#nightlight is small and quick making them hard to catch. but watch out if you do manage to catch them! they keep several small knifes on

[sunnyoldbear]

Luca Headcanons Part 3!

I can’t fucking stop please someone help me

Luca:

All seamonsters have a lot of fish qualities and different sea monsters take on different fish qualities, even within a family.

While Luca isn’t as equipped to handle the deep as his uncle is, his father does have some traits that would help him out. Luca doesn’t know this, but he can survive deeper pressure than most others can. Like, significantly deeper, but not to the point of the Deep. He’s have to get accustomed to it and he might not have even survived.

His species can also echolocate! He also doesn’t know he can do this even though it’s from his mom’s side. He just thinks he clicks and squeaks when he’s happy, he doesn’t know he can also echolocate. Since, again, he hasn’t been to the Deep, the ability is very diluted and he can’t locate things very far but… he can, if he tries hard enough. He won’t, though, cause he just thinks his clicks and squeaks are just that.

He loses his shit when he finds out about dinosaurs. He loves them.

If you even mention a museum he will practically beg to go and he will be in there from opening to closing and still come back for more. He takes in every bit of information he possibly can

He doesn’t flip people off, he just sticks his tongue out

Cloud watches! He thinks it’s cute :)

Is cold blooded. They found this out when he passed out in the middle of class one day during the winter. Winter months are very hard for him at school because of it, so he treasures the break and stays under a bunch of warm blankets.

Talks with his hands a lot

One day when he was swimming to the surface after seeing his family, a fisherman who wasn’t too approving of sea monsters tossed their harpoon at him. It grazed his arm and it hurt like hell, but he still tried to hide it. Of course, since he was clutching his arm and there was blood between his fingers, the Marcovaldos panicked and healed him tot he best of their ability, but Luca simply smiled, turned to Alberto, and said “look, we match now!” (If you see Alberto standing beside Luca so that their scarred arms touch since they’re on opposite arms, no you didn’t)

He finds out about bubble wands and thinks they’re the coolest thing!

Avoids every kid named “Bruno” at school like the plague because he doesn’t want them to think he hates them

Whenever something cool happens he instinctively turns to tell Alberto and his face drops when he doesn’t see him

Definitely the kid to accidentally say “mom” (and)or “I love you” to a teacher and then stare in horror

Grabs Alberto’s arm, wrist, or hand when they’re doing something together if he’s not grabbed first just so they don’t lose each other. It’s just instinct.

Once sobbed for an hour because he saw a dead frog in a pool

Falls asleep if his hair is played with

Still gets made fun of for smelling like fish but due to being a fish he can’t really bathe so Giulia and her mom just spray him with perfume. It makes him feel better.

Forgives Guido and Ciccio with no hesitation, will never forgive Ercole. In fact, he’s terrified of Ercole.

Technically canon, but he is the biggest mama’s boy. She learns from her mistakes and fixes her relationship with him and he becomes super close to her

Only lets those close to him call him “Bubble” like his grandma does

Loses his mind when he sees fireflies

He keeps his hair pretty short

Refuses to eat fish

Is more of a prey fish

That being said, he develops a few survival markings, such as a spot on one of his fins to look like eyes

For some reason I feel like he’d be like clownfish and be able to swim through anemone without getting zapped

Was never good at making friends. The Branzino kid often tried to befriend him but he was too scared of disappointing his parents since Daniela and Mrs. Branzino don’t get along

Wears a seashell anklet

His grandma taught him to read secretly when he was little

Never stops talking. Never.

In class, he’s always the kid raising his hand, even if he doesn’t know the answers, just because of his eagerness

Calls Alberto all the time, more than he calls his family

Carries Alberto’s drawing with him everywhere. Used to be in his pockets and then transferred to his wallet.

Is definitely more of a writer than an artist! With his vivid imagination he can write for days, and Alberto is more than happy to draw them out for him

Lets his hair grow out a bit towards the end of his final school year. The stress of school means he doesn’t quite care for his appearance

Can’t sit still. When he’s at school he’s always fiddling with something but when he’s in Portorosso he just grabs Alberto’s hand and plays with his fingers

Definitely a teacher’s pet

Gets bullied a lot. You can’t expect the world to just be okay with sea monsters overnight. A lot of the world will never accept him. There are kids that make his life a living hell at school.

As much as he loves school, he aches to be free sometimes

Gets super flustered super fast

Sits at Alberto’s side and talks about anything and everything and Alberto will sketch it

His scales are more like a duck’s water-resistant feathers. Water rolls right off.

Loves taking Nerone for walks

Definitely wears skirts and dresses in secret! He just thinks they’re neat :)

Loves romance movies but will never admit it

Literally bites his tongue to hold back from rambling. Giulia and Alberto constantly have to tell him it’s okay and he can talk all he wants, but he’s bullied so often for talking too much that he still holds back if he catches himself

Alberto:

Similar to a Betta Fish! His kind of sea monster aren’t known for bonding well and tend to fight.

When healthy, his scales are long and gorgeous just like a Betta’s! (Giulia is mesmerized by them)

You know how dolphins get high with puffer fish? It’s not just dolphins.

His teeth are a little sharper than most other sea monsters. Yes, he bares them at Ercole every time they see each other. No, he won’t stop

Definitely the “he ask for no pickles” friend

No one knows what he’s talking about half the time except for Luca, Giulia, and (sometimes) Massimo. They just kinda go with it.

Has his own words for everything. Only Luca and Giulia know what he means.

He’s actually super, duper close to Giulia, but they do fight pretty often. They’re siblings.

Likes to put his hat on Luca

Everyone thinks he’d be a bad flirt/get flustered super easily but the opposite is true! He’s a big flirt! He just knows what to say to make others fluster around him! Even if he’s not into you, if your his age or he’s trying to charm you, he’ll flirt up a storm. Living on your own from such a young age means you need to pick up survival tactics, and charm and streetsmarts were the ones he picked up.

Sometimes he faces small boats he sees just for the fun of it

He also sometimes grabs a rope or a net from Massimo’s boat when they’re fishing and just zooms to land to get them there quicker

Loves playing games with the kids when he’s on lifeguard duty, even if it can get him in trouble with his boss

You better bet he makes fun of those school uniforms. He laughs his ass off. He thinks they’re the funniest things.

If he sees or hears even a hint of danger, he is shoving his loved ones behind him and will protect them with his life.

Prefers to be barefoot

Heals surprisingly fast. Something about them fish genes.

When he’s fifteen he jokingly tells Luca he should become a teacher and then Luca’s eyes get all big and excited and Alberto regrets opening his mouth. But he still supports him every step of the way.

Whenever he hears Luca click or chirp, he calls out for him if he’s a distance away or grabs his hand since he recognizes it as echolocation before Luca does

More of a predator fish

Keeps his hair long and growing

I think he’d probably grow a mustache. Giulia hates it so much which is why he keeps it. Okay, he kept it to annoy her, but then he actually started to like it. But when Luca said he liked it, that solidified it

He’s so strong it’s kinda scary. Definitely stronger than the average fisherman, but was stronger even beforehand.

Sometimes just eats fish live and terrifies those around him

He’s super fast! Since he’s based on a tuna or swordfish, he’s pretty quick

Unlike Luca, he’s warm blooded. So when he heard Luca has to keep really warm during winters, he offers most of his clothes

His father abandoning him may seem cruel, but for his kind of sea monsters, it was what had to happen. Still, Alberto is a child and it shouldn’t happen.

Mainly a night eater

Can see further than most of his fishy friends

Good night vision too!

Was taught to read and write as a kid by his father but it’s not perfect so he asks Massimo to do it

Loves playing cards

Fins are sharper than average

Squishes Luca’s cheeks

Sword fights with Giulia except they’re sticks

Whenever Luca falls asleep on him (often), he just stays still and refuses to move

Scoops Luca up sometimes

Grabs Luca’s face and blows raspberries instead of kissing it. (Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic!! Italians kiss on cheeks as greetings)

Protectively wraps his tail around those he loves

Water clings to him a bit more since his built-for-speed scales are less water repellent

Every year he gets scared Luca won’t return

Paints the Hideout to look like Luca’s dream fish-stars after he’s told about it. The ceiling, anyway. Don’t ask how he did it, no one knows.

Changes his last name to Marcovaldo

Thinks pet fish and aquariums are hilarious and will poke fun at the fish (“haha, losers! No freedom!” “Alberto!” “What?!”)

LOVES DINOSAURS

He and Luca share a bed when Luca comes over!

The Vespa poster hangs in his room on his door

Calls Luca’s nightlights “light fish” as a nod to stars

Has Giulia and Luca’s names tattooed onto him because they’re his best friends

Tried to take Caligola and Machiavelli on walks… yeah that goes as well as you think

Giulia:

Is a fast reader

Isn’t a massive poetry fan but does have a few favorites

Also keeps a few drawings from Alberto in her folders

Also scoops Luca up randomly

Can and will bite you

Wears dresses as much as she does shorts

Ties her hair up when serious

Rubs her nose against her family’s as a sign of love. It’s just something she did as a kid, so sometimes she’ll just rub her nose against Alberto’s and he gets really confused

Is low key a little jealous of her brother and best friend being sea monsters

Is a bit of a builder! She makes a bridge from her room to the treehouse

Rarely starts fights with Alberto, but she’ll sure finish them

Half regrets teaching Alberto to swear

Though she seems pretty calm, she’s gotten into her fair share of fights at school. Mainly punches kids who bully her and/or Luca. Also sexists.

Although this is 1950/60s Italy, I imagine she’d be very accepting of homosexuality and not hide it, even if rumors of her being one start spreading and she gets hurt. She has a strong sense of justice and she doesn’t care about consequences.

She’s the only person allowed to make fun of Alberto. No one else is. She’ll quite literally attack anyone who dares.

Her parents were surprised she didn’t take after them in fishing or painting

Honestly I can see her mentoring the kids for the race every summer! Once she hits 18 and is no longer able to compete, she holds practice sessions and loves seeing the kids have fun

She definitely runs the race when she’s older. She moves to Portorosso since her marine biology career is helped by her sea monster brother and the town’s closeness to water

Teaches the boys to make sandcastles

Holds such strong resentment for Alberto’s father and Daniela. Lorenzo and Luca’s grandmother she’s fine with, but Alberto’s biological father abandoning him pisses her off more than she can put into words, and Daniela manipulating her son and sending him away makes her want to break something.

Her “santa (cheese)!” comments slowly change into “Santa (fish)!” exclamations. Like, “Santa Goby!” for example. 

Is more close to Alberto than he wants to let people know. She can read him like a book. He’s honestly her best friend. She tells him everything, they go to each other after nightmares, they share everything, all the fun cute stuff that Alberto would rather die than admit.

Still has no idea what “Silenzio Bruno” and “Piacere, girolamo trombetta” mean and at this point she’s too afraid to ask

Though she loves the Portorosso kids, she’d rather die than be a mother. Her parents understand, but secretly hope she changes her mind so they can spoil a grandbaby. 

Begs Massimo to coverup his sea monster tattoo, which he does

Also a “he ask no pickles” friend!

Is super patient with Luca and Alberto’s adaption to the human world (though she doesn’t like it when Alberto shoves his feet on her-which he loves to do because it pisses her off)

Secretly saves money up for the boys to get a Vespa

While she isn’t the best cook, her pasta meals are pretty damn good! 

Has the trophy from the Cup in her room next to a picture of the three of them on the Vespa

#Luca #luca movie #pixar luca #Luca Paguro #Alberto Scorfano #Giulia Marcovaldo #luca headcanons

[fbfh]

glowing - leo x reader

genre: fluffy mutual pining w quick (cute) resolution

word count: 1.6k

au: none??

pairing: Leo x Daughter of Apollo

requested: hell ye!! hope you enjoy it xo 

warnings: none?? yr half sibs n nico are all protective over you but nothing unhealthy lol

summary: You and Leo have been crushing on each other and cockblocked by your siblings for too long, so you decide to take matters into your own hands. 

reccomended songs: sunshine - atlas, musetta’s waltz - moonstruck soundtrack

a/n: not super edited but what’s new lol  i just forgot how to spell edit for a hot second lmao

requests r open babes xo

Between your siblings being ready to maul someone with arrows (and bad music) at a moment’s notice, and Nico - honorary brother and the Apollo cabin’s unofficial bodyguard, dating is… tricky. Even your uncoordinated eight year old half brother Kevin has offered to bang on a guitar and scream, making everyone’s ears bleed. A few weeks ago, an Ares kid made your little sister Sophie cry, and Nico found out. The entire Ares cabin spent two weeks getting all the skeletons out of their closets. Literally. More human bones would appear every time they cleared some out, rattling unsettlingly. People generally don’t mess with you, or other Apollo kids, which you usually don’t mind. You wouldn’t even give it a second thought.

But you did give it a second thought. And a third. And a fourth. And several others. All of them centered around Leo Valdez. You’ve been admiring him from afar for weeks. You didn’t know why his friends were so hard on him at times. You got the vibe that if he started dating someone, his friends would give him the ‘hurt them and we’ll kill you’ speech instead of the other way around. 

At first simply observing was cathartic, seeing him fix swords and laugh with his friends, but as time went on, it just became frustrating. You just want something to happen, you want to make him as happy as he makes you. The most frustrating part was that there had been so many missed opportunities. There was the time two weeks ago when you were flirting after picking up your harp bow from getting a few touch ups, the time after that you two lost track of time and watched the sunset on the docks, and just days ago when you stayed up late talking in Bunker 9 when neither of you could sleep. 

Every single time, one of your siblings either scared him off or dragged you away before you could leave. Most recently, it was Will and Nico. You could swear Nico was muttering to Will, something along the lines of “what is it with that guy and going after my little sisters?”  This wasn’t surprising, since they got together, the whole cabin has made Nico feel really welcome, resulting in him treating you all like sibling-figures. 

You shake your head, trying to focus on the sparring practice that starts in a few minutes. Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter are arranging the first inter-camp capture the flag match, and everyone’s really excited. And training like crazy. If it goes well, it might happen as frequently as once a month, but you have to get through this one, first. Most of the extra time at camp has been spent practicing sparring, battle strategy, and other tactics. Campers were encouraged to watch other fights closely, try to spot defensive weaknesses, and study technique. Right now, Leo and Jason are demonstrating some method of something or other. You’re watching Leo fight, and you’re just… awestruck. You don't even know what to do with yourself. He's agile and light on his feet, and he moves almost like a cat. His muscles flex as he strikes, and your heart lurches. It looks like he's losing. All of a sudden he smirks, and shoots out a blast of flame, sending Jason stumbling back. Campers applaud at the successful win, and he jokingly bows. 

"Thank you, thank you… I'm amazing, I know-" Jason shoves him jokingly, and clears his throat for the crowd's attention, while Leo gets a glass of water. 

"Okay guys, pair up to practice sparring. Don't be afraid to spar with someone new, the more fighting styles you know the better…" you turn towards the water cooler.  Watching him now, you could swear he's all god. He has a gold halo in the late afternoon sunshine, and a drop of water trickles down his face onto his neck. You make a small strangled noise and know this has gone far enough. You need to do something about this crush before it kills you. You walk over to him, and before you can chicken out, ask, “Hey Leo, want to spar?” He almost chokes on his water. He agrees, seeming pleasantly surprised that you asked him. You pull out your harp bow and he pulls out a large, flat hammer. 

‘Good for offense and defense,’ you think, ‘he’s smarter than he looks…’ 

You start off slowly, getting a feel for each other, and your fighting styles. You spar for hours, and end up tied for wins and losing track of time. He gets you off balance with a fancy move, and next thing you know, there’s a nail gun at your neck. 

“I win,” he pants, smirking. Your cheeks flush.

“Can you- show me how to do that?” you say, catching your breath. He agrees, and walks behind you, hands on yours. He shows you how to shift your weight, causing your opponent to lose theirs. His right hand moves to your thigh, readjusting your alignment. 

“...Keeping your center of gravity low,” he breathes, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “so you won’t fall.” Neither of you move away yet. You turn your face towards his, eyes on the ground.

“Can you… show me again…” you breathe. A smile twitches at his lips. He leans in, and-

“Apollo cabin, inspection time!” You jump away from each other.

“All Apollo campers back to cabin seven asap!” you flinch at your brother’s voice, which you know is directed at you. You sigh, turn towards him, and yell back, “I’m coming, just finishing this sparring match!” You see him retreat and turn back to Leo. Before he knows it, you have him pinned to the ground. 

“Gotcha,” you say with a smirk of your own. You lean further down, and whisper, “Meet me at the docks at midnight.” You pull away, and jog off toward your cabin, leaving Leo flustered and excited. 

Later that night when you finally reach the docks, Leo’s already there. “Hi,” he says when he sees you, “I know I’m a little bit early I just… got nervous…” You giggle and reassure him.

“I just hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long,” 

“Don’t worry,” he replies, “it was worth the wait.” You blush. He looks around, and you realize he’s nervous.

“Don’t worry about the cleaning harpies,” you comfort him, “I left them some muddy armor to distract them, we should be good for a while,” you both laugh a little, and you realize he’s staring at you. You look at him inquisitively, a smile playing at your lips and a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“What?”

"You're glowing," he breathes the words softly, amazed by your presence. You look down at your arms, and blush. Your cheeks turn a soft, fluorescent shade of rose. Bioluminescence was a very rare, pretty useless power that some children of Apollo could have. It did, however, allow you to act as a nightlight for your cabin, which everyone (older kids included) enjoyed. No one in your cabin did well in the dark, so everyone slept a little better since you'd been claimed. 

“You are glowing, right? It’s not just me?” he asks, half joking. 

“Yeah, no,” you confirm, snapping out of your thoughts, “that’s a… thing that happens sometimes. It’s saved me a lot of bruised shins in the middle of the night.” As you both laugh, you decide enough is enough. 

“So, I’m taking the fact that you showed up here at all a good sign,” you say, knowing you have to start somewhere, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” Your adrenaline is racing. Your limbs are tingly, and your heart is beating so fast. You know you have his full attention, which makes all of that worse. It’s now or never, you remind yourself, and I’m choosing now.

“I have a huge crush on you.” Visible surprise and excitement is all over his face and body language, and an involuntary smile starts on his mouth. You continue, partially aware that you’re nervous rambling at this point.

“I was hoping you might say it first, but my siblings and Nico are so intimidating and I was like forget that, I’m seizing the day, and…”

“And?” he asks, in a breathless smile.

“And… do you-”

“I like you too. A lot - just ask my friends, I never shut up about you-” You can’t hold back a giggle as you place your hands on his face and pull him in for a kiss. He’s stunned for a second before he kisses you back, gently resting his hands on your arms. You smile into the kiss, which makes him smile, and-

“What the hell, Valdez?!” 

You jump, pulling apart from him. 

“Will! What are you-” before you can finish the thought, darkness pools at his feet and suddenly Nico is standing in front of him. He greets Will with a mushy pet name and leans in to kiss him, but Will stops him before he can and clears his throat. 

“Wha-” Nico turns his head, “...oh…” 

You laugh in disbelief. Mr. High And Mighty was here for the exact same reason you were. You smile fades as you realize that even though you have dirt on him, he still has dirt on you. 

“You know,” you say, reaching for Leo’s hand, “I don’t know if I saw you here, or what…” 

Will wraps an arm around Nico, and starts in the opposite direction. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing you either,” he shrugs.

“Right,” you reply. 

“Right.”

You both drag your respective boyfriends in opposite, more private directions. Suffice it to say, there was a lot more kissing that night - and no more interruptions.

#leo valdez x reader #hoo x reader #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus x reader #Heroes of Olympus

[artificialqueens]

Sunlight Through the Window (Sashea) - Mock-Star

Hi yes I know it’s been months since the AS5 finale but school and the pandemic kicked my ass plus this fic ran off in a different direction than I was planning. Also yes one particular scene may have been written because I’m mad at one of the frats at my school.

Set post Rona, Sasha tries to find a way to congratulate Shea on her win during a group trip.

This is cannon divergent, which means for me and my writing that the show happened but everyone is their drag personas. (so in this case she/her pronouns are used for both of them but the smut is written as MM if that makes since).

(Also for any new writers out there, SAVE EVERYTHING because this is also a frankenfic of 2 different abandoned wips along with the new writing)

Sasha was lounging in the bay window of her room in the rental house responding to a few last business emails when Shea snuck up beside her.

“I think they’re getting ready to start dinner because your help has been requested."

"Ok, I just need to finish this last email and then I’ll be done for the rest of vacation and I’ll come downstairs."

Shea smiled in confirmation, but Sasha could tell she had something else on her mind as she squatted down to hug her.

"Thank you for agreeing to come and room with me. It means a lot to me and I’m so glad to finally get to spend some time with you.”

“Thank you for asking me. I still feel bad that I wasn’t able to celebrate with you when you won last year."

"Baby, that was beyond your control. Miss Rona ruined a lot of plans. And plus you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” Shea kissed her cheek, and Sasha leaned into it.

“For two whole weeks! I can’t believe all of us were actually able to clear out that much room in our schedules!”

“I know! We all definitely need it. I’ll see you downstairs.” Shea said as she stood up and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Sasha hit send on her last email and closed her laptop, then pulled out her phone and went to her messages with Shea.

*“Hey, can I ask you a question?”*

*“Sure. Is everything ok?”*

*“Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Some Chicago queens and I are planning on renting a beach house together now that it’s safe to do so. We need a few more people to get the best deal. Do you want to come with? We’d be sharing a room, but I think others are inviting other New York people.”*

*“Oh my god a beach vacation sounds amazing! Send me some potential dates and prices and I’ll see if I can manage it.”*

*“You’re the best! Sending now!”*

Sasha smiled as the conversation auto refreshed and took her to Shea’s newest message, a close up picture of one of their friends making a silly face. Running footsteps and laughter erupted from downstairs as Shea shrieked at the culprit to give her phone back through laughter.

Later that night, Sasha slipped away to charge her phone, laying down on her bed to send a quick text to a friend. She was more tired than she thought though, because she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, falling asleep in her clothes on top of the covers.

The dull ache of her knees after kneeling on the ground for an extended period of time.

The sharper ache of her jaw after working overtime.

The cramp in her hand after staying in the same position for a while.

The weight of the hard dick in her mouth, pushing dangerously against her gag reflex.

The salty taste of sweat and precum in her throat.

The clammy hands clutching her head.

The rocking of hips.

The whimpers and moans that filled the room .

Her name spilling from stuttering lips.

Nails digging into her scalp.

Eyes flickering up to see her partner losing it.

Eyes meeting, and Shea whispering her name as her crown flickered in the light.

“Sash… fuck babe.”

Sasha woke up with a start when she heard loud banging coming from outside, and she sat up enough to see bright colors peaking through the curtains.

“Fireworks?” She mumbled, trying to make sense of the situation in her groggy state, the details of her dream sticking in her mind.

“Must be the frat a few doors down.” Shea said, and Sasha turned her body enough to see Shea sitting up in the bed next to hers with a book and book light.

“What? How?"

"How do I know that it’s a frat? When those of us who checked us in went to go find main street we saw them in the front yard trying to raise a flag with their letters. I think it said "KA”. Shea answered her question before she could articulate it.

“Kappa…Alpha?"

"I wouldn’t know, either way they might end up catching these hands because they woke you up.” Shea’s answer made Sasha blush slightly, although she was too groggy to articulate why. She reached to adjust her glasses, only to find them missing. She turned towards the bedside table to find them there, next to her phone, still plugged in. It was at this point Sasha realized she was under the covers, tucked in around her legs, still fully dressed.

“It crossed my mind briefly to strip you down to your underwear, but your clothes weren’t visibly dirty, and I didn’t want you to freak out when you woke up.” Shea said, answering her next question. Even though she was tired, her mind latched on to the idea of Shea undressing her and picking her up and tucking her in, and she knew she had to push it out of her mind as she took off her pants under the covers and let them fall to the floor.

“What time is it?” She asked, and Shea reached for her phone to turn it on.

“3am. I’ve been awake since about 2:30 because I had to go to the bathroom and couldn’t go back to sleep.” Shea responded, answering her next question before she could ask it. “I’m going to try and go back to sleep after this chapter, but you should go back to sleep."

"I didn’t mean to actually fall asleep."  She said, head already on the pillow and drifting off.

"It’s ok, you needed it. I worry about you not getting enough sleep sometimes. Rest well Sasha, see you in the morning.” She said something else as well, but Sasha was already too drowsy to hear her. When she woke up in the morning, Shea was still asleep, and seeing her made her remember her dream and the groggy conversation she had with Shea, and a warmth went through her, obsessed with the idea.

Unlike what the fans might have thought (or wished for), there was no “winners orgy”, although it did sound fun-ish. Possibly even more shocking, she and Shea had never done anything more than kiss in the brief down moments during shows, soft enough so as to not mess up their makeup, more friendly and good luck wishes than anything. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to explore their mutual attraction, it was that it was never convenient. They certainly weren’t allowed during filming, and they rarely had time alone together without duties or other people in the way, if they were even in the same state. The attraction never went away though, so it didn’t surprise Sasha when a innocent enough cheek kiss lounging by the pool turned into a make out session in the bay window of their shared room the next night, the music and laughter of their fellow houseguests seeming both far away and too close for comfort.

Shea’s kisses were addictive, and with the red wine warmth running through her veins and the heat of the setting sun on her skin, Sasha was utterly seduced. A soft groan escaped despite her efforts to swallow it, and Shea chuckled, catching her off guard when the air tickled her lips. Shea slowly shifted both of them so that Sasha was on her back and Shea was kneeling above her, still kissing her the entire time while Sasha held on to  Shea’s shirt. She suddenly broke away, and Sasha pouted until Shea’s lips found her neck. Shea clearly had a plan in mind, and Sasha felt her hands slip underneath her shirt, which had already ridden up and exposed a small section of her stomach. Shea ducked down and pressed featherlight kisses against the exposed skin, rubbing Sasha’s sides with her thumbs, and she could have melted. Her face was flushed red, and she blinked away the tears that threatened to spill. It always surprised her how tenderly Shea treated her during those rare moments of intimacy. Those tight hugs that felt more protective and adoring than restrictive, always interrupted by other people or pressing duties. But this time, there was nothing to interrupt them. Even as Shea moved back up to her lips, the question hung in the air, and when Shea broke away to ask it out loud, her yes came instantly and easily. Shea picked her up and walked to the closest bed, making it to the end of the bed before lowering her onto it.

Her thighs were pressed into her stomach as the warmth of the dusk sun warmed her face almost uncomfortably. Attempts to touch herself were taken over by Shea after she observed Sasha’s movements to mimic them. The intimacy was overwhelming, and after the passion, the tears finally came, after Shea had rejoined her and laid down beside her. She rarely cried after sex, but the tears didn’t stop, silently streaking her face, cooling her flushed skin. She didn’t know if it was because of the sexual tension finally being resolved, because it had been so long since she last got laid, or simply her body trying to regulate itself, but Shea seemed to understand regardless, rubbing Sasha’s head as ot  blissfully watched the sky finally go black.

The next morning, Sasha rolled out of bed, shivered, pulled on the closest shirt she found, and groggily stumbled to the bathroom, thankfully for the small nightlight that meant she didn’t have to turn on the actual lights. As she was washing her hands, she looked up at the mirror to check her reflection, and she gasped. In the low visibility of the bedroom, she had grabbed Shea’s shirt by mistake. For some reason, it seemed large on her even though they were roughly the same size, and she was trying to think of why Shea’s shirt would be on the ground near her bed before she remembered. She moved the collar of the shirt over a few inches to reveal the mouth-shaped bruise that had blossomed overnight. She peeked out the door to see that the sheets on the bed closest to the window, her bed, were suspiciously rumpled up, even hours later. The bed closest to the door had the sheets pulled back on one side, and Shea asleep on the other.

She pressed on the bruise on her neck with her thumb, and the ache that left it made her aware of all the aches in her body, ones that were clearly post-sex aches.

Post-sex.

“*Shea and I fucked last night. I wanted to. I enjoyed myself. I want to have sex with her again*"

The realization was not a hard one. But the thought was an epiphany nonetheless, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her, almost laughing as she leaned against the wall and soaked everything in.

She crept out of the bathroom, trying not to wake Shea up, but she seemed to be expecting her, turning towards her and slowly blinking, as if trying to adjust to the growing morning light coming from the window.

"Mornin’ cutie.” She whispered, biting her lip while Sasha awkwardly apologized for waking her up, but Shea chose to ignore it.

“I love the way you look in my clothes.” Shea cooed, and Sasha felt her cheeks go hot as Shea made no effort to hide her eyes trailing up and down Sasha’s body.

“What, no but?"

"Yours"

"Ok yeah I walked into that one.” Sasha chuckled, climbing back into bed next to Shea and letting her take the shirt back off and toss it on the ground when she asked. They stayed in bed until they heard others downstairs cooking breakfast, cuddling and kissing, Sasha blushing when Shea rolled her onto her back and kissed her from her shoulders to just above her groin before she let Sasha get up.

Sasha never thought she had a particularly high sex drive, but over the next few days, it was if a wildfire was inside her. No matter how long she and Shea spent in their room together, she was never satiated. Their bodies were like magnets, pulling together, desperately wanting to make up time. Their housemates only chuckled when they went into their room together. Admittedly, they did turn in earlier than everyone else more than one night, which they brushed off on being tired, which no one bought.

As the first week progressed, conversations turned towards Shea’s win multiple times, and each time, someone joked with Sasha about “congratulating” Shea, which was always met with laughter and Shea telling the person to “fuck off” while laughing herself. Sasha laughed too, but every time someone made the joke, the dream she had the first night played in her head, and she ached with the thought of kneeling in front of Shea, taking control of her pleasure.

Towards the end of the week, Sasha walked into the room to the sound of running water, Shea was taking a shower and had left the door open, something the both of them had gotten into the habit of doing so the other could get ready or use the restroom at the same time. The thought of getting in the shower with Shea entered Sasha’s mind, and she impulsively stripped down and slipped into the shower. She wasn’t entirely sure what her plan was, but all she could think about was her dream and making it come true. Shea turned towards her with a surprised look that quickly turned into a smile.

“Hey baby.” She cooed as she pulled Sasha closer to let the water douse her before Sasha could move closer herself. She wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed her ass. Her charm was on 100, and Sasha almost forgot why she was in there in the first place. Pulling away slightly, she sank to her knees in front of her. She batted her eyes and bit her lip while she rubbed Shea’s legs up and down. Shea’s eyes went from confused and worried to recognition, and she smiled.

“Oh, that’s what you want, huh?” Sasha nodded, and Shea gently cupped her chin and tilted her head up more.

“Let’s go on the bed, okay baby? It’ll be more comfortable for both of us.” Sasha nodded, standing up and moving to get out, but Shea grabbed her arm.

“In a little bit…” she purred, pulling Sasha back towards her and gently pressing their lips together, finding Sasha’s ass again. Sasha could taste the booze on Shea’s lips and sense her exhilaration. She could feel a newly familiar warmth beginning to pool in her stomach, but she forced herself to ignore it, wanting tonight to be about Shea.

She began rubbing Shea’s sides in an attempt to be seductive. Shea gently nipped at her bottom lip, which Sasha took as approval.

“I’m still topping.” Shea mumbled. “Nice try though.”

Sasha choked, and Shea pulled away just enough to smirk at her as she patted her back to help her clear it.

“You ain’t slick, baby. You’ve never tried to take charge like this before. It’s super cute to see you try though.”

“I’m not trying to be cute.” She pouted slightly, trying to figure out how to vocalize the fact that it hadn’t even been a full week.

“But you are cute. You’re always cute. And sexy. ” Shea whispered, and Sasha’s face went hot as Shea’s fingers slipped between her ass cheeks and circled her hole, something Shea quickly learned would help her muscles relax. Her mind flashed to their first time, with images of the bedspread and distant and slightly muffled whispers of Shea dirty talking, and her legs twitched. Shea smirked before pulling away.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.”

She opened the curtain and went out before Sasha could say something, coming back a few moments later with a bottle that was instantly recognizable. She pulled Sasha closer with one hand and asked her for consent before turning her around, pressing her front against the wall and working her open with her fingers. Shea bent down to kiss her shoulders, she was clearly using what she knew to make Sasha putty in her hands, and it was working. She threw her head back onto Shea’s shoulder, and Shea kissed her cheek.

“Could, Could we go to bed now?” She gasped, and Shea let out an amused breath.

“Sure baby, as soon as we rinse off.”

Sasha was so antsy, the few minutes it took to finish up in the shower felt like an hour. Shea could definitely tell, and Sasha knew that she reveled in holding Sasha up in the shower, stepping out first and handing her a towel, drying herself off languidly. After Shea hung her towel back up, Sasha grabbed her hand and led her to the bed, waiting until Shea sat up against the headboard before crossing over to her suitcase and pulling out a felt crown, long forgotten from filming. She kept her back towards Shea as she put it together, and tried to decide what to say next.

“You know, I never got to congratulate you properly on your win.” She said as she turned around, trying her absolute hardest to sound seductive. Shea’s eyes got wide, and Sasha felt a little twinge of pride.  

"You were planning this all along."

"Actually I wasn’t. I haven’t used this suitcase since filming. But I say it worked out well. My queen.” She whispered as she neared the bed and placed it on her head. “It’s not as pretty as your actual crown, but it will do.” Sasha cooed as she settled in between Shea’s legs, grabbing her thighs and adjusting them to rest on her shoulders. Shea reached out and cupped Sasha’s face, stroking her cheek with her thumb.

“The others didn’t put you up to this, did they? You texted me when the episode aired, that’s more than enough for me.” Shea asked, and Sasha could tell she was genuinely concerned.

“Shea, my love, I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a while, I promise. I want this if you want it too.”

Shea’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and she nodded, letting go of Sasha’s face.

“Are you ready, my queen?"

"Drop the queen stuff Sash, but yes. I’m ready."

Sasha purred, resisting the urge to say "my queen” again. She leaned in and pressed kisses against Shea’s length, warming both of them up before suckling at her tip, then taking her in her mouth.

She always went into a trance of sorts when she went down onto someone, losing track of time, focused on their pleasure alone. Licking up and down the shaft, gently sucking the balls, taking as much as she could as deep as she could. Sasha knew how to give a blow job, and she felt she did it well. Tonight though, she felt distracted. Shea’s gasps and moans echoed through her head, and all she could think about was Shea’s whispered teases in the shower. She tried to refocus herself on her task by peeking up at Shea, but she ended up gagging accidentally, and Shea immediately popped up.

“Easy baby, don’t choke yourself for my sake.” She cooed as she caressed Sasha’s face and grabbed the base of her own dick, preventing Sasha from going down that far. Shea leaned back onto the bed to allow Sasha to continue, her moans turning into breathy praises and compliments that turned Sasha’s face redder than it already was.

“Oh fuck yeah Sash”

“Your lips are heavenly oh my god.”

“Look at your pretty little ass, You’re so fucking hot and you’re the one sucking me off oh my god.”

Sasha was attempting to tune her out to no avail, she could hear and understand every word that came out of Shea’s mouth, and Shea knew that, spilling out the compliments and dirty talk until her voice changed and she said something that made Sasha pull off of her and push herself onto her elbows.

“..What?” she croaked out, her overworked mouth struggling to form words, knowing full well what was said. Shea reached out and caressed her face again, eyes dark with desire.

“Sit on my face. Please”

Sasha nodded shakily as she turned around so she was straddling Shea’s torso, and her ass was near Shea’s face. She reached out to continue when Shea grabbed her hips and yanked her upwards.

“Turn around and grab onto the headboard.” Shea growled, and Sasha obeyed, a bit shell shocked. She felt Shea shift down, and she put her knees on either side of her head. Shea grabbed her hips again and maneuvered her where she wanted her, growling in satisfaction before diving in, licking circles and lines, gripping her hips tighter before inserting her tongue into her, moving with Sasha when she instinctively jolted up and guiding her back down as she relaxed.

There was a million things bouncing around Sasha’s brain, words that would form but then get stuck, leaving her mouth as incoherent moans and groans. But Sasha thought Shea would almost appreciate that more. She rested her head on her hands as she moaned, relaxing her body, letting sensation fully wash over her. She felt Shea’s hands travel up her body, to her ribs and and chest, briefly rubbing her nipples before trailing her hands back down as a wave of electricity went through Sasha’s body, sending her up again with a hiss and guiding her back down with trembling hips, her thighs beginning to reflexively squeeze Shea’s head slightly, with every attempt to make it stop making it worse.

Suddenly, Shea stopped, pushing her up gently so she could slide out from beneath her, sitting up and hugging Sasha from behind as she hung onto the headboard still, her fingers unable to move.

“Are you ok to go further Babydoll?” Shea whispered, and Sasha nodded, letting go of the headboard and twisting around to hold onto Shea, who picked her up and sat her back down on the edge of the bed on her back, putting the felt crown back on when Sasha grabbed it and held it out to her as she stood up, her legs trembling a bit as well as she put on a condom, offering her a drink from a glass of water on the bedside table before taking a drink herself, then guiding Sasha down onto her back as she swished the water in her mouth.

Shea held on to her hips and then slid up to her thighs, holding her legs in place and adjusting them so she could have access to all of her. Shea gazed at her for a moment before grabbing a pillow and putting it underneath her, raising her hips up a little, and Sasha felt something deep in her stomach, something warm and desperate.

“You ready?” Shea asked, and Sasha nodded.

“I need you to say yes or no, love."

"Yes.” Sasha whispered, and she watched Shea’s eyes darken with intense focus as she started thrusting, holding Sasha’s hips still as she tried to bounce with her, grabbing her hand and placing it near her crotch, indicating she wanted Sasha to stroke herself.

Within 30 seconds, the felt crown had fallen off Shea’s head onto Sasha’s chest, and Shea brushed away from her reach before Sasha could hand it back to her, and Sasha turned to watch it fall off the bed.

“Hey, I need to see your face. You don’t have to look me in the eyes, but I need to be able to gauge your comfort, ok?” Shea asked, gently turning Sasha’s head back to face her, and Sasha nodded and whispered something resembling an acknowledgment and an apology, which Shea responded to by letting go of her chin, rubbing her head soothingly, and then straightening back up and resuming, continually adjusting Sasha’s hips. Sasha only figured out what she was trying to do moments before she was successful, practically slamming her head into the bed when Shea found her g-spot. Shea rocked against it for a bit, looking absolutely entranced as Sasha’s legs trembled against her shoulders and the rest of her body writhed, smoothly moving back into her previous rhythm when it became clear Sasha would finish too quickly otherwise. Shea clearly wanted to make sex last as long as possible, frequently switching up the length and the speed of her thrusts, gazing at Sasha to see if she liked it, changing it up if she needed to. And it did last a while before Shea’s hips became less forceful and Sasha could tell

she was painfully close, maybe even attempting to hold herself back from orgasm. But any potential attempts were to no avail, as Shea knelt down on the bed and leaned in for a kiss before her body tightened and released with a groan, and Sasha could feel her shaking inside of her, but it wasn’t enough to bring her to her own orgasm, even as she kept on stroking herself.

Shea slowly blinked as her head cleared, making hazy eye contact with Sasha and softly smiling before running her eyes down the rest of her body and seeing that Sasha was nowhere close to finishing. Her eyes lit up, and before Sasha knew it, Shea had scooted her into the middle of the bed and crawled between her legs, groaning in anticipation.

She looked up at Sasha and batted her eyes, waiting for her to nod and whisper breathlessly before ducking down and gently sucking on one of her balls. Sasha’s reaction was immediate, she squirmed and gasped out. That was something else Shea learned early on, she seemed to know exactly what Sasha liked before she could tell her. Shea knew Sasha so well, and so it would make sense that her body was no exception. It also made sense that it barely took any time at all once Shea started sucking for Sasha to finish, Shea’s name on her lips as her thighs shook around Shea’s head.

Next thing Sasha knew, Shea was straddling her and kissing her, stroking her cheek and whatever piece of skin was closest, entangling the two of them into a cage of limbs, which is where they stayed for as long as they could, until Sasha had to get up and excuse herself to the bathroom. When she walked back out, Shea had switched beds, and Sasha had a bit of a deja vu moment to a few days ago, only instead of Shea being asleep, she was sitting up and smiling at her, motioning for her to join her. She strided over to the bed and got under the covers with Shea and went into her arms the moment they were held out, resting her head on her chest and nuzzling into her, thinking about nothing besides the current moment and all the moments before.

Soon enough she would deal with the dread of leaving Shea and this place, separated by miles, cities, and schedules, she wanted to savor every second she could without it being tainted by anxiety.

“I love you.” Shea whispered, “I love you so fucking much.”

Sasha barely heard her, and she sensed it wasn’t for her as much as it was for Shea to say it out loud, so she nuzzled Shea’s chest and ran her hand across her torso, mundane enough to be coincidental, but hopefully acknowledging and reciprocating enough for Shea to understand.

Downstairs, one of their friends called out, asking about a trip to a ice cream parlor, and Sasha and Shea looked at each other and held each other for a few more seconds before getting up and getting dressed, Shea leaving first with one last kiss so as to not seem suspicious, even though no one would buy it. Sasha looked out the window one last time at the sunset as she grabbed her bag, then went out the door, ready for whatever adventure was next.

#rpdr fanfiction #sasha velour #shea coulee #sashea #mock star #canon compliant #smut #fluff #s9 #as5

[watchmegetobsessed]

Enchanted - Adam Sackler (pt. 1)

well well well, look who’s back with a new sackler fic! i honestly don’t know where this is gonna head, im figuring it out as im writing so im not that ahead of you lmao but i’ve been thinking about this concept for a while now so let’s see how it will turn out!

series summary: You are casted as Giselle in the Broadway adaptation of Enchanted with Adam as Robert.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

Chapter title: The man

If you had to imagine what a surgeon is feeling right before a super important operation, you’d compare the feeling to the one you always get at auditions without hesitation. The nerves are stretching to the maximum, some can’t even take it, some have odd coping mechanism, the air is thick with tension and rivalry and all eyes are looking for weak points in others. It’s a mixture of feelings that crawls up on your spine every time you wait for your name to be called and find out whether or not you were good enough to make the cut.

This time is no different as you sit in a now emptied out room that was once full of ambitious girls, all of them longing after the exact same thing, a role that would change their lives, but now it’s just the five of you. You see the similarities between yourself and the girls, you are all slim figured and judging from what you’ve seen all of you have some kind of dancer background, especially number three who is eyeing you now with a hard stare, probably deep in her thoughts what would make you better than her while you do the same. You would swear your life she used to be a ballet dancer, it’s radiating from the way she sits and walks, you can just tell it.

It’s way past ten pm and all of you have been here for the whole day, fighting your way through three rounds of audition, each of them testing something different. Singing, dancing and acting, the three compulsory things that need to be perfected if someone wants the role of Giselle, especially since the shoes you’d be putting on with this role are pretty high-end, given the fact that the first and only person to bring life to the character was Amy Adams and she made quite the impression on millions of people all around the world on the big screen when the movie came out.

Looking down at your hands you notice how they are shaking once again and you quickly hide them between your thighs not to show weakness. You can’t let them see how nerve-wrecking this is for you, that’s just not professional, not what you want to project to the world.

Then the door to the auditorium where you had to perform three times today opens and all five of you rise to your feet when the four people who have been judging you all day appear with the piece of paper that contains the results you’ve been waiting all week to know.

“Thank you for your patience, it’s been a very hard decision to make,” Petra, the production assistant speaks up with a warm smile as she looks around. “We wanted to make sure the best person will stand on the stage of Broadway when the curtains open very soon and we were convinced that all of you would be worthy of the role of Giselle.”

You catch a few confused and anxious looks around, and you can almost hear the questions popping up in the minds: so how did they decide?

“But we’ve made a decision, and we would like to thank to everyone for the hard work you put into today.”

Your heart is up in your throat, each beat feels like it pushes the top of your head as you stare at the paper, visioning your name written on it as the chosen one. Petra exchanges a knowing look with the three men, the choreographer Matt, the director Trevor and Lee, the dramaturge before she turns back to us and the final name rolls down her tongue, leaving those perfectly red lips that never stopped smiling all day.

“Y/N, we would like to welcome you to the production of Enchanted on Broadway.”

You gasp and you freeze as your own name rings in your ears and envious stares turn to you from all around the room while you are just standing there, completely shocked that you actually got the part, as if you haven’t been telling yourself it’s going to happen in the past weeks.

“Thank you for everyone, we hope to see you maybe at another audition, because you all have great potential. Y/N, please stay for a little longer so we can discuss the further steps.

You’re going on Broadway, it is finally happening. You’ll be standing on the stage you’ve been dreaming of since you were a little girl, the applause will be yours (partly) every night before the curtains close. You can’t stop thinking about it all through the next about thirty minutes as you discuss every crucial information with Petra, she hands you a schedule and makes you sign some paperwork that already has your name on them. You try to remember everything and when you give them every contact info that’s needed you finally head home.

You can’t help but feel silly when arriving back to your small apartment you put on the movie and watch as Amy Adams sings warmly on the screen with a skeptical Patrick Dempsey and as you hum to the music already knowing most of the songs you wonder who will be your Robert Philip. Petra said the auditions will end this week and you’ll have a table reading on Monday where you’ll be able to meet all the people who will basically be your family for the upcoming months during the rehearsals and once the show opens.

It’s past one am when you finally turn your laptop off putting it away and as you creep your way to your window the nightlights of the city light up your face. Climbing out to the fire escape you listen to the chaotic sounds of the city that never sleeps, watching a group of friends cross the street, spraying champagne to the asphalt, laughing their way into the night. Normally you would find them annoying, but not tonight. You wish them a great night as you dream about a glass of the sparkly beverage in your hand, drinking to your big achievement. Your eyes travel up to the gloomy sky and you let out a wondering sigh, the thought of change embracing your hopes and dreams.

 ***

 “Okay, big smile!”

You flash your widest smile into the camera Lora is holding up in front of you, holding the coffee she just bought you in your hands.

“Amazing, I feel like a mother who is taking her daughter to the school for the first time,” she jokes putting her phone away as the two of you start walking. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks. I’m really excited,” you smile shyly. First day nerves are bringing the best out of you, it’s been a hard task to get some sleep last night and you only managed to rest for a couple of hours, but the excitement is definitely keeping you awake. Today is your first official day at a Broadway production in a leading role, this is a day you will never forget probably.

“You’ll be amazing and when you are finally famous, we can sell your stuff on ebay and get rich!” she cheers making you laugh. She always sees the most important things in situations.

“Great plan.” Checking the time you see that you really should get going if you don’t want to be late for the reading. “I’ll see you tonight?” you ask her stopping at the entrance of the subway.

“Sure, I’ll swing by around nine,” she nods giving you a quick hug. “Break a leg!” she calls after you as you wave while running down the stairs.

You’re not unfamiliar with the world of theater, but every theater is different and you can never know what to expect behind the scenes. It’s a whole new world on the other side of the curtains and as you walk into the building you feel like a wandering child, soaking in every little detail you see, even though it’s not even that extra like you had imagined.

Arriving to the meeting room you are fifteen minutes early, leaving only just a few people there, the long table with chairs all around it, name cards at each seat is set with water bottles and fresh fruits in bowls, a copy of the script is neatly placed at each seat.

“Y/N! Hi! How are you?” Petra welcomes you rushing over to you with that warm smile of hers, wearing an orange colored flowy dress that goes great with her dark brown locks.

“A little nervous but excited,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be nervous, we are all family now here. Come on, let me introduce you around.”

You meet some of the dancers and background actors, Trevor who you have already met at the audition and Petra also introduces you to the Misha, the costume designer who even shows you some of her sketches for the dresses you’ll be wearing on stage and they all look stunning, like a piece of art each.

You find your name at the table and put your coat to the back of the chair, running your fingers over the cover of the script with a small smile playing on your lips and pulling your phone out you shoot a quick photo of the script and your name tag before checking the names around you.

Right next to you is the one you’ve been most curious about, the name Robert Philip written in small under the name of the real person behind the character: Adam Sackler.

“I think you two will get along well,” Petra smiles at you from the other side of the table, seeing you eye the name tag. “He is—oh, he is here!” she declares, head turning to the door and she is already rushing to welcome the tall man who just walked in.

Adam Sackler is quite a man at first sight. His tall figure, broad shoulders and hair dark as the night make him appear a little dour and stern, but the smile he gives to Petra upon seeing her definitely gives his features a soft touch of warmth. He wraps an arm around her shoulders as they exchange a few words you can’t hear from this far, and you seem to be lost in the appearance of the man you’ll fall for on the stage, but you are brought back to reality when his eyes lock with yours and you notice Petra is turned to you as well. You clear your throat, feeling like a kid that’s been caught doing something naughty when you were just looking at him.

The two of them head in your way and you get yourself ready to meet the man, feeling his eyes intensely burning down at you the whole time he strides over to his seat next to you, Petra walking right beside him.

“Y/N, this is Adam. Adam, meet your Giselle, Y/N,” she smiles and when your eyes meet his again you feel his gaze in your guts. He is the definition of intimidating, expressions unreadable paired with a physique that can’t stay unrecognized.

A large hand extends in front of you, and as your palm touches his, you can’t help but notice the size difference.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” he beams, a tiny smile playing on his full lips, the lips you’ll be kissing soon.

Damn it, get your shit together! You tell yourself as you nod at him in a friendly manner.

“You too, Adam.”

Your hopes of Petra easing the nerves you are feeling from this first meeting quickly disappear when more and more people start to arrive and she leaves the two of you alone.

As your hands let go of each other you still feel the warm touch of his hand linger on your skin, both of you turning to your seats.

“So, have been on Broadway before?” he asks, glancing at your shortly as the two of you sit and he starts flipping through the script.

“No, I’m totally a newcomer. Have you been?”

“Yeah, just once a while back.”

“Any advice to be taken?” you smile at him laying your palms out on the table. He thinks to himself for a moment before turning to you.

“Leave reality behind,” he answers with a smile that seems to be hiding tens of feelings and thoughts, maybe a few stories that you are now dying to hear. Adam Sackler is definitely the person you feel drawn to in many ways and as you turn your attention towards the script, aimlessly flipping through the pages you wonder how many sides of him you will get to know by the time the lights go up on the stage for the first time.

 ***

 The reading wouldn’t take more than about two hours at most, but with so many people and even more jokes to make it’s hard to stick to the schedule. There is always just something to add, change, comment on and this is what brings the whole team together. By the time the last words of the last page are said out loud, you feel like part of the bigger whole and the nervousness long gone, replaced by true excitement and anticipation to see what’s next.

���Thank you everyone, I think we can all agree this show is going to be magical,” Trevor, the director speaks up when the reading is over and everyone nods in agreement. “First rehearsals on the stage are expected to start in two weeks, I would like to kindly ask everyone to respect the schedule and the time of others. A list of contacts will be emailed to everyone by the end of the day,” he notes before discharging everyone.

You’re soon pulled into a discussion with Clyde, aka Prince Edward and Misha, talking about preferences for the costumes in the field of comfort and practicality, but you find yourself scanning the room for one particular tall figure.

Adam is standing a couple of feet away from you, talking to a blonde woman who has her hands on the shoulders of Janelle, the girl who’ll be playing Adam’s stage daughter, an adorable little sunshine from what you’ve seen from her in the past few hours, very focused and hardworking, she didn’t have one bad word during the whole thing and read her lines perfectly.

“He is quite the sight, huh?”

Misha’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you haven’t even noticed that Clyde was already gone. Standing next to you, she crosses her arms on her chest, eyes glued to the man in word.

“He has a great presence on the stage I heard.”

“He does?” you ask glancing at her. She nods, tugging her bright red hair behind her ears, a cheeky smile playing on her lips.

“I mean, he has one in real life too, but the way he appears up there, it’s worth a prayer,” she chuckles. “Good luck with not falling for him.”

“I’ll stay professional,” you sternly state, pushing that little voice in the back of your mind that’s doubting your words.

“Professionalism is the first thing you lose when you find yourself in the arms of such a man,” she smirks at you before walking away, leaving you with a whirl of thoughts circling around what she just said.

Checking your schedule you see that though you’ll be pretty busy from now on, your days filled with singing lessons and dance practices, many of them are solo appointments, but your eyes spot all the times when Adam’s name is written besides yours and you have one almost every day.

Glancing in his way one last time your eyes meet his stare, a small smile playing on his lips that you return before grabbing your stuff and leaving.

 ***

 “Okay, wow,” Lora gasps as the picture of Adam appears on her computer, it’s from about a year ago, portraying him with slicked back hair wearing a long trench coat as he stares back at a guy intensely on the stage. You sip from your wine as Lora takes a good look at him.

“Yeah.”

“How tall are you compared to him?”

“My forehead is at his mouth, more or less,” you say recalling how tall he looked standing right in front of you.

“That’s a nice height difference, like, you’ll have to tiptoe to kiss him, it’s cute,” she grins at you and the thought of kissing him send a shiver down your spine. You’ve been thinking about that a lot since you’ve left the table reading, the memory of his eyes on you and the words of Misha haunting you relentlessly.

“What’s that look?”

“What look?” you ask quickly straightening your expression, taking another sip of the wine.

“Oh I know this look, the guy is already messing with your head!”

“He is not,” you shake your head, but you can’t fool your best friend.

“Oh hell yes. I don’t blame you, he looks fine.”

Turning back to the computer she starts typing, digging deeper on the internet trying to find more about him as you lean your back against the headboard, hugging a pillow to your chest. You really can’t have yourself fall this easily for a man who you’ll be working with so closely. Adam seems nice and everything you’ve heard about him is quite impressing, but you don’t know what kind of man he really is. For all you know he can be the biggest jerk in all of New York City.

“Oh my God! Look at this!” you hear Lora gasp as she leans closer to the screen. Sitting up you wonder what she found and looking at the tab that’s open there is a short film playing.

Well, it’s not the type you were expecting, because right on the screen in front of you, there is Adam’s broad back in a light colored shirt, his hair a little longer than it is now and he is… fully spanking a girl bent over a work bench, wearing only a white tank top. Your mouth hangs open as the scene carries on in front of you, the girl or more like woman grunts with each hit on her lower half begging for him to go harder as Adam calls her a slut and a whore, making it probably the most disturbing cinematic thing you’ve seen that’s not officially considered as porn.

“I’m speechless,” Lora lets out an airy chuckle as the scene soon ends with the woman jumping into his arms and you realize she is not even wearing any underwear.

“What… was that?” you whisper with wide eyes. Lora types in a few things before she can answer that question.

“It’s a short film he did last year with someone named Jessa Johnson, it was a private project. It says the story is based on events from his own life.”

“So you are saying at one point he spanked some girl he was dating and then he decided to make a movie out of it?” you grimace in confusion. This is definitely not something that you would have ever thought of him.

“Oh, and the juiciest of all is that this Jessa girl was his girlfriend,” she continues reading about the film. “This article came out six months ago, they were together then. It adapts the happenings of his private life, how he dated the best friend of his ex-girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s pretty fucked up, don’t you think?”

“Depends,” she shrugs as she keeps scrolling. “But this film is definitely a nasty one.”

“I can only imagine what else is in it,” you mumble finishing off your wine and reaching for the bottle you pour yourself some more.

“Wanna figure it out?” she grins and you shake your head no immediately.

“I don’t need inappropriate images in my mind when I’ll be stuck with him at rehearsals.”

Knowing how your conscious works you just can’t take the risk. If he appears in more inappropriate scenes in the film, you bet your life that you wouldn’t make yourself think of anything else when you look at him the next time. The spanking is already more than you would bear with.

“I wonder what else there is about him that we don’t know of,” Lora narrows her eyes staring into the distance.

Adam Sackler has given you way more to think about than you would have ever expected from someone and you haven’t even talked to him that much. His appearance, his words to you and the things the internet is holding about him, it all shows a different person and you can’t decide which one is the real side of him or where he stands if it’s a mixture. You wish you could just ask him all the questions you have about him and get your answers without being judged or have them held against you, but you are left with silent suffering and slow observation until you finally figure this handsome looking mysterious man you’ll be forced to cross paths every day.

-

general/forever taglist for Adam Driver

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Adam taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Adam fics!

@superdriver​ @siren-queen03​ @holacherrycola90​ @spencer-is-amazing​ @unusual-kindred-spirits @hailthemightywoecloud @holy-kylo-stars​ @kowalskibro-adamdriverblog​ @hurricanesunset​ @writerandee​ @luxury-0pps​ @prncess91​ @malefoygal​ @zaahidahhh​ @filternotincluded @fire-in-her-veinz​ @emily-strange​ @ktellmeastory​

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!

#adam driver #adam driver imagine #adam driver fanfiction #adam sackler #adam sackler imagine #adam sackler imagines #adam sackler fanfiction #adam sackler fanfic #adam sackler x you #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler x y/n #hbo girls

[settersprouts]

꠵ look at me : chapter two ꠵

裏切り。

Iwaizumi flopped onto his bed as soon as he got home, turning over and looking at the ceiling. His family kept bothering him about the match, saying things like "oh, you did great son!" or "it's okay. it's not the end of the world!"

Yeah, sure it wasn't. But it was the end of his and Oikawa's shared dream.

Iwaizumi glanced at the little glow-in-the-dark stars stuck onto his ceiling. He remembered how he got those. Oikawa had put them up when they were younger, since he was afraid of the dark and the nightlight Iwaizumi used to use was way too bright for either of them to sleep. He probably should've taken them down when they didn't really need them anymore, but they meant something to Oikawa back then. Those little stars were one of the many souvenirs Iwaizumi had of his best friend. It was like proof that he was close with the Oikawa Toorū.

. . And Iwaizumi really couldn't take them down. It was physically impossible: the adhesive stuck to the back of the stars were too strong, and no matter how hard Iwaizumi pulled, the damn stars wouldn't come off.

Beep.

Iwaizumi turned to his side, getting his phone from off the nightstand.

New Message : ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽

"Damn, what the hell does this bastard want now?" Iwaizumi clicked on the notification, bringing up the messages between him and Oikawa.

. .

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: iwa-chan !

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: What now, I just saw you like 20 minutes ago

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: ughh iwa you're so mean

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Yeah okay. What?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: can i come over ?

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Ew no, wtf?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: iwaaaaaaaaaaa~ (｡•́︿•̀｡)

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Why?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: im just having trouble sleeping,, plus i just wanna be with you rn

. .

Iwaizumi blushed at the last text Oikawa had sent. Damn.. As much as I despise him and his stupid face, that was kind of cute. Realizing what kind of thoughts were popping up in his head, Iwaizumi smacked both sides of his face. Fuck. What the hell am I thinking?

. .

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: iwa? you there?

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Yeah, I'm here. Shut up. [to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: You can come over. I don't care.

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: yay ! thanks iwa ♡

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Shut up. You sleeping over, or staying for a couple hours?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: can i sleep over?

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Yeah. [to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: My mom's cooking dinner. Want me to save you some?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: no, i'm not hungry.

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Alright, I'll save you some. Hurry up before it gets cold.

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: i don't want any- yk what nvm [from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: be there in ten !

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: mk.

. .

"Hajime! Dinner's ready!" Iwaizumi perked up as he heard his mother calling for him. He answered with a blunt, "Coming ma!," and bolted down the stairs.

"Hey, Oikawa's coming over tonight," Iwaizumi said as he sat down. "Can you save him some food? Knowing him, he probably hasn't eaten since the match."

Mrs. Iwaizumi nodded. "Of course! I'm so glad he's coming over, I love that boy. Such a sweetheart." When Iwaizumi snorted at her comment, she hit him lightly on the back of the head. "Don't do that, Hajime. He's a sweet boy." She spooned some miso soup into a small bowl, passing it to her son. "And don't act like you don't care about him either. I can see right through that little façade of yours."

Iwaizumi groaned and shoved a spoonful of the semi-salty broth into his mouth. "Sure. Do we have any milk bread?"

"No, I do have Kashipan though. They're similar, right?" She passed the buns to Iwaizumi, who shrugged.

"Yeah, sure."

After about fifteen minutes of the Iwaizumi family eating their dinner, they heard a knock at the door. "Ah, that must be Crappykawa."

Iwaizumi's mother glared at him when she heard that. "Hajime, don't call Toorū that. Like I said, he's a sweet boy." She walked over to the front door, fiddling with the locks and swinging it open. "Welcome Toorū- dear god, what happened to you?"

When he heard the shock in his mother's voice, he shoved aside his food and sprinted to the door. Oikawa stood in front of him, wearing a very soiled alien hoodie with the hood up and over his eyes. Iwaizumi could just make out the newly made bruises on his friend's jaw though, and the tear stains on his cheeks. Oikawa sniffled, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. "Um. . can I come in. ?"

Iwaizumi and his mother quickly stood aside, ushering Oikawa into their home. Iwaizumi's mother put a hand on Oikawa's shoulder, not noticing the way the boy had winced at her touch, and steered him into their dining room. "Honey, would you like some food?"

Oikawa sniffled again, nodding. "Yeah. . do you have any milk bread?"

Iwaizumi shook his head. "Not at the moment, I can ask my old man to buy some for you. He's at the market right now." Oikawa nodded in response, and Iwaizumi took out his phone, sending a quick text to his father. "You need to eat right now, though. We have miso and kashipan. Eat some of that before you get your milk bread."

Iwaizumi passed some food over to Oikawa when he sat down. His own food disregarded, he watched as Oikawa ate slowly, taking in all his features. His hood was still up, so he couldn't see the rest of his face, but he could see how much it hurt him to make small, simple movements. Every time he lifted the spoon up to his mouth, his hand shook a little, and he winced occasionally. Something panged inside Iwaizumi's chest as he watched Oikawa eat. His heart hurt a lot, more than usual. What the hell was this feeling?

Oikawa pushed the bowl away from him, messing with the hem of his hoodie again. "Um. . I'm kind of full."

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa's bowl- about a sixth of the soup was missing. Oikawa hadn't even touched the kashipan. "Crappykawa, you need to eat way more than that. You barely touched your food." He was about to force the food down his throat when he noticed his pained expression. "H-hey Oikawa, you alright. ?"

Oikawa gagged, putting a hand over his mouth. "Mrgh. Feel s-sick."

Iwaizumi stood up abruptly, helping Oikawa up and walking him to the bathroom. "How sick?"

"Feel like I'm gonna die, sick." Iwaizumi snickered a little at that, causing a slight smile to erupt on Oikawa's face. "W-wait. Where are we going?"

"Bathroom. You need to clean up." Iwaizumi opened the door and set Oikawa on the toilet, pulling a little first-aid kit out of the cabinet under the sink. Oikawa glanced at it nervously, thinking Iwaizumi was going tend to his wounds. But much to his surprise, Iwaizumi just set the box on the sink counter, and walked out of the room. "I'm going to go get you some of my clothes, and a towel. Set those in the basket, I'll clean them later."

The door clicked, and Oikawa heard Iwaizumi shuffle off to his room. He smiled a little, thankful that his friend respected his boundaries. He heard a knock on the bathroom door, replying with a small "come in." Iwaizumi opened the door, setting a towel and a set of clothes on the counter.

"If you need help with anything, let me know, okay?"

"Mmm." Iwaizumi closed the door when he heard Oikawa's reply, and walked to his room. He sat on his bed, throwing a volleyball up in the air, catching it when it came too close to his face. After a couple minutes, he heard the faint sssshhhhh of the shower faucet being turned on, and the shower curtains closing. Good. At least Crappykawa's cleaning up. He lay still, listening to the shower run, spreading out his arms and legs like a starfish. He must have lost track of time, because when he opened his eyes, Oikawa was sitting at the foot of his bed, scrolling through his phone while drying his hair.

"Crappykawa?" Oikawa turned around quickly, shutting off his phone in the process. Iwaizumi noticed this, but decided not to pry. "I didn't even hear you come in. How long have you been here?"

Oikawa shrugged. "Not long. Maybe like, a couple of minutes?" He resumed to the task of drying his hair, squeezing the water onto the light grey towel.

"Ah, I see." Iwaizumi watched Oikawa, tapping a finger against his chin. "Need help?"

"Um. . sure." His friend scooted closer to him, and handed him the towel. Iwaizumi ruffled up his hair, the towel making it ten times fluffier than it usually was. "Uh. Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

Oikawa fumbled with his shirt, it being a too big for him, since he had a leaner build. Iwaizumi thought it was cute. "You have to promise you won't tell anyone, though."

"Yeah, of course."

Oikawa took a deep breath, tears spilling out of his eyes once again. "M-my parents. . I don't feel safe with them. As soon as I got home, they yelled at me a lot because we lost the match. Um. I got mad and screamed at them too, but my dad hit me, and it got all out of control. They just kept hitting me, like I was their punching bag." He sniffed. "It hurt. It hurt a lot, Iwa. I thought they loved me. I thought-"

The third-year setter was cut short by arms being wrapped around his waist. "Shut the hell up, Shittykawa. Don't worry about a damn thing. I'll take care of everything."

"How? You can't do anything, you're not that much older than me and I couldn't even do anything." Oikawa sniffled again. "It's not like anyone would believe me anyways, or even care. A lot of people hate me, Iwa-chan."

"Yeah, well. Those who hate you can go on a date with my fist. They just don't really know who you really are inside. They just know who you want them to see. Some self-centered, cocky, arrogant, stupid bastard." Oikawa let out a little 'hey!' which made Iwaizumi laugh, before continuing. "But, I know who that self-centered, cocky, arrogant, stupid bastard really is on the inside. And it's someone I've grown to admire, no matter how much he pisses me off."

"Awe, Iwaaa~!" Oikawa flung his arms around Iwaizumi, making them fall down onto the bed. "Thank you, that was super sweet~"

Iwaizumi blushed. "N-no problem, Shittykawa. Now, get off of me."

Oikawa bit his lip a little and frowned. "But Iwaa. I thought you said you were going to help make me feel better!" Ignoring Iwaizumi's "when the hell did I say that" comment, he spread out his arms and made little gesturing motions with his hands. "I want cuddles, like the ones we used to give each other when we were younger!"

"Aren't we too old for that now?"

"No one's too old for cuddles, Iwa-chan!"

Iwaizumi scoffed, turning Oikawa around and spooning him. "There, happy?"

"Mmm." Oikawa responded, intertwining his fingers with Iwaizumi's. "Thanks, Iwa."

". . Shut up."

chapter 3 !

#oikawa tooru #oikawa fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #fanfic #series

[mikkomacko]

I can have a long blurb where alpha Harry and y/n are fucking and then Millie walks in on them but they don’t notice until they finish

Sorry this took so long :) I hope this doesn't make anyone uncomfortable x

~~~

Maybe it's like getting close to their cycles matching up and Harry's been constantly on edge because he's always turned on but he's not completely in his rut so there's nothing he can really do about it. He's been trying to get between y/n's legs all day but Millie's chosen today to be extremely clingy to Harry so he hasn't gotten a chance to even be alone with his luna.

When it's time for bed, he kinda sloppily and quickly gets Millie tucked in and he rushes through her bedtime story.

"You're not doing the voices daddy."

"Got a sore throat pup, can't do the voices right now." He lies.

"Read a shorter story than."

"M'half way through this one, we're finishing it."

She pouts, but doesn't argue with her father. Harry gets through the story, placing the book on the shelf by her bed and flicking on her nightlight. She watches him with sleepy eyes, peeking over the edge of her blanket. He turns off her lamp, leaning over his baby girl to kiss the top of her head.

"Good night pup," Harry murmurs, taking a minute to admire Millie as she falls asleep. "love you more anything."

She yawns, blinking her green eyes sluggishly. "Love you like the moon daddy."

He smoothes her hair down for a bit, waiting for her eyes to shut before tip toeing out of her room as quickly as possible. He's in too much of a rush to remember to close her door, already rushing down the hallway to the master bedroom. He can smell y/n, fresh out of the shower, and it goes straight to his cock.

It's like he's in a haze, blinded by the heat in his stomach and the pressure in his crotch. In the private of their bedroom, door kicked shut, Harry pounces on the bed, caging a towel clad y/n to the mattress.

"Harry!" She squeaks, hands involuntarily grabbing his biceps to keep him from crushing her. Her lips part to scold him but the sound is cut off by Harry's tongue in her mouth as his lips devour hers. Her eyelids shut, nails digging into his skin and a moan tries to leave her but he gulps it up.

Take my shirt off baby.

Her fingers immediately move to the bottom of his shirt, frantically pulling it up to expose the heated skin of his back to the room. Harry detaches his mouth from hers with a small smack, aiding y/n in tugging off his shirt.

What's gotten into y-fuck!

Harry growls into her skin, smirking at the whimpers that leave her mouth. He bites her bonding mark again, his hips jutting forward when she moans. Harry's hand untwists the knot in her towel, letting it fall open to expose her bare body to him. Out of instinct, her legs fall open for him and he wastes no time in laying his crotch flush with hers. Harry smoothes his tongue over the bite mark he's left and the way y/n pushes her hips up to his has his cock throbbing.

"I need to knot you baby." Harry growls into her throat, rocking his hips into hers to show off how hard he is. Y/n gasps, squeezing his shoulders tightly. "Can I? Please?"

"Yes!" She all but sobs, already pushing Harry back enough to reach for the button of his jeans. Harry assists her in taking them off, head swimming as he stands up and he inhales deeply to calm himself. It proves ineffective because her scent has taken over the whole room and it makes Harry's skin prickle with need. He yanks his pants and boxers down in one go, kicking them off his feet as his cock smacks against his stomach.

It's frantic and messy as he crawls back up her body, tongue flopping out of his mouth and dragging up her body, dipping in the curves of her flesh, until he reaches her mouth. Their teeth knock together and one of her finger nails knicks his shoulder when she clutches his broad shoulders but he doesn't care. Not one bit.

Blankets up,

She tells him, moaning when he nudges his leaking cock into her swollen clit. He groans, desperate to just fucking sink into her and have her squeezing around him but he knows he should cover them, just in case. You can never be to careful when it comes to having a dirty fuck with the little one just down the hall.

Through a huff and a backwards reach that has his thighs threatening to cramp, Harry manages to tug the blankets over them. Her legs lock around his hips, arms cradling his torso and Harry quickly slides through her wet folds until all he can feel is how warm she is. All the air in his lungs is punched out as she spasms around his cock and before he can think clearly about how he wants to fuck her, his wolf is taking off. Deep, rough thrusts of his hips that have her whimpering into the skin of his shoulder. Careful of being too loud, always so careful.

But, Harry's so unbelievably hard and feeling deprived of how wonderful it feels to have her stuck on his knot that's he not as careful as he should be. His thrusts are too rough, shaking the bed into the wall. He's fine focused on his luna to hear the thump. And when y/n pulses around his dick, practically wailing into his skin as she mouths at his bonding gland, Harry let's himself come. He lets his cock swell and swell, balls tightening as his knot catches in y/n and he releases spurt after spurt of hot cum into her.

Harry falls to his elbows, their chests pressing together as they try to steady their breathing. "Fuck you feel good," Harry breathes, licking a stripe over her throat that has her trembling under him. His knot has retracted just enough to allow him to comfortably rock into y/n without hurting her. So he does just that, shallow little ruts just to keep them both twitching and exhaling in bliss while he fills her bloodstream with him.

"Could smell you all day," Y/n murmurs, combing her fingers through his tangled hair. Harry hums, still lolling his tongue over her mark. "smelled so good. Strong and protective."

"Yeah?" He knicks his teeth over her skin and her breath shudders.

"Yeah. Wanted you so bad alpha."

Harry grunts, cock twitching at the title on her lips. No matter how many times she says it, he'll always tremble.

"Wanted me to fuck you?" Harry whispers gruffly. "Stretch you on my knot? Fill you so fuck-"

"Daddy?"

Harry's heart lodges itself in his throat, choking on his words as his head snaps up to the doorway. Millie stands in the crack of the door, Bana tucked under her little arm and her big green eyes looking at him through hazy sleepiness. Her brow furrows as she takes in the sight of them.

"Millie," Harry gasps, instinctively tugging away from y/n. The painful tug on his slowly softening knot and the way y/n whimpers has him freezing. They're stuck. They're still fucking stuck together.

"Are you ok mumma?" She whispers, pouting her little pink lip out at them. Harry's heart pounds in his chest when she steps a little further into the room. He utilizes Millie's distraction with y/n, lifting himself high enough to look down the sheets to where they're still locked together, Harry's cock visibly pulsing at the base.

"Fine!" Y/n squeaks, nails digging into Harry's shoulder when he tries to slowly tug his knot out of her. Not enough give. "I'm fine baby. Daddy was just giving me some snuggles."

Millie perks up at the word and Harry thanks whatever force in the universe keeps her from leaping onto the bed to join them. Millie loves her snuggles. "Can I have snuggles?"

Harry can feel her panic, eyes widening as he glances back down to his cock. He's able to slide out just a bit more, so close to just popping out but the largest part of his knot is still to big. He huffs, willing his cock to just fucking help him out.

"In a minute pup," Y/n rushes out, eyes widening slightly when Harry gives another gentle tug. He's so unbelievably close. "why don't you get your blanket and light? You can stay the night in here with me and daddy, yeah?"

Harry's so thankful for her quick mind. Millie jumps at the offer of a sleepover, nodding excitedly and disappearing out of the room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck Harry," y/n pants, pulling her hips away from him. Harry clenches his jaw, squeezing her elbow reassuringly as he quickly tugs back enough for his cock to free itself. They both whine at the sting, Harry immediately cupping his hand over the head of him where's he still dripping cum.

"Bathroom, quick." Y/n rushes, shoving at his shoulders. Harry slips out of the bed, grabbing his pants as he sprints to the bathroom and shuts the door. He manages to make it to toilet without dripping a single dollop of come.

He can feels himself relax and the way his insides calm down lets him know that y/n has managed to get ready just as Millie comes jumping into the room.

That was so fucking close Harold!

Harry chuckles breathlessly.

Was so fucking good though, wasn't it?

He can feel her annoyance.

I just love dripping your cum into my underwear while your daughter tells stories of the stars on her light, you fucking dick.

It only takes a couple minutes for his cock to go soft and he quickly cleans himself up and slips into his pants.

Wasn't my fault she woke up!

He exits the bathroom, smirking when he sees the pinched face of y/n, listening as patiently as she can to their babbling little one.

Was you that jumped my bones!

Harry suppresses a scoff.

"Hi pup," Harry greets Millie, climbing into bed next to her. She immediately latches onto his neck, burrowing herself between his pecs. "gonna snuggle me while mumma gets ready for bed?"

Y/n doesn't hesitate to jump up and stiffly walk to the bathroom. Harry can't help but snicker.

Shut up

Harry smoothes his fingers through Millie's messy hair. She hums a quiet song into his neck, her little fingers tickling his shoulders.

M'really sorry puppy. You're not hurt, right?

Millie swings her leg over his stomach, pressing closer to him and Harry slings his hand over her back, palm easily swallowing her little body.

I'm fine. Achy but I think that's from before the whole knotting part.

He can feel her bashful laugh.

Good. Now hurry up in there. M'gonna fall asleep.

It doesn't take her much longer to return to bed, now in pajamas, throwing her robe off to the side. She slides into bed with Harry and Millie, throwing her arm over the both of them so her hand rests over his.

"Love you puppy." Harry whispers, eyes already shut from exhaustion.

"Love you Harry."

#the true Encounter #the true encounter talk #smut #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #blurb #dad harry #daddy harry styles #poor Millie #requested #the true encounter blurb

[hadestownmodern]

Uncle Ophie

I desperately need sleep but here’s some Orpheus interacting with Junie bc you’ve been so kind, I love all the asks, I’m genuinely just still shocked at how many people like this au, and I’m really happy about it. 

-Danielle

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              The main room of Orpheus’s apartment is hushed; Eurydice wanders with careful steps with little direction, guided solely by her wandering mind. She’d seen the interior of this place more than her own-had helped decorate for Christmas with the box of hand-me-down decorations, drank hot chocolate while cutting jagged lines into the notes they’d written for final exams. She lifts a finger to admire the work they’d hung from the ceiling with scotch tape-lines of ballpoint pen in his quick, imperfect scrawling letters reading of baroque and blues and tonal systems-things he’d written over and over again until the weekend offered reprieve. It had taken most of the snowy Monday morning for them to cover the small expanse of space, but between an extra day off classes and the promise a warm bed and no responsibility, they’d fared well. She’d even brought a tree-a raggedy old thing, one from a corner market on her way home from her second job. Home-she feels her thoughts stumble at the label, thrown without a thought at the apartment full of instruments and random knick-knacks.

              She hadn’t seen her own home in days-a full week almost. She’d gone back to retrieve simple things; work clothes, a textbook, some groceries used to make a throw-together meal. She hadn’t meant to stay-there were boundaries, rules-but each time she considered the thought of leaving her mind skipped a beat; refused to believe that it was an option. Running had sounded so sweet back before Orpheus. Before him-before Thanksgiving, and I love you slipping between busy lips…before that night, with his arms around her as if they’d been there all along, running was a hobby-a necessity. Now, with paper snowflakes and hot chocolate-with Orpheus and “lover” and his apartment key on her keychain, run was the last word on her mind.

              The apartment is hushed, but not silent. Eurydice’s ears perk at the sound of soft laughter-a little chiming of bells, blissful and happy, resonating along with Orpheus’s carefree chuckle. Her features soften, breath hitching. Then, the delicate strumming of a guitar, and his voice fills the apartment with a sort of glowing that matches the string lights hung along their threadbare tree. She can’t quite catch the lyrics-something about a rabbit, and then Junie’s voice adding in a bear and a frog. Every so often he stops his song-voice inflecting a question of what should happen next? And the tiny voice answers back instantly, chipper and soft, through a yawn. Eurydice finds herself next to the bedroom door, where the lights have been dimmed to a soft glow and two shadows sit close together. His figure is lanky, leaned over the guitar with practiced ease. Orpheus looks down at the toddler, tucked into bed but sitting upright, who holds three stuffed animals close to her chest. Junie stares back at Orpheus with round, shining eyes filled with a warmth that mirrors his own. Eurydice feels her heart pull in her chest; it’s the same adoration she’d seen a month ago, the first time she’d seen Orpheus with Junie close to his hip, babbling on as she cursed herself that the mystery musician had a child.

              It hadn’t been a wrong assumption-Orpheus continues his bedtime song, strumming chords that feel right, flow although it’s not a song she knows-it’s one he’s constructed. This fantasy world-the one of the three animals Junie held close, is being built before her eyes. As Junie looks at her uncle with stars in her eyes, he leans down and kisses her head. Tender and delicate, the toddler cups his face in her tiny hands and kisses his nose, her lips upturned in a sleepy smile. It hadn’t been wrong of Eurydice to assume that he was her father when he looked at her as though his entire world was bottled inside of this little peanut of a curly-haired little girl.

“One more question tonight, then bed. Okay?” She nods, her curls settling down by her shoulders as she sinks further into her pillow. She asks Orpheus about the rabbit again-a prim little toy, with a crown upon its head and the only sign of wear being a rubbed-off nose and slightly tattered ear. He pauses for a moment-his fingers dance along the neck of the guitar as he ponders what will happen next. Eurydice’s head nestles itself against the doorframe, her entire being enraptured. His face lights up, then, and he begins playing. It’s a slower version of what she’d heard before, his fingers plucking the strings rather than strumming. He wraps things up neatly-a rabbit prince inviting others to his kingdom, making friends by choosing to be kind. He weaves the moral delicately between his softly sung falsetto and easily crafted world, holding out until the last note. Junie’s eyes droop but she fights to keep them open, blinking and rubbing and stifling another long yawn. He laughs then, sets the guitar lightly against her bed and shuffles himself closer to her. Eurydice considers moving then, going back to the living room under the guise that she’d been there all along. But then Orpheus leans down, raising the covers to Junie’s chin and settling his face close to hers.

              “Love you forever, Buggy.”

              “Luff you, Ophie.” Her tiny hands wrap themselves tight behind Orpheus’s back and squeeze hard; both pairs of eyes shut themselves in response. There’s a long rise and fall of his chest, a deep sigh that covers the room with serenity. They linger in the moment. Eurydice lets it wash over her, too, from her place in the doorway, her heart shifting and pulsing inside of her chest. When they break apart Orpheus runs one hand down her cheek, grinning and kissing Junie again. He wishes her one more soft good night, then turns her nightlight down a smidge before picking up his guitar.

              Eurydice pulls herself away from her vantage point and retreats back to the couch, throwing an old, chunkily knit blanket over her legs. She can hear the soft tap of his bare feet against the wood floors before she feels his arms around her, his head on her shoulder. He traces the line of her neck with feathered kisses and she loses her breath, craning her head to meet his. When he joins her on the couch her head falls to his chest, her legs tangling themselves in his as she lays them sideways and covers him with her blanket. They’re pressed close together on the tiny couch, with its sunken cushions, but there is familiarity in the posture. She hasn’t slept without him since Thanksgiving night-since her decision to go home with him had turned into an unexpected domesticity she’d fallen into without a second thought. And here, with the note-ridden snowflakes and the ragged-looking Christmas tree; with Junie’s toys all over the floor and her tiny frame in the bed they usually occupied, Eurydice lets herself fall into the pattern of his breathing. The weekend had been exhausting, occupying the sweet little girl while her parents were away turning into snowmen in the park and hot cocoa at home, to Christmas movies and singing to Orpheus strumming every Christmas carol he knew. And then she’s half asleep, his fingers finding soft, mindless movement in her hair and lulling her eyes shut.

              “Love?” Her voice is already laced with the grogginess of sleep-his response is a hum, melodic even in its sleepy, questioning answer.

              “Sing to our babies like you sing to Junie.” She doesn’t even think of the words as they come slipping from between her lips, a whispered voice that brushes up against his chest. She’s not thinking of run-no, she hasn’t thought of run since Thanksgiving night, since watching Orpheus run up and down the halls of Persephone’s grand house with Junie close beside him. No, since then-since fumbling hands and tender promises of love the next morning, Eurydice has felt firmly planted to the man who sings with his soul and loves with the entirety of his heart. And with Junie snoring softly in the bedroom they’ve shared since that night, Eurydice finally feels home; a home where she pictures tiny feet running, little hands strumming his instruments, and eyes just like his above a tiny baby’s ruddy cheeks. She feels his breath release for a moment, a finger lightly tapping the bottom of her chin. She turns her face up to his to see him beaming, sleepy eyes shining and upturned lips meeting hers.

              “I’ll sing to our babies every day,” the words move against her own lips, his nose brushing her nose, his heart beating against her own. “I promise.”

#hadestown #hadestownmodern #Orpheus #junie #eurydice #orphydice #technically #danielle writes #thanks for making me the HAPPIEST

[demaury]

little adjustments (4k words, on ao3)

It’s stupid to be mad at your husband. They’re not that kind of couple anyway. They’ve reached the unattainable level of wholesome that their friends dream about. High school sweethearts turned husbands, two successful jobs, a flat reasonably big for the three of them and not too expensive, a baby, and above all, eight years of marriage and not a scratch, not a crack, not a fight — that’s just how perfect it all is. They’re the Lallemant-Demaury.

So who cares if Eliott is a little late?

OR; Eliott is late and Lucas isn't as happy as he lets people think he is. 

THURSDAY, 17:21

“What do you mean ‘I should go’?”, Lucas repeats, frowning to himself as he stands up from the couch. There’s a sound in the background, on the other end of the line, like a door closing and people talking, and Lucas presses his phone even tighter against his ear. He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that at all. “Eliott, seriously, you promised you’d find a way to leave early!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a little delay, I swear,” Eliott insists, nearly pleading. Quiet footsteps take him further away from the voices and Lucas huffs in frustration.

Of fucking course. He glares at the wall of their living-room, crossing one arm over his chest and tucking his hand under his left elbow. “The appointment is at 18h15! How much more time do you need?”

Unbelievable. They’ve picked that particular appointment because they knew it’d work well with Eliott’s schedule — a schedule that is in large part composed of work-days ending at 17h00. Now it’s almost 17h30 and it’s a given that they won’t be at the hospital in time, no matter if Eliott finds a way to pop up here, in the middle of their apartment, in the next fifteen minutes.

Eliott seems to ponder his answer, either because he truly has no idea or because he knows Lucas won’t like the answer. Either fucking way, he hates it. He’s about to start pestering some more when his husband starts talking again. “I don’t know, hm,” Eliott says carefully, and uh-oh, that’s the tone he uses when ‘hm Lucas, baby, there’s a possibility I may have screwed up with the washing machine’. Amazing. “It’s, uh, it’s difficult to say. They insisted to review some works from my project team, you know those inspired by a night-”

“A night in Tokyo, yeah, I know,” Lucas completes with a small sigh.

Eliott has been hit by a wave of inspiration after watching a documentary on the Japanese town a few months ago and ever since he’s been working so much to put together a whole atmosphere, going as far covering their living-room and his office at work with printed pictures of the town, why does it have to be today of all day that he gets called in to show them?

There’s a small silence, until Eliott breaks it. “Lucas?” he calls out quietly, and he sounds a little nervous. “We’ve already gone through about half of it I’d say, we have a few more boards left but I can tell them I have an emergency.”

“No it’s fine.” Your daughter meeting her cardiologist isn’t worth shortening a meeting, he almost says, but he quickly catches himself. Fuck he’s the worst. When did he become such an ass? He can thank his brain-to-mouth filter for keeping the snide comment in, because he really doesn’t need Eliott to break down right now. His right hand breaks free from under his elbow and rubs his forehead. “You know what, you’re right, I’ll just go to Necker and you’ll join me there whenever you can.”

“I’m so sorry,” Eliott says, “I swear I’ll do my best to be there.”

Considering the Parisian traffic, fat chance it doesn’t happen, but Lucas forces himself to stay positive. He can do that. He’s not even remotely close to what people would call an optimist, but he can be optimistic for the next hour.

“Sure, see you there,” he mumbles, unconvinced, before disconnecting the call with a final exchange of ‘love you’.

Eliott is the person he loves most on this fucking planet — husband of nearly ten years and all — but God he’s too nice. He never knows when and how to say no, which means that he’s never ever on time, and medical appointments are by far his weakest spot.

(Well, appointments in general, to be fair.)

(What can he expect from someone who arrived late on their wedding day?)

(God, he loves him so much but he’s such a dork.)

He tucks his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and exits the living-room, trying his best to avoid the mental image of himself sulking like a 12yo. Come on, he’s 30. He doesn’t sulk. At worst he’s annoyed. And anxious. Yeah. Anxious. Anyone in his position would be anxious. He has the right to be. After all he’s got a cardiac baby at home, a cardiac baby who needs a check-up.

He makes his way through the flat, padding in the hall until he reaches the last door to the right, just across from their bedroom. Everything is quiet on the other side of the door, which doesn’t really help him feel better. Twisting his mouth in resignation, he pushes it open slowly, letting the warm light of the hall flooding the bedroom as he pads in. His socked feet meet the plushy rug on the floor when he arrives next to the crib, a soft hand trailing over the edge as he rounds it.

As usual, Elina is sleeping on her back, with her two arms thrown on each side of her head.

She looks like she’s saying ‘fuck it’, he had observed the first time he had seen her asleep, and Eliott had given him a kick of the elbow in the ribs. He had hated every second of the five minutes they had spent watching their prospective child from behind a large window, like she was some kind of zoo animal — she was just so small and so lonely in a crib far too big for Lucas’ taste, no matter how colorful the nursery was and how gentle the people working there were.  

Lucas lets a hand hover above her head, his fingers lightly brushing her hair, combing until she starts to stir a little and lets out faint, sleepy grunts.

“Hi baby,” Lucas whispers gently, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Elina throws her tiny fist in the air as she wakes. It’s always a stretch to wake her up when she’s so peacefully asleep, and it’s not for nothing that he’s conveniently chosen to believe everyone telling him to let the baby sleep until they wake up on their own. Consider it payback, Basile had suggested once when he tried to make his point crossed. She keeps you up at night after all. There are so many wrong things about this that Lucas hadn’t even found it in himself to explain to him why payback with your baby isn’t a thing — one thing, though, is that he doesn’t regret picking Yann as Elina’s godfather.

Keeping a hand on her belly, he uses the other to lower the slatted rail down, making sure that the crib-bumpers don’t get in the way. Like most of their daughter’s bedroom, it fits the theme Eliott has picked for it — navy tones, with sparkles of silver and gold when stars are involved, and touches of orange when some foxes are, for some reason, thrown into the mix. He’s never really understood why foxes would fit a sky/space theme but apparently he’s the only one. Eliott is the kind of dad to think about that, about color-coordinated baby stuff and themed nursery, about cloud-shaped nightlights, about decorating himself the plain white crib they bought because there wasn’t a single one he liked on the market — he just wishes Eliott would be the kind of dad who would also stand his ground a little bit more when it comes to work.

He sighs to himself, and Elina peers at him with sleepy eyes, blinking hard to adjust. Why is he even petty? It’s just a stupid appointment, he thinks as he picks her up. Technically, she no longer needs the hand that automatically flies at the back of her head to keep her neck from wobbling dangerously, but Lucas can’t help it, he’s gotten accustomed to it. He presses a kiss to her temple, now fully covered with chestnut hair. When they first met her, five months ago, she only had a mop of hair on the top of her small head, but soon he’ll be able to do something with it. Maybe put a small hair clip or something to get it out of her face — there were tiny ones at Tape A l’Oeil’s the other day and he had almost melted at the sight. Elina yawns some more as she rests her head on his shoulder, and he motions towards the changing table after checking the time on his phone.

He’s got ten more minutes to pack everything and be ready.

It’s good.

He’s got this.

THURSDAY, 18:01

He’s not bitter.

Nope. Not at all.

He’s not mad either. It’s stupid to be mad at your husband. They’re not that kind of couple anyway. They aren’t the kind to be mad at each other. They’ve reached the unattainable level of wholesome that their friends dream about. High school sweethearts turned husbands, two successful jobs (Eliott as a concept artist in a Parisian studio, him as a researcher in the Pasteur Institute), a baby, a flat reasonably big for the three of them and not too expensive (thus preserving them from having to worry every month), and above all, eight years of marriage and not a scratch, not a crack, not a fight — that’s just how perfect it all is. They’re Eliott and Lucas (and Elina).

They’re the Lallemant-Demaury.

So who cares if Eliott is a little late?

It doesn’t matter, he thinks as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting impatiently for the street-light to go green.

Even if he has to get through this alone, it’s not a problem.

It’s not like they’ve had this appointment for two months now, which is also the last time Lucas has found himself in the 15e, in this exact parking-lot. He throws a quick glance at Elina in the rear-view mirror. She’s busy chewing on her pacifier in her car-seat, eyes closed, but he can tell she’s not asleep. Whenever she does, she does those sucking sounds that sometimes get so loud they can hear it all the way from their bedroom — so much it literally cockblocked them for a while.

He tries to focus on the important thing at hand. His daughter is fine. She’s never been better, even. This appointment is just a check-up. No harm ever comes from a check-up, right? And what if she still has the scar of her open-heart surgery on her tiny body? She isn’t in pain and she won’t even remember it — it will fade away eventually, or so they said. What if he can’t help but check on her breathing every now and then, just because he’s afraid it might quicken all over again? He’s home all fucking day long, it’s not like he’s got anything better to do. That’s what caring for your child means, right?

And he cares about Linou.

So. Yeah.

He’s not mad.

The street-signal goes green and he can finally turn right to engage himself in the closest parking-lot from the Necker Hospital. What kind of hospital doesn’t have a parking lot? Parisian hospitals. For fuck’s sake it really is his luck. He’s almost been running late because he had to check and double-check google maps to make sure he remembers where to park — because two months is a long time, and he’s had very little sleep in the end, so he did forget and usually Eliott is good at remembering stuff like these.

Because usually we’re together, he thinks begrudgingly, making his way inside the underground parking-lot and absently cruising through the rows of car, on the look-out for an available spot. It’s 18h04, he really needs to find one, preferably before he has a nervous breakdown. His eyes stumble on the brake-lights of a pitch-black 5008 slowly leaving its parking spot, and he pulls to a stop, slightly wincing when it’s a little harsher than expected — but Elina is still calm and quiet at the back, so it’s fine. Mostly. Nobody needs to know anyway.

(It’s been his motto for a while.)

(Ever since he became a dad actually.)

(But… yeah. Nobody needs to know.)

He waits for the 5008 to eventually move its ass away to be able to start parking, fingers tapping over the steering-wheel all over again as he grumpily hums the tune on the radio. By the time he’s managed to squeeze his C3 between an ugly brown Nissan Juke and a red pocket sized-car he doesn’t even know the brand of, it’s nearly time for him to start running to get there on time. It’s always when he has to maneuver to get into a parking spot that he misses the DS3 he had to leave behind, a couple of months ago, for a car that doesn’t require him to follow a special training from the Cirque du Soleil to get his daughter in and out — four doors really do save lives.

Elina starts gurgling happily, kicking her limbs impatiently, when he opens the back door to free her from her backseat. There’s the stroller in the trunk, but it’s too late for him to bother taking it out, to Lucas’ dismiss.

(He’s the stroller dad.)

(Eliott is the baby-carrier dad.)

(Which is infinitely easier when you have long-ass legs, he guesses, and that no one risks elbowing the baby in the head.)

He simply grabs the diaper bag and throws it on his shoulder, carrying his daughter on his hip after carefully making sure that neither the pacifier or the plushy baby seal she’s been in love with lately are missing, and that both her shoes are still on, before he slams the door shut and locks the car behind him.

See? It’s all good. He doesn’t even need a husband, he thinks darkly, but ultimately he feels bad and holds Elina a little tighter against himself.

Anxiety makes him an ass: confirmed.

THURSDAY, 18:32

He really doesn’t know why he even bothered to be nervous about being late. All fucking doctors in the world are late. He should have known better. He’s been sitting here for half an hour now and frankly he’s starting to wonder how he’s going to keep Elina busy if only for the next five minutes. She’s starting to get fussy into his lap, which means that she’s either grumpy because he woke her up earlier or because she needs to be changed — either way, there’s nothing he can do about it now. That would be his luck if as soon as he stands up and goes to the bathroom, someone calls them in.

So he’s sitting there, trying to keep his 9-month-old baby busy with a fucking baby-seal plushy, mentally praying that she’s simply annoyed and tired (like her dad, actually), when there’s a rustle of clothes somewhere on the side. His head snaps up to find Eliott sighing in relief, like he wasn’t sure he’d find them here — it doesn’t help him feel less prickly about the whole situation.

(And who cares if Eliott is always so beautiful?)

(He’s good at multitasking.)

(He can be mad and enjoy the sight of his husband.)

“Hey, you’re here,” Eliott says, sounding a little breathy, like he’s been running through the maze of hallways that is this stupid hospital.

“Of course, I’m here,” he snorts, focusing back onto Elina while Eliott puts the diaper bags on the floor before sliding in a plastic chair next to his own. “I’m not really the element of surprise in this.”

“Lucas…” He can hear his smile faltering in his voice, and he twists his mouth a little, feeling ashamed of himself.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he says, looking back to Eliott. He cranes his head up for his husband to give him a quick kiss, and Eliott immediately obliges. “How did it go?”

“It was fine I guess,” Eliott admits, shuffling a little closer. Elina has immediately perked up onto his presence and Eliott presses a kiss to the tiny hand which wrapped itself around his thumb. “They seemed to like the few stuff we had to offer and I think I might be able to sell them the color palette, so it’s already a win.” Elina has a little catlike laugh and it draws a blinding smile onto Eliott’s face. He leans forward and picks her from Lucas’ lap. “Hello, sweetie,” he singsongs, pecking her little nose before sitting her on his lap.

Lucas observes them in silence. “I’m happy for you,” he says eventually, forcing a tight smile in Eliott’s direction.

Eliott looks up and shoots him his shinning grin, the one that makes him all soft and crinkly-eyed. “How did your day go?”

And… his annoyance is back. “Thrilling,” he replies darkly. “We finished the incredible Animal Carnival story, and I did laundry. A day filled with accomplishments and excitements, you can bet.”

Eliott is combing Elina’s hair with his fingers, turning a slightly embarrassed face towards him. “You know you don’t have to do that, I’m on laundry duty this week.”

“And what do I do when she spits up on me?” he scoffs. “Pile everything up in the middle of our bedroom and just wait for everything to smell like someone has puked in there?”

He knows he’s being stupid but he just can’t help it — he can’t control it. It’s like some fucking dumbass has possessed his body, like his stupid brain-to-mouth filter has stopped working. Eliott doesn’t have much difficulty spotting a snide comment when he hears one, and he cocks his head to the side while Elina is busy toying with the lapels of her dad’s jacket. “Lucas, what’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he grumbles, looking away. “It’s just that you can’t just postpone laundry for ten hours when it smells-”

“I’m not talking about laundry,” Eliott cuts him off gently, and he puts a hand on his thigh to get his attention back to him until they make eye-contact. “You know you can tell me everything, right?”

Eliott’s eyes are simultaneously the best and the worst things that happened to Lucas’ life. He’s always been a smooth-talker and a smooth-liar, always finding the right thing to say to get out of messy situations, but it all flew out of the window the day he met Eliott, in the common room. At best, ever since then, he’s been able to offer cheeky comments and occasional acts of bravery — like having sex in the aforementioned common-room, for instance.

But lying to Eliott?

Trying to deceive Eliott?

It’s always been off the table.

“I miss my job,” he blurts out. “And I’m- I’m sorry for snapping at you, I know it was the deal, and it’s got nothing to do with Elina.” He reaches out and caresses her cheek softly. “She’s the most precious thing in the world to me, I’d never regret having her in my life. It’s just-”

“Hey, you don’t have to do that with me. Okay?” Eliott interrupts again. He adjusts his position on the plastic chair, sitting Elina with her back against his chest. “I know you love her, and I know it’s not the problem. We’re talking about you right now.”

He presses his lips together tightly, until they’re only a thin line. “I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he sighs, shoulders slumping a little. “For five months, everything has been about baby food and quarters of nights, and afternoons sliced in six because of the naps and all the times she wakes-up in-between. I just want to talk to adults, you know? Real adults.” He has a nervous snort. “There’s this mom who’s constantly baby-talking at the park and it drives me fucking insane. I swear it keeps me up at night.” When he looks back up, he sees that Eliott’s face starts crumpling from contained laughter. “Don’t laugh at me!,” he whisper-screams, offended.

His husband hides his chuckle behind a small coughing fit. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, becoming serious all over again — which Lucas appreciates. “Why did you never say anything before?”

“Because that was the deal,” he insists.

That’s what they had decided, the very day they had decided to become Linou’s parents. She had been abandoned by her mother as soon as she had been born because of a stupid heart-condition, and when they were contacted by the ASE to (maybe) become her parents, they had instantly agreed that, in the event of them actually becoming her dads, one of them would stay home for a six-month parental leave to help her settle in and watch over her. That was the deal, and Lucas had agreed wholeheartedly. He couldn’t just backtrack two months in, particularly because they had monthly visits from the social worker. How could he ever manage to convince anyone that he really wants to be a dad if he says that spending time with his baby gets on his nerves?

He’s not sure he could survive it, if anyone tried to take Elina away from them now.

“I know you love your job and I didn’t want you to feel bad about going to work every day,” he admits, and eventually he sighs, shaking his head. “It’s just that I’m really not cut for being a stay-at-home parent and it’s starting to drive me nuts.”

Now he officially feels like the worst dad ever.

On top of feeling like a fraud 90% of the time.

Eliott slides an arm behind his shoulders and pulls him closer until he can press a kiss to his temple. “First of all,” he whispers, “don’t keep things bottled up. Alright? You know it doesn’t sit well with you.” Lucas lets out a small snort. “Second of all, I have to confess one thing,” Eliott says, and he pauses when Lucas looks back at him, wincing a little bit. “I was glad when the coin chose you.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Really?”

Eliott pulls Elina back closer against him. “Yeah. At first I was kind of envious, because she kept freaking out whenever I came in the room, and she wouldn’t want to snuggle with me and you were spending so much time with her,” he says, and Lucas has to protest.

“She didn’t freak out.”

“That’s your opinion on it,” Eliott scoffs, but he doesn’t seem mad about it.

For at least three weeks, if not a month, Elina would stop laughing whenever Eliott would enter her visual field. She wouldn’t eat whenever he would try to giver her the bottle and she kept staring at him all the time. It took a while for them to figure out — or at least for Lucas to figure out, because Eliott was still not buying it —, but he eventually realized that Elina’s only problem with her dad was his eyes. Apparently, his baby daughter was mesmerized by Eliott’s gaze, and frankly he couldn’t blame her. Been there, done that, he would quietly tell her whenever she’d stare at Eliott a little too long, and inevitably Eliott would huff and leave the room until Lucas stopped laughing.

“I just started counting all the stuff I wouldn’t get to see, you know, all the first times you’d witness,” Eliott says again, waving the baby seal for a grinning Elina to reach out for it. “But then we started working on the project and it was so amazing and exciting all over again, and I was glad I got that opportunity.” He leans a little bit closer and Lucas reciprocates. “I was selfish, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not selfish, we both agreed to that,” Lucas protests, annoyance long faded. He starts rubbing Elina’s foot and she greets him with a huge smile, babbling things and nearly causing the pacifier to tumble off.

Next to them, the door opens and a couple with a kid who’s probably at least 8 exits the office, small-talking on their way out with the cardiologist. They’re busy shaking hands when Eliott tugs at his sleeve, drawing his attention back on him. “We’re gonna have to put a pin on that,” he says, “but don’t think you’re off the hook. There’s a long talk about feelings and personal thoughts ahead of you tonight.”

He winces, but it’s more to make Eliott cringe than anything else. His husband huffs and gives him a playful slap on the arm as he stands up, still holding Elina against his chest. Lucas leans down to picks up the diaper bag.

Feelings.

Yeah. He can probably do that — as long as it’s with Eliott, that is.

#skam france #elu fic #eliott demaury #mine #lucas lallemant #* #it's only slightly angsty i promise #like barely #it's mostly fluff #i swear #my fics

[grace-likes-things]

Chapter Six - Something Different

Masterlist

A/N: LMAO so me being consistent has flown out the window! Hello again! Anyway, this chapter is pretty cool and was fun to write so please enjoy!

Warnings: language?

~~~~~~~

My elbows rest heavily on a table in my father’s lab at the compound. I’m leaned over, small tools in my hand, attempting to mend some of the wiring from a project that’s been laying around for weeks. But I find I’m becoming increasingly frustrated with myself, as my hands can't keep steady, and the tools keep slipping. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to get them to land in the position I want them to.

My attention is redirected when I hear a noise across the vast room. The lights are dim except around my desk, but I can see the small figure crouching to pick up the figurine she just dropped.

“Morgan?” I ask, “What are you doing down here alone?”

“I'm bored. I wanna play,” the girl mumbles, clumsily pushing her brown locks from in front of her eyes. She’s barefooted, walking around in pajamas, not at all safe in a lab that can be as cluttered and messy as this one.

“Why don’t you go back up and find dad, we can play in a bit, okay? You shouldn’t be in the lab, you know that.”

Frowning, Morgan turns back toward the door to the staircase, “okay…”

I feel bad for dismissing her, but decide to clean up my work and call it a night so I can spend some time with her. I stand, rounding the table and putting my tools away, but when I go to secure the cover panel on the project, I hear a click.

And the clicking keeps going.

My eyes follow the wire protruding from the side of the machine, a strange red light traveling along the cord. It twists to the ground, between my feet, and I spin to watch it go. Lazily, it continues on its path, finally ending….

Finally ending at the tile beneath the small girl’s bare feet.

“Morgan!”

But I’m too late, and I watch in horror as panels rise from the edges of the tile and swallow the poor girl up, locking her in a box that I have a dreadful feeling there’s no way out of.

“Y/N!” I hear ever so faintly from behind the material, and in my panic I spin to find the exit, but it’s disappeared.

Another 180, and the entire room is gone.

I stand alone on a single square of tile, darkness surrounding me.

“Dad?” I shout pathetically into the darkness, “Pepper?”

But of course, no one hears me.

I study the expanse surrounding my tile, and slowly, unsteadily, slide one foot to the edge. I let it drop off the side. There is only air underneath.

I gasp, regaining my balance and solidifying my feet, and when I look back up again, a faint red glow greets me.

There’s a red button, floating in the nothingness.

“Code red…” I murmur to no one. A warning. ‘Come now, come quick!’ it means.

That’s how I get him to save Morgan.

That’s how I get him to save me.

I extend my arm, open palmed, and reach.

But it sits just past my fingertips.

“Come on,” I whimper desperately, and shuffle forward, reaching once more.

Nothing.

I stare down at my feet in the dim light, inching them forward until I stand on the very edge of the small tile. I look up, knowing with certainty that this time my arm has to make the length.

I reach again.

My fingertips are so close that I feel the warm glow of the bulb inside before I lose my balance.

And I fall into the void.

I wake, sweaty and gasping.

My legs swing over the edge of the bed, savoring the carpeted floor beneath them, and I pick up my phone to check the time.

It’s 4 am.

Flicking my lamp on, I slide on my slippers, taking in my well lit — very much tangible — surroundings. I’m able to take comfort in the familiar surroundings. It may not be my old bedroom, but my dad sure did the best he could to recreate the environment I used to live in. A few of my old posters line the walls, from concerts of bands long split up after the snap. Picture frames of the two of us sit on the top shelf above my desk, along with the miniature version of the giant bunny he gave Pepper. I remember I was little, and so jealous at seeing it that I just had to have one of my own.

He found pictures of Peter and I, too, which must have been recovered from my phone. I’ve cluttered the desk up pretty well since school started up again, but despite the mess you can still see our faces smiling next to a mug holding the flower-pens I made in girl scouts. I cross, spinning the mug.

“World’s Super-ist Dad!” It reads.

An art class gift for fathers day when I was seven. Painted red and gold.

My eyes begin to water slightly. He lost his daughter, recreated her room, and locked away her gifts to him inside it.

I sigh, wiping swiftly under my eyes and walking out of the room. After that nightmare I need some water and some fresh fucking air, but before that, I pause at my sister’s door. Slowly turning the knob, I push it open just far enough to see the small girl tangled in her comforter, hair in disarray around her head. Her nightlight shines dimly, cool blue.

Not red. Not the button.

Satisfied with her safety, I quietly shut the door and continue to make my way downstairs, grabbing a cup from a kitchen cabinet and filling it at the sink. It’s starting to become cold outside, so before stepping out onto the porch I grab a blanket to wrap around my shoulders and proceed out to settle in a chair.

Since when have I had dreams like that? I think to myself while staring at the moonlight reflected on the lake. Sure, Titan has come up a few times in the few weeks I've been back, plus the battle in the ruins of the old Avengers Compound, but nothing so abstract. And it was the old lab it took place in, which was destroyed by Thanos’s ships. It didn’t even exist anymore, so why am I dreaming about being in it? Much less with Morgan?

And god, what happened to her?

The biggest question, however, is the deeply buried memory of ‘Code Red’. It was an old way for me to cry for help through JARVIS when I was young, and eventually through FRIDAY. If the A.I. relayed a Code Red from Y/N, everyone stopped what they were doing to find me. It wasn’t always too serious, once I took a hard fall down the stairs, another time I dropped a glass and it cut my hand. Sometimes it was more urgent, like the time appendicitis struck, or when the tower or compound had been infiltrated and the bad guys were getting just a little too close to my quarters.

Dad had always come to the rescue.

So why now, when life is finally suspended in relative peacetime, am I having a dream about our old emergency code?

Mostly, what’s shaken me up so badly is seeing Morgan in the nightmare. I always suspected that our dreams had meaning, but I don't know what the hell my mind could be trying to tell me by trapping the poor girl in a box. I suspect I’m reading too much into it.

I shake my head to clear my mind of the issue. I’ve finished most of my water and decide it’s time to turn in, and I pace quietly back up to my room to catch a few more hours of sleep.

#peter parker fic #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x stark!reader #MCU #mcu fic #tony stark #tony stark x daughter!reader #stark!reader #stark!daughter #morgan stark #pepper potts #iron man #spiderman #spiderman ffh #spiderman far from home #spiderman homecoming #spiderman hc #ffh #tom holland #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fic #angst #something different #post endgame #post endgame fic

[singledarkshade]

Entwined Hearts

Part Four “Uncle John!!!!!!!”

Rip smiled, letting his son go so he could charge at the man standing waiting for them in the arrivals lounge. John crouched, catching the boy and lifting him into a tight hug.

Reaching them Rip nodded at his friend and they started walking towards the car.

It was now over a year since that horrible day and his mother had decided it was time for him to get back into the world. They’d been living with her long enough. So, with help from John, Rip managed to get a job in Central City University and rented a house for them. John was going to stay for a while, until Rip and Jonas were settled.

The house was in a nice neighbourhood, there was a big front garden that was fenced in for Jonas to play in and Rip knew the back yard was the same.

“The house is fully furnished,” John told them, removing the luggage from the car as Rip got Jonas out of his car seat, “I moved everything in a few days ago. The three of us will be settled in nice and fast.”

Rip noticed a few curtains twitch when John rested his hand on Rip’s shoulder, “Having fun?”

“Always,” John smirked, he opened the front door ushering them inside.

The inside of the house was nice, clean with a lot of light making it look bigger than it was. Rip could see the living room to one side and knew just through that was the kitchen/dining room. To his other side was the two bedrooms with a set of stairs just beyond leading up to the converted third bedroom.

“Where’s my room?” Jonas asked as he looked around thoughtfully, Gary Bear held close to him.

“Right this way,” John swept the boy up carrying him through the house, “It’s all ready for you and just needs your approval.”

Rip followed his best friend and son as they bounced towards the smallest bedroom. Smiling to see the pale blue walls against the dark blue carpet with a bed tucked into the corner beside the window with a bedside table that had a nightlight sitting on it. All his clothes were in the wardrobe and chest of drawers with a toybox filled with his toys, the only things missing was Gary Bear and the picture of his mother that Jonas couldn’t sleep without.

“What do you think?” John asked, dropping Jonas onto the bed.

Jonas looked around with a thoughtful expression peering out the window, “I can see trees, like at Grandma’s.”

With a completely serious look John nodded, “That’s because there’s a park that way.”

“Do you like it?” Rip asked softly.

The boy shrugged, “It doesn’t smell right.”

Rip and John both chuckled before John hugged his godson, “That’s because it’s just been cleaned for us moving in.”

“Okay,” Jonas gave a shrug before asking, “Where’s your room, Daddy?”

A knock on the door surprised them before Rip could answer. Opening it Rip found an older man with grey hair, and glasses standing there.

“You must be Rip,” he said, offering his hand, “Martin Stein.”

The knowledge clicked instantly in Rip’s mind. This was their new landlord and Rip’s new boss.

“Martin,” John appeared, “Nice to see you. Didn’t expect to but it’s nice to see you.”

“Well,” Martin stated with a smile, “I wanted to ensure you were settled in.”

“Daddy?” Jonas’ confused voice preceded him tugging Rip’s arm, “Who’s that?”

Rip lifted his son into his arms, “Jonas, this is Professor Stein. This is his house we’re staying in.”

Jonas thought this over for a moment before asking, “Why doesn’t he live here?”

John laughed but before Rip could answer the older man spoke up.

“I have a very nice house not far from here,” Martin explained, “But I also own this one, so I let people who need a place to stay use it.”

The little boy thought this over for a moment before nodding.

“What do you think of the house?” Martin asked him.

Jonas shrugged, “I can see trees from my window. Uncle John says there’s a park.”

“The park is lovely,” Martin told them, “They have fetes and concerts during the year but something about the acoustics mean there is very little noise at this side.”

John ruffled Jonas’ hair, “And it’s got some fantastic swings for us to play on, Jonas.”

The little boy beamed at his uncle.

“I also wanted to let you know that Jonas has a spot in the day care at the University,” Martin continued, “My wife oversees it, and was able to find a space for him. She has a wonderful program set up for children as they ready for the move to school.”

Rip nodded, “Thank you.”

“Well, I will leave you to settle in,” Martin said, “If you need anything just let me know. John has my number and I’ll see you on Monday.”

 Rip knelt by Jonas’s bed, tucking his little boy in after they’d finished their story. Putting the nightlight on, Rip smiled to see the stars suddenly cover the walls of the room knowing John had chosen this one specifically because Jonas loved stars.

“Alright, little man,” Rip smiled, “Go to sleep. I am right next door if you need me.”

Jonas nodded, “I know, Daddy.”

The little boy yawned widely, snuggling into the pillow and hugging his bear tightly as his eyes closed.

“Night, baby boy,” Rip breathed softly as he moved to the door.

“Night, Daddy,” Jonas whispered before adding, “Night, Mummy.”

Blinking away tears, Rip watched his son for a second before closing the door leaving him to sleep. Heading to the living room, Rip dropped to sit on the couch beside John.

“How you doing?” John asked.

Sighing Rip shrugged, “I’m here which is more than I thought I’d manage last week.”

John rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I know how hard this is, but I’ll be here until you don’t need me anymore.”

Gratefully Rip nodded, “Good. Jonas loves having you here and it’s helpful to have someone else to keep up with him.”

“Get some sleep and I’ll give you both a proper tour of the city tomorrow,” John said, “And remember…”

“If I need to talk, I will let you know,” Rip gave him a small smile before heading to his room.

Even after the year, six weeks and three days the bed was still too big without Miranda and Rip slept only on his side. The other side was undisturbed just waiting for her to slide in beside him.

Laying back and looking up at the ceiling Rip hoped he’d get a few hours’ sleep tonight.

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

  Clarissa smiled when Gideon walked into the office, moving to hug her quickly.

“Thank you for doing this,” Clarissa said leading her to the seat, “My new start isn’t here until next week and that wasn’t a problem except June has food poisoning. And you’re still certified to work with the kids after the summer.”

Gideon laughed, it was so rare to see Clarissa worked up like this.

“I’m happy to help,” Gideon told her, “My contract doesn’t start until next week and you know how much I enjoyed the summer program teaching computer skills to the children.”

Relief covered Clarissa’s face, “Well, put your things away and you can get started.”

Gideon gave her a quick smile heading to the cloak room, putting her jacket and bag in one of the lockers before she quickly put her hair up.

The past year had been wonderful as Gideon worked out what she wanted to do with her life now she had it back. Because she had the funds it meant Gideon could take the time to decide what she wanted to do.

Clarissa had needed some help with the summer day care at the university, so Gideon volunteered and had a lot of fun for the six weeks, although now knew for certain she did not want to be a teacher or work with children full time.

Stepping into the playroom Gideon smiled to see the children playing, frowning to see one little boy sitting away from the rest. He was curled in a corner reading a book, a teddy bear held against him.

“Clarissa,” she motioned to the older woman, “Who is that?”

“Oh, Jonas,” Clarissa sighed, “A lovely little boy. He and his father just moved here a few weeks ago, they’re renting the house. Very shy, he spends most of his time reading and only joins in games very reluctantly.”

Gideon sighed as she watched the sweet little boy.

“Why don’t you see if you can interest him in the computer game you had them all playing the last time you were here?” Clarissa suggested.

Giving Clarissa a smile Gideon walked to the little boy and took a seat on the floor beside him.

“Hello,” she said kindly, “I’m Gideon.”

The little boy looked up from his book and studied her for a moment before whispering, “My name is Jonas Hunter.”

“Hello, Jonas Hunter,” Gideon smiled warmly at him, “I see you’re here all alone…”

“Not alone,” Jonas interrupted her, “Gary Bear is here.”

“My apologies,” Gideon said, “Well, I have a fun game for the computer that I thought you and Gary Bear would like to try. Do you want to see if you can find the treasure?”

Giving her a thoughtful look Jonas finally nodded.

  “If you want to go,” Gideon offered as Clarissa checked her watch, “It’s only ten minutes before we close. The final few parents will be here soon. I can lock up for you.”

“Are you sure?” Clarissa asked.

Smiling at her friend Gideon nodded, “You and Martin rarely have a night out. Go, I’ll be fine.”

And she was.

But as it neared five o’clock one child was still waiting, getting more and more upset as time ticked on.

“Your father will be here soon,” Gideon assured the little boy, “You know that.”

Jonas hugged his bear tighter than before, “He won’t go away, like my mummy?”

“Oh no,” Gideon gently stroked his back soothingly, understanding why the child was so quiet. She had been sixteen when she lost her parents, at least she understood why they were no longer with her.

Gideon quickly found the number for Jonas’ father and called, frowning that it went straight to voicemail. What kind of father was this man? Checking the alternate contact for the boy Gideon quickly dialled.

“Hello?” the voice came.

“Hello, Mr Constantine,” Gideon said, “This is the day care centre. I’m trying to locate Jonas Hunter’s father. We close at five which we’re now a few minutes past and unfortunately he’s not answering his phone.”

She heard the swearing on the other side before the man came back on.

“I will get him down there,” he told her before hanging up.

Turning back to Jonas, Gideon gave him a comforting smile, “Your dad will be here soon. How about I tell you a story while we wait?”

  Rip rubbed his eyes tiredly as he went over the papers for the first test that he’d given to his freshman class. There were days it took everything he had just to get out of bed in the morning and not stay hidden under his covers.

Today was especially hard. It was his wedding anniversary and Rip was doing all he could to ignore it. Which meant turning his phone off since the stupid social media sites kept sending reminders to him.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” John snapped marching into the office making him jump.

Rip looked up at his friend confused, “What?”

“It’s after five, you’re meant to have picked up Jonas,” John yelled at him.

Frowning Rip shook his head, “It can’t be. The alarm on my phone would have gone off. I…” he trailed off as he looked up at the clock in the corner of the office, “Oh, no.”

“Go,” John told him, “I’ll put everything away, grab your stuff and meet you at the car.”

Nodding gratefully Rip bounded out the office and down to the day care centre, horrified that he hadn’t realised the time and annoyed his stupid phone alarm didn’t work when it was switched off. Reaching the door, he hit the buzzer. It opened to a petite woman with long chestnut brown hair and storm-grey eyes who had a frown on her face.

“I’m Rip Hunter,” he said, “I’m here to pick up…”

“Daddy!!!”

Rip crouched and caught his son, hugging him tightly with relief as the little boy attached himself to Rip.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the boy wrapped around him like a limpet, “It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay,” managing to get Jonas to release his grip a little, Rip gave his son a small smile, “It was just Daddy being silly and not knowing how to work his phone. It won’t happen again.”

Jonas sighed, “Promise?”

Rip kissed his son’s forehead, “Of course. Do you want to introduce me to your new friend?”

Still leaning against Rip’s shoulder, Jonas said softly, “This is Gideon. She’s very nice and very pretty.”

  Gideon smiled at the introduction the little boy gave. Her anger at the child’s father for not appearing on time melted away as she watched them together. Mr Hunter looked so tired and was genuinely upset that he hadn’t been here on time.

“Hello, Gideon,” the man said softly, “I’m Rip. I am so sorry that I kept you back.”

“It’s fine,” Gideon told him softly, “Jonas and I got to read some of my favourite books.”

He gave her a quick smile, which made him look so much younger. He wasn’t handsome per se, not in the pretty boy way a lot of the men she seemed to know were but instead his face had character beneath the neat beard.

“Okay, little man,” Rip said softly, “Did you do anything today to bring home?”

Jonas nodded, “I made a drawing.”

Gideon watched the boy slide down from his father’s arms and run over to where his drawing on the small table.

“Again, I’m sorry,” Rip told her softly.

Feeling a little sad for him as it was clear how much he adored his little boy, Gideon gave him a warm smile.

“It was not a problem,” she told him, “Jonas is a joy to spend time with. He’s very smart.”

“Takes after his mother,” Rip murmured sadly before shaking himself, “We should go and let you close up.”

He offered his hand to Jonas who came running over, drawing in one hand and Gary Bear in his other. Rip took the drawing and rolled it before taking Jonas’ free hand to leave.

When they left her alone, Gideon retrieved her bag and jacket before locking up. Walking to the parking lot she smiled finding that Jonas and his father were still walking along the corridor themselves.

“Hi, Gideon,” Jonas beamed up at her, “Are you going to your car?”

Gideon nodded, “I am.”

“You can walk with us,” he told her, adding quite seriously, “A lady should be escorted.”

Confused Gideon looked at the man standing there who looked just as bemused.

“Don’t ask me,” Rip said before asking his son, “Where did you hear that?”

Jonas looked up at him, “Grandma’s tv stories.”

“That makes sense,” Rip smiled very slightly starting them walking properly.

To her surprise, Jonas took Gideon’s hand, “Daddy said Uncle John is waiting for us. He’s very funny.”

Rip shrugged, “It depends on your point of view.”

Gideon smiled as she listened to the little boy chatter away about his uncle, looking over at the man walking on the other side of the little boy. The sadness that surrounded him alleviated slightly as he smiled down at his son. The moment they reached the cars, Jonas ran to the man standing waiting there.

“Thank you,” Rip said to her continuing to walk with Gideon to her car, “This is the first time since we came here that I’ve seen him engage with someone other than myself or John.”

“It was my pleasure to spend time with him,” Gideon told him sincerely.

Rip stared at her for a moment before giving her a quick nod, “Goodnight.”

Climbing into her car, Gideon watched the family for a moment before starting her car and heading home.

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #timeship #jonas hunter #john constatine #clarissa stein #martin stein

[phenyxsnest]

To Have and To Hold Ch 33

Up on the balcony, North and Zeus were still talking in circles.

“But they all have to have different...needs, don't they?” Zeus asked. “How do you possibly keep them all satisfied?”

North looked at him blankly again.

Behind them, Sandy was silently laughing so hard he was rolling on his back, legs kicking in the air.

“Am...not sure what you mean,” North said. “Are all grown spirits, can handle own needs. Do not need me hovering over them.”

A moment of anger passed over Zeus' face, quick as a ripple in water, too fast for North to catch. The watching yeti did, and eased themselves that much closer.

Zeus was all smiles a moment later, as if the frustration had never occurred. “Come now, you can tell me. Isn't it difficult? Do they really all know about each other?”

North continued to stare at him blankly, though some of the yeti were now holding back their own snickers. Sandy was dying, still silent, in the background. This was more blatant than Zeus ever got, he must be so much more frustrated than Sandy had realized.

North gestured blankly down towards the dance floor, where Tooth and Bunny were involved in some sort of intense dance routine, a surprise to everyone who had only met Bunny in work mode, which was much crankier and more intimidating than relaxed Bunny.

Katherine was speaking to a group of spirits in one corner of the ballroom while Nightlight hovered over Loki, Thor, and a small group of Norse spirits and Jack spoke to someone they couldn't quite make out, partially hidden as they both were by shadow.

“Would be difficult if they did not,” North said.

Zeus looked about ready to scream, and out of North's line of sight, at least one yeti face palmed.

Continue on AO3 // Continue on FF.net

#rise of the guardians #phenyx writes #the marriage fic thing #comments are love

[quietpagan]

What Falls and What Grows, ch. 12

   “ …The weed, tough

As the rock it leaps against,

Unless plucked to the last

    Live fiber

Will plunge up through dark again.

The weed also has the desire

    To make clean,

Make pure, there against the rock."

-  Lucien Stryk

 Anglia began to suspect the moment they turned down the alley. She opened her mouth to yell but Alexandra punched her hard in the chest, knocking her to the ground. She gasped for air and rolled out of the way just as Alexandra’s foot stomped the stone where her neck had been. Alex aimed a kick, but Anglia caught her foot and pushed her off balance, and they rolled behind a pile of old boxes, the cobblestones scraping their arms and faces.

Alex pulled back to hit her again, but Anglia swept her arm up in an arch and a line of red streaked across Alex’s breasts. She automatically withdrew but landed a solid slap to Anglia’s face.

“I don’t want to kill you,” she growled, grabbing the other woman’s hands before she could use her knife again.

“I work for the Trollhunter,” she said.

“You bloody traitor,” Anglia spat, baring lengthening teeth. Alex pulled her torso up and slammed the other Changeling’s head again against the ground. Anglia’s eyes glowed in anger and Alexandra simmered hers in return.

“Dammit, woman, I’m trying to help you! You think that Gunmar’s return will do anything for us? At least the Trollhunter won’t kill me if I make a single mistake!” “Gunmar made us everything we are,” Anglia replied. Alex’s grip on her shoulders tightened and Anglia cried out as claws pierced her skin.

“You think that’s a good thing? We had actual families, damn you! People who cared about us! We used to fit. Now even the ones who created us treat lower than goblin filth!” Anglia spat in her eye; the sensation sent Alexandra into a brief panic, the remembrance of Bular’s sword on her face running through her mind. The other Changeling used the distraction to unbalance her, standing and grabbing Alex by the shoulders so that she could throw her against the wall.

“Gunmar made me strong,” Anglia sneered, her lengthening fingernails scoring lines into Alex’s flesh. “And he rewards those of us who serve him with loyalty. I suppose you would know nothing of that.”

The pain was irritating, but Alexandra couldn’t transform or don her armor; if Anglia survived, if she got away, then she would know what Alex looked like, could spread the word – her position as Trollhunter was powerful but fragile, and would not survive her being exposed as a Changeling.

She pushed against the wall to dislodge the other woman. Anglia came rushing at Alex, swift and deadly with her knife held before her, but Alex was the stronger; with her two forms beginning to merge her human body slowly gained strength and durability, and when she grabbed Anglia’s arm she twisted it and broke it at the elbow. Anglia didn’t have time to cry out before she was grabbed into a headlock, Alexandra’s forearm steadily putting pressure on her throat. She kicked behind at Alex’s legs, but slowly, slowly sank onto the ground, until Alex could no longer feel her pulse.

She took a minute to catch her breath, and then rummaged for the dead woman’s wallet, removing her jewelry and scattering her purse across the alley. She emerged from the alley with a minimum of dishevelment, and she tucked Anglia’s knife in her pants and walked away, only pausing to throw the other Changeling’s earrings and horrible troll-tooth necklace over the side of a bridge.

 The gyre trip to Bath was quick, but AAARRRGGHH still needed a few moments to settle his stomach. Alexandra gave him the rest of her coffee and bought another for herself with Anglia’s stolen money. It tasted more bitter than usual. The scratches on her shoulders were hidden by a wide scarf, and the memory of them itched.

Blinky, once he was assured that she was alright, looked almost unforgivably excited. He began spouting off trivia and tidbits of fact about the baths and the lore of, but although AAARRRGGHH was as engaged as he could be, Alex only nodded in the appropriate places. A wave of exhaustion had hit her very suddenly, and all she wanted to do was curl up in bed – preferably on the other side of the country, where she wouldn’t have to be Trollhunter – and sleep for a few good days. Her fight with Anglia had left her with a significantly more sour tone than usual, and she was tired and disinterested in a way that ‘exhausted’ just didn’t cover.

Blinky’s chattering – something that she would have been invested in on any other day – was annoying rather than engaging, and she gripped her stone coffee mug tightly to keep from throwing it at his head. She was tired and grumpy and didn’t need to raise suspicion by taking it out on someone else.

“…And it was believed that the waters, once drunk, could cure a myriad of illnesses and…Master Alexandra, are you listening?”

Alex almost nodded automatically before she caught herself. She blinked her eyes open and looked at Blinky’s annoyed face.

“No,” she said. “No, I’m actually not. Is any of this going to help us find Vendel’s contact?” Blinky huffed, just as the gyre began to slow.

“To know how to handle anything, Master Alexandra, we must first understand the history and context of what we are dealing with. It does not do to simply run in without any awareness of the state of affairs of our situation.”

Alex dismounted the gyre with a snarl, and knew Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were exchanging glances. The cuts on her shoulders and chest itched and pulled, there was an irritating hum just under her skin that she couldn’t shake, and she really just wanted to punch something. The fact that Blinky was right didn’t help, especially since he had just admonished her like a child.

They had been dropped off under the very same bridge Alex had used to discard Anglia’s personal effects, a glowing portal connecting the gyre trail to the outside. A quick, sickening pang echoed in her chest and she pushed it away, climbing up the wall and watching the various night-goers until it was clear.

Alexandra still carried the runestone that Blinky had bought to disable the cameras, and after sneaking over to the baths they quietly scaled the outside of the building.

The statues standing above the main pool eerily reminded Alexandra of the stone bodies of the fallen Hunters, and though they were beautiful to look at she avoided glancing at them. Blinky, oddly silent, seemed to know his way.

There was a clamor behind them, then a soft sigh and the flicker of a flashlight. Alexandra whirled around to see AAARRRGGHH holding an unconscious human guard, lifting him in the air by one ankle. AAARRRGGHH gave her a sheepish smile before he softly tucked the man against the railing and ate the flashlight. Alex’s nerves were still on edge as he quietly rumbled past her to follow Blinky down the stairs. She cursed herself and took after him, shaking herself to try and get rid of her shivers. She needed to calm the fuck down. She should have been on the lookout for a night-guard; she should have seen the man. They very nearly got caught because of her frazzled state of mind.

Blinky led them to a room with a deep, circular pool, one that Alex had glanced at but passed by. The water was pitch black but it shimmered with greens and golds from the nightlights. Blinky hopped over the glass barrier and passed his hand through the water. It came up dry.

“The pool is much deeper than it appears to humankind,” he said, turning behind him and obviously enjoying the looks in incredulity that Alex knew she and AAARRRGGHH were wearing. “In reality is it a local portal, leading to a pocket dimension of similar rooms. Come along, my friends.”

He stepped forward and disappeared into the pool without a splash. Alex swore and jumped over the barrier, following hot on his heels. She didn’t know if there were any goblins left guarding the area, or if the area had been trapped…

With a rush of an odd dark-light, she landed exactly where she had jumped, as if on solid ground, but in a different room, the rounded walls and engaged columns embedded with glowing gems and uncut crystals. A soft thundering made her scamper to the side before AAARRRGGHH landed nearly on top of her.

“Blinky be careful,” he murmured. Blinky, who was wrist-deep in several files of papers, nodded vigorously.

There was no troll slumped over the desk, nor a body hidden behind the clean lines of shelves and books, but the air had the unmistakable odor of troll blood.

How had Anglia done it, Alexandra wondered vaguely. Her knife? Her claws? She resisted the urge to scratch at her wounds, and thought about the woman’s very sharp and prominent teeth. Had she disposed of the body in the river just a few blocks down, or was it still hidden somewhere…

The tidy office was only sullied by a few loose papers scattered on the floor, and Blinky bent to pick them up.

“The stone was certainly here,” he murmured. “As was our contact. Although it seems…”

Two of his fingers trailed over a little spot of purple blood on a shelf, the wood cracked as if someone had been thrown against it. The rubbery scent of goblin lingered on the walls.

“…That she may be here no longer. We need to find out if her attackers managed to locate the stone, and whatever other information our contact may have possessed.”

They shuffled quietly about the small office, none of them willing to make too much noise. AAARRRGGHH took his time looking through the collection of texts on the back wall, while Blinky looked over the contacts’ papers. Alex busied herself engaging both nose and eyes, running her fingers over the roughened walls and examining the various artifacts and collections for clues, while her mind was damnably occupied elsewhere.

She hadn’t noticed the pool was deeper than it was supposed to be. Even in her human form, she could see the troll magic, and she hadn’t noticed the difference. How much else had she missed?

Her fingers dented the wooden lid of a decorated box, trying to jiggle the key without making too much of a noise, while trying to control her temper.

Really, she thought at the blasted thing. Really?

AAARRRGGHH took it from her when she put it down with deliberate care. She handed him the key. The box sounded empty anyway and she was utterly useless. Her nerves were frazzled and she couldn’t get rid of the hum under her skin, and her exhaustion was making it difficult to concentrate on their given task. The fact that AAARRRGGHH apparently could open the stupid little box with no complications didn’t help.

“Blinky…”

Alex turned at the tone of his voice. His back was to her, but she heard him drop the box. His arm began to shake, and she silently walked around him and took the stone out of his hand. Blinky came jogging up, looking ready to explode in excitement before he caught the stricken look on his companion’s face.

Alexandra retrieved the discarded box and replaced the stone, giving it to Blinky to stow in one of his pockets. To AAARRRGGHH she gave her scarf, when his eyes began to water. They left the office and the baths in silence.

AAARRRGGHH made a concerned grunt at the scratches on her shoulders as they anxiously waited in line for the London Bridge, but she waved him off with her best ‘comforting’ smile.

“Bit of a bar fight,” she said.

 Vendel did not take the news of his contact’s death well, and he was less than happy about having a piece of Killahead Bridge handed to him.

“I had hoped…” he’d murmured to himself, his form disappearing within the lit interior of the Hearthstone.

Alex left before Blinky could rally himself to make a motivational speech. Her bag and pockets were heavy with the books she had stolen from the Baths, and she dropped them on the bed to mix with Kanjigar’s collection, ignoring the call of the library.

There were a few people who called to her for help or advice on her way to the entrance to the market, and she quietly helped them settle their problems. After Blinky’s ‘Changeling’ clusterfuck many more of the denizens of Trollmarket were sympathetic and encouraging to her, and although she appreciated the rise in reputation the changeability of everyone’s opinion was rather disheartening. Less than a week ago the majority of Trollmarket thought her cowardly and unorthodox for letting Draal live, but here she was, advising a family on the best way to expand their living quarters for their newest child. It didn’t matter that she had no clue what she was talking about – they still asked. She couldn’t decide quite how she felt about it.

Noon was rising in the human world when she was, at length, allowed time to herself, and she walked to the museum with its warmth on her back. A brief stop in a tourist shop and the bathroom of an ice cream store lent her a decent disguise; she bought her museum ticket and wandered around with all the care of an careless art student.

It was amazing, really, exactly how much Nomura was able to get past the radar. The mural featuring boars with six eyes really caught Alex’s interest, as did several pieces of troll-made weaponry. Had nobody questioned these? Had Nomura somehow explained their oddities into the realms of benign eccentricity? Arcadia was a melting pot of ‘interesting’ characters and history – had it been on purpose?

The notion that Strickler, Nomura, Bular, and the hoard of goblins they kept were not alone as the only magical denizens of Arcadia made her shiver. Trollmarket was safe in its underground nest, but if Bular had an entire army hidden on the surface it did not mark well for the people living in the city.

goes up and tries to find out more about he Changeling community and plans;

although she’d known they were tracking down the pieces, she didn’t know they had actually found any and were building the bridge in Arcadia.

She regrets completely distancing herself from the Changeling community; she should have taken on a different identity, or kept in touch as someone else, or kept up her information. Now she has to guess on who is current with Bular and Strickler and who’s fallen by the wayside, because she’s not sure who she can safely impersonate in order to infiltrate.

Alexandra dutifully sketched everything that caught her eye, aimlessly perambulating around the museum until she reached the exhibits that were under construction. There was a sign, but no door, no rope, which seemed hopelessly easy; either Nomura was that confident about nobody seeing anything, or she had lost a few brain cells since the last time Alex had seen her. Either way, it was broad daylight, and Alexandra took the opening.

She scampered up to a half-finished Viking exhibit, looking under her lashes at the rest of the room while she sketched it. It was rather empty, a little messy, but although there was no gigantic bridge there was a distinct tinge of goblin, and perhaps the tingling remnant of magic. Boxes were piled against one wall and Alex carelessly ambled over to them, adding a little shading to her drawing of the Viking ship’s prow. Every box was sealed, and she dared not try and pry one open.

Around the corner of the room were yet more boxes, some of them quite sizeable. Magic lingered in the air.

A very soft, deep breathing echoed through the space, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Where did Bular stay during the day?

“Hey!” Alex spun around, clutching her drawing pad to her chest. Nomura grabbed her shoulder and pulled her close.

“I don’t believe you belong in this part of the museum, miss.”

“B-but my thesis,” Alex whimpered, showing her the drawing with shaking hands.

“I just need a few more minutes – “

“Out.”

Nomura quickly but quietly steered her to the exit, pushing her none-too-gently to the public parts of the museum.

“Are you the curator? Can I come back? I just need another look at the detail work that’sreallyallIask – “

“That part of the museum is closed,” Nomura hissed, releasing Alex’s shoulder with a firm shove. She took a deep inhale and seemed to calm a bit. Alexandra smoothed her hair and glasses, her eyes wide and glassy.

“Please – “

“It will be open to the public next season.”

Nomura’s tone brook no argument, and Alex left in a flurry of tears and muttered curses. She didn’t stop walking until she was far into the town, where she ducked into a bank and removed her disguise in the bathroom. Sketchpad, glasses, and lacy overshirt were dumped in the trash, and she pulled her hair into a tight bun before washing off as much makeup as she could. From art student to shabby woman, with a blocky, angular face, a little too tall and far too toothy. She exited the bank with a carefree air, and the goblin that she spotted in the bushes didn’t give her a second glance.

  One of the things she had learned early on was to never think while playing a part. If she had dwelled on her worry about being caught, or her regret about never establishing an identity in the Changeling echelons, or her questions about the current hierarchy in the ranks, she would never have gotten far. But back in Trollmarket she could dwell, and dwell she did.

She heavily regret never constructing a new identity for herself, one that she could merge into the community of Changelings around the world. She had cut herself off as a safety measure as soon as she could, but now she didn’t know who ranked what, who was where, who was even alive or dead or available for her to impersonate. If she had stayed, if she had made herself into someone important, she could have gathered so much more information, been privy to so many more secrets. The Changeling community was not exactly close-knit, every one of them being suspicious bastards, but knowing who was dead or not was extremely easy to confirm, making impersonation a rather difficult and convoluted job. She would have to first find another Changeling, then learn where they ranked, then learn who knew of their current appearance and location, then find a way to incapacitate them long enough for her to impersonate...simple spying would be easier.

Stricklander had always been one of the highest in the community, but Nomura had not. Alexandra remembered her from the Darklands, a mere trainer to those who had survived to be strong enough to carry a weapon. Now she was in Arcadia, housing the son of Gunmar in her museum. Did she outrank Stricklander now, or were they equals? Half of the time it depended on Bular or Gunmar’s mood, anyway.

She seemed to have control of the goblins in any case, unless wherever Stricklander was based simply didn’t have the room. But she was housing Bular…

Alex hadn’t seen any sign of a reconstructed bridge, although she hadn’t examined the contents of all of those boxes, but she knew what magic felt like and there was some strong magic going on in the museum. That, and the fact that Bular had his minions looking for pieces of the Bridge, was more than enough for her to reason that they were actually under construction, or at least had the material gathered in preparation for.

But before she went to Blinky with her suspicions, she needed to do a little research.

She bought a small dinner and tea, and wandered back to Kanjigar’s quarters. What had been fed to her in the Darklands about the Bridge and its history and magic was, much like Gunmar’s origin, probably twisted and misconstrued for propaganda.

Troll Bridges Across the European Continent, The Final Days: an account of the victory of Deya the Deliverer, and Historical Magical Artifacts all looked promising, and Alex hauled them from Kanjigar’s shelves for perusal. The activity of Trollmarket was a distant buzz in the far reaches of the cavern where the former Hunter’s quarters were located, and the business of her thoughts quieted some in the peace.

Her destroyed eye ached, and when she rubbed at it she noticed that the shivering hum in her chest was gone. The thrum of the Heartstone had replaced it without her noticing.

An hour, two geographical texts, and one Welsh troll census later, she found the location of the Heartstone that was located under Wales, where she had been born. Less than a hundred miles away from Bath, underneath the Vale of Neath and the Craig y Ddinas, the Dinas Rock, found within.

Her heartstone, which she had not felt for centuries, had been thrumming in her blood, and she hadn’t realized until she was across the damn ocean.

She’d been less than a hundred miles from her birthplace. From the place where she had been taken. From where she never had visited, nor had thought she would ever visit.

The Bridge conspiracy can wait an hour.

Blinky had several volumes in his library featuring the names and births of trolls all over the world; he was one of many record-keepers. Alex marched into his library and took every record-book written between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries before combing through Kanjigar’s own records and books.

Within twenty minutes she was neck-deep in Arthurian legend and Welsh mythology, and after four hours was taking shaky notes with both right hands, listing comparisons between myths and checking story against story.

Her eyes began to itch and droop after several hours of reading, but she found something in the third volume of genealogies belonging to Welsh trolls and their families. Most of the lines were long dead, though a few still remained around her original Hearthstone. There had been a mass egress of trolls from the British Heartstones and although there were a few records missing during the time of the migration, Alex managed to find a record of her birth family.

She wanted to throw something.

“Lineage of Daghildr the Dangerous, born 1343, died 1630.

Born app. 1050. Daughter of Dara, daughter of Drysi, and Finnyr, son of Ormr. Died 1678.

Children by Rollo, son of Seneca: Nerthuz Alexius, born app. 1338

Grandchildren by Gruffudd, son of Drusus: Blodwen Alexius, born app. 1629, died 1645; Volundr Alexius, born app. 1647, died 1802.”

And there she was. A single, incorrect entry, next to a brother she’d never known about.

Alexandra put down her pencil before she snapped it.

They’d written her off as dead.

Logically, she knew it was expected; not one entry, in any of the books, had logged a child down as ‘stolen by Gumm-Gumms’, but still. They marked her as dead, and to them, she was as good as.

She wondered very much how the many-armed Trollhunter had felt while seeing Alexandra in the Void, knowing that she was a Changeling and a member of her sister tribe.

Alexandra turned the page, and kept reading. The Trollhunter had given no indication, had offered no greeting. She’d probably never met Alexandra, even with the low birth rate of trolls, so one missing child from a different clan wouldn’t have…

…

…She picked up a different book.

I am not going to think about this.

Her mother was still alive, probably her father as well.

I am not going to think about this.

She wondered if her brother had been taken as well. She wondered if he was one of the Changed children too weak to survive or too slow or killed for sport or if she had killed him in competition or –

She was not going to think about this!

Alexandra threw the book across the room, vellum pages tearing free and scattering through the air.

Fuck them! Fuck all of them!

Hundreds of years of Trollhunters’ families littered the floor, and she had to refrain herself from going over and stomping on them, for all the good it would do.

“FUCK them!”

She remembered her family. In the aftermath of the war and the wake of the trolls’ sudden migration, protocols had been overlooked, rules had been ignored; Alex had been taken too late, assigned too early, given to a human family that was poorly-researched and sent in with minimal training. Most whelps were taken as infants, rarely over ten years old, when they were the most impressionable and more likely to forget their families. Alex had been small for her age and was taken too late. She remembered her family. She’d had time.

And they had written her off as dead. She was a shame to them the moment she was taken.

Like it was her goddamn fault. ..

Fervently she scanned through tomes and scrolls, barely taking anything in in her attempt to distract herself. Her lantern gently fluttered the walls with shadows as she absently re-arranged the bookshelves in order of color, glancing through anything with an interesting cover.

“…destroyer of the storm-sun,

beloved follower of the seeress…”

Kanjigar hadn’t marked her name down on his list of children stolen to the Darklands. Had she simply been overlooked? Had her family lied about what happened to her?

“…the seeds of Foeniculum vulgare are known to relieve ills of the stomach…”

How dare they write her off, as if she had done something shameful. Did they even mourn her? And what had killed off her brother? Had he been taken as well? Would she have met him in the Darklands, fought him, killed him…

“…None best the mighty power of she

To the Myrddin jewel beholden…”

She was the goddamn Trollhunter now. It didn’t matter now what they thought of her. Good or bad, she had ascended to the ‘highest of offices’, as Blinky said, had tricked her way into Trollmarket, had wounded the son of Gunmar…

“…And changed limb and form for war…”

Not a single GODdamn person was going to tell her that she wasn’t worthy when she had the amulet pulsing in her pocket, and she would be damned before she let anybody else throw her away like a dirty secret and

Wait

What…was that?

Alex re-opened the book she was shelving and slowly turned the pages, the light of her amulet translating the languages until she found what had caught her eye.

“Through stars and smoke lay many warriors slain

And haunting spirits’ cries all of stone and crystal shook

But fairest bane to darkest evil smote

And to her husband struck a mortal blow.

None best the mighty power of she

To the Myrddin gem beholden

In deadly light of day fearlessly strode the queen

And with dark arts changed limb and form for war.

Oh

OH…!

Alex spent a very long time reading and re-reading the Eddaic poems, and then ten minutes laying on Kanjigar’s nest, laughing until she ached and cried.

Deya the Deliverer had been a Changeling.

And absolutely no one knew.

  A/N: YOU WANT BACK-ALLEY MURDER, YOU GET BACK-ALLEY MURDER! Honestly I was just too tired to write it when I posted last time, so here it is today.

I love my job, but it’s damn exhausting, especially since we’ve only got two techs, including myself. Working nine days at a time is the norm, but we’ve had a couple of two- or three-week stretches without days off. It’s getting better now that we’re using different medications and we’re not managing the seizure of two thousand neglected animals, but I could barely keep awake today. It’s funny because I also can’t bring myself to sleep. I’m going to get less than four hours at the time of typing this and I CANNOT STOP. Why do I do this. Why do I do this. So if this chapter has a note of exhaustion, that’s why.

Take note that this is the first time Alex is being nice to Blinky without an ulterior motive.

Update: We finally got a new tech and the hurricane really cleared us out, but it’s, it’s, I’m sorry. I’m tired and I think I finally just got sick of having this chapter being unfinished. So this chapter was written out of pure spite. I wonder if that reflects in the writing. I’m so done with this chapter. I hope it’s alright because I’m just spitting it out and don’t want to see its face again for another bloody month.

I was going to have Alex be the granddaughter of the many-armed Trollhunter, but that would have been too neat, too nice. I want her to have this thing because she’s destined for it, not because it’s her destiny as the granddaughter of a Trollhunter or some-such.

Some of the poetry is taken out of the Prose Edda book Skáldskaparmál, which I literally just got straight off of Wikipedia. I had such a bitch time writing that damn poem so I hope it sounds okay.

The ‘art student’ disguise is a homage to xerios’s fanfic Burning Bridges, which can be found on AO3 and is super good. As a former art student I can actually say that we can get away with a lot of shit if you just bring a camera or a sketchpad.

And I’m just going to point out that the name ‘Deya’ means ‘destroyer of her husband’. Make of that what you will.

#trollhunters #drabble #blinky #aaarrrgghh #vendel

[bb-loves-boys]

Soon You’ll Come Home Chapter 7

Summary: Blaine and Kurt are married with two kids and at the point of their lives they would never imagine having another child. But then Blaine meets a young girl in the most unlikely way and after he learns about the abuse she suffered he can’t help but want to give her the family that loves and care’s for her like she needs.

Warning: mentioned child abuse

FF.NET

AOS3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 

Chapter 5 (Part 1)  Chapter 5 (Part 2) Chapter 6 

Bringing her home so close to Christmas might have been a mistake, Blaine begins to wonder as he watches Riley whimper and cry from her hiding spot behind the sofa, clutching her bleeding hand closely to her chest. He wants to wait her out and let her come to him, but there is a lot of blood so he isn’t positive how deep the cut is and if she needs stitches.

It’s been a little over a month since he and Kurt worked out a balanced routine with Riley. After Kurt explained his stress and why he was upset, Blaine had stepped back from being her sole care provider and let Kurt take over, while he worked on the legal matters and keeping the media away from the changes in their family. It no wonder Kurt was so upset and stressed, arguing with people on the phone and getting passed around having to re-explain his situation from beginning multiple times got annoying quick. Plus, all the rumors going around about why they are both absent from the theater and music world are a little disturbing and offensive. It took a couple weeks but they soon settled into a routine. Kurt went with Riley to her physical and occupational therapy appointments and Blaine was there after the psychiatrist is through with his hour and the nurses went through their routines with her.

It was a week before Christmas when they were allowed to bring her home as temporary foster parents. Eating on her own really helped push everyone to allow her to leave the hospital. Blaine and Kurt immediately canceled their plans of having their family staying with them for the holidays, much to his mother’s disappointment. To make it up to her they sent her and Carole on a cruise for the holidays.

It’s been four days now and it is not going near as well as Blaine had hoped it would. He didn’t expect miracles to happen, or something similar to a Christmas family movie, but he wasn’t expecting her to revert back to being petrified at any presence or movement, or for her to sleep on the floor rather than in her bed.

And now after cutting herself on a broken Christmas ornament she sat shoved tightly between the back of the sofa and the wall, crying over her bleeding hand.

“Riley, angel I’m sorry to do this, but I need to fix you hand” Blaine apologized before signaling Kurt to pull away the sofa, Blaine ready to catch in case she ran. Basically, they were cornering her.

He held her in his lap with one arm around her middle and the other holding her hand out for Kurt to clean up and look at.

“breathe,” he shushed her as she howled painfully and cried loudly, “breathe, breathe”

She calmed down only enough for Kurt to properly clean out her cut, his body physically relaxing when he found it to be a small cut they could easily fix at home. Blaine couldn’t even imagine what would have happened if she needed stiches.

Kurt began to hum, probably in hopes to calm everyone down, as he moved to clean the drying blood on the rest of her hand and wrist.

“Oliver hasn’t mentioned this yet, but we adopted him as well,” Kurt said offhandedly.

Blaine frowned in confusion, wondering why Kurt was bringing up Oliver’s adoption.

She squirmed at little at his voice, but her cries seemed to start to settle to small hiccups.

“And sometimes it makes him afraid and feel like no one wants him, but that isn’t true.” Kurt continued to explain. “We will always want him and love him. He is our son; he always was and always will be.” He finished fixing up her hand before looking her in the eyes. “We want you to be a part of this family, and it’s scary. But no matter what you do we; Blaine, me, Oliver, and Sophie; we will always love you. Even if you find we aren’t what you want or need, no matter where you are, we will always be your family and that means we will do anything to keep you safe.”

By the end Blaine thought he was going to cry. It’s one of Kurt’ strengths he knows when to say something and when to keep quiet, and Blaine can read Kurt the same way after all these years but he still hasn’t mastered it like Kurt. Maybe, it was in Kurt’s genetics.

Her tears were drying up and she was calming down, going limp and heavy in Blaine’s arms.

“How about we go take a nap? Try your bed out?” Kurt suggested packing away the disinfectant and band aids.

Blaine knew she was tired now, but he also knew how much she hated to sleep. He could only guess because of nightmares she would get, but he never knew for sure.

“I want to make a surprise before our nap, so the two of you either read or watch a movie while I get it ready?” Blaine announced handing Riley to Kurt.

He quickly grabbed the extra blankets and pillows in the hall closet, getting to work in her room. It shouldn’t take him too long, he use to do it all the time for Sophie and Oliver when they were younger. Sophie especially loved it, using it as an escape to cuddle and read her books. Oliver used it for much more adventures things, letting his imagine run in a more active way than Sophie did.

“Dad?” Oliver intrigued, knocking softly on the door.

“What’s up, Ollie?” Blaine asked stopping and giving Oliver his full attention.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, eyebrow raised, crossing his arms. Oliver may have been adopting but to Blaine he looked exactly like Kurt in these moments.

“Building a napping fort,” Blaine answered matter-of-factly, moving to continue his construction.

“Oh, I want to help!” He answered enthusiastically, surprising Blaine. Oliver and Sophie were at the age that they where they did everything with their friends and when they weren’t with their friends, they were locked up in their rooms doing who knows what. Blaine understood, he went through the same thing. In a few years Oliver, will be the age Blaine was when he met Kurt and once he met Kurt he never spent time at home or with his parents, unless he had to.

“Okay … uh do you want to put up the lights?” Blaine suggested trying and failing to keep the excitement out of his voice.

As they worked on the overdone fort they quietly sung Christmas carols, which of course Blaine started causing Oliver to rolls his eyes and hit him with a pillow, making Blaine only sing louder.

His singing was only interrupted by Kurt clearing his throat in the doorway, Riley in his arms, her head resting on her shoulder. She was obviously exhausted from her emotional outburst.

“I hope our surprise is finished, because if we wait any longer for nap time I won’t have time to prepare dinner.” Kurt said, adjusting Riley in his arms so she could see the fort made for her.

She blinked tiredly at it, and if Blaine’s eyesight was better he would see a slight smile spread on her lips.

Kurt placed her gently on her bed, and tried to lay down next to her to help her sleep in her bed, but instead she slid on carefully and crawled under the sheet walls to curl up in her usual corner.

Blaine frowned, thinning his lips in thought. “Ollie, why don’t you help your Papa with finishing decorating the tree.”

Oliver nodded, following Kurt’s lead out of the room.

Blaine carefully took down the fort, trying not to let it get to him. Riley watched him carefully once the wall that was blocking them was removed, her expression more curious than guarded.

Once the sheets and lights were down, Blaine took one of the extra pillows and blankets he used to build the fort and laid himself down on the floor next to her bed, attempting to settle in for a nap. He concentrated on his breathing to keep his mind off Riley not adjusting well. Just as his breathing even out he felt her cuddle up next to him, sticking herself in-between him and the bed. Under the bed was another one of her hiding places. Blaine tried to keep his breaths even and fought to pulled her close to him, he needed to allow her to initiate contact in these situations. She was getting better with others, but it was clear bedtime scared her the most. Blaine didn’t like to think too hard on the reasons, instead he put his focus on how to help her cope like giving her a nightlight and not closing the door.

Blaine figured he must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing he realized was someone was softly stroking his hair, Kurt.

Kurt shushed him softly.

He blinked awake to find Kurt laying on the other side on him, smiling softly. He looked over to his left to find Riley now using most of his side to sleep on, her fingers clutching his shirt tightly.

“I think it’s the best she’s ever slept,” Kurt whispered, careful not to wake her.

Blaine’s vision blurred slight and he felt Kurt’s lips on his cheek as a tear escaped.

“I know you doubt it, but you are doing a wonderful job at helping her,” He reassured. “It just takes time.”

Blaine nodded, afraid speaking would wake her.

Kurt inched closer to him, resting his head on Blaine’s chest and reaching over and keeping the tips of his fingers just out of reach of Riley’s writes. After a moment, he began to absent mindedly stroke his thumb softly. Blaine only guessed he was pretending he was reassuring Riley.

Kurt blushed and ducked his head, realizing Blaine had been watching him.  He pulled his hand back sitting up awkwardly.

“You’re going to regret sleeping on the floor when you back starts killing you,” he teased lightly.  

Blaine could only hold back a small laugh and shrug his free shoulder, because honestly if it means Riley got her first good sleep he didn’t mind how bad his back was going to kill him once he got up.

Chapter 8

#klaine fanfiction #Klaine fic #klaine #future!klaine #married!Klaine #daddy!klaine #klaine au #AU!Klaine

[adultstories4u]

Thick as thieves. That’s the only way you could really describe the two of them. Cindy and Zoe were best friends. The two of them had been running around since the seventh grade and now they were entering their junior year of high school. They were 16 years old and had the whole world ahead of them.

Now, of the two, Cindy my 16-year-old daughter was definitely the ringleader. Cindy stands about 5 foot nine, with the skinny little body, and plenty of curves to look at. She is very outgoing, with a spunky attitude, that attracted a lot of attention. That in conjunction with her beautiful, tan long legs, wavy sandy brown hair, and topped off with two of the most perfect breasts, any man could ever have had the privilege of laying eyes on. She truly was something to behold. She always had been one of those girls, who was the center of attention whenever she walked in the room.

Now, Zoe on the other hand was a much more introverted and her reserved behavior hinted to us, whispers of a devilish mystery. Her dad passed away when she was very young and always seemed to gravitate towards me in the time that she spent in our home. Because she spent so much time with us, I always considered her and treated her much like my own daughter. She stands about 5 foot six, was a petite frame. Her breasts were just a fraction smaller then Cindy’s but very much enough to do plenty of damage.

My wife Meredith and I had been married about 20 years. I had a relatively successful home business which gave me the luxury of spending most of my days, being able to spend time with the rest of my family, and at the same time get the things done that I needed for the business.

Zoe spent most of her time in our house, and doing things with our family. The girls were always up to something. They spent just as much time laughing, as they did crying it seemed. The two girls always seem to find something to complain about with a relationship to their bodies. I held the unenviable task of building them up with compliments.

Advertisements Cindy always complained that her ass was too small. And Zoe would counter her by pointing out that her own boobs were much smaller than she would like. The complaining would go on for sometime, but inevitably would end up in laughs and a tight embrace, as the two of them wrapped their arms around me to show their appreciation for my words. Oh, how those hugs, would leave me in a great need. They were usually accompanied by a quick exit to the nearest unoccupied bathroom and the quick indulgence of sexual self pleasure.

I always felt that between the two of them they made the perfect woman. Cindy had some killer tits, but Zoe’s pouty ass was something to make any man lust after. I had always thought to myself, that if I was a younger man I would chase after either one of them. Even then, I would catch myself in a semi-fantasizing trance thinking about what I could do them if I had the chance. And then shaking my head, I would shrug and say, “My God, it’s your daughter and her best friend, get a hold of yourself man!”

Despite my best effort’s however, it became increasingly hard to ignore the fact that the girls were developing into beautiful young women. I found this task especially difficult, considering how often Zoe stayed the night in our home. Normally Cindy would share a room with her younger sister, but because there were only two beds, the two of them would almost always sleep out in the front room on the couches.

Remarkably of the situation I found myself in was about to become even more of a temptation that I could’ve ever possibly imagined.

Earlier that morning my wife Meredith had gotten an emergency phone call from her sister. She packed her bags immediately, and I drove her and our youngest daughter to the airport, where she wished me luck for the rest of the weekend. And so was fate would have it, I found myself home alone with the two girls, who had been particularly mischievous in the previous days.

Summers in California as you can imagine bring plenty of heat, and this weekend was looking to be no different. Cindy and Zoe spent the better part of the day sunning themselves out by the pool. I watch them carefully from the second story of our home in my office. It wasn’t long before giggling and laughing the two of them had shed their bikini tops, shamelessly displaying their firm teenage breasts, to anyone who might be peeking over the fence, or, watching high above, from their office.

Sex stories: Step Son Cum Inside Me It had been quite sometime since I had any form of sexual relief. Meredith had lost interest in such things a few years ago, so I had pretty much resorted to my own thoughts, and the pages of illicit magazines. But now here before me, were two beautiful, and very live bodies. What was better then the alluring temptation of forbidden pleasure.

Lowering my trunks, I immediately went to work rubbing the length of my already rigid cock. I continued at maddening pace, as I watched the two girls shifting around on their lounge seats, with their wonderful femininity glistening in the afternoon sun. Just then I saw Zoe glance up towards at my office. I froze, but it just seemed to be only that, just a glance. With that I continued at the object of my desire until I had expelled all of my pleasure into a pile on the ground.

It wasn’t long before the two girls, made their way into the house. Obviously they had returned their tops, but the memory of my sinfulness and the image of their perfect bodies, remained etched in my brain, as they greeted me with barely anything covering their small teenage bodies.

“We want pizza Dad!” They squealed! Zoe had become accustomed call me dad, and quite frankly it warmed my heart that she thought of me as such. To hear them now on call me dad now, only caused significant jump, from the member that was now neatly tucked away in my trunks.

“Looks like we’re having pizza!” I said. “Now if you’ll just let me go,” I laughed, “I can order some!”

Giggling, Cindy and Zoe, released their death grip from me and I marched off in the other room to order a couple of pies.

I could hear their continued laughter, and scattered whispers, as I ordered up some dinner from the local pizza establishment.

By the time dinner arrived, the girls had slipped out of their swimsuits, and were wearing a few of my old, oversize T-shirts, thar I frequently had lying around the house. Like most girls, they had on just panties and no bra. I could confirm this when occasionally Zoe or Cindy would bend down to pick something up from the floor. The tail of their T-shirt’s would hike up just enough for me to see a pair of lacy panties and two cute cheeks poking out. The outline of a pair of erect nipples was just noticeable under the thin fabric of the old shirts they wore.

Like a couple typical teenage girls, with no boys around, they had devoured their share of the pizza in no time at all. It was getting late and the next thing I knew the two of them had begun to make preparations in the living room to settle down for their nightly ritual of Netflix and various snacks.

I was exhausted, saying my good nights, I proceeded up the stairs, in great need of a nice cold shower. As I made my way to the bedroom, I passed by the laundry room, and there in typical fashion of my daughter lay the two bikini’s that the girls had thrown down after changing into their night clothes. I paused for a moment, bent down and picked up the garment. Lifting the piece up to my face, the sweet aroma of young girls filled my nostrils. I smiled, returned it to the basket and after a nice shower settled myself down to sleep.

I tossed and turned, and even though I had managed to relieve myself of the sexual strain that I previously felt, the visions of my young teenage daughter and her best friend danced in my head. I found it extremely difficult to finally drift off to sleep and just when I had, or so it seemed, I was awakened by strange noises, most definitely coming from downstairs.

I stumbled out of bed, half asleep, muttering under my breath as I made my way to the staircase. The girls must still be awake I thought, and since it was relatively dark it wouldn’t matter that I was only dressed in boxer shorts. I reasoned that I could just tell them it was time to quiet down, and get back to some much need rest. At the top of her staircase there is somewhat of a balcony that overlooks the front of the house. When I reach that clearing, I realized, that the noises I had previously heard, we’re definitely that of a sexual nature.

Sex stories: Caught Masturbating by Mom Oh my God I thought to myself, could it be that one or more of the girls was pleasuring themselves. From the silhouette of a nightlight, I could see the tall torso of my daughter Cindy, squatting on the couch. It was clear that Cindy had removed her shirt. I could see in the dim light her two alert breasts swaying gently as she dipped down and her head disappeared again. Then I heard it again. The distinctive but quiet sighs and then pleasure filled groans, that rippled through the night air. It must be Zoe I thought, and then like a slap to the face I realized what was happening. Cindy, my beautiful little 16-year-old daughter, was pleasuring her best friend.

I crept carefully down the wooden stairs to get a better look. it was easy because of the angle of the living room where they had settled down, to get a better view of the two girls. And there just as sure, as I relate this story to you now, lay Zoe on her back, naked as the day she was born. Her beautiful fair skin glowed nicely in the summer night. Her legs were bent slightly at the knees, and her legs opened up, as Cindy lowered head once again attacking Zoe’s young pussy with her tongue.

“God that feels good Cindy!” Zoe groaned. “You taste amazing!” Cindy hissed. “The only thing that would feel better, right now….,” Zoe paused as she looked up at Cindy and with a smile on her face said, “Would be to feel your dad’s thick cock pounding me relentlessly!” “You know, she said, I’m pretty sure he was watching us earlier today out by the pool.” “Yeah right, you wish! retorted Cindy, “For as much as we tease him I’m surprised he hasn’t ripped our clothes off by now!”

“Geeze Cindy, exclaimed Zoe, “You’re such a kinky little slut!” “Well,” retorted Cindy, “It takes one to know one!” The two laughed and Zoe bit her bottom lip as my daughter continued the attack on her best friends lush wet slit.

I honestly couldn’t believe what I was hearing, as I listened to the two girls talk. It should’ve been the worst nightmare for a father, but instead and not reluctantly it was like music to my ears. My girls, my beautiful two daughters, as I liked to call them were lusting after their daddy! And they were not shy about it either, making the best of the situation that they didn’t quite have access to yet. I guess they figured, the worst case scenario would be, having an orgasm at the expense of each other’s mouth.

I was determined to give them what they wanted. But more appropriately, that which I had also been pining for more than two years. And as chance would have it, they didn’t know, but they had provided me with the perfect opportunity.

I slowly reached down and peeled off the only thing that kept me from being completely naked, my boxer shorts. My cock was and had already been for sometime harder then ever before in my life. It throbbed, and ached for release, and as I inched my way closer, creeping carefully up from behind Cindy‘s back, suddenly Zoe‘s eyes widened. Cindy was busily and happily devouring her friends sopping wet cunt, oblivious to what was developing behind her. I could see the fear in Zoe’s eyes, once she realized my presence. And now, confusion, as she saw my nakedness and now fully erect prick standing at attention. I brought my finger up to my lips, hushing her as I crept closer. Confusion turned into a devilish smile, as Zoe returned to fully enjoying the attention that Cindy was giving to her sex. Quietly I grabbed the bottle of lube, and applied a generous amount to my now bulging cock. Once I was directly behind Cindy, I carefully ran the tip of my index finger, starting at her neck, down her spinal cord, to the small of her back. She immediately jumped, and yelped. “Whaaa!”, she cried, and with the look of shock, a small gasp and a little scream, escaped her wet lips. “Shit! Dad!” She cried, “This isn’t what…,”

“What it looks like?!” I replied with an evil grin on my face. “Oh I know what it looks like!” I said smiling. “I’ve been watching and listening for long enough.” “Oh fuck!” She exclaimed. “And that’s exactly what we will be doing!” I said, with lust in my eyes.

Sex stories: MY HOT SISTER TONY…….PART-05 At this point I noticed that Zoe was moving two fingers frantically, dipping into her own cunt. I looked at the two of them and smiled. “This is what we always wanted Cindy!” Zoe managed out between sighs and groans of pleasure. “Cindy, you know how much you wanted your dad, and now it’s finally all happening!” She quipped. Cindy’s expression quickly changed to a wicked grin, as she dipped her head and extended her hand back between her legs, grabbing a hold of my prick she carefully guided my tip to her sopping wet hole. “Oh!” she squealed, “Let’s do this! Fuck me daddy! Fuck me now!”

I didn’t wait for much more, and grabbing a hold of her slender hips, sank the full my cock deep into in her womb. Grunting like a pig, I begin my assault on her sweet, tight, little pussy. Cindy continued mashing Zoe‘s tits with her hands, while Zoe plunged her fingers feverishly inside her own wet cunt.

Cindy arched her back, and with every penetrating thrust, she howled with pleasure, calling out my name, “Yes daddy! She wailed, “Yes! Give it to me, I’ve been bad! Punish your beautiful daughter! Fuck me like a slut I am!” She screamed.

I was in a state of absolute bliss, as a bore down, into my sexy 16-year-old daughter’s willing cunt. This was heaven, but I was going to hell for sure. I felt like a young man again, as I continued to pound her virgin cunt. I continued to ravish her body, pulling on her perfect breasts with my hands from below. Cindy screamed, as I pulled at her nipples tweaking them between my thumb and forefinger while I fucked her like a beast from above.

“Oh my God!” I moaned, in pleasure. “I’m going to dump my load !” I yelled. “I’m going to cum inside my little girl!” “Oh god! Yes daddy!” She screamed, “give it to me now!”

“No! “Don’t you dare!” screamed Zoe. “You’re not done, until you take me too!” Cindy slid to the side, and began kissing Zoe with great passion, their tongues intertwined and their hands curled together, as I slid my body between Zoe‘s welcoming legs. Her cunt was dripping with a mixture of Cindy’s saliva and her own vaginal juices. As I guided my erect cock into her sopping hole, I was astonished to discover the significant amount of difficulty I was having, penetrating her little body.

Zoe’s body immediately shook with her first orgasm, as I plunged my eight inches further into her sweet cunt. She began screaming into my daughters mouth, and bucked her hips upward to meet each of my thrusts.

“Oh God daddy! Oh yes!” I could make out from the gurgling’s, as she spat into Cindy’s mouth. “Oh yes! I want it so bad!” she screamed, “Give me your fat cock! Give me your babies she wailed! Oh please daddy!” She pleaded. “Fuck your seed into your sweet little girl now!”

I could hear Cindy whining with seeming disapproval, she seem to be saying, “You’re my daddy, I want your seed first!” Her eyes pouted, as I fucked Zoe back even harder. And then changing in moment, seemed to acquiesce. As if to say, “Yes daddy, it’s OK, Zoe needs her daddy too.”

Cindy rose to her knees, and watched as the two of us, “father” and “daughter”, finished our deed. Now I began to reach my full stride, and Zoe’s young, tender, body flailed helplessly beneath my weight. It didn’t take long, she was so incredibly tight, that I literally couldn’t have lasted much more than a minute. Her eyes rolled back, and I knew as her body shook, that she was having her second orgasm.

Then suddenly a calm feeling settled over me, and everything seemed to slow down. Zoe looked up and our eyes met for what seemed like an eternity. “Here I am!” I groaned, “Here I cum!” She lifted her torso up slowly and wrapping her arms around my chest, whispered in my ear, “Give me your love daddy, I need your love…” And with that… I emptied my seed deep inside her fertile womb, hoping , but not knowing, as we collapsed into each other’s arms.

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