gave you a pointed look. “Come on, take this seriously.”

You were seventeen years old and you were frustrated.

“I don’t know, Xiaojun! I really don’t have any clue whatsoever and everyone around me is so disappointed because I have no direction, but trust me, I can guarantee you that I’m much more disappointed than everyone around me.”

Xiaojun’s eyes softened and he moved to sit on his bed near your defeated figure. He rubbed your back gently and his tone was sincere. “I’m not disappointed in you. I could never be disappointed in you.”

You looked up at him before opening your arms wide open for a hug, which Xiaojun granted easily. The two of you laid there in easy comfort despite the impending unknown future that loomed overhead, casting a shadow of doubt in its wake. When you were with Xiaojun, none of that mattered.

After a while, your head perked up from its place on top of Xiaojun’s arms as you looked at him. “Wait, what about you? Did you fill it out? What do you want to be?”

Xiaojun laughed, “yeah, I did.”

You waited expectantly, but he said nothing. You grew annoyed. “Well? What’d you put?”

Xiaojun looked at you. His eyes were soft and warm, but you could see some faint traces of hesitation, like a surface of still water had been disturbed. The pit of your stomach dropped and you felt your throat go dry with nervous tension.

“I want to be a singer.”

You punched him lightly. “You scared me, cause you got all serious for a second.” You laughed out loud, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. “You’re for sure going to be the best singer in all of China, no, the whole world! And I’m going to be there every step of the way to support you, Xiaojun.”

“Okay,” he smiled softly, but his tone was almost bittersweet as though he was trying to pull back. “That’s good to hear.”

“Why are you acting so weird? This is not like you at all.”

He said nothing at first, but then his words hit you. All the weight off your shoulder earlier returned tenfold. “I was casted. I’m flying to South Korea next week.”

Your heart was pounding as you tried to make sense of the words that left his mouth. You remembered the first time he confided you in absolute confidence about his dreams and aspirations. You remembered countless hours he put into singing and you remembered how often he would stream videos of singers he admired. You remembered all of it.

“I’m,” you started. “I’m so happy for you, Xiaojun. This is it, this is the start of your dream. I couldn’t be more proud of you, Xiaojun, I mean it.”

The sincerity in your tone had Xiaojun choking on his words and he didn’t know what to say. All that left his mouth was, “what do you want to be?”

“Me?” Your chest felt heavy. “I think I just want to be happy.”

“Yeah,” he hummed. “I want you to be happy too.”

A week later, you saw Xiaojun off at the airport. He exchanged tearful goodbyes with his parents and suddenly he was standing in front of you. His eyes looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for something that you were not sure you were able to procure for him. You gave him the biggest hug you were able to muster and hoped all the unsaid things could be transferred through touch. The two of you stayed in each other’s arms until his flight was called. With a final wave, he was off, and when he turned around to walk toward his terminal, you saw a keychain with a metal charm and an old worn down leather strap hanging from one of the zippers of his carry-ons.

You were seventeen years old when you felt your heart swell with undeniable pride, yet break simultaneously.

You missed Xiaojun.

You were twenty-one years old when you came to terms with your feelings for your best friend. It was not an earth-shattering, cosmic-altering, reality-bending epiphany, but rather a quiet revelation followed by unspoken acceptance.

You were currently sitting in economy class on a flight en route to Seoul, South Korea. You had still kept in contact with him throughout the years he was out there pursuing his dreams. You decided to enroll in the local university and you picked a major on a whim. Despite the circumstances, you had really come to terms with it and grew to like it. You were now working hard at developing a solid career from it and you felt proud of yourself.

When text messages and video calls became few and far between for you and Xiaojun due to busy schedules and time zone differences, you knew he was something more than just a friend. Your heart fluttered whenever you heard his specially assigned notification tone. You felt giddy each time before you opened his message and you read each text at least three times before sending a reply. When you don’t hear from him on days on end due to his busy schedule, time passed by at an unbearable pace.

Xiaojun made his debut and you were one of the first to pre-order his albums. You constantly gushed and raved about his singing and his dancing. You stayed up countless nights to let Xiaojun vent and de-stress over video call despite having to sacrifice precious hours of sleep. True to your word, you were there with Xiaojun every step of the way while he achieved his dreams, but he was also there for you when you figured out your path. He was there to listen and offer advice as you considered one career path over the other and which internship to take. The two of you were there for each other.

Due to the very nature of growing up and what that entailed, both of you were very busy and the timing was always slightly off. When you were free, he had to go on tour, but when he was free, you had to go out of town for your internship. As such, you were twenty-one years old and had not had a chance to see your best friend in person for nearly four years since he left for South Korea.

But this year, for the winter holidays, it was going to be different. You were going to make time to go see him no matter what. You were firm on the requested days off and you booked the flight weeks in advance. Xiaojun was kept in the loop of your meticulous holiday planning at all times to ensure that he could free up his schedules at just the right time to see you.

The two of you never actually expressed your changing feelings for one another, but perhaps you didn’t need to. You had known each other practically your whole lives and what is a relationship if not the constant changing and finetuning of the little details?

You weren’t blind to the consistent ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts you received from Xiaojun each day without fail, nor was he blind to your constant fretting if he had eaten yet and how he should always be taking care of himself. It was the little things that sung of true love.

When the two of you had the chance to video call, his eyes would light up with a smile to match and you feel your soul ache in the most tender of ways. The two you lingered longer than necessary when it came to ‘goodbyes,’ but it was to be expected.

You smiled to yourself thinking about him as you looked outside the plane window. Your flight was landing soon and you felt your anxiety gnaw at your joints while your hesitancy took a bite of your lungs. When you landed, you felt as though the ligaments in your body rusted over and each breath of air you took never seemed like enough to flow through your system. You took a few more deep breaths to center yourself before getting up to leave the plane.

You managed to calm yourself down a substantial amount, but you felt it lurk back behind you as a sudden chill traveled up your spine during the taxi ride to Xiaojun’s dorm. It threatened to seize you by the throat, but then you realized, this was Xiaojun you were coming to see.

The same Xiaojun who cried easily and had a pirate phase through most of his childhood. The same Xiaojun who took long bites in between food and would lose in arm wrestling matches. The same whose voice could reach unknown heights with a dedication and devotion to match. The same Xiaojun who was your best friend since childhood. The same Xiaojun whom you loved.

And with that, whatever haunted you dissipated and you found yourself at the steps of his dorm. You watched as your breath came out in chilly wisps as you knocked on the door. The sound of padded footsteps ambling along hardwood floors were heard and suddenly you were face to Xiaojun after a whole four years without him.

The two of you took each other in. Video calling did not do Xiaojun justice. He really matured into his features over the years and you couldn’t help, but stare.

Xiaojun broke the silence first. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, you yourself,” you breathed.

“Come on, don’t just stand there,” Xiaojun ushered as he helped you grab your luggage. “It’s cold outside.”

You followed him as he led you to his room. You looked around with curiosity as you passed by. The WayV dorm was cozy, but surprisingly empty, not that you minded. When you got to his door, Xiaojun saw the look on your face and knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Everyone’s out right now,” he explained. “I can formally introduce you to them when they get back.”

You nodded and watched as Xiaojun placed his hand on the door knob, before stopping in hesitation. He looked at you in earnest. “Promise me you won’t laugh, okay?”

“Nothing can phase me, Xiaojun. I practically lived at your house and vice versa, or did a few years abroad make you forget that already?” You teased.

He gave you a look, but opened the door for you nonetheless. You expected a messy room with random socks strewn on the floor and the desk chair stacked high with a pile of clothes, but what greeted you nearly took your breath away.

The floor was spotless and fairy lights lined the walls and occasionally looped around the floor. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner dimpled with various ornaments of various sheen and sparkles. Xiaojun led you to the center of the room where the various colored fairy lights crossed one another’s path. A mistletoe tied on the fanlight hung overhead.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

Xiaojun smiled as he drew you in closer. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I really wanted it to be something special. Merry Christmas.”

You started to tear up as you moved to meet Xiaojun in the middle, “I love you, Xiaojun.”

You were twenty-one years old when you kissed your best friend. His lips were soft and his tongue sweet. He tasted vaguely of vanilla lip balm and peppermint bark, he tasted like the love of your life.

When you pull back from the kiss, the adoration in his eyes made you greedy for another, so you dove back in, but not before Xiaojun can let out a quick laugh and a reaffirmation.

“I love you, too.”

The two of you kissed and kissed again, under the mistletoe.

You were twenty-one years old and you were happy.

masterlist.

#neowritingsnet #nctcreations #cznnet #xiaojun scenario #xiaojun fanfic #xiaojun fluff #nct scenario #nct fanfic #nct fluff #wayv scenario #wayv fanfic #wayv fluff

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aggressive-positivity-network · 4 years

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Your demo in a relationship headcanons were simply aaaaaaahhhh!*chef kiss* could we maybe have some for everyone's favorite aussie stringbean?

I absolutely love Sniper...he’s one of those characters I can just fall back on. I also just like Australian accents, especially when he speaks in a low, intimidating voice. Gets me every time. Makes me either blush or happy stim whenever I hear it.

First Date:

You find Sniper on a dating app after a particularly bad break-up.

His profile picture is of him shirtless, holding a huge gun next to him. However, instead of looking sexily into the camera, he’s looking off camera with a bewildered look on his face.

His bio says, “My friends put me up to this. Don’t expect too much. If you go on one date with me maybe they’ll shut up. Who bloody knows?”

You get curious, and you decide to start a chat with him.

“Your friends put you up to this huh? 😏”

“yeah. what of it?”

“What, are you some lonely wolf type or what?”

“you could say that.”

He was texting back almost immediately. Even if he wasn’t a lovey-dovey person, he was certainly interested.

“How would you like to get those friends off your back?”

“i’m free wednesday.”

You make plans, which, despite only seeing this as a one-night stand, you gradually get more and more excited for.

You meet Sniper at a nicer restaurant, wearing a new black dress that you hadn’t worn yet.

When you finally see him at the lobby, you realize that the picture didn’t do him justice, even thought he now had a beige suit on.

His lankiness showed a bit more, but his arms were very strong despite his frame. He was wearing sunglasses, which added an air of cool refinement.

At first you thought he was British because of his texts, but when he spoke, you knew right away he was Australian. You are far from disappointed.

You are still waiting for your table when all of a sudden, Sniper takes out a huge knife. Before you can react, he quickly slices something out of your vision and then brings it before your eyes. You had forgotten to take the tag off your dress.

“I’m flattered. I didn’t think you’d get all shinied up for me.”

You breathe out shakily and rub your neck. Sniper’s eyes furrow.

“I didn’ nick ya, did I?”

“N-no...just s-scared me...”

You thought maybe you had met up with a psycho, and all your suspicions were not put to rest yet, but the close encounter seemed to awaken something in you.

The date continues as normal. Both of you are pretty awkward at first, especially since the knife incident. But before the main meal is brought to your table, you’ve started up a conversation.

Sniper told you he was in the military, but his base is very lax with dress code and schedule.

You start telling him about your job as a graphic designer when all of a sudden a scream interrupts you mid-sentence.

There’s a guy holding a gun about eight tables from you, pointing it at the many patrons. He doesn’t seem drunk, but just enraged.

“WHAT’S A GUY GOTTA DO TO GET SOME DAMN FRIES?!”

The manager tries to talk to him, but ends up getting shot, most likely dead.

The yelling continues for about fifteen minutes. You are very uncomfortable, not to mention terrified, but Sniper seems oddly nonchalant.

Suddenly, Sniper yells, “OI! THEY’RE BRINGIN’ OUT YOUR FRIES! RIGHT THERE, MATE!”

The guy follows Sniper’s finger, and all of a sudden there’s a gunshot. But it wasn’t from the madman’s gun...it was from Sniper’s.

The guy falls over on top of the bleeding manager, writhing in agony.

Before you can even process what’s happening, Sniper grabs you by the arm and drags you out of the restaurant.

“Dishes it out but can’t take it, eh luv? C’mon, we’ll go to my place. It’s real nice.”

You get into his van, which smells like a mixture of old leather, beef jerky, and...something else. However, your terror quickly trumps your logic.

“First Time”:

Despite your fiasco of a first date, you still decide to stay at Sniper’s until it’s all blown over.

His apartment is covered wall to wall with guns, memorabilia, and sticky notes, usually with names and dates written on them.

On the far wall was a cork board filled to the brim with pictures, yarn, and Xs made in thick red Sharpie.

“If I woulda known it would go this far, I woulda tidied up the place. Sorry about that, luv.”

You brush it off, and you both sit on an old leather couch with bits of stuffing sticking out of it.

You take this as a cue to get around to what this whole date had been about: some sweet, sweet rebound. It seems awkward now that you had gone through so much - besides, you hadn’t expected to connect with Sniper the way you have...

But you still manage to spit it out.

“Er...yeah. That’s what people usually do, right? Yeah? I dunno. I’ve been off the playin’ field awhile.”

Sniper puts his hands around your neck and let’s you begin to kiss him. But it was clear after a while he wasn’t into it, so you pull away and ask if he wanted to wait another time.

“Aw, no, shiela. Look at me, lyin’ ‘ere like a dead fish...I just...I’ll try ‘arder, luv, I promise.”

You pull away completely. This had trauma written all over it, and you weren’t about to force someone into it...you were better than your ex.

“Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

You asked him what was wrong, and why he was being so passive about what was happening to him. Why didn’t he say anything? Do anything?

Sniper sighed, pulling his hat way down in front of his face.

“I like girls, don’t get me wrong. It isn’t that. But I never felt...that way about ‘em. Or anybody else, honestly. I tried it once in college...I just ended up feelin’ sick. Tried it with another girl, then another, then another. I even tried with my guy roommate. But I always ended up feelin’ like I was gonna puke. Sometimes I did. It just never felt right. It wasn’t magical, it was bloody disgusting.”

“But every girl I’ve ever been with expected it, and to keep ‘em, I ‘ad to do what they wanted. Sometimes I’d just lie there, tryin’ not to vomit, trying to at least move a little, act like I was into it. They said they’d change my mind, that this time would be different. At the end of the day, it never was, and I lost ‘em. And now I’m gonna lose you too, ‘n I’m gonna halfta tell the guys...they’ll never let this go...”

Back At The Base... :

Spy called the entire team into the security room to watch the entire date go down. He had placed a bug on Sniper’s suit while helping him adjust it, and now everyone was here to watch the show.

Everybody cheered when the guy was shot, though Spy made a mental note to call Miss Pauling in the morning.

The whole team, Scout especially, was excited to see some action when Sniper brought you to his apartment. Well, everyone except Medic. He stood their with his eyebrows creased. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

“Aw, c’mon Snipes, what’s the hold up?! She is so inta you!”

There wasn’t any sound, so no one exactly knew why Sniper paused for so long.

Finally, you two came back together again, but after about thirty minutes of just kissing, the other mercs got bored really fast.

Scout was especially disappointed.

“Man, this was whole thing was a bust!”

Spy shrugged. “Not quite a waste of time. Look at her. She’s smitten. I never thought I would say this, but gentlemen - we have found Sniper a suitable suitor!”

Medic, eyes wide, kept his Sniper’s medical history too himself - not for HIPAA, but for the drama of it all. He wanted to see how this would play out.

Love At First Shot:

On a casual date at his place, Sniper catches you admiring one of his weapons.

“That’s one’s a beaut, ain’ it? That’s one ‘a my oldest guns. She’s outta service, the old girl, but she don’t look a shot over thirty.”

He picks it up and cocks it, nodding approvingly.

“Got this offa real bloody fruit seller. The muzzle ‘ad stains all over it, rust in some places...the bloke obviously had no idea how to take care of it.”

You suddenly feel a pang in your chest.

“Oi, luv, not a fan ‘a guns?”

“No...I...it just made me remember something.”

Sniper puts down his weapon, sits on the sofa, and pats his leg.

“‘Ere. Tell me about it.”

You hesitate for a moment before shyly sitting on his knee. You’re on the smaller side, but you were still afraid you might hurt him.

“Aw, it’s alright. Put your full weight on. These babies can ‘old an Aussie an’ an AK-47.”

You giggle, letting yourself get a little more comfortable.

“Now, luv...what’s on your mind? What’s that pretty lil’ head a’ yours thinkin’?”

You sigh.

“My boyfriend...or, my ex-boyfriend...we broke up for a reason. Or, well, I dumped him. We had been dating for almost three years, and I didn’t see it coming.”

“Crazy train crashed inta the station, huh?”

“He almost did. He...he had hit me before. I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t want him to get in trouble. But one night...it got really, really bad. He wasn’t even drunk. He was still in his work uniform. I stayed with a friend, and I told him it was over with a text - I was just so scared he’d find me. He knew my friends. He knew my address. And so I just wanted to find someone to protect me. It was more than just rebound...I just didn’t want to be alone. I wanted one person in my life he didn’t know so they could protect me.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you bit them back. You didn’t feel like sobbing in front of your new boyfriend. Sniper, though, started laying down, taking you with him.

Your head was now under his chin, and you were laying all along his body. The sudden show of affection caught you off guard. You started to cry, burying your face in his chest.

Sniper wrapped his arms around you, supporting your entire weight easily.

Neither of you spoke for a good fifteen minutes, except for Sniper saying an occasional, “Aw, sweetheart...”

Finally, you calmed down, feeling safe in your boyfriend’s embrace.

“Y’know, luv...”

Sniper hesitated.

“I...could teach ya how to shoot. If it’ll make ya feel safe.”

You sniffle and look up.

“I know ya probably want some big, strong man to protect ya, an’ I will. God, if anybody even touches a bloody ‘air on your ‘ead, I’ll kill ‘em. But I wan’ you to go to the movies, or the store, or just ‘ave a nice walk an’ not be lookin’ over your shoulder. I wan’ ya to enjoy your life, luv.”

“I...I can’t shoot a gun...”

“Why not?”

“I can’t...aim or shoot...I don’t think I’ve even held a gun before...”

“Well, we can fix that! ‘Ere...”

Sniper leans over and picks up his old gun again, laying it in your hands. It’s a bit heavier than you expected.

You run your hands over the muzzle and barrel, not even daring to touch the trigger.

Sniper puts his hands over yours and guides them over the gun, giving you more confidence about handling the weapon.

“A gun is like...like a dog. You train it right, an’ you train yourself, you’ll be fine. You’re no kid, so you know ‘ow dangerous these can be. But fear doesn’t shoot the bullet. Fear doesn’ aim for ya.”

Every time you went to his apartment, he would do this. Sometimes you two would be talking, and he would nonchalantly hand you the gun, which, after a while, you took without thought.

Now it was time to take you to the range.

He gave you that old gun to use as practice, but promised a newer, more compact gun when you had gotten the hang of shooting.

Hands on your shoulders, hands over yours, he taught you how to target a person’s more sensitive areas.

Over the next few months, you grew better and better at hitting your mark. You weren’t perfect, but you could definitely defend yourself.

One night, Sniper went to go get you both Chinese food, and you were hanging out at your apartment.

You heard a knock on your window. You ignore it, thinking a bird had flown into it by accident. However, as the knocking grew louder and more insistent, you lift your head, startled.

It was your ex-boyfriend.

He was in a suit, but his face wasn’t nearly as neat. His eyes were red and wide, and his hair was messy.

He had walked up the fire escape to your balcony, and was leaning against the rail, relaxed.

You stayed inside, but you knew that the door was unlocked - he could come in any time he wanted. And he knew this.

He spoke, and you could hear him through the glass.

“Still single. Just like I thought.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.

“I came back because I was worried. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...I thought maybe something had happened. You were so depressed when you left. I couldn’t help but think that maybe...well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here, and I am more than willing to be with you again. I think we both have cooled off, right? We’ve had some time apart, and now we’ve realized we’re madly in love with each other and can’t be apart for another minute...”

“I have a new boyfriend!”

You blurted it out so suddenly you even surprised yourself. But your ex was unmoved.

“Oh, right. Sure. How much are you paying him, this boyfriend of yours? Do you have to pay extra for sex, or do you have a pity discount?”

“He...he’ll come back...and...”

You looked beside you. Your gun was laying on the floor beside you. Sniper had just taken you to the range, and you hadn’t had enough time to put it away.

You remembered what he said...

“I wan’ ya to enjoy your life, luv.”

You put your hand around the gun, grasping it tightly.

You swallow.

“Come back and what?” your ex jeered. “What’s your new boyfriend going to do? Beat me up?”

You are still trying to make your decision when you hear the glass door open.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, angel. I want to see your beautiful face.”

You whip around, the gun in your hand. Your ex immediately recoils, his hands flinging up.

“Woah woah woah...!”

“Please. Leave.”

Your voice is hoarse, but you try to sound as firm as possible.

“Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I would never get back with you. Ever. You...you made me feel so helpless, scared, alone...I can’t feel that way forever. I don’t want you to get hurt, but I want you to leave and never come back. Please. Just leave me alone.”

Your ex smirks, albeit shakily. “You can’t shoot that. You’ve never touched a gun in your life.”

“My boyfriend wanted me to be safe. He wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be able to deal with creeps like you.”

You get up, gun still in hand, and your ex backs away.

“He did more than you ever did.”

“What, so you’re just going to shoot me? End up on the six o’clock news?”

“No. I won’t. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want you to leave. For good.”

“I bet that thing isn’t even loaded.”

You show him a half-full magazine and point to the fire escape.

“Like you know how to -!”

You quickly turn to a picture of a seaside landscape, shakily aim, and manage to shoot it, shattering the frame to pieces.

“Get. Out.”

Your ex practically runs out, yelling that he was calling the police.

Sniper comes back a few minutes later, and when he asks you what the hell happened, you start telling him between trembling breaths what had occurred.

Sniper turned bright red and tipped his hat down.

“That bloody wanker...fruit sellin’...”

He starts to walk towards the fire escape, but you stop him.

“I scared him off, please don’t...he said he was going to call the police...”

Sniper took a few deep breaths, calming down.

“We’ve got th’ best lawyers in the country. I’d like to see ‘im try.”

The police was never called - you think it was probably a pride thing, since you had overpowered him so easily - but you weren’t sure you had seen the last of him.

But with your own experience and Sniper’s, you had some piece of mind.

However, you were soon going to find out that Sniper had more power on his side than you thought...

*****************

Long time, no headcanon! Well, good headcanons, anyway. I rushed my last post, so I tried to go all out with this one. I might write a second part when headcanons are open again, but I think I prefer leaving some things up to the imagination, hm?

Anyway, more headcanons on the way! Same bat time, same bat channel! The next one is about siblings, though I may post shorter headcanons before that, since it’s such a fun idea to write.

#tf2 #tf2 fandom #tf2 ask blog #tf2 headcanon #tf2 headcanons #sniper tf2 #tf2 sniper

45 notes · View notes

lu-undy · 3 years

Note

lu lost perle eventually, mundy comforting him-just like you said before.

Here it is!

It was a quiet Saturday that day, but Lucien would remember it all of his remaining life.

He was busy with the usual chores left and right in the house while his other half was in town. The van needed to be checked and the fridge nearly empty.

Lucien changed the sheets on the bed and went to deal with the laundry. He whistled to himself as he came down the stairs with a basin in his hands containing said laundry.

"Meow?"

"Oui, ma chérie. Tu veux aider Papa?"

[Yes, my darling. Do you want to help Papa?]

Lucien's white, long-haired cat followed her Papa, walking close behind him. As soon as he put the basin down, she jumped in the old sheets and rolled on her back.

"Perle, non…" He chuckled and scratched her, tickling her all over her belly. She tried to gnaw on his fingers, grab them and push them away playfully. He pulled her out of the basin after a minute of playing and carried her in his arms to hug her, holding her like a baby.

He sat down on the floor and spent a few minutes cuddling with her, talking with her, exchanging headbutts and words of love and praise.

Lucien absolutely loved his cat, she was his counsellor, confidente and since he had rescued her when she was but a kitten, he watched over her and raised her as he would a daughter. And he remembered when he had rescued her. She had rescued him too.

Back in those days, more than a decade ago, he was on a mission and was coming back to his hotel room where he had found her at his door dirty, shivering and fragile. She was so dirty in fact that she was grey with patches of yellowish filth.

She had hissed at him all the while climbing on his shoe and not letting go of his ankle. He remembered how she planted her still soft claws and little fangs into him. Lucien had of course pulled her out of him to get rid of her, but to no avail. She stayed on him and he had hated it…!

He had eventually entered his flat with her and gave her a bath. Lucien smiled as he remembered how she bit his hand as ferociously as she could, the poor thing, until he opened a can of tuna. Unsurprisingly enough, she soon preferred to plant her fangs there.

Since then, they had learnt to live together, spy and kitten. And when the Frenchman came back home from work, she would suck all his attention to herself, meowing, asking for pets, for scratches and for more playtime until the poor thing was exhausted and would fall asleep holding Lucien's hand between her paws.

"Meow!"

"Ma chérie, je dois m'occuper des linges, donne-moi un petit instant."

[My darling, I need to take care of the laundry, give me a little instant.]

He stood back up and resumed his chores.

In town, Mundy was making haste. He glanced one last time at the list that Lucien had hand-written for him.

"Oh bugger, that's last week's one, isn't it?" He flipped the note and the back read "Je t'aime, mon chéri", which he now knew translated to "I love you, my darling."

Yeah, that was last week's note. Mundy shoved a hand in his pocket and took all the lists out, reading them back and front with his groceries bag in hand, in the middle of the market. And his awkward flipping of the little notes made him drop his bag.

"Ah, bloody hell…!" He knelt down and picked them up. A woman kindly stopped to help him. "Thanks, mate."

"No worries." She smiled and took one of the notes from the ground. "Oh, your wife has a beautiful handwriting."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped and he smiled.

"Yeah, she does." He answered.

"Here you go, you go it all back."

"Thanks again."

"No problem, have a nice day!"

The woman went away and Mundy finally found the right note. He checked and when he was sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he headed back home.

Lucien always asked him to throw away the past notes to not get confused between them all but Mundy couldn't. He loved those notes, they all had a different message on the back, but were all signed with a capital, cursive L and a heart.

When he finally hit back home, Mundy opened the door wide and slipped in before pushing the door back with his foot, given that his hands were carrying the food bag.

"I'm home, Lu'! I got everything on the list."

Mundy headed straight for the kitchen and put the bag down on the table. He then removed his jacket to get more comfortable, and hung it next to the front door.

"Lu'?"

The Frenchman was nowhere to be heard, so the Aussie started looking in every room.

"Lu'? Where are you, love?"

No one was downstairs so Mundy went upstairs. After looking in the bedroom and even the bathroom, he came out confused and frowning.

"Where the hell is he…?" He wondered out loud while putting his hands on his hips. He came back to the kitchen, dragging his feet, and looked at the notes on the fridge. That was how Lucien communicated when he wasn't there, by leaving a note on the fridge. But there wasn't any new one.

Hm. Odd.

Mundy turned to go back to the living room when a sight caught his eye through the French window, in the garden.

"Gosh…" He rushed to it and opened it. "Lu'? What are you doing there? Oh?"

The Frenchman was sitting cross-legged, his back to Mundy and his entire upper body rocking back and forth.

"Lu'...?"

When Mundy turned around him, his jaw dropped. Lucien was crying, holding Perle against his chest and rocking back and forth like a mad man.

"What is it…?" Mundy crouched down. "What's wrong? Why're you holdin' Pearl like that?"

The Frenchman couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything but keep his eyes closed and let his tears stream down his face, continuously. His breath hitched each time he tried to catch it, before he would dive in his sorrow again.

"What is it?" Mundy repeated and Lucien curled up even more on Perle. "Love, don't hold her that hard…" The Aussie put a hand between them, on Perle's fluff. "She'll claw you if you - oh, God…"

His pupils retracted to a dot when he felt how cold the cat was. His eyes darted to Perle, her face, her eyes that were still open.

"No… Give her over here…"

Lucien was so overwhelmed that he did not fight Mundy back. The Aussie took the cat in his arms and realised how limp her body was.

"Pearl…? Pearl, baby? Pearl? Talk to Dad? Meow to Papa, Pearl? Pearl?!"

He sat down and scratched her cheeks, feeling his own burn with the tears rising.

"Pearl, baby, say somethin', please?"

Lucien lowered his head and covered face in his hands, drenching them with more tears.

"Oh my God…" Mundy started crying too, sniffling between two bits of sentences. "When? When did she…?"

"I don't know… I was dealing with the laundry… She came to play with me and then she went on her own way… Next time I saw her, she was… she was on the grass and… Mundy…" Lucien caught his breath in a staccato. "Mundy…" He burst out crying again, leaning on his lover.

"I'm… Fuck…" Mundy pushed her eyelids to shut down. "We need to treat her right, baby, you hear me?"

Lucien nodded, his forehead against Mundy's shoulder.

"Right… Go in the house and get a box."

"Mundy, I can't… I… Tell me she is fine, please… I… I can't live without her… She has been here for the past fifteen years or so… I can't, Mundy…"

"Love, we gotta do what's right…" Mundy sniffled and looked down at his lover. "Y'know what, you hold her safe and I'll get what we need, yeah?"

"Mundy, please, no…" Mundy gave him the cat and knelt down to lace his arms around Lucien.

"Love, I… There's nothing else anyone can do…I'm sorry, I'm so bloody sorry…"

"But Mundy… She was our baby… Perle, ma chérie… Mon amour… Mon bébé… Ma petite Perle chérie…"

[Pearl, my darling… My love… My baby… My little darling Perle…]

Lucien held her in his arms and curled on her to hug her as tight as possible, crying in her fur. Mundy held him and let his tears flow too for a minute or so, before he stood up.

A moment later, he came back with a box and a shovel. He walked past Lucien and started digging in the garden.

Lucien didn't pay attention to him and kept on talking to his cat as if she could still hear him.

The sound of the shovel hitting the ground dissolved in the air and Lucien noticed only when it stopped, and the silence fell heavily. He turned to Mundy and saw the Aussie on his knees. Yeah, that hole was deep and big enough.

"C'mere, Lu'. Bring her in."

The Frenchman obeyed. He lay Perle in the box, and both him and Mundy closed it, crying all the while. When the box was lowered, they stood on all four and put the soil back, crying and mumbling, trying to bid farewell to the best friend and baby they both shared.

When they were done, none of them could move. Their hands were dirty, as were their trousers from kneeling down on the ground, but none of them cared. They stayed there in the garden, on their knees.

"Do you think that… we gave her a good life?" Lucien asked.

Mundy turned his head to look at him before closing the gap between them and lacing an arm around his lover.

"Yeah… Course, we did. She… She lived the best life she could ever have dreamt of. We… We treated her really well. I mean…" Mundy had to stop for an instant, to steady his breath. "We loved her so much… She was like… She was our baby, our little baby girl and… And you cooked for her from time to time and she'd always be there in the house… She'd be… She'd be playin' around with us and… Gosh, she was the best kitty ever. She was friendly and never attacked anyone. She loved to be the centre of attention and yeah, she loved pets and scratches and all that…"

"Mundy, I miss her…" Lucien turned and buried his head in Mundy's chest before crying more.

Grieving took weeks. The house was oddly silent. No one was there to steal the chicken when Lucien was preparing it. No one was shedding their white hairs on Lucien's clothes. No one would wake Mundy up early for nothing else but attention. No one would nap in impossible locations and positions. And when either Lucien or Mundy opened the cupboard in the kitchen, no one came and meowed for treats.

The silence sometimes screamed loud. The absence of meows and noises of claws on the wooden floor was unbearable.

That day, months after Perle had passed, Mundy was cleaning the house and realised that they hadn't dealt with Perle's toys, her bed, her cat tree and scratching post. All of her was still there, in the house. Neither him or Lucien had the strength to throw it away. It still counted too much. Mundy stared at Perle's little bed. He had built it with a few wooden planks and a pillow. Lucien had always chosen the pillow cases. They were all girly pink, or white with red hearts for example.

Mundy stared and stared. He sighed and Lucien saw him walk to the front door and take an umbrella.

"Where are you going, mon amour?"

[My love]

"I won't be long."

The Aussie exited the house. It was pouring outside and the umbrella was barely enough to protect him. He walked and walked. His heeled boots splashed into the thin layer of rain water on the pavement.

Lucien was left home, alone. He hated it. He didn't know what to do. He tried watching some television, doing some chores, anything! The silence was making him mad. He did all the chores and even prepared some dinner, in the middle of the bloody afternoon, just to keep him busy, and the house a bit noisy!

He ended up in the kitchen, looking through the French window where the grass had grown back, in that little corner. He had planted a little olive tree there now. Why? Because they had another one and Perle loved climbing it and playing with the olives when the time of the year was right. So there it was, the baby olive tree, growing as well as it could.

Lucien sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. Mundy, please come back soon…

And as if God himself had heard him, the front door opened.

"Mundy?"

"Yeah, love, it's me, I'm back, darl'."

Lucien went to him and took the umbrella away.

"Where did you go? It is pouring rain outside, couldn't it wait? Look at you, you are drenched."

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. I had to pick this up."

"Couldn't a new pair of shoes wait?" Lucien answered and took the drenched shoe box that Mundy was holding. "You left me alone and… It was horrible!"

Mundy removed his boots and his jacket.

"Look, gimme just a second. I'll take a quick shower and be right back with you."

Lucien looked at the shoe box and frowned. He put it next to Mundy's shoes near the front door and went to prepare some coffee.

When the Aussie came back fresh and dry, he hugged his lover from behind in the kitchen and kissed his temple.

"Hey, love."

Lucien didn't answer.

"Where did you put the box I brought with me?"

The Frenchman frowned.

"Next to your shoes."

"Oh, ok, be right back." Mundy went and returned a second later. "Love, come and sit on the sofa."

Lucien grabbed both their coffee mugs and came to the living-room. He took a seat on the sofa and put the coffees on the coffee table.

"Here." Mundy handed him the box.

"Mundy, I do not need shoes."

"Take it."

"Mundy-"

"I said, take it. Open it and see."

Lucien sighed. He took the box that he put on his lap and stared at it blankly for a second. He hated boxes now.

"C'mon, open it."

He placed his fingers left and right and lifted the cover.

"Mon Dieu!"

[My God!]

In the box lay a kitten. It was all grey and very fluffy with still its kitten fuzz.

"What is this, Mundy?"

"It's a kitten."

"I know, but what… I mean why?" Lucien asked, staring at the ball of fluff looking everywhere around it.

"Meow…?" The mewl was adorable and it pinched Lucien's heart.

"It's a baby girl. She's about two months old now. No one wants to adopt her cause people don't find grey cats pretty, so I took her from the shelter."

Lucien gently picked her up in his palms and pushed the box away to drop her on his lap.

"What is her name?"

"We can name her whatever we want, love." He smiled and Lucien's eyes filled with tears. He raised the kitten to his chest and hugged her dearly.

"Mon Dieu… She… She is so soft and…"

"Yeah, she was the last one of the litter too. All her brothers and sisters got adopted."

"Poor creature…" Lucien's tears beaded at the corner of his eyes and as he blinked, they slid down his slim cheeks.

"Yeah…" Mundy got closer and hugged his lover. "So what d'you wanna call her?"

"Perle." Lucien answered without thinking for one second.

"You sure? You named Pearl that way cause she was white. This one's grey."

"I know. But look at her… You did not see Perle when I rescued her but she looked similar to this one. She was a ball of grey hair too."

"We should name her something different." Mundy said. "She's not Pearl and she will never be her."

"I know, I just…"

The kitten mewled in Lucien's hands. He put her on his shoulder and she went to his neck and started playing with his face and his hair.

"Hey, it's fine. Let's have a think, yeah? She's grey this little one. What's grey?"

"I do not know…"

"Clouds?"

"Non." Lucien chuckled under the kitten's mewls. He offered more of his face and she touched his cheeks and headbutted him. "She is very excited…! Non, non, non, this is Papa's nose, don’t use your claws.”

“Meow!”

“Don’t talk back either, petit chaton cendré.”

“What did you call her?”

“Little ashen cat.” Lucien answered, playing with her on his lap.

“Ashy!”

“What?”

“Her name. She could be Ash, Ashy, something like that.”

“What about Cinderella?” Lucien asked.

“Meow?”

“It comes from Cinder which is grey, non?”

“Yeah, go for Cinderella, or Cindy for short.” Mundy answered. “What would that be in French?”

“Cendrillon.” Lucien answered. “A beautiful, princess name.”

The kitten played with his fingers.

“Now, I am Papa, and this scruffy man here is Dad.”

“Meow?”

“Scruffy?” Mundy repeated.

“Oui, you are scruffy, but I love your scruffiness.”

“Scruffy?” He repeated again and Lucien held the kitten up, facing Mundy.

“Cendrillon, do you find your Dad to be scruffy?”

“Meow!”

“See, she does!”

“No, she doesn’t!”

Both chuckled and Lucien freed their new baby on the carpet. She started discovering her vast new territory, one that she would soon call home. Meanwhile, Papa and Dad were still on the sofa.

“Thank you, Mundy.” Lucien snuggled against his lover.

“Hey now, it’s nothing.”

“Non, it is everything. I did not even think about saving a new kitten.”

“Nah, you can’t think straight when you’re sad, baby.” Mundy held his lover closer and kissed his hair. “Feel a bit better?”

“Oui, thanks to you again.”

“Bah, my pleasure, really. I love seeing that smile on your old face.”

“Old?!” Lucien exclaimed, his eyes opening wide.

“Well, if I’m scruffy, then you’re old.”

“Old?!”

“You're a good kind of old, like wine. You just keep gettin’ better and better. Can’t get enough of you.”

Mundy’s hands and lips made the Frenchman’s brain melt and his complaint dissolved in the heat of the embrace.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

24 notes · View notes

imagine-that-one-thing · 3 years

Note

Hey bub!! I love your writing. I don’t know if your taking any requests or anything but if you are, it would be really cute if you did a little something about Harry and his 2 year old little girl going to a cookout for 4th of July. They could go over and spend time with Anne and Gemma have a little pool party and bbq. His little girl throw a couple tantrums and put her in timeout and threaten her with “if you don’t behave y’ going inside” and also have Harry buy them matching clothes and bathing suits. I know it’s late since the 4th was a couple days ago but I just thought it would be really cute. And also I don’t know if the UK celebrates the 4th at all (sorry if they don’t, I’m not from there and I’m not really smart with other counties lol)

Hello, there!

The UK doesn't celebrate the 4th of July. It's just an American thing unless they wish to celebrate just for the fun of it. I have been in the US for a few 4th of July's, and it's pretty fun, but other countries don't celebrate it. I tried this piece of writing, but I have a headache, and I am tired, but I wanted to answer this as soon as I saw it.

With the chaos with everything going on, Harry had no intentions of travelling back to Europe any time soon. On the contrary, he liked the idea of not lugging his two-year-old through airports and on a long haul back to England. But, with his wife back and forth from New York to LA and both of them constantly flying, he decided that travelling for one of the busiest holidays was not the smartest of ideas.

Harry watches her in the rearview mirror, her little hands tugging at her little converse that she refuses to want to keep on. Of all the things for her to fight him on, she wanted to choose the shoes this morning. She doesn't care to fight him on the little red bow in her hair or the fact he promised his wife that he would make sure to wear the matching shirts she had sent. He isn't sure what it is about her tradition of wearing matching shirts and American apparel, but he won't question it. His wife may be stuck working, but her every wish is his command. "Why you playin' with your shoes?" Harry questions, his daughters instantly looking up at him, her lips falling into a pout, shaking her head at him. "Gotta keep 'em on until we get to your Aunt Gemma's, just a few more minutes," Harry encourages, watching as she narrows her eyes but quickly lets go of her shoes with a heavy huff. If anything, his daughter got from his wife. It was most definitely her sass and attitude. His daughter did not get her obedience from him. Harry chuckles to himself, shaking his head and continuing to drive.

Reaching his sister's house, he pulls into the driveway and turns to look into the back seat, "Now, darling, promise to be good?"

His daughter nods her head with a sweet little smile, "Yes, Daddy," she agrees, "But no shoes?" She questions, gesturing towards her shoes, causing Harry to sigh heavily. He knows she is going to bug him about the damn shoes until he gives in.

Harry hops out of the car and opens the back door, leaning in and unclipping his daughter from her seat, "Come on, lovely," Harry grins, taking her out from her car seat and placing her down, her little shoes hitting the hot concrete, the LA sun already scorching as it shines in the early morning. Harry turns back around, reaching in to grab the bag of all the essentials, spare clothes, spare bottles, anything he could think of that he may need. As much as his sister loves her niece, Harry knows that she has not had the time to buy toddler items for her niece in her prompt move to the US. "Hey, hey, no running off-" Harry begins, noticing his daughter hurrying off. He goes to scold her but stops when she sees her running into his mother's arms. "Goin' to give me a fuckin' heart attack one day," Harry mutters to himself, taking a breath to calm down. He is always on edge when her little legs take off.

"Oh, my darling, hello!" He hears his mother's gracious voice sound as she holds her grandaughter tightly, "Almost got yourself in trouble as always," Harry's mother chuckles, stepping closer to Harry.

"You got that right," Harry responds, offering his mother a small smile, "Hi, Mum," he greets, kissing her cheek before placing a small hat on his daughter, "Glad you made it in safely. How was your flight?" Harry asks.

"Quite lovely, not as crowded as I expected. Your sister has been here for a week and is going to burn her house down. She has the BBQ going..." Anne trails off.

Harry laughs, "Is that why I can smell charcoal?" ... "No need to worry. Your favourite son is here to save the day." Harry closes his car door, "Y/N sends her love. But, unfortunately, she couldn't get a flight out in time," Harry sighs, his lips turning into a frown for a brief moment.

"I know, she called me earlier. I told her I would fly out to visit her next week."

"Wow, okay, I see how it is," Harry chuckles, "Don't plan to visit me but will fly to my wife, got it," Harry gently nudges his mum, purposely teasing her.

***

Harry spent the morning in the pool, throwing his daughter around in the crystal clear pool water, her giggle filling the space around them. He had wanted to swim with her before the pool became too crowded for her. He knows she'd get anxious and overwhelmed, so it was only fair to give her a swim before the chaos.

With a dry towel wrapped around her body and her little fourth of July bathing suit, her hair falls around her face, her lips pouting as she subtly stomps her little feet, "But Daddy," she whines, not pleased with the fact she has to get out to reapply sunscreen.

She has been on her best behaviour until now, and Harry has to be the bad guy for a good reason.

"If ye' don't behave yourself, you're going to go inside and sit in time out," Harry softly informs his stubborn daughter, "Now, we can put your sunscreen on and wait for a little and go back in the pool, or we can go sit inside."

"Aunt Gemma no have a time out chair," his daughter responds.

"I will find one, darling," Harry responds, trying not to laugh at her comment, "So, pool or time out?"

"Pool," she mumbles, dropping her arms in defence and giving into Harry's demand for a quick sunscreen break.

"Good decision. Do want a juice?" Harry offers as he picks her up and carries her away from the edge of the pool. "Aunt Gemma has your favourite," Harry grins, doing his best to keep his daughter hydrated without having to fight her on it.

"Orange?"

"Of course," Harry responds, stepping inside the house, "If you ask nicely, she might give you some," Harry continues, placing her little feet down, adjusting her towel before gesturing for her to head to his sister.

***

Harry stands in the backyard with a beer in his hand, a few mutual friends' of him and his sister talking with him as he grills on the BBQ, ultimately taking it over like a typical Dad. He knew if he left it to his sister, everyone would be eating burned food and God knows what else. "Mate, we need to start our tequila label. We would have a good brew."

Harry chuckles, "Oi, I told you that the last time I had too much to drink, and you told me I was bonkers."

Niall shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, "Well, I was not in the right state of mind."

"Whatever," Harry shakes his head, "Did you watch the game?"

"Of course, I did. Did you?"

"No, my cable provider here doesn't play it," Harry huffs, "Had to listen on my phone and missed it all."

Before Niall can reply, they both hear the little whines that are all too familiar. He turns his head and finds the little girl with brown curls looking around, looking lost as she tries to find whoever she is looking for. "Over here, sweetheart," Harry calls, already beginning to walk towards her. He reaches her and picks her up, holding her on his hip, "What's the matter?" he questions as she wipes away a few tears. He can tell she is overwhelmed with her eyes darting around everywhere, her heart beating fast.

"I want Mummy," she sniffles, "Aunt Gemma left, and I no know where she went," she spits out through sniffles, burying herself into Harry's neck.

Harry sighs and caresses his hand to her back, "I know, we will see Mummy soon. I am sure Aunt Gemma is around somewhere," he assures her, "Come on, let's go inside for a minute," Harry whispers, passing the BBQ duty off to Niall, gesturing his head to the house, and Niall nods.

Harry takes his daughter inside, the cool air whispering around them as he passes a few friends and walks down the hallway, finding his sisters room and sitting on the edge of the bed. He massages his daughter's back, holding her close and adjusting her legs to be more comfortable. "Sleepy, hmm?" Harry softly challenges, starting to rock her slightly. She mumbles something inaudible, and he smiles to himself, "Sweet dreams, my darling," he whispers, beginning to softly hum, rocking her to sleep like he always does, no matter where or when.

The bedroom door slowly creaks open, and Harry flicks his eyes towards the door. "Sorry," he whispers as his sister walks in. "Didn't mean to take your room but figured it would be the quietest," Harry informs his sister, guilt settling in as he realises he didn't bother to tell her he would be in her private space.

"Shh," she shakes her head, "I don't care, brought her blanket," she holds up the small yellow blanket that his daughter loves, carefully placing it over her petite body.

Harry continues to rock his little girl, looking down at her as she peacefully sleeps. In his arms, he holds his pride and joy. No matter how many times she tests his patience and takes her shoes off, the little girl is everything to him. He'd drop everything for her in the blink of an eye, no matter what time of day it is. Outside, the other adults are having the time of their life, drinking beer, eating some good American food, and celebrating the occasion. Harry wouldn't want to be anywhere else but holding his little angel and watching her sleep, making sure she feels safe and secure.

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nalgenewhore · 4 years

Text

masterlist - ao3 - day seven - day nine

<3<3<3

It’s loud in the house. Music booms from every possible speaker and shakes the sticky, dirtied floor. Unlike usual, Lorcan doesn’t really mind the noise. She’s sitting with Aelin, listening to the blonde girl lament her woes.

“She’s so pretty, Lorcy, like… so so pretty,” Aelin gushes, trying to keep her voice down so that the object of her affections doesn’t hear. Since she’s drunk, Aelin has lost all abilities to self regulate and she’s practically shouting into Lorcan’s ear. “Just look at her! Why can’t I have her?”

Lorcan glances towards Lysandra, to where she dances freely in the middle of the room. Admittedly, she’s beautiful, but not Lorcan’s type. She gets why Aelin’s so into her, too. Lorcan’s vision is blurry, a result of the seemingly endless rounds of beer pong she and Aelin dominated, the joint that Lyria sweetly rolled for her, and the overcomplicated drinking game Fenrys insisted she join. “You can’t ever have her if she doesn’t know, Ash.”

Aelin pouts dramatically and rolls her eyes, “But then I’d have to tell her. Like… I’d have to talk to her.”

Lorcan snorts and slurs, “Gods, woman, just fuckin’ do it already. I’m gonna get alcohol poisoning if I have to sit here and listen to this.”

“Fuck you,” Aelin spits, bitter as she drains her beer.

After her drink is finished, Aelin goes on some rant, but Lorcan isn’t listening.

Her eyes, her entire body, really, is drawn to the woman who steps into the room, her cunning eyes sweeping across the crowd. Lorcan swears everything gets quieter. Aelin’s voice is muffled and the beat of her heart is so much louder than it normally is.

When Elide’s eyes lock on Lorcan’s, the woman grins, some sort of tension eased from her shoulders. She moves to join Lorcan, but then a happy woman with curly brown hair and doe-brown, freckled skin wraps her arms around Elide from behind.

Elide freezes and turns, relaxing when she sees that it’s only Lyria. Lorcan watches them, but her eyes never stray from Elide. She doesn’t want to wait for the cover of darkness to touch her. She spends her days trying to fool herself, pretending like the rushed and hasty moments she has with Elide are enough.

She cannot so easily do that now.

Before she realises what she’s doing, Lorcan is walking across the room, her path clear. Lyria looks up first, smiling at Lorcan, “Well, hey there.”

Lorcan smiles a tense smile and wraps an arm around her best friend’s girlfriend, “Hey, Lia.”

“You sure look happy,” the young hippie says, arching a brow up.

Lorcan laughs softly, her eyes heavy on Elide’s. “Lochan.”

“Salvaterre,” Elide replies, her voice cool and detached. Her eyes glitter with something secret. Lorcan loves that she’s the only person who can truly read Elide.

“I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

She curls a lock of glossy hair around her finger and a smile ghosts across her plush lips. Lorcan really, really wants to kiss her, but she knows she can’t. Not where everyone can see. “I didn’t think so either, but I just couldn’t stay away.”

Lyria watches them, not entirely sure what’s happening. She’s always told Rowan that there is something between the two girls, but he doesn’t believe her. He says that they’re both too upfront to keep their feelings hidden for this long.

Almost like she’s manifested him, Rowan walks in, put-together and professional as always, truly his girlfriend’s contrast. It shouldn’t make sense, but no one has ever seen them happier.

He slips his arm around Lyria’s waist and rests his hand on her hip. “Hi, guys.” He tucks his shoulder behind Lyria, always unconsciously protecting her from the world. “Hello, love,” he says to Lyria, sweetly kissing her temple. “Are you feeling alright?”

Lorcan’s heart cracks just a bit. She wishes she could do that for Elide, wishes she could dote on her. Subtly, she looks at Elide, who remains unaffected.

She returns to Aelin, but Lysandra’s in her lap. Lorcan silently seethes, choking on tears. She leaves, not able to stand it any longer.

Elide calls after her, but Lorcan doesn’t answer. She pretends not to hear. In the kitchen, Fenrys is organising something elaborate. The young man spies her and waves her over.

Lorcan cuts through the crowd, easily. People have always… quickly gotten out of her way. It’s one of her favourite things in life. Fenrys throws his arm around her neck, “What’s gotcha down, kiddo?”

“The princess,” Lorcan mutters, stealing another glance at Elide. She is… beautiful. Truly. Lorcan wanted to be around her, all the time. Her chest aches and she clenches her jaw, looking towards Fenrys’ pile of booze. “What’re we doing?”

“Getting you proper drunk, mate,” Fenrys laughs, passing her a can and a pair of keys. Lorcan forgoes the keys and taps the air bubble with her thumb. Then, she pierces the can with her teeth and quickly shotguns it.

Fenrys whoops and the next while goes by mostly forgotten. Eventually, they stumble into the living room and sit in a circle with their friends. Elide is opposite Lorcan and the brown-skinned girl can see the worried ‘v’ between her manicured brows. She drinks the water Rowan passes her and stretches her legs out. “What’re we playin’, G-Mone-ey!”

“Hellas, Lorcan, how drunk are you,” Elide comments drily, snorting softly.

Lorcan frowns and looks at her, taking the bottle Asterin wordlessly passes her. “Evidently not enough, princess.” The nickname is unfriendly and insulting this time, like it hasn’t been in awhile. She holds the bottle to her lips and drains it, decidedly putting it down on that floor. “So, what are we really playing?”

“Um…” Aelin looks around the circle, Lysandra lazily leaned against her chest. “Seven minutes in heaven. I wanna kiss pretty people.”

“Are we eighth graders, Ae?”

She clicks her tongue, “Hand me that bottle, fucko.”

Lorcan quietly mocks her friend and clumsily hands her the bottle. She pulls her legs back and waits.

“So,” Aelin says, smiling coyly, “I think our dear Lorcan should go first.” Lorcan protests loudly as their friends laugh and agree, all except Lyria, Rowan, and Elide. The former two watch the latter, recognising the signs of jealousy and hurt. Elide’s eyes flick around the circle, trying to determine who, exactly, wants to kiss Lorcan.

“You need to get some,” Manon says lowly, smirking.

“Ok, you know what, Blackbeak,” Lorcan starts, pointing menacingly at her. She takes the bottle from Aelin and spins it, flipping Manon off. “Bite me.”

Manon shakes her head and mutters into her glass, “I hate you.”

Lorcan shrugs and turns back to see who the bottle lands on. It spins and spins, catching on the flashing lights in the room.

Fenrys gasps loudly when it lands on Elide and the others snicker under their breaths, wondering what they’ll do. “Um… well. Ok.”

Elide presses her lips together and she stands, holding her hand out, “It’s nice to see that you’re enthused.”

Lorcan gets to her feet and takes Elide’s hand and tugs her out of the circle, ignoring the jeers. “I’m always enthused to do anything with you.”

Fenrys and Aedion herd them to the closet.

They’ve hardly closed the door before Lorcan is pressing Elide into it, her leg sliding between Elide’s thighs. Her hands tangle in Elide’s dark, dark hair and Lorcan pulls her head back, kissing down her jaw and throat.

Elide’s breath hitches in her throat and she arches into Lorcan, her eyes falling halfway shut. She tugs Lorcan’s face up to hers and holds it, like Lorcan is something precious, like she deserves to be treasured. “I can’t,” Elide pants, her body craving something that she can’t give into. Not yet.

“Why,” Lorcan asks. She sees the way hurt lingers in Elide’s gaze and it threatens to break her.

“Because I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” Elide says. “You’ve been ignoring me this entire night and now you want to hook up in the closet without saying a word?” The smaller girl pushes Lorcan’s shoulders and she backs away. “Why are you so upset with me? Did I… did I do something wrong?”

Lorcan shakes her head, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Lee.”

“Ok, well, then why are you being like this? I don’t get it. I thought we were ok.”

“We were! We are, it’s- fuck, I want more, Elide,” Lorcan confesses, her eyes searching Elide’s. “I want more than closets and climbing out of your window! I want to be able to tell people how crazy I am about you. If,” she breathes in deeply, trying to order her thoughts, “if that isn’t what you want, I can… I can live with that. But I want more.” I need more.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Elide asks, her face almost crumpling.

“Whaddya mean,” Lorcan asks, blinking hard to focus her eyes.

Elide chuckles quietly and reaches out. She toys with Lorcan’s hands, “What if I wanted more too? What if…” she trails off and looks up through her lashes, “it isn’t enough for me either?”

“It isn’t?”

“Gods, no,” she says, pressing herself closer to Lorcan. “Of course it isn’t enough.” Elide shakes her head, “I hate seeing you in public and not being able to do anything. I hate sneaking around. I hate watching you leave. I hate that you never spend the night. I hate it.”

Lorcan kisses her, hard. She threads her fingers through Elide’s hair and pulls Elide against her.

Elide moans softly and slides her hands beneath Lorcan’s shirt.

They quickly lose track of time, desperate to soothe the ache in their chests. Lorcan turns them and effortlessly lifts Elide onto the closet’s shelf. Elide’s arms loop around her shoulders and Lorcan’s hands grip her thighs, keeping them tight around her hips.

Elide’s lips are soft and full against Lorcan’s. She gently parts them and Lorcan licks her tongue over Elide’s, Elide’s delicate whimper muffled by her lips.

Elide rocks her hips closer, making a needy sound in the back of her throat. Lorcan’s blood heats at the sound and she–

“Ok, lovebirds!” Fenrys declares as he sweeps the door open, exposing the two girls, wrapped around each other.

Lorcan frowns and Elide winces at the shaft of light that falls against them. “Fenrys. What the fuck do you want?” Behind him, Lorcan can see the rest of their friends, all curiously peering in.

The grin on Fenrys’ face is so cocky, Lorcan wants to slap it off. “Your seven minutes in heaven were done… ten minutes ago. Hurry it up! This is hot real estate, you know,” he says, referring to the closet.

Lorcan narrows her eyes and turns back to Elide. “Feel like leaving?”

“Very much so,” Elide replies, hopping off of the shelf and taking Lorcan’s hand. They slip out of the closet, grinning unashamedly at their friends. “Ta-ta, my darlings.”

Lorcan doesn’t remember how long it takes them to end up at her house, Elide’s back against her mattress.

Then, after, they lay together, the silver light of the moon slip-sliding over their bare forms. Elide props herself up, her legs still twitching. She leans over and presses her lips to the corner of Lorcan’s collar bone. She trails her kisses down, following the shadows and curves of Lorcan’s body.

Lorcan mumbles something incoherent and blindly reaches for Elide. “Sleep.”

Elide grins and lets herself be pulled into Lorcan’s arms. She fits her face against the crook of Lorcan’s neck and inhales her familiarity, her hand sliding around Lorcan’s hip. “Ok, love.”

<3<3<3

an: hippie!lyria came to me in a moment of pure genius and i am never letting it go. salem mitchell is my face claim for her !!

ive decided to only do fourteen days of femslash february since this is a busy month for me and its just too much <3

@ladyverena @ladywitchling @mythicaitt @sassyhobbits @darklesmylove @julemmaes @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones @highladyofthegentry @darlinminds @nahthanks @sjmships @eyllweambassador @flamingveritas @adelzd-bookblr @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22 @firestarsandseneschals @the-regal-warrior @empress-ofbloodshed

#femslash february #fem!elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #fem!lorcan salvaterre #isa writes lesbian shit #nalgenewhore

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