#request 2192
Note
Hello, could you please help me find a drarry fic on ao3, I think it's established relation and Draco wanted to propose Harry through Newspaper but the newspaper accidentally print that Draco is pregnant. Harry approaches Draco and fret over him, Draco takes it in offensive way thinking Harry thinks he is fat or something along the line. And Harry thinks that Draco is having mood swing. Later the truth is revealed. I think Hermione was also there, advising Harry
We believe you are looking for Awkward Misconceptions by Lani (5k, M)
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I want to dance on your body
Pairings: Damiano David xfem!reader
Contents: smut
Summary: You and your bestie hit up a party when you start grooving with Damiano, and the dance floor chemistry carries over to his hotel room. That's where the magic unfolds, and you both go to cloud as he compares you to an angel.
Words: ~2192
A/N: Hi, hello and please, forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading. I recommend you to play Touch Me and just enjoying ✨
You and your best friend are strolling into the party of some badass celeb she knows, she's probably already mentioned the name a million times, but you ain't giving much of a damn, you just wanna hit up a party, grab a few drinks, and bust some moves. Have a blast and enjoy yourself!
As you and your friend make your way through the entrance, you exchange a sly grin while vibrant, trippy lights groove to the beat throughout the crib. Side by side, you advance towards the dance floor, and your friend chimes in:
"Alright, let's have a fucking blast tonight," she says with a grin, and a contagious smile spreads across your face as well.
You were both pumped for this party and ready to let loose and enjoy yourselves to the max.
In a split second, she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bar, where a bunch of peeps are lining up, ordering their go-to drinks, all geared up to hit the dance floor again. You step up to the bartender and request your ultimate drink, downing it in a single gulp before quickly ordering another shot and doing it all over again.
The drink ignites a fire within you, fueling you with energy and liquid courage to fully embrace the moment, without a care in the world. No worries, just pure enjoyment.
You and your friend head straight to the dance floor, grooving together to the sick beats. But before long, someone swoops in and starts getting their groove on with her, leaving you to your own devices. No biggie though, it doesn't faze you one bit. You keep on dancing as if the music is pumping right through your veins.
Eyes closed, you immerse yourself in the moment, feeling the heat of someone's body swaying alongside yours. Whoever it is, they sense your awareness and since you don't brush them off, they casually rest their hand on your waist, getting even closer in their moves. Your ass is the only thing touching him as you dance with a touch of sensuality right there on the dance floor. The electricity builds up as you grind with this mysterious dancer behind you, sending tingles down your spine.
You both bust some moves together for three consecutive songs, and it's as if you're in perfect harmony. The dance isn't just about showing off or impressing each other; it's about creating something extraordinary between you.
As the beats thump on, you suddenly hear his voice whispering in your ear, "Finally, someone who's up for it."
It tempts you to ask what he means, but you decide against it. You don't want to risk blurting out something silly and ruining the magical vibe of what just went down. So, you simply let the moment linger, cherishing the mystery and excitement that swirls around you.
You sense the hint of a smile against your cheek, and it elicits a light-hearted chuckle from you. It's best to leave it at that and keep relishing in the night's pleasures.
You turn your gaze towards him, even though the lights make it difficult to see his face clearly. Nevertheless, you can tell that he's undeniably attractive (and damn, he can dance like nobody's business).
It's time to get another drink!
As you reach the bar, you order another drink, but this time you savor it slowly, relishing every drop of that boozy sting as it glides down your throat. The flavors dance on your tongue, creating a delightful sensation.
Before you're about to leave the bar, the stranger appears by your side once more, placing an order for two drinks. Now, with a clearer view of his face, you can't help but smile as your gaze locks onto his handsome features.
He returns the smile and pops the question:
"Care for another drink?"
You nod in agreement, and with that, you both exchange proper introductions. Skipping the dance floor this time, you snag two primo seats at the bar, engaging in a conversation that flows as if you've been pals for ages.
Damiano and you have reached a level where you're familiar with the key aspects of each other's lives. It's not something you typically do, spilling your guts to strangers, but under the influence of alcohol and with the enchantment Damiano has cast upon you, it feels natural to engage in heartfelt conversation.
He suggests, "How about finding a more quiet spot?"
The idea resonates with you, and you nod in agreement, intrigued by the prospect of finding a quieter place where you can continue this magical connection.
You flash him a mischievous smile and take hold of his hand, leading him away from the lively dance floor and the bustling bar. As you pass through the living room, your eyes catch sight of numerous unoccupied couches, and you can't resist the temptation. You abruptly halt, tugging on his hand to bring him to a stop, and in a matter of seconds, both of you find yourselves sprawled out on one of the cozy couches.
Damiano's hands be all up in his waist as you're locking lips in a way that has both of you gasping for breath, but you don't give a damn. You feel Damiano's hands on your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as you continue kissing you, and you let out a moan, trying to catch your breath and satisfy the intense desire he's been arousing in you since you started dancing together.
"Allright?" he asks you.
You nod eagerly, craving his touch on every inch of your body, as his hand traces a path from your thigh to your clit.
"Holy crap," you moan, overcome with pleasure.
He slid your underwear aside, skillfully rubbing your clit at a tantalizingly slow pace. The way he teased you was driving you wild. You rested your head on his shoulder, attempting to conceal your flushed face while muffling your moans as best you could.
"Oh fuck," you whispered, the pleasure intensifying as he increased his pace, making it even more challenging to stifle your cries.
"It's okay, let go. Everyone's too drunk to notice us," he playfully remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.
His words gave you the permission you needed, and you couldn't help but release your moans. They weren't overly loud, but they would definitely catch the attention of anyone who wasn't lost in their own drunken haze.
"Good girl," he murmured into your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine.
The fire inside you burned hotter and hotter, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. All sense of shame vanished, replaced only by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
"I'm close!" you moaned, your voice filled with desperate need. And just as you uttered those words, the climax washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.
"That was... amazing," you whispered, still catching your breath from the intensity of the experience.
He hinted at taking the rendezvous to his hotel for more privacy, and you could sense the anticipation building. He stood up, extending his hand towards you, and you eagerly took it, rising to your feet. Adjusting your dress, you both made your way out of the bustling party.
Upon arriving at his hotel room, he opened the door slowly, pulling you inside. As you stepped into the room, your eyes took in the sight of scattered papers on the king-size bed. Being a singer in a band, it was no surprise that he had been busy writing songs, the creative process evident in the disarray around you.
"Will you write a song about tonight?" you asked, a hint of anticipation in your voice. As the door closed and clicked, Damiano wasted no time. He swiftly unbuttoned his white shirt, discarding it onto the dresser.
"Probably," he replied, his gaze fixed on you as he moved closer. With a deft hand, he skillfully removed your dress, casting it aside without a second thought. Now, standing before him in nothing but your underwear, you felt a surge of confidence.
His eyes tracing over your body, and he couldn't help but confess:
"You look... amazing." His voice dripped with admiration and desire, fueling the intensity of the moment.
He placed his hands firmly on your hips, just as he had done earlier, and leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You reciprocated, savoring the taste of his lips, and instinctively placed your hands on his face, deepening the connection between you.
Feeling the intensity between you both, he reached down and firmly gripped one of your legs, lifting it up and resting it on his hip. The sensation heightened, and you could feel him more intimately. With a surge of desire, he broke the kiss, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of lust and admiration and in a bold move, he swiftly switched his hold to your other thigh, lifting you effortlessly and pressing you against the wall. The rush of being carried and pinned against the solid surface added an exhilarating edge to the moment, intensifying the passion and desire that consumed you both.
You locked eyes with each other, the intensity building with each passing moment, until he couldn't resist any longer and leaned in to capture your lips in another passionate kiss. The room seemed to ignite with fervor as the kiss deepened, fueled by an overwhelming desire.
Both of you were breathless, your bodies craving more. With a sense of urgency, Damiano swept you off your feet and carried you to the edge of the bed, gently placing you there. He swiftly cleared the clutter of papers that had occupied the bed, letting them cascade to the floor, clearing the space for your intimate encounter.
As he turned his attention back to you, his eyes filled with admiration and desire. He leaned in closer, his voice a soft whisper against your skin:
"You're so beautiful, you look like an angel." His hand caressed your face tenderly, tracing the contours with gentle affection.
You smirked mischievously, pulling him closer to you, your desire evident in your eyes.
"I could say the same for you, but how about we go to heaven together?" You whispered seductively, your lips grazing his neck on her before playfully biting down.
In an instant, it seemed like something ignited within Damiano. He firmly gripped your neck, exerting a delicious control, and guided you down onto the bed. His lips trailed along your neck, seeking out your sweet spot, and when he found it, he indulged in it wildly. Leaving a trail of hickeys and bites in his wake for him, he marked you as his own for him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping it tightly as you let out soft moans of pleasure.
The intensity grew as Damiano skillfully removed your panties, unveiling your desires. The air crackled with anticipation as your bodies yearned for the connection that awaited them.
"Are you wet for me, huh?" He sensually bites his lip while locking eyes with you.
He moans in delight as he gently inserts his cock into your pussy, igniting waves of pleasure.
Bestowing upon you the most sublime ecstasy.
He moves his hips with deliberate grace, thrusting in and out, synchronizing your desires.
"Oh, fuck!" you passionately moan, your voice filled with pure bliss.
Damiano smirks, his confidence growing, and intensifies his rhythm, heightening your desire.
As you lose yourself in the throes of passion, your hand instinctively covers your mouth, but Damiano forcefully removes it, yearning to hear your euphoric symphony.
"No, I wanna hear you when you go to heaven, y/n," he whispers with fervor.
You affirm with a nod, surrendering to the divine pleasure that awaits you.
You moan Damiano's name as he intensifies the rhythm of his thrusts, causing your head to fall back onto his plush pillows.
"Oh, Damiano, I'm so close!"
"Come, y/n, cum to me," he asserts, his voice laced with longing.
You struggle to hold back, determined to hear him plead, but his relentless stimulation of your spot makes it nearly impossible. The pleasure is simply too overwhelming.
"Come, y/n," Damiano groans, his voice filled with urgency.
You tighten your grip around him and succumb to the waves of ecstasy he elicits. As you reach the pinnacle of pleasure with him, he remains motionless, deeply embedded within you, his body collapsing onto yours, a resounding groan of your name escaping his lips.
The intensity of the moment consumes you, as he pours every ounce of himself into you, leaving you both utterly spent and satisfied.
You both were breathless and drenched in perspiration, your legs entwined with his.
"I wanna go to heaven with you again" Damiano whispers, his face inches away from yours.
You smile, gazing into their eyes, and you can see the unmistakable lust and desire reflected in him. You hope that he can also perceive the depth of your yearning and how much you desire the very same thing he does.
#Må#måneskin#damiano david#damiano maneskin#damiano david x reader#damiano david x you#damiano david fic#damiano david smut#maneskin imagine
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4t2 Hairs (+ one 3t2) in The New Hair System.
colors by pooklet.
original textures*.
binned, familied, tooltipped and compressed.
all four colors are in one .package file.
all the meshes are included.
yuri's high elf was requested by @daydreamingdrawerette.
4t2 Braid Side Bun (EP01)
ages cf to ef
2238 polys
mesh conversion by @platinumaspiration
DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf
4t2 Glumbut Luma
ages tf to ef
6100 polys
mesh conversion platasp
DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf
4t2 Long Braid (EP13) - unisex
ages pu to eu
5190 polys
mesh conversion platasp
DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf
Meduza's Get Fabulous Recreation - non-default version
ages tf to ef
5000 polys
mesh by @jellymeduza
DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf
4t2 Short Afro (EF13)
ages pm to em
2192 polys
mesh conversion platasp
DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf
4t2 Tight Curls (EF11) - unisex
ages pu to eu
8300 polys
mesh conversion platasp
*uses suratan-zir's retexture (nouk)
DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf
Yuri High Elf
ages cm to em
2000 polys
3t2 mesh conversion by grecadea
DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf
#the sims 2#sims 2#sims 2 cc#ts2cc#s2cc#the new hair system#4t2#4t2: f#fhair#4t2: m#mhair#hair#request#yuri#yuri: m#clay#clay: f#clay: m#glumbut#glumbut: f
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The Freedom of Giving In (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)
Summary: After you and Charles fool around behind Arthur’s back, you say the wrong man’s name the very next night. Enraged, Arthur gets his due.
Author’s Notes: A request I was very happy to write. There is a bit of violence (a fight) but I wouldn’t describe it as graphic. There is one small mention of blood but that’s about it. Enjoy this fic that again makes me question my preference for high honor Arthur :)
Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, smut, low honor Arthur Morgan, rough sex, spanking, fist fight
AO3 Link
~
The Freedom of Giving In
Word count: 2192
You really should not have done this. You should have stood your ground, strengthened your will, fought back. Not this.
For the first time since Arthur Morgan touched you all those months ago, he was not the only gang member to have done it. Thoughts of last night came swirling back to you, the same darkness and trees making your brain fog over with familiarity. There were hardly any differences to speak of between that night and this one, only that where Arthur now stood pleasuring you, someone else had not even a day ago. Even worse, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel guilty about it. You were angry with Arthur. He was being a brat. Hence why you truly shouldn’t have let your desire get the better of you tonight. Not with him, at least.
You were still unbelieving last night had even happened. Most men were too intimidated to go near you, much less take a woman Arthur Morgan thought he owned. But Charles Smith wasn’t. He never had been. And it was this that got your attention, made you proud, even—proud to have landed him. Because you knew he was too cunning to butt into this spat you and Arthur were having under normal circumstances, but he was brave enough, confident enough, to do it anyway if your pleasure was involved.
“Ohh…” you droned when Arthur’s thumb found your clit, dragging against it. But it wasn’t Arthur you thought of. You thought of Charles’ eyes meeting yours, that lazy gleam in them that promised pleasure. You thought of how big he was, so thick you had ached all day from the stretch of him inside of you. You thought of finding your pleasure with him, not once but twice.
You still hadn’t decided whether you wanted Arthur to know or not. He didn’t deserve the pride he was likely feeling now, getting to do this to you. He didn’t deserve to think that he had won, that you were succumbing to him. You debated telling him all day that you had let Charles have his way with you. But you hadn’t, something about it being your little secret making your blood burn every time it crossed your mind.
You started panting when Arthur’s thumb rubbed against you lightning fast. Your pleasure built, and through tightly closed eyes, all you could see was Charles. Not Arthur, not the man who had demanded you obey him from day one. You had been outright ignoring him for a week straight because of it. And what did that get you? Nowhere near an apology and pushed against a tree deep in the woods, knowing Arthur would have his way with you soon. The controlling, infuriating bastard. So you didn’t think of him when your orgasm climbed toward its peak. You thought of Charles taking a full minute to seat himself inside of you because he was so big. You remembered his doting words, his thick, loving fingers. The way he made sure you found your pleasure before he ever sought his. Twice.
By the thought alone and under a different man’s hand, your release hit you hard, and you gasped in a breath at the weight of it breaking over you. Your mouth fell open, the ache within you burning—you wanted him.
“Charles,” you moaned. It took you less than a second to realize your mistake, to realize you didn’t want Arthur to know after all.
Arthur ripped his hand away, meeting your eyes with a blazing anger in his own. “What the hell did you just call me?”
“I- I didn’t-” You couldn’t find the words. He was never violent with you, but that didn’t make you cower any less under the look he was giving you.
“You been fucking Charles?” he demanded.
Christ, that anger. He might as well have made it palpable, cracked it like a whip across your skin. “I…”
He turned and started toward camp faster than you could react.
“Wait! Wait, Arthur.” You ran after him. “Don’t-” He slung your hand off when you caught up, barreling through you. An unstoppable force, headed straight for Charles. “He was- I didn’t mean for you to-”
“I’ll deal with you later,” he nearly growled, pinning you with a look so dark your arousal tangled through you again.
He stormed on, leaving you standing there. Watching, waiting for the inevitable.
Charles was just inside camp, sitting alone. Arthur rounded him with so much anger it was a wonder Charles didn’t feel it coming.
“Did you have her?” Arthur asked, dangerously quiet. Charles looked up at him. Stared too long.
“I asked you a goddamn question,” Arthur said through gritted teeth.
“So what if I did?” Charles shot back, standing. What a terrible thing to say. Charles was bigger than Arthur, probably stronger. But you knew the anger that plagued Arthur well, and with it burning this hot…Charles should have known better.
Arthur was on him in a second. Charles tried to shove him off, but Arthur was no weakling himself. He started punching. Charles tried to dodge, but he was too wide. Arthur’s wrath was too focused. When the first hit landed, you brought your hand over your mouth to hide your gasp—the cracking sound that met your ears was grizzly.
Charles hit the ground, and the other gang members came running. You didn’t have it in you to move a muscle, could only watch in the low firelight as the pair fought like dogs. Fought over you. You couldn’t deny that turned you on.
“Hey, hey!” Javier said, trying to pry Arthur off of Charles.
“Leave us!” Charles shouted, finding his footing and shoving Arthur over, gaining the upper hand. The second his huge fist raised in the air, the heartbeat before it came down on Arthur, you realized which man you wanted to win.
“Wait!” you shouted, but they were oblivious to it. Charles punched Arthur in the face so hard you winced. But Arthur was still moving, still so angry as to throw Charles to the side with ease. Before Charles could regain his balance, Arthur’s fist collided with the side of his head, a harder hit than any yet. Charles’ eyes rolled back, and he keeled over like a corpse, hitting the ground. Knocked out cold.
Arthur got to his feet and spit on him without a backward glance, his eyes immediately finding you. Time stopped with that look. Pure, unfiltered rage. But you weren’t scared of it—quite the contrary. You knew Arthur was a good fighter, but taking down Charles because of you…you wanted him for it. Your desire started burning hotter than you’d ever known when Arthur made for you.
The others tended to Charles as Arthur stalked you down, but you could hardly pay them any mind. Not when he stared like that.
He was on you in a heartbeat, grabbing your arm and yanking you along. You were silent, letting him do it for the sake of the heat burning through you. There was a cut on his face, a bit of blood running down his temple. Charles probably could have killed him. He definitely could have killed Charles. But for some reason, you didn’t care. You didn’t care that Charles was laying in a heap back in camp and that it was your fault. Call you evil-hearted, but all you cared about was Arthur’s hands on you. What he would do to you because of it.
He yanked you along until you were back in the woods. Deeper in the woods. When he finally let go, you expected him to demand answers from you, but he didn’t say a word before he forced you around, making you kneel to the ground. He lifted your skirts, revealing your barely-clothed backside to the world before you could so much as take a breath. He spanked you. Hard.
“Arthur!” you cried. But you couldn’t deny the arousal that shot through the word when he did it.
“Remembered my name, did you?” he snarled. Then spanked you again, your backside already burning like fire from the first one. You cried out, the edges of a moan pushing through. He had never been so rough with you, and by god were you loving it.
“Yes, Arthur, I-” He did it a third time, interrupting you.
“Just too damn greedy, ain’t you? I weren’t enough, so you had to go fuck Charles ‘cause you thought he was the only man I couldn’t take in a fight.”
“I never said-” He spanked you again, so hard you sucked in a breath to keep tears from pricking your eyes. You wanted him then. Wanted him to take you so hard you couldn’t walk after.
“I don’t give a shit how mad you are at me. Don’t you ever go doing that again, or mark my words I’ll kill him next time.”
Arthur spanked you one last time, and with it, you believed every word he spoke. After a pitiful whimper, you spun around, trying to show him just how much this turned you on. Only, you didn’t get an inch closer before he was on you, knocking your hands to the ground, ripping the rest of your clothes away. When you were bare, he forced you back over, the sound of his gun belt hitting the ground meeting your ears. You shivered with delight at the sound.
“You’re gonna take this,” he said, that low voice of his making you hold in a whine.
Without warning, he rammed his whole length inside of you from behind, so hard you cried out and fell forward. His hands brought you back up, holding you steady as he fucked into you again.
“That’s right,” he said through your moan. “Who do you belong to?”
“You, Arthur,” you breathed out.
His hand found your hair and pulled hard. “Louder than that, girl.”
“You, Arthur! I belong to you!”
He pounded into you, his pace brutal, his angle painful. You remembered then what you had been lacking with Charles—Arthur knew how to fuck you better than any man in the world.
“Still can’t hear you,” he said, releasing your hair and drawing your hips upward with his strong hands. He buried himself inside of you with a grunt, and you nearly came from the spot he hit so deep. You screamed his name.
“That’s right,” he ground out. “You’re fuckin’ mine.”
Your high was nearing when his hand found your ass and squeezed hard. His hips rolled into you with such force it was taking all of your strength not to fall forward, even with him holding you steady.
“You ever say another man’s name to me again and I’ll fuck it right out of your mouth.” You let out a loud moan. So damn close.
He leaned in, his hand finding your throat and pulling up. He spoke in your ear, voice rough, “You’re gonna take my spend for what you did.”
Your body shivered. He had never- would never.
Arthur let go of everything but your hips and slammed in deep. He went still and let out a groan so loud you realized how serious he was—he was spilling inside you. Worse still, you didn’t fight him, didn’t anger, didn’t do anything but feel your orgasm take hold at the thought of him forcing you to take it.
Your body shook with pleasure as you clenched around him, as good as saying you had wanted this all along.
After a few breathtaking seconds, Arthur let out a low laugh and circled his hips around, still buried so deep that every pass made you moan with overuse.
“You like that, girl? Like me breeding you?”
Hellfire. You were too high from pleasure for this. Too high to deny it.
“Who knew,” he joked. “Little miss independent wants my baby.”
“Shut the hell up,” you rasped, voice hoarse from all that yelling.
He laughed again and pulled out in one smooth motion, resulting in you falling forward the second he released you.
You sprawled in the dirt, uncaring that your womanhood was bared to the world, too used up to move.
“Minding me looks good on you,” he said, his hand squeezing your ass and teasing where he had spanked so hard earlier. He turned you over, making you lay flat out on your back to look up at him. “You remember this the next time you go testing my temper.” His grin took up his whole face then. Never in your life had you been more willing to let it stay. Not after what he had just done. In fact, if it were up to you, you’d take a different man every night just to have this again. And, unashamedly, you knew you would go crawling back to Arthur now, temporary spat long behind you. For you had forgotten just what made you crazy about him in the first place—that glorious body of his, and everything he knew how to do with it. There was no denying it now. You were his.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#low honor arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur morgan#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2#fanfic#writing#nsft#lemon fanfic
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Perversion, Submersion [Pervert!Roman Roy]
Roman has been avoiding you or you've been avoiding Roman, he isn't sure and neither are you. The opportunity strikes in an elevator: explain yourself.
Warnings are in place for parts 1 and 2! This is just fluffy and open to interpretation - if you want continuations or drabbles of them, feel free to request more of Roman and this reader after this.
Part I | Part II | You are reading part 3.
WC: 2192
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
It’s not unexpected but it is inconvenient when he finds himself in this position: stuck between the mirrors and four corners with you of all people. The brewing storm outside and unappealing lengthy trek down the numerous flights of stairs made this situation inevitable but undeniably appealing in the sheer amount of coincidences that had to transpire to corner you in the elevator with him.
Since your very brief and uncomfortably soothing sexual encounter with Roman, the churning in his belly was less associated with being called a perverse piece of shit but most days his mind fell back to the velvety whispers into the tip of his head as you crooned to him with sweet words. He had never heard such sincere things said to him, even in his wildest dreams there was a looming sense of craving for confirmation that he was despicable. The way his veins nowhere near his dick throbbed at your sweet words were much less bothering him but rather haunting him.
Your gaze is cold and it feels like it sees through him like mesh; you can touch it but it’s so thin and barely there it should barely carry the name ‘mesh.’ A halo of yellow light bathes you from overhead as you sigh and sit on the floor, kicking off your heels as you stretch your legs against the tiles of the elevator. A pair of kitten heels sit neatly beside you as you look up at him expectantly. The hair falling in your face from the tiring work day of running here and there and struggling to juggle a phone with the lunches of higher ups. A slight stain of coffee on your chest from the morning is dry (and it gives him a reason to look at your tits).
“What’re you lookin’ at? My dashing good looks?” Roman scoffs in that haughty tone though it barely disguises the little crack in his voice at your severe gaze. An expression devoid of smiles nor the tender coos you had last week. The seven days that passed were full of your cold and even voice like it was before you let him suckle at your tit; he felt much less like the context of it was sexual in this moment given how stern and maternal you looked at the moment even from a position below him from the ground.
“You’re not going to sit? I pressed the emergency button but I’m not sure when anyone will come. The storm should blow over soon enough though. It’s almost 7 and forecast said the chance of rain at 8 is only 40%,” you start nonchalantly, rolling your ankles girlishly in your stockings.
“40% is like, almost half, so what do mean blow over soon? And if I sit I bet my ass that this thing will rip my trousers in two,” he starts, “unless you’re into that.”
“Oh it’s my wildest dream,” you chuckle, “just sit, Roman. It won’t kill you.”
The concept of eye contact is grating on the sulci and gyri on his brain. It feels less like an invitation and more like a threat. He preferred not being so level with you, no, he much rather preferred where he was all settled in your chest last week. He’d been craving warmth that wasn’t sexual despite the way he spilled into his hand so quickly like man fresh out o the jailhouse with his first broad in however many rotations around the sun.
But it’s less intimidating at this level; the way your backs press against the glass adjacent to each other under the dim light. Yet nonetheless, words don’t find his ears nor do they press against his teethless: feeling speechless is not a feeling that frequents Roman and whenever it does come up it feels unnatural. Because it is.
The first noise to meet his ears is your yawn, your mouth opening big and wide in a silent huff of air that showed you were tired. The corporate American lifestyle must’ve been tiring for people beneath his level but that’s your fucking problem: your face never really showed tire and the confusion of you finally finding expressions in private with him only served to complicate whatever weird feeling was left squirming in his throat and belly. It left him like feeling halfway to throwing up, like a a worm was wriggling around his uvula, and the breath seemed to catch in the esophagus less like being “speechless” and more like he was choking on a favorite food.
The first touch he feels is your head on his shoulder. The reflective metallic surface of the elevator doors depict a renaissance scene: your beautiful hair pressed against his neck as your tired face was relaxed into the fabric of his suit. The first scene he smells is your breath warmed the air by him enough to let him know you were chewing some sweet gum like a child earlier instead of peppermint like any other woman your age? What was it? Hubba bubba? The thick blocks of gum that felt like bricks of sludge?
“The fuck does your breath smell like that for?” he started, desperate to not be construed as vulnerable or wanton for you. The way his voice cracked weakly and rose an octave at the question only served to expose the vulnerability that he hated.
“It’s gum.”
“Gum smells like gum, mint ‘n shit. Your breath smells like you ate unicorn shit.”
“’S hubba bubba. I like the tape version more than the block, the one that’s sour and blue. Do you know what that is or is it too far from your diet of caviar and escargot?”
“Hardy har har. I know what the fuck hubba fuckin’ bubba is.”
“Explain what it is.”
“Why would I waste the limited air of this up and down box on explaining something to you already know? It’s gum that smells like unicorn shit.”
Your brows furrow as you pull back from his shoulder to do at him. Stern, but not cold like that usual face you always seemed to make.
“Don’t say that.”
“Say what? Is unicorn shit that offensive –“
“That you’re wasting air.”
His face falls a bit, not at all at once, but the way his eyes falter and the muscles at his mouth seem to weaken betrays him: you struck a nerve.
“Do you know what a joke is? Just a quick question.”
“Didn’t like that joke.”
“I’ll write that down that it isn’t a crowd favorite.”
“A comedian should know his crowd.”
“And how am I supposed to know you?”
“Cause you sucked my tits?”
“Then act like it.”
Your face scrunches, then relaxes, as it does. The stone look on your face is not past the little glassy look that covers your eyes: guilt. “I thought you didn’t want me to,” you admitted with reluctance, drawing your knees to your chest to rest your chin on it (creating a reflection of your lewd panties creased in the folds of your pussy in the elevator’s metallic shine). He scoffs, rolling his eyes at her; it’s like an excuse. Trying to create a gap between them broader than it already was. Sex was one thing; a one night stand sometimes happens but between his coworker of years? As she cooed sweetly, stroked his hair, pressed kisses to his scalp; his life had been a long stretch of financial comforts overshadowed by emotional neglect if not abuse. Shit, he only really thought he knew how to get off if there was an element of humiliation involved. To kiss and coo at him while he fisted his dick wasn’t an easy task. He had people see his dick through images, but the confidence that bloomed while your acrylic nails glided soothing circles into his skin made it not a moment in his head but in his groin. A feeling that was rare without a long, long relationship of pushing and pulling prior.
Why would you think he wouldn’t want you to? He sighs, deep and hefty, before muttering, “I’m not a slut, I don’t show everyone my dick even if HR says different. I wouldn’t let you see my dick if I thought ‘hey let’s ignore each other Monday I love the awkward emotional blue balls-‘”
“Emotional? Why are you using that word? You’re my higher up; I just didn’t take you for a guy that wants… anything consistent with… with…” your face scrunches more, an obvious habit you had when you were thinking hard, raking through the words on the tip of your tongue, “your secretary. Not even to be a porno cliché, but just… you’re a rich kid and I just work with you.”
You look pretty like this, the dim light over your head as the world’s winds whirred outside the tower. It had slowed to a drizzle yet you were still stuck there. He hated the intimacy of this; your glassy eyes peering over your knees at him. The way you plucked brows furrowed then unknit, the muscles of your t-zone thick with worry. Trying to make sense or trying to make yourself make sense.
“Fuck does that matter? I still sucked your tits,” Roman shrugs.
“Cause I don’t want to get my hopes up, Roman,” you say. The words are harsher than you intended, but they were honest work. Barren and vulnerable. How long you had been his subordinate was just a number, there was no concrete number behind when the attraction started. He wasn’t a classic man’s man, but there was something compelling. He was forever playful, never truly serious, and it was a breath of fresh air from the fear you initially felt when you graduated college; the endless certifications, exams, networking, and connections that you always tended to get a big girl job that still made you less than you would ever see that Roman had always had access to. The difference between a big boy and big girl job were world’s away, but the difference in upbringing never failed to make your stomach drop. Plenty of beautiful woman would love to sleep with a rich man; you had been told one thing over and over again in your youth that stuck like glue: Never love a man for what he has, but love him for who he is. The recessions, the stress, the endless hours alone at home, the tired eyes, and secondhand clothes were just objects; but you had a beautiful example of what life was like when you chose the same person over and over again from the beginning. The illusion of choice gone with the wind by the reality of what is already there; the grass never seemed greener to mom and pop.
In short: you wanted to only marry once, fuck one man, kiss one man, know one man. To love a rich man was to love a temporary one. He could go at any time for the younger piece of ass when father time made your collagen levels run low. When your hair got gray.
When Roman’s bank went dry, who would stay?
“Hope up? What? You like me or somethin’?” he laughs, that hyena laugh. The one that always caught the attention in the wrong way, but it feels like mockery. But to him, you’re mocking him. What is there to love about him? Even the people in his family seemed to feel a tie to him my obligation of bloodline and the shared experience Logan left with them. You had nothing to tie you to him other than getting his coffee and the fact he sucked your tits once.
“It isn’t funny,” you reply dryly, “I think I do, Roman.”
It isn’t funny. The weird way his stomach lurches like he’ll throw up. Like the bile in his belly comes up immediately. The way the thunder booms a little louder.
“Then like me. I already sucked your tits,” he forces a smile but the way his eyes look gaunt is worrying (mostly because he was suppressing the need to vomit in an enclosed space or even worse, on your lap).
“I don’t wanna like you if you don’t like me.”
“Then I’ll like you.”
“You can’t just say you’ll like me, Roman.”
“Then I liked you and I like you. I think you’re a pretty and nice lady with beautiful tits and I don’t care if you think I’m a weird boss because I’m Logan’s kid. Just try it. If you’ve tried a gross food before, you can try something with me.” You grin, but it’s a obscured by your knees in the way.
Impish, skittish, your eyes creasing by the way your smile reaches them.
“You’re not a gross food.”
“I’m a gross guy though.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What do you know?”
“I know I think you’re neat.”
His smile reaches his eyes next.
“I think you’re cute. Tell me more about you and I’ll consider the neat part.”
The elevator moves, a low hum, descending gently until it hits the first floor and the glassy corporate towers had never felt more comfortable.
#nana writes succession#roman roy x you#roman roy x reader smut#roman roy x reader#succession x reader#succession fanfic#SORRY FOR THE DELAY UNI STARTED RAA
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omg halloween fics im so excited! my first thought was the gang deciding to not dress up as anything spooky bc one member is comically afraid of the season, they go the wholesome route and all agree to dress as their heroes. peacemaker shows up in full 70s glam rocker costume. vigilante is, of course, dressed as peacemaker. and you show up in an adorably makeshift vigilante costume! hes saved your life a dozen times, of course hes your hero!!
Don't You Get It?
Rated: T+
Pairing: gn!Reader/Adrian Chase
Summary: When the Adebayo’s request non-scary costumes at their Halloween party this year, you and Adrian are forced to get a little creative.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2192
A/N: Ah, ty for this suggestion! I liked it so much that it got a little out of hand and I had to cut out a couple of scenes! 😅
🔪[#Vigilante Halloween Masterlist] 🕊
[Masterlist]
[Dividers]
“No. Fucking. Way!”
“What?” Leota called after you as you dashed further into the clothing section of the store.
When she caught up with you, you spun around with an excited flourish as you held up a black tee shirt. It had Vigilante’s signature chevron pattern printed on the chest.
“Do you think Adrian gets a cut of the sales?”
She laughed as you put the shirt back on the rack and grabbed one in your size.
“How? They can’t just send a check to “Vigilante”. It would be cool though, maybe he'd be able to quit his job.”
You snorted out a laugh and dropped the shirt in your basket. “Can you imagine Vig as a full time crime fighter? You thought he was wanted on multiple counts of murder before?”
“You’re right. Fennel Fields keeps him humble. I can’t believe you’re actually buying that.”
“I don’t know how, or when, but one day it’ll come in handy.”
She laughed and moved onto the next section of the store.
That was a couple of months ago. “Summer of Super Heroes” the store called their little promotion. There had been clothes based on other heroes, of course. Mostly Batman and Superman, but locations with local heroes also got merchandise based on them. Peacemaker and Vigilante had been hailed as heroes after the whole Butterfly incident, so they also had merchandise. It wasn’t much, it looked like you missed all of the Peacemaker merchandise, but you were lucky enough to snag a Vigilante shirt before it sold out.
Now Halloween was approaching and the Adebayo’s were hosting a party in which they were requesting no scary costumes.
“I can’t believe I can’t go as Leatherface!” Adrian complained while you stitched him up from his latest recklessness.
It hadn’t been an official ARGUS mission, but you had a major soft spot for the vigilante, so you gave him a standing offer to help him out whenever he needed, and he needed help often. According to him, even your band-aids were somehow even better than his!
“I was gonna bring a chainsaw and everything! It’s not fair! I can’t even use a chainsaw on pretend bad guys!”
You finished up, double checking your work just for the chance to subtly run your fingers across his incredibly chiseled abs. “I don’t think there are going to be many pretend bad guys anyways, V.” You started and pulled your hands away from his warmth and removed your gloves. “Remember Adebayo suggested that we come as our hero or something.”
"That's so lame!"
You started to tidy up your med kit while he tossed a shirt on. “Hmm.”
“What?” He asked once his head popped through his shirt.
“Nothing, really. I just thought you’d be jumping at the chance to dress up as Peacemaker.”
He loudly gasped and his eyes went wide.”You’re right! It’s not lame!” But just as quickly as he had changed his mind, he returned to pouting. “But, where am I going to get a Peacemaker shirt in time?!”
“Just buy a red shirt.”
“But it’s gotta have the dove of Peace on it!”
“Paint it on?”
“It won’t look good if I do it!” He huffed, “can you do it?”
“Hmm, probably not well.” You conceded.
He whined and pouted again, so you continued to spin ideas for him. You couldn’t have your favorite boy feeling all sad, no matter how cute he looked.
“Doesn’t Chris have multiples of that shirt? Just use one of those?”
He looked at you dubiously. “I know you think I’m big and muscly,” he was, “but P’s shirts won’t fit me! It’ll look stupid if it’s all baggy!”
“Okay. Tell you what, if you can get one of his shirts, I can do a bit of tailoring and bring it in for you.”
“Really?” He gasped and leaned forward on the desk he was sitting on.
“Yea. I’ll even let it back out after the party so he doesn't get mad at you for ruining one of his shirts.”
“You can do that?”
“Pretty easy, actually.” You nodded.
“You’re so cool!” He hopped off the desk and pulled you up into a big hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He rocked you from side to side as he continued to hug you.
“Calm down, Vig!” You winced from how loud he was.
He dropped you with an apology and a wide smile gracing his lips, then helped you clean and lock up before leaving Henenlotter in a rush, presumably to borrow one of Peacemaker’s shirts.
-
The next day he texted you saying that he got a hold of one of Peacemaker’s shirts and he was going to drop it off at your place. It was later than you expected when he actually showed up, but considering he was wearing his Fennel Fields uniform, you guessed he just got off of work.
“Hey,” he greeted as you let him in. “Can I change here?” He motioned to the duffel bag in his hands, one you’d seen many times before and knew to contain his Vigilante suit.
“Sure.” You took the Peacemaker shirt from him and tossed it on the back of your couch. Then you grabbed the measuring tape you set out for when he got there. “But before you put your Vigilante suit on, let me take some measurements.”
“Ok!” He said cheerily, but he walked away towards your bathroom.
“Oh…no.” you blinked, “I meant…” well he was already in the bathroom…
Sure enough, a minute later he returned to the living room in nothing but his tactical pants and socks. Not that you were going to complain.
It surprised you (not for the first time) how soft his skin was. Usually when you patched him up, you wore gloves, robbing you of the feeling of his skin. But now, as you took his measurements, you were reminded of just how soft his skin was. So few scars actually covered his body, despite how often he got hurt. You’d only been around the team for a few months, a more than welcome field medic, and by all accounts, he should have way more scars, but even the wound you stitched up last night was nothing but a light pink blemish that was sure to fade completely rather soon.
“Do you have a costume yet?” He asked once you let him go. He sat down on the couch and started to slip on the rest of his suit.
“Uhm, not really.” You half lied. You had an idea, and you were pretty certain you could get all the components for the costume from your existing wardrobe.
“Oh! If you want, I can borrow another shirt from Peacemaker and we can match!”
His smile was so cute that you almost felt bad for shooting him down. But there was no way you were going to wear a Peacemaker costume! “No thanks, I’ll think of something before the party.”
“Aww! How awesome would it be if we were both Peacemaker though?”
You chuckled and steeled your nerves. Honestly, if he kept that up you might just give in. “Maybe we can wear matching costumes next year?”
-
You were running a little late to the party. A quick text to Adebayo meant that no one was worried, though Adrian kept texting you updates on the party and sent a few pictures as well. (You may have saved the selfies that he sent. He just looked so happy and so good that it was hard to resist!)
The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It wasn’t just the 11th Street Kids, but some of Keeya’s friends and coworkers as well as some of their neighbors. So it was a bit hectic when Leota answered the door. She was balancing a bowl of candy in one arm and a dog in a doctor costume in the other.
“Hey! Happy Halloween! Come on in!”
You followed her in with an enthusiastic greeting.
The dog in her arms started to squirm so she motioned to a room off the side of the entryway. “You can put your coat and hat down in there.”
“Alright.” You didn’t bother to correct her, that the plain black baseball cap that you wore was part of your costume, as you headed for the room she pointed to.
Before you even opened the door, you heard your name yelled from across the party.
Adrian had spotted you walking in, in fact he’d been eagerly checking his phone for a text from you and watching the door every time the doorbell rang. He quickly caught up with you as you entered what you assumed was a small guest bedroom, if the twin bed tucked in the corner and piled with coats was anything to go by.
He started to excitedly tell you how everyone, even Peacemaker, said his costume looked so good. And that because of your tailoring Peacemaker hadn’t even noticed that he borrowed a shirt from him in the first place!
“Wait, you didn’t even tell him you were borrowing his shirt? Adrian, isn’t that stealing?” You teased him as you dropped your coat with the others on the bed.
“No! It’s not technically stealing because…” he stopped talking as he took in your costume.
Once you had the Vigilante shirt, it was easy to put together a Vigilante costume, as you already owned tactical pants and combat boots.
You raised a brow at his sudden silence. “Adrian?”
“...Holy shit. You’re dressed as me?”
“Yea!” You smiled, then pulled up the black neck gaiter you were wearing and popped on a pair of red sunglasses. “What do you think?”
“...You’re dressed as me.”
You blinked and started to get a little concerned that he was repeating himself. “Yea..? Not enough? Too much?”
“No. I don’t think you understood what Adebayo said. We’re supposed to dress up as our heroes.” He emphasized his point by clapping his hands together.
You looked down at your costume before looking back up at him. “Yea dude, I got that. We had a whole conversation about it while I was giving you stitches, remember?”
He gave a little frustrated growl, like you weren’t understanding him, and scrunched up his face. “But you’re supposed to dress up as your hero! And you’re dressed up as me!”
You took off your sunglasses and pulled the mask down so he could see your face clearly. “Adrian, Vigilante has saved me at least a dozen times, if not more! You saved me. So of course you’re my hero.”
He swallowed, “o-oh…”
You broke the slightly awkward silence that followed with a quiet cough. “But if you want me to change or something, I’m sure Leota has some-”
“No! No. I just, uhmmm…” Adrian was looking up as he tried to think of something, anything, to say. His blush no longer stained his cheeks because of frustration, but you had just called him your hero.
“I look that good, huh?” You giggled a little nervously as you copied the Peacemaker hero pose (that you’re pretty sure he just made up) that he kept doing in the pictures he sent you.
That seemed to snap him out of his stupor and he grinned at you. “Well you are dressed as the second coolest hero!”
“What? I’m totally dressed up as the first coolest hero!”
He blushed even more, even the tips of his ears were turning pink, and looked down at his feet.
“Which makes what I’m about to do a little weird.” You finished and flipped your hat backwards.
He looked up and tilted his head in that cute way he always did when he was confused. “What are you about to do?”
“This.” You quickly kissed him, just a little peck of the lips.
You meant to kiss him and dash off to the party to deal with however he felt about you kissing him later, but he quickly grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him.
He dropped his forehead to yours, his nose lightly bumping against yours and he grinned. “Eat peace, motherfucker.”
You snorted out a laugh, unable to control your chuckling until he kissed you. He was smiling against your lips, laughing with you even as he nipped at your bottom lip.
“Nu-uh! You guys are not having sex in here!” Leota yelled as she stood in the doorway pointing at the two of you.
You and Adrian jumped apart slightly, but he managed to keep one hand on your back, as you looked at Leota in surprise, neither of you heard her open the door.
“We weren’t going to have sex!” You protested her assumption.
“We weren’t?”
You coughed quietly and looked at him. “Well, not here, anyways!”
Which meant that you were open to have sex with him anywhere else! “Awesome!”
Leota eyed you, though you could see the amusement in her eyes, and ushered you out of the room.
You weren’t sure what was sweeter, the candy you kept munching on, or how closely Adrian was glued to your side for the rest of the night.
Tag list:
@lululandd
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Big, Scary, Forest⋆｡*✩
pairing: draco malfoy x black!reader . word count: 2.1k ( 2192 )
⊹ masterlist . taglist form . request works .
⊹ summary: how draco malfoy found beauty in the forest outside his window.
⊹ authors note: y'all. i can not believe how long it’s been since i've been on here, read something or even had the time/energy to write something wether that was to post it or simply enjoy it for myself - but i finally did !!
There was a room there, behind the dark and pristine wooden door on the left side of the third floor of Malfoy Manor. One where a boy had moved into when he reached the age of five, and the little crib designed beds his mother held onto so tight continuing to buy one bigger and bigger and even using a few enchantments, had eventually grown too small for his legs and too ‘babyish’ for his liking.
This one, didn’t have a door directly to his parent’s room, and it definitely didn’t provide the view of the eastern sun rising and shining bright on his blond head. But, it was the one he would eventually make his own; with memorabilia, photographs, an array of sweets hidden in nooks, and quidditch posters — overlooked the west side, allowing a clear view of the dense forest trees that held a threatening shield to three sides of the manor.
They were packed so creepily, he thought as his mum and dad showed him around his ‘big kid’ room, his eyes glued to the frosted window. One that covered the entirety of one of his walls. So tall and thick, they were able to provide shelter, conceal and hide just about any and every creature that would go bump in the night.
Werewolves, vampires, doxies, dragons, and whatever else ran around a magical world.
When Draco Malfoy was eight, he’d come to the conclusion that he absolutely loathed it; and that he would’ve preferred to sleep in a crib all his life instead of waking up to the sight every morning.
And when he was eleven, after his first night of detention in the forbidden forest, he’d written his parents a lengthy letter which had immediately pestered them to get up and put some heavy curtains up.
In his thirteenth year of life, a little family had come to visit from America. Just a mother, father, and daughter who his mum had let slip he may want to open his window and impress a little.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are not some creature who will only survive if he may never see a pinch of sunlight. I know you hate it honey, but just for today, will you?”
He didn’t see why it had to be some big deal. How their getting a feel of the atmosphere of England before deciding if they wanted to relocate or not had anything to do with his family; given he’d never heard of them. Or how it had anything to do with his room, given that he was a teenage boy who had things better to do than giving a tour of his living space.
But with a sigh, he finished making his bed, threw his bear the same age as him into his wardrobe, fluffed his pillows a bit, and finally placed the dark, heavy fabrics onto their holders, letting every piece of life flood into the previously lamp powered room.
He’d met the girl just a month younger than him that day, who told him with her brown skin, and brown eyes, and brown twists tied into two low buns on the side of her, how much she admired how he could be so close to the forest. How she was so envious of how he could simply open his window to a world that smelled like fresh bark and pure air, and how when it rained it had to look absolutely beautiful.
“I swear, it’s like a scene from a film I’ve seen. I had my dad capture it and get it put into a frame for me. If you look at it long enough you can see the birds moving around on some branches. Seeing it in person is much better in my opinion.”
He was shocked at how she talked about it, how she could look at something he thought as hideously frightening, and find some beauty in it.
He opened his blinds just more than a crack every day since then, something unfamiliar fluttering inside him with the thought that whenever he did, maybe she’d know and be as happy and flaunt that pretty smile she did when she was there sitting on his bed and looking around his walls.
Her scent of coconut, shea butter, and some tropical shampoo fusion he could smell from her hair lingered there. Along with the undeniable red brisk all over his pale face, after they’d talked for two hours straight about everything and anything that came to mind, starting when her eyes lingered on his jersey thrown on one of his chairs since he’d unpacked and fact that she preferred some random muggle sport, volleyball, over quidditch.
The irony in his remark, that he just couldn’t imagine tossing around a rubber ball for thirty minutes more exhilarating than quidditch, was just what set off that laugh. That upbeat, stomach-tingling laugh that he kept trying to make happen those two hours before dinner.
But she wasn’t a mind reader. Or some seer like Professor Trelawney claimed she had been for the past; well he didn't know how long she’d been teaching at Hogwarts. And neither was he, based upon the time it took him to work up the courage to follow up with her, not knowing if her feelings were just the same.
Two mornings later, he sat down at his desk with just a pinch of sunlight gleaming off of the sheer black bubbles in his ink, and wrote a letter to her.
Excusing both the wait and the fact that he was writing it in the first place, with some sarcasm. That he had to ‘really consider’ if they’d be good friends at Hogwarts if her parents would say yes to the move.
On his seventeenth birthday, he snuck the both of them away from their friends who had easily become hers too from the years spent at Hogwarts by his side, and their families who had felt like they’d gone through some kind of mergence.
Running through the corridors, twisting and turning until they arrived at the dark and pristine wooden door on the left side of the third floor of Malfoy Manor.
At that moment, he felt happy. Unbelievably so.
Not only because he was holding her hand, small and soft and warm in his, and her laugh was ringing through his reddened ears, but that she wasn’t a mind reader like he’d wished so, some years ago.
Draco would be terrified, honestly. If she knew just how much he stared at her face during lessons, her eyes when she spoke to him, and hands whenever they’d brush against his, or hold his like it was now.
And especially now since he could finally pinpoint what exactly that overwhelming uncomfortableness was that made him want to throw up his insides and. . . hand them to her?
No. No, he would absolutely not tell her that; that he had some desire to hand himself to her like he had no common sense – Well, he did actually. But not in whatever grotesque way his mind formulated it in. He just, he knew it was good.
A good feeling of nerves when he’d watch the quirk of her two tone lips from across a classroom, to figure out if she was passionate about whatever the instructor was going on about or if she’d have him relay the whole lesson later in the day. The expressions they’d exchange when their social batteries had run out in groups of people and organized excuses they’d come up with to get out of the situations.
Oh and the thing that tugged at his beating heart the most, how she’d held him. When his mum and dad were getting into endless arguments and making sure he knew even when he thought he had escaped to Hogwarts, she’d let him lay his head on her and cry until her shirt was heavy and sticking to her shirt with salty tears.
He’d fall asleep on her, curled up like that five year old in the crib as he breathed in the comfort of her. And she’d never let him apologize, she said that he shouldn’t feel like there was something about the situation to feel sorrow about. He was hurt. And crying was a great response compared to keeping it all in.
And she let him hold her. When she was homesick, wishing to see the friends she was so close with while they were running around, not once so bothering to chat when she’d be there a whole two months out of the bloody summer, owl a small letter, or even respond to her efforts more than once every month they decided to remember.
“Talking to you is one of the easiest things I’ve ever done [ your name ], they're just shitty people who don’t deserve someone like you.”
Or when she was cold and tired in those Slytherin dungeons, he was the first warm body she’d sneak to. He knew what it was when his nose was ticking her neck one of those nights, both of them wide awake.
“I think you’re my favorite person in the world Draco, I feel so comfortable around you. You know, it doesn’t even feel like comfort even more. Like, like maybe something else? Something more than comfort? I dunno how to put it into words.”
She followed up slow, twisting around after a few silent seconds, facing him uneasily, “. . .Does that sound too intense?”
The knots in their stomachs were rolling right off each other, as his arms stayed wrapped around her waist, and her hands, placed on his chest, tapping a slow and tender beat on the platform.
“It’s not too intense if I feel the same way, is it?”
“No. I don’t think it is.”
Was that too big for them? Was love too big of a word for seventeen year olds? Was she even in love with him? Or was she just telling her best friend how best friends were supposed to feel about each other? He didn’t know what to think, when they were sitting on his bed again, looking at that big scary forest.
“I love this view, you know?” she whispered, teeth shining as she looked through his window a few feet away from his bed.
“I do.” He hummed his response.
The old glass was riddled with tear-shaped droplets, getting heavier and heavier until they eventually fell and raced down to weave themselves through the old yellowing brick of the manor.
His window was open ever so slightly, to let in that scent of pure air and fresh bark she’d described when they were twelve. He’d done that a few times already, when it was those dull summer days where they were an ocean apart because she was visiting family. A resulting small puddle left on his window sill left. He hoped it would rain every day those sixty something days so that he could have an excuse to think about her a little more.
He learned to like it. To see those trees as something beautiful instead of so ugly since he was just a little boy. To remind him that there were things beyond them, places like Hogwarts he held as a second home, and people like [ your name ], who made him feel like he was floating around in a cloud.
“hmm?” She turned at him wondrously, eyebrows furrowing softly as her eyes doed at him, a warm shot to his heart. Just a few soft movements until their noses could be brushing against each other, and another three or four until their lips would too.
“When you were uh, first here, you said how much you liked the view and how nice you thought it would look when it rained, so uhm, here it is, just for you,” he explained bashfully, evidently starting to get embarrassed at the idea that she had completely disregarded the encounter.
“Do you really remember that Draco?”
Her voice was lighter than he thought it would be, heat radiating hotter off of her face than a wildfire.
He nodded softly.
“And just for me?”
As faint the tease was in her voice, upward inflection at the end of the question as she took those movements, the tip of his straight sloped nose brushing against the right side of her face, as she adjusted herself to avoid the discombobulation that threatened them.
“Of course, I’d – I’d do a lot more for you too [ your name ], you know that don’t you?”
She pressed her lips together, humming a laugh against him faintly, “Well then uhm, I know it’s your birthday party and all, but in that case asking one more thing right won’t hurt then?”
Tenderly, she twisted over his body, picking out a piece of frosting out of his hair Blaise had swiped there earlier. He took the chance, the other three or four movements as he laid that arm right on his shoulder, letting go of her other to hold her face. Their lips were touching now, and he could almost taste the vanilla on her tongue.
“Anything, [ your name ], anytime.”
“Kiss me, please.”
🔖— !! @pagesofhistory @eunoniaa @ambi-doo12 @daltonacademia @inglourious-imagines @willowmores @axgelre @beforeoursunsets @selenesheart @o-rion-sta-r @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @l0vely-lupin @ameliasbitvh @cupids-crystals @wlfstxr @luvvvjada @alanniys @magicchai @wrathspoet @uwiuwi @bunnyweasley23 @murdockcastleslut @turn-to-page-394-please @callmesasha @dracosathenaeum @maybanksslut @marrymetheonott @gwlvr @bella-lxhp @trashyvicks @galimalfoyweasley @tomandjaebae @silverdelirium @dlmmdl @hogwarts-boys @akaaaaashiiii @fleursbabe @desiredmalfoy @redheaded-hobbit @belladaises @lovelymalfoyy @hogwarts-102 @darlingmalfoy @yoooespinosa @noellestrash @mollysolo @haroldpotterson @nicofiliac @yiamalfoy @lieswithoutfairytales @jemimah-b99 @clearbolts @i-love-scott-mccall @pinkcloxds @impulse-anchor @whatahufflepuffwrites @instabull @silverose365 @kitkatkaitin @if-only-i-was-fictional @missryerye @nyx2021 @valluvsu @tishanas-darlings @pagesofhistory @redoceanx
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HELLO HELLO! Tis I!
A non-undertale related one today, which is,, insane for me.
Can you write father figure Shane stardew valley and his child who started drinking? And Shane is like “I know how that feels but you dont have to do this” and and and JADJFJFFJFJ
my daddy issues show whenever i request father figure writing because its always angsty
It can be a one shot or headcanons :3
-🐾
OMG GRAAAAA HEY PAW PRINT ANON I MISSED YOU SNOOKIE 😻😻!!!!
ALSO WOWZERS NON-UNDERTALE RELATED!!! SHOCKING!!(IM FOOLING AROUND TEEHEE) AND OMG OFC I CAN!!!
I WOULD NEVER EXPECT SHANE TO BE FATHER FIGURE MATERIAL BUT REAL !!!
IMA DO A ONE-SHOT AS A SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE GRAAAAAAAA!!
GENDER NEUTRAL READER AS USUAL <3!!
characters -> Father figure Shane (that's all-!!)
TW/CW -> substance abuse, mentions of depression, using alcohol as self-harm, and swearing- obviously-!
word count -> 2k/2192
On a serious note, if you or anyone you know is suffering from depression and is using unhealthy coping mechanisms such as drinking to try and drown their sorrows, please know that there is resources, there is help, and you/they are not alone. Please talk to someone or listen to them, because it's obvious you/they need it. Speak up before it is too late and leads to more risky behaviors. You're not alone and neither should they be. Things will get better, without happiness there won't be struggle, but without any struggle there will be no happiness. Things may be bad now, but it will turn out okay. You never know when your day of happiness shall come, so please don't give up and please do not use such unhealthy coping mechanisms, all they do is cause even more harm dear. Please talk to someone 💗.
now that, that's outta the way uhhhh onto the one-shot -!
"I know how that feels but.. you don't have to do this."
Just one more bottle. Just one more! What's the harm in one more drink? After all it's not like you're addicted or anything! No, no of course not! It's just for some temporary relief, it's not like you drink almost every damn hour of your life and waste your days lying in bed. Fuck. You allowed a soft sigh to escape your lips as you laid in bed on your side, hugging your knees and covering yourself with the blanket. You were in your room, per usual, you just finished your last bottle of alcohol yesterday and were hungover. You had a huge headache, you felt like throwing up and your stomach hurt, bad. You kept on over drinking even though you knew how it would affect you later, you kept drinking because it was your only escape from this shitty place. This town fucking sucked if we're gonna be honest, you felt like no one liked you, no matter what you did nothing was ever good enough, you wanted to leave, go explore but you couldn't you were stuck here due to the fact you don't have enough money to actually live yourself. Not only that but the people sucked. The mayor? He's absolute shit, making the farmer do all the work at this point. The people? Well some were nice but other times they're assholes if they don't know you well enough which sucked, a few were nice but... the town just sucked in general. All you could really do was just wallow in pity and drink your problems away, all your insecurities, it all felt like they were gone once you grabbed that bottle. You know it's wrong though, it hurt and tasted awful at first but you're slowly getting used to the feelings, sometimes you wonder if you should upgrade from alcohol to something more strong... maybe it'll help more? Right..?... fuck.
You groaned as you rubbed the side of your head. It hurt like hell. You had dark circles under your eyes, your hair was all messed up and frizzy, your lips were chapped and dry. It was quite obvious you weren't properly taking care of yourself, it could be spotted from a mile away. All of a sudden as you twist and turned in your bed you spotted your father, Shane, entering the room. You groaned and got up, quickly rubbing your eyes and fixing up your hair. "Hey, kiddo, you alright?" Shane asked. You nodded, giving him a quick hum as you put your shoes on, you didn't want your dad seeing you like this, you'd rather make a quick get away than let him see you not taking care of yourself because you know damn well he'd give you some long ass talk that you just don't have the patience to deal with today. "Mhm, I'll see you later dad." You mutter as you lazily tied your shoelaces, you quickly left your dad there with a concerned look on his face.
You made your way over to the Stardrop Saloon, as you made your way there you checked your pockets, quickly looking at the money you had to make sure you had enough to buy a beer or something of that sort. "Oh fuck yeah." You mutter as you saw you had just enough for one! You hummed as you made your way to the Saloon. You quickly threw the door open, making Gus raise a brow as he looked at you, he let out a small groan as he saw your face, even he was a bit concerned since you had been coming there more often. "The usual?" He asked earning a quick nod out of you. You sat down on one of the seats, quickly handing him the gold. He counted it before he raised a brow once he finished. "Uh, it's not enough, you're missing 2 gold." Gus said before he handed back the money, going back to cleaning a cup. You give him a confused stare. "The hell you mean I'm missing 2 gold? It's the same amount of money I gave you a week ago for a beer!" You exclaimed, you quickly lowered your voice as you saw the strange stares some of the people gave you. You cleared your throat slightly before shutting up. "Mhm, well the prices were raised recently." explained Gus, causing you to roll your eyes. "It's just 2 gold, come on! I'll pay the 2 gold tomorrow!" You negotiated, all Gus did was shake his head. "Sorry, I can't trust you to pay it tomorrow." Gus replied. You scoffed as you got off the chair. "Ugh.. fine, I'll see ya tomorrow I guess. Bye Gus." You grumbled as you made your way out the door. You let out a yawn, making your way back home.
You uttered curses under your breath as you made your way home. You leaned your head back, looking up at the stars as you followed the path back home. The sky was beautiful, sometimes you wondered what it would be like to be up there. Perhaps you would make a beautiful sky? Fuck, why are you thinking like this? Damnit. 'Just.. just focus on making it home' You thought to yourself. You turned your head to the side, taking notice of how the grass was blown ever so slightly by the gentle wind. Crickets chirped and the moon's light shun onto the grass and onto a lonely, empty bench. You stared silently at it for a while. 'A break from walking isn't so bad.' You though before making you way and plopping down onto it. You kept your hands in your hoodie pockets, your head leaning to the side as you looked up at the night sky. Your headache slowly started to come back as you finally tried to relax. Your eye-lids started feeling heavy, a soft sigh escaped as you your head leaned left, you felt so damn tired, you could just sleep right then and there. As you started to shut your eyes you felt a tap on your shoulder, causing you to almost immediately jump. "AH WHAT THE FUCK-" You yelled when you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing Shane to stare a bit shocked from your reaction. "Wow, calm down there kiddo." Shane said, taking his hand off. You let out a relieved sigh realizing it was just your dad. You clutched your chest as you calmed your breathing. "Ah- shit.. sorry dad you scared me there." You uttered.
Shane nodded in acknowledgment. "Is this spot taken?" he asked, obviously knowing the answer but wanting to check if his child was comfortable enough to let him sit near them. You shook your head. "No- uh no, sit if you want." You reply while rubbing the side of your neck awkwardly from the earlier exchange. You did not mean to scream that loud, damn. Shane nodded, quickly taking a seat next to his kid. You kept your obvious distance from him though, and it was quite obvious form the space between you two. "Uh, hey kid. Look, we gotta talk." Shane spoke softly, yet there was a hint of concern in his tone, he looked over at you. You raised a brow, you looked up at him for a bit before quickly looking away, leaning your head the opposite of where he was sitting. "Hm? 'Bout what?" You asked, crossing your arms and biting the side of your nails. "About your... problem with alcohol." Shane said bluntly, damn, just straight to the point. You almost choke on your spit, you continued to bite the side of your nails, your eyes grew wide before you shook your head, calming yourself down ever so slightly. "The hell are you talking about dad?" You ask, playing dumb. He furrowed his brows before placing a rough hand on your shoulder. "Don't act dumb, I know what you've been doing." Shane said, he was trying to be as calm as possible, his tone showed how worried he was though, you were going down the same path as he did before he had you, and he can't bear to see that. You tense up as his hand was roughly placed on your shoulder. You immediately pull his hand away. "THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? I told you I'm not doing anything!?" You yell. You furrow your brows, your eyes squinting slightly as you did so. He seemed a bit surprised by your sudden snap. "Hey, calm down." Shane said calmly, he put his hands onto his lap, understanding you didn't want to be touched right now.
"Look, I know you want to act like nothing's happening, but I can tell when somethings wrong. You're my child, I don't want you hiding things from me, especially if it's making you make the same mistakes I did before." Shane explained, he stared at you while you looked away from him. "What are you talking about?" You ask, "I found the bottle under your bed kid. I know what you've been doing." Shane replied calmly. You immediately turned your head to look over at him, eyes wide. Fuck, you forgot to throw that bottle away. "Fffuck." You muttered, you rubbed the bridge of your nose in frustration, slouching as you rested your elbows on your knees. Your breath got shaky as you started to feel tears swell up in the inner corners of your eyes. Shane almost immediately noticed, he quickly placed a hand on your back, rubbing your back in circles. "Hey, hey, it's okay I'm not mad nor am I disappointed, okay? Hey it's okay." Shane reassured, yet you couldn't help but feel like such a disappointment. How could you be so damn stupid and let him find out? How could you let your dad down like this? You couldn't help but cry.
Shane took immediate notice, although he wasn't the best when it comes to comforting, especially comforting people, he tried. He pulled you into a quick embrace. Rubbing circles on your back as you cried. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad, I'll never be angry at you for something like this kid, so don't worry about whether I am or not, because I genuinely inly am not. I'm just worried on why you would look for comfort in drinking instead of telling me how you feel. Do you not trust me maybe?" Shane asked as he continued to keep you in a warm embrace. You shook your head. "No no no no it's not that... it's not that at all, I hic- just I.. I can't bring myself to.. to tell you any of the things I feel I-I feel bad doing that I don't want to burden you pa." You explain between sobs, trying your best not to make Shane feel like a bad father, because he wasn't he tried his best to stray you from the same path he had gone through yet here you were, going down the same road. You couldn't help but feel like you disappointed him because of that. Shane nodded in acknowledgment, he grabbed your cheeks and wiped away your tears gently with one hand while the other kept rubbing circles on your back in a calming motion. "Alright alright, I understand. But please, please for the love of god tell me whatever is happening, I don't want you to end up like how I did. You don't deserve that kiddo, you deserve to be happy. I learned from my mistakes which is why I never wanted you to go down the same path of addiction I went through. Please, whatever's happening tell me and I'll support you through it, not just because I don't want you to end up like how I did, but because I'm your dad. That's what I'm ment to do, help through difficult times. I know you can't help it but don't feel bad for reaching out to your own dad." He reminded you. "I love you kiddo, I'm your dad and I'm going to help you get through this alright, we'll get proper help because I don't want to lose you. I've gone through the same thing and this.. I know how it feels but... you don't have to do this kid."
You nodded in acknowledgment, it felt good to have him reassure you like this. It helped you realize how much you really mean to him. "Thanks dad..." You mumbled, your voice cracked ever so slightly, your voice also showed how tired you really were. You clung onto him. He sighed before picking you up like a child, although you were an adult he could kinda carry you easily. You let out a muffled sigh as you clung onto him, your eye-lids feeling heavier. You closed them and felt close to drifting off to sleep, but your headache would not allow you to. "My head hurts." You mutter. Shane nods in acknowledgment as he carries you back home. "Don't worry kiddo I'll give you medicine when we get home." Shane replied. You nodded slightly before giving him a hum of acknowledgment.
"I love you kid, and I'm going to help you no matter what"
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Ramshackle: 02 - Dust
Tall tales of the wasteland told of people with supernatural powers- telepathy or future sight, zoolingualism or pyrokinesis. Something very few wastelanders know is that these people- psykers- are a lot more common than it might be assumed. Children who talk to relatives already passed on, mothers with an instinct like a “third eye in the back of her head,” a scavenger who feels an icy chill down their back when they touch a once-treasured antique.
Dusty Butters,* the local almanac writer, sat at a table in the Greatest Of All Taverns in the heart of Ramshackle. Around him were his writing supplies- a few large tattered handwritten books, some ancient calendars, penciled with notes, and some tidal wave tables. Dusty’s left hand held a pencil, a line scrawled in the notebook under his right. It held a supernatural magazine, a personal indulgence of his that the general store humored.
In spite of the mess, the Dusty Almanac had a reputation, especially with the farmers of the Lahontan Valley- never an inaccurate timetable, always perfect days chosen to plant. Those who celebrated always appreciated his Lunar Calendar additions, which he started including after getting letters back with a request, once under a plate of chow mein and stir-fried vegetables. Well, that one was actually a placemat that happened to have the lunar calendar of 2192 and zodiac years ahead, but he pocketed it for the Almanac anyway.
He drifted back to earth, having been floating on the words of a ridiculous alien story. Dusty blinked back into focus, and got a sense of something in the air. He gathered his things up a little urgently, slid them into a ratty messenger bag, and got up to use the bathroom.
Closer to the material plane, a Brotherhood scribe sat at a table, staring at a Pipboy interface as she ate. Bookish and almost completely immersed in whatever task she was trying to do on her lunch hour, she missed when a woman in blue pants approached her table.
The proprietor kept one eye on them, and slowly moved a few bottlecap strings into the safe under the counter. He kept his hand lowered behind the counter for a moment, shoulders tilted, and stifled a reassuring nod. Then turned his head so that he was definitely not watching the two women about to make a mess of things.
“Awful neat little gadget you got there, honey.”
The scribe looked up, turning a dial to switch tasks on the Pipboy, red sleeve dragging across the table. “Yes, I have been using it to access terminals back in California.”
“Impressive! My family used them for generations. Y’know, the day-to-day stuff, diary entries, family photos.”
“Part of the procedure for becoming a citizen after your family left the vault is a printing of the most important family photos. I take it Sheriff McNulty walked your family through that when he retrieved their pipboys?”
“Oh yeah. He let them have their allotted five printed four-by-sixes. Couldn’t keep the medical tracker program though, even if Grandpappy built that all his own. Lotta good a single holotape’ll do without a terminal, babe.”
Scribe Dufort turned a dial, setting aside the files for later and adjusted her glasses to look up at the Ramshackle citizen who approached her. “I’m sure ‘Grandpappy’ was plenty useful to the vault with ingenious programming skills like that, since you’re out here.”
Less than a second passed before Janey went for Scribe Dufort’s eyes. Scribe Dufort, a member of the Brotherhood, fell back on some rusty hand to hand training, but not before she fell back. She raised her arms as her legs flailed between the chair legs, tangled up and unprepared. Janey dove for her, though her face was blocked by forearms raised in a cross. She held onto that momentum to make the fall over the chair as painful as possible, ignoring a sharp pain as her hip clipped the end of the table. The scribe’s plate and sandwich scattered next to her head, making a clattering sound as clay met ancient wood polished by a hundred years of footsteps.
Scribe Dufort swung her legs and chair against Janey, kicking her off as she struggled to grip her wrists, another attempt to avoid being choked. Her heavy red scribe robe did very little to let her legs kick the full range however; as Janey kicked out the braces between the chair legs and wrenched out of Dufort’s grip. Her fury spurred her on, screaming as she reached for glasses on the scribe’s face, loosened by the fall but not thrown off yet.
“Ma’am!” The proprietor slammed a wooden cup against the bar, a huge echoing clapped their ears and halted them in their tracks. The scant few other patrons clung to the walls of the Greatest of All Taverns. One of them quietly crab-walked for the exit, never facing away from the fight.
Janey straddled Scribe Dufort’s waist, her hand on Janey’s throat as Janey’s hand had wrapped around her glasses. The proprietor of the Greatest of All Taverns stepped slowly from behind the bar. Janey seized the opportunity to crush the glasses in her hand, popping the lenses out and warping the frames, just so. Scribe Dufort closed her grip further. Janey made a wretched sound as her airway closed, a cough forcing its way out.
He rounded the corner with a double barrel shotgun leveled in their direction. Janey let go of the glasses and raised her hands in a sign of surrender, still coughing haggardly. Scribe Dufort stared down the barrels of the gun and quickly copied the gesture against the floor.
“Ain’t none of that happening here. Not at the GOAT. Now you’re both gonna sit right there while Olive gets the deputy. And then y’all are gonna have a little talk.”
There was barely time for a heartbeat after he had finished the sentence before Olive turned and ran out with a clatter.
Nobody dared to breathe. After a few long, agonizing seconds of silence, Janey shifted and slid off of Scribe Dufort, slow as she eyed the gently swaying weapon. Dufort examined the damage on her glasses and quickly gave up on mending them for the time being. She collected herself instead, pushing into a kneel as she slid stray strands back into the tight bun. Janey sat back onto her own knees, a nervous smiler even under threat of shotgun pellets.
Both kept their hands in front of them. Low, open, and where he could see them.
Minutes, or perhaps ages, passed before a new figure arrived, followed closely by the tall silhouette of Olive. The deputy approached, eyeing the weapon warily before examining the pair.
The deputy arrived to see the shotgun aimed exactly where it was when Olive left; the both of them. Olive lingered behind, afraid to be in the way and yet still stretching her legs and back to get an eyewitness view.
“Afternoon, sir. And ladies. I’m thinkin’ y’all have disturbed his business operations enough. The sheriff will be wantin’ to talk to you both anyways.” He tipped his white cowboy hat to the rest of the patrons as he stepped forward, handcuffing both women. “As we take serious the order we’re trying to maintain here. Got to have both sides. And Miss Olive, I hope you don’t mind us taking more of your time, as you reported it.”
“She can do that.” With the arrests made, the shotgun was stowed behind the counter in its resting place.
The proprietor of the Greatest of All Taverns sat back down behind the bar. Dusty opened the bathroom door and snuck out the back.
-----
*Chose the name. Told no one the old name after he changed it. Anyone old enough is too senile to be believed.
#falloutfun#fallout#Fallout: Ramshackle#fanfic#vault dwellers#brotherhood of steel#psyker#dusty butters
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HELIOPAUSE ($350 usd)
i am offering the heliopause skin for sale. this is your chance to have a skin by me with minor edits to customize it for your site. it is currently set up for a fantasy/animanga setting, but i am willing to make minor edits for you to fit your site and will install/customize it for free. this is a one time sale.
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all sales final, i will release skin and codes to buyer upon full payment. you may not sell my skin at a later time should you purchase. you may see my pricing page for further information on my terms and conditions.
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Tainted Heart Corrupted Soul
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/M4l7D6S
by GingerbreadRunsAway
The last thing Dazai expected when he'd walked into work at a(n almost) reasonable time was a strangely dressed Akutagawa perched on the edge of his desk and an equally strangely dressed Atsushi who was sat in his chair. All the while, the rest of the ADA stood shock-still gaping at the scene – Atsushi being most disturbed by the sight of Akutagawa and his doppelgan-
...wait a second...huh?
A.K.A. BEAST!Shin Soukoku arrive in the original world to request Dazai's help dealing with the latest danger in Yokohama: Nakahara Chuuya.
Words: 2192, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: M/M
Characters: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Izumi Kyouka (Bungou Stray Dogs), Armed Detective Agency Ensemble (Bungou Stray Dogs), Port Mafia Ensemble (Bungou Stray Dogs), Armed Detective Agency and Port Mafia Ensembles (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), All the other detectives are here too but their roles are relatively minor, Ozaki Kouyou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Tachihara Michizou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Again the rest of the PM are here just not very key to the story
Relationships: Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Edogawa Ranpo/Edgar Allan Poe (Bungou Stray Dogs), I didnt realise all the best BSD ships were gay - lol, Dazai Osamu & Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Izumi Kyouka & Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke & Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa & Dazai & Izumi & Nakahara & Nakajima (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu & Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya & Ozaki Kouyou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya & Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya & Tachihara Michizou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Izumi Kyouka & Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke & Izumi Kyouka (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya & Izumi Kyouka & Ozaki Kouyou (Bungou Stray Dogs)
Additional Tags: Soukoku | Double Black (Bungou Stray Dogs), Shin Soukoku | New Double Black (Bungou Stray Dogs), BEAST Soukoku | Doubke Black (Bungou Stray Dogs), Toxic Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), - mostly because BEAST Dazai was a toxic guy, Nakahara Chuuya Uses Corruption (Bungou Stray Dogs), Light Novel: BEAST - White Akutagawa/Black Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Alternate Universe - BEAST Light Novel (Bungou Stray Dogs), Apocalypse, sorta - Freeform, Everything in the BEAST universe is going to shit basically, Aftermath of Port Mafia Boss Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Violence, Self-Destruction, Nakahara Chuuya Needs a Hug (Bungou Stray Dogs), Soukoku Angst (Bungou Stray Dogs), Rating May Change, Story is going to get dark, Fluff, Soft Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), BEAST them are cute and fluffy, I have decided, they will be cute with each other and freak out the originals lol, – that being said, Angst, Hurt, Angst and Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending?, maybe? - Freeform, we'll see...
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/M4l7D6S
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Business Process Management Market Application, By Region, Company Profile, Revenue, Sales Volume Status and Future Forecast 2030
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And in this report, we analyze global market from 5 geographies: Asia-Pacific[China, Southeast Asia, India, Japan, Korea, Western Asia], Europe[Germany, UK, France, Italy, Russia, Spain, Netherlands, Turkey, Switzerland], North America[United States, Canada, Mexico], Middle East & Africa[GCC, North Africa, South Africa], South America[Brazil, Argentina, Columbia, Chile, Peru].
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Finally, the report provides detailed profile and data information analysis of leading Business Process Management company.
Leading players of Business Process Management including:
IBM Corp.
Ricoh
Microsoft Corp.
Oracle Corp
SAPSE
TIBCO Software
WebMethodsI
Appian Corp.
360 Group
BizFlow Corp
TIBCO Software
EMC Corp.
Pegasystems
Inc.
Ultimus
Business Process Management Market split by Type, can be divided into:
Automation
Process Modelling
Content & Document Management
Monitoring & Optimization
Business Process Management Market split by Application, can be divided into:
BFSI
IT & Telecom
Retail
Manufacturing
Healthcare
Government & Defense
Business Process Management Market Report Scope
Report AttributeDetails
Base year of estimation2021
Historical data2017 – 2020
Forecast period2022 – 2030
Quantitative unitsRevenue in USD million/billion and CAGR from 2022 to 2030
Segmentation
By Type
By Application
By Region/Country
By Type Automation, Process Modelling, Content & Document Management, Monitoring & Optimization
By Application BFSI, IT & Telecom, Retail, Manufacturing, Healthcare, Government & Defense
Report coverageRevenue forecast, company market share, competitive landscape, growth factors, and trends
Key companies profiledIBM Corp., Ricoh, Microsoft Corp., Oracle Corp, SAPSE, TIBCO Software, WebMethodsI, Appian Corp., 360 Group, BizFlow Corp, TIBCO Software, EMC Corp., Pegasystems, Inc., Ultimus
Regional scope
North America (United States, Canada and Mexico)
Europe (Germany, UK, France, Italy, Russia and Spain etc.)
Asia-Pacific (China, Japan, Korea, India, Australia and Southeast Asia etc.)
South America (Brazil, Argentina and Colombia etc.)
Middle East & Africa (South Africa, UAE and Saudi Arabia etc.)
What our report offers:
– Market share assessments for the regional and country-level segments
– Strategic recommendations for the new entrants
– Covers Market data for the years 2020, 2021, 2022, 2025, and 2030
– Market Trends (Drivers, Constraints, Opportunities, Threats, Challenges, Investment Opportunities, and recommendations)
– Strategic recommendations in key business segments based on the market estimations
– Competitive landscaping mapping the key common trends
– Company profiling with detailed strategies, financials, and recent developments
– Supply chain trends mapping the latest technological advancements
Free Customization Offerings:
All the customers of this report will be entitled to receive one of the following free customization options:
• Company Profiling
o Comprehensive profiling of additional market players (up to 3)
o SWOT Analysis of key players (up to 3)
• Regional Segmentation
o Market estimations, Forecasts and CAGR of any prominent country as per the client’s interest (Note: Depends on feasibility check)
• Competitive Benchmarking
o Benchmarking of key players based on product portfolio, geographical presence, and strategic alliances
Related Reports :
Forced Convection Furnaces Market: https://www.newstrail.com/foodservice-disposables-distribution-systems-market/
Forged Rolls Market : https://www.newstrail.com/forged-rolls-market/
Forging Press Machine Market : https://www.newstrail.com/forging-press-machine-market/
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What is Trenchless Sewer Repair?
Homeowners like you should expect your sewer lines to obtain problems over time. But it doesn’t mean that for every leak, crack, or malfunction that your system has, you’ll assume excavation would fix the problem. Fortunately, a less disruptive method of repairing sewer pipes is available for your homes known as trenchless sewer repair.
Read the full article here: What is Trenchless Sewer Repair?
What is Trenchless sewer repair?
A trenchless sewer repair is a technique in repairing sewer pipes that brings back the form of an existing pipe internally without disruptive digging.
What are the benefits of trenchless sewer repair?
It typically takes one day or less to complete compared to traditional repairs that usually last for more days before the project is done. Since the task doesn’t require deep excavation, trenchless sewer repairs will barely touch your landscapes and driveways giving you peace of mind.
How trenchless sewer repair works?
For a trenchless way of repairing your sewer lines, a professional plumber should determine the location of the problem. A camera inspection is done and the extent of the damage is verified. Once the damaged pipe is detected, the plumber should decide what type of method is suitable to repair the problem.
What are the types of trenchless sewer repair?
Pipe relining
Pipe bursting
Is Trenchless sewer repair the right option for my home?
There are many reasons why your sewer lines are damaged. If you have any of these problems, then a trenchless sewer repair is a good option for your home:
Damaged pipes due to tree roots
Serious obstructions caused by household debris such as hard to remove gunk
Pipes that frequently leaks due to improper installation
Damaged pipes from freeze or thaw cycle
Pipes damaged by settling soil
Hard to reach pipes that are buried beneath buildings
Are You Looking for Trenchless Sewer Repair in Seattle, WA?
If you’re looking for trenchless sewer repair or replacement service call us and we could provide you with the latest sewer methods and pipe bursting technology. Our trenchless sewer repair and trenchless sewer replacement methods save you on cost and time.
Phone: (206) 676-2192
Email: [email protected]
Related Articles:
Where Does Sewer Waste Go?
What You Need to Know About Trenchless Sewer Repair Cost
How to Prevent Sewer Backup
When Should I Request Sewer Repair Service?
What Are the Most Common Sewer Problems for Homeowners?
How Often Do Sewer Lines Need To Be Replaced?
3 Best Ways to Maintain a Sewer Line
Other Plumbing Services
Sewer and Drain Service
Excavation and Concrete Work
Drain Cleaning
General Plumbing
Hydro Jetting
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After Hours
Request: College!Reader fucking Professor!Barber in the library. She was supposed to be studying, but Andy needs her, it’s been a couple of weeks.
Pairing: College!Reader x Professor!Barber
Word count: 2192
Rating: explicit, 18+ only
Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral (f receiving) fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, SMUT
A/N: MINORS DNI, PLEASE! DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE GIVEN WARNINGS!!!! Lovely divider by @firefly-graphics . Thank you for this lovely request @danneelsmain . YAS, Professor Barber wants to see you in the library. This went so wrong so quickly and my brain had absolutely no chill whatsoever. Hopefully this satisfies your need for the pussy destroying babe, Professor Barber.
This is only lightly proofread, all mistakes are my own. Also everything under the cut, we dive right in.
By clicking on keep reading you agree to be 18+ or over!!
Your mind had been playing the afternoon you had spent with Professor Barber over and over again. It felt like he had cast a spell on you and you hadn’t been able to focus while studying or doing any of your essay research. He had told you how he had observed you during lectures and how he noticed how you eye-fucked him and how he had waited patiently to devour you.
You had been in his office while demanding why your grades had dropped. Instead of gaining knowledge from the books, you gained extensive knowledge of Professor Barber’s cock.
The way his mouth had transcended you to a state of bliss, one you had never visited before. The beard had burned deliciously between your thighs as he hungrily lapped at the seeping juices. No frat boy had ever come close to having hit the spots within you like Professor Barber had done.
“Oh you make me feel so fucking good, Professor.” You mewled gasping through the attack on your pussy as he pounded into you.
“I wanna see you fall apart for me. Can you cum for me? Cum for me right now.” He growled as he ruined you. His cock applied the right amount of pleasure to your cushioned spot as your walls clenched around his cock.
Your arousal seeped from your core as he rutted his hips. The heavy slaps of his balls against your flesh only added to the sensation. An obscene moan escaped as the intense orgasm coursed your body.
He had expressed his desire for you when he saw you in one of the book aisles. Working you open with his hand pretending to be talking to you. Books had fallen from your hands as you bit down your lip hard withholding the scream of his name. Tears had slipped from the corners of your eyes as the ecstasy sent you over the edge.
His mighty fingers had felt like magic inside you. Your clit strum by his thumbs, your soaked walls polished by his digits. It had been long and rough weeks since you had denied him and his offer. All that had been weeks ago.
You jolted awake when you were roughly shook. You blinked your eyes as you looked around, meeting Professor Barber’s gaze. He stared you down with a stern look and you returned it with an awkward smile.
“Sorry, Professor. I fell asleep, it’s been an exhausting few weeks studying for all these finals. Doing research for my ess-”
He cut you off. “I’m sure.” His tone unamused, raising his brow. “Keep up sleeping and you’ll fail my class - again.” You weren’t sure if it had been a threat and bit your bottom lip with a little frustration.
“What time is it?” You frantically started searching the large table as you lifted your books and notes trying to find your phone. It was more of a reaction to get out of this accidental meet up.
“Late enough for you and I to be the only ones left on campus.” He announced, his fingers feathered down your cheek and you swallowed hard when he rested his hand on your shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze.
Your knuckles turned white from the tight grip on one of the books. He had a hold on you, one that felt like a supernatural bond. Right this moment you felt the electricity from his touch.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He stated.
“I-I, no-no, I-I haven’t.” You stammered not being able to think of an excuse.
You had made it your mission to avoid him at all costs yet the thought of him had hunted you on a daily basis. Thinking about the velvet feel of his fingers and how greedily your cunt had swallowed his cock. You didn’t want to get your feelings crushed. You had longed for him and when you pleased yourself at night it had been his name that fell from your lips.
He pulled you off your chair, making you face him. You looked down trying to dodge his gaze. He tutted and lifted your chin gently forcing you to look at him.
“I’ve been thinking about you and I know you have been thinking about me.” His words were calm and calculated as he studied your face with furrowed brows. “I don’t appreciate being denied your sweet cunt for the last three weeks. You can tease me all you want, but you’ll end up around my cock every time as punishment.”
He let go of your chin as you relaxed at his words. It felt good to know he had longed for you too. His hands stroked down your arms, snaking their way to you back, resting his palms on your ass. He rubbed the surface of your clothed cheeks making you gasp when he gave them a rough squeeze.
His mouth found yours and his tongue easily dominated over your shocked state. Your thoughts ran a million miles an hour as you tried to give in to what Professor Barber was giving you. You pressed your hands firmly against his chest and pushed away forcefully breaking the searing kiss.
“What is it, sweetheart?” He whispered against your lips.
“Don’t, Professor.” You pressed a finger to his lips. “We simply can’t.”
“I told you to call me, Andy. We can and we have. You know how I feel about you, I’m willing to take the risk.” His hands cupped your face.
This was your final year before officially graduating. Was it worth the risk of putting this last year in jeopardy, putting his job in danger while you both got off on each other? Was stealing glances going to be enough for the rest of the year? We’re those small moments going to be enough to keep your aching pussy from Professor Barber – from Andy?
“Don’t overthink this.” Caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I see the looks you give me during lectures. I see how your thighs clench together. Telling me that your pussy is weeping for my hard cock. I see it all.” He whispered against your lips pressing his forehead against yours. “My cock will always want you.” He urged, pressing his body against yours letting you feel his growing length.
“I can’t. We shouldn’t. It’s a small town, it won’t go unnoticed.” Your hands grabbed his wrists, trying to hold on to whatever connection this was.
“You’re complicating the entire situation. There is mutual desire and in return I want some company and treat you.”
“Like a fucking sugar daddy, Profe - Andy.” You corrected yourself by taking a few steps back letting his wrists fall from your hands.
“If that’s what you believe.”
“It is what I believe, convince me otherwise.” You shook your head and a moment of silence was shared. You dropped your head and observed your shoes feeling your anxiety rising.
Andy cleared his throat. “Can I show you?” Your head snapped up being thrown off by his question.
Andy Barber never asked, he always took what was his. He had claimed you on many occasions during your run-ins on campus. Why were you suddenly the exception in this equation? His eyes thundered with darkness and you bit your lip. There was no more denying him, you simply couldn’t stay away from what he offered you.
You had to give in to your own feelings, stealing glances would never suffice. Your weeping cunt would never be satisfied. It would never be as good with anyone else. Andy Barber had simply ruined you.
Something in the atmosphere had changed and you were on him like a lion catching prey. His strong arms held you close to his broad chest, letting his hands roam up and down your back. The fiery aggression between your lips made you moan.
The air thick with lust as you bit and pulled his bottom lip. Like an untamed animal he grunted loudly and grabbed your ass lifting you up. Your legs circled his waist as he moved you on top of the table.
The books pressing against your ass should’ve been uncomfortable. But all you could focus on was the man kissing you like his life depended on it. His hand worked between your bodies, lifting up your dress and rubbed down on your clothed core.
“So wet already.” He murmured against your lips and you couldn’t help but smile shyly.
“Please.” You begged, but you needed more of what he was currently giving you, you needed to feel.
“Take off your clothes.” He ordered and you obliged to the bark. He shoved your notes and books off the table. “Get on the table.”
Andy fell to his knees, letting out a low growl when he spread your legs. The arousal shining from your pussy. He lapped his tongue firmly through your slit choked gasps leaving you. The kitten licks were deliberate and the coil started to boil rapidly as he continued with more intense strokes. His finger prodded your hole spreading the wetness as it multiplied from just his touch.
He groaned with satisfaction when you weren’t able to stop your moans and mewls. You felt your cunt flutter when he pushed in two fingers. They curled nicely within your walls while his mouth sucked on your clit and feasted on the sweet nectar.
Your hips bucked into his mouth as he worked you open with his fingers. Your hands played with your breasts, peaking the nipples into hard pebbles. Andy was the source of the fiery burn that set course through your body.
He hummed at the right grip of your cunt around his fingers. You were so close and your chants and gasps only proved that. Your eyes closed as you enjoyed the moment and allowed the ecstasy spread like wildfire. Andy skillfully worked you through your orgasm while your breathing steadied.
“Sir, this is a library we have to keep quiet.” You giggled meeting his lustful gaze.
“Security won’t check the library for another two hours. By then I’m taking you apart in my bed.” He whispered, leaning in to kiss you.
“Promises, promises.” You rolled your eyes
You shivered at his dark smile. “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”
He dropped his neat slacks to the floor, letting it pool around his ankles. He rubbed his tip through your soaked folds and slowly sank into your pussy. A deep kiss muffled out the loud keens as he filled you up. It took a few shallow thrust before they became more rapid.
Your quivering walls hungrily took his cock further and deeper. Pants and breaths leaving your throats. Your legs held in the air, holding himself steady while he rocked his hips into you. His punches hit all the right spots of your drenched hole.
“Fuck.” You breathed heavily. “I’m gon-na c-c-um.” You stuttered out. He leaned down pecking your lips as he ogled you. “Just like that, yes, please, god, YES!” Spurring him on to keep his pace. You wailed at his attack, enjoying the wide stretch he was providing combined with the rapid strokes within you.
Thin threads were holding on to the momentum. Tightening with every thrust and threatening to snap at any given moment. Your back arched off the table and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Only being able to see stars for a minute.
“So pretty.” Andy growled working you through another orgasm. Your thighs were sticky from the seeping liquid.
He held on to your shoulder running his thumb over your collarbone lovingly. Grunting as he speared into your sopping channel, chasing after his own high. Your cunt milking him with every rut, bringing him closer to his wanted edge.
You felt your overworked pussy getting worked up again. You had gripped his wrist and bit down on your lip. The delightful squelching sounds filling the lewd air.
“Let go for me. I’m so close.” Andy spoke, his fingers strummed down on your clit. His lips found yours as you moaned into each other’s mouths. Tongues colliding as you came undone. His spend filling you up with a few more shallow thrusts.
The intensity of your third orgasm had your body trembling. He collapsed on top of you, holding you close and kissing your temple and stroking your hair. For a moment it was just your heavy puffs filling the air.
“Never ever deny me that tight pussy again.” His tone held a firm warning, making you whimper when he pulled out his softened cock.
“What would happen if I did?” You teased, lolling your head to look at him.
“I’ll show you what real punishment looks like.” He tucked himself back in his underwear and made himself look presentable again.
“I might just test your patience there, Professor.” Dressing yourself again and picking up your notes and books.
“Just for having that thought, I’m going to make you beg for it - all.night.long.”
Your head shot his direction and your mouth fell open. This man was going to get you ruined for sure. But he was definitely going to be worth the risk.
A/N:
Your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!
I do not consent to have my works copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been posted without my permission or consent.
#lilos writing#andy barber#andy barber smut#andy barber x female!reader#andy barber x reader#andy barber x y/n#andy barber x you#professor!andy barber#college!reader#professor andy barber x college reader#professor!andy barber x college!reader#andy barber fanfiction#chris evans smut#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#lilos writing request
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new to school ~ tori vega;victorious
word count: 2192
request?: yes!
@queenbeam “Hey! I was wondering if you could do a request for Tori where the reader really likes musical theater, and is the sister of Beck, because we obviously need some heartthrob competition in there.”
description: in which, on her first day of school, she meets her brother’s friends and finds herself crushing on one of them
pairing: tori vega x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two)
“This is the lobby,” Beck said as we walked through the front doors of Hollywood Arts. “There’s some stairs, some classrooms, all the lockers.”
“I can see that,” I said. “They’re all the so brightly decorated. Which one is yours?”
He gestured to a transparent locker on the bottom row of lockers. He knelt down to open it, and hung up his jacket and threw his bag in.
“Why is it see through?” I asked.
“Why not?” Beck replied with a shrug. “I got nothing to hide.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do I get a cool locker to decorate too?”
“Eventually. You’ll have to go get your schedule and nap and stuff from the office first. I’ll show you the way.”
Being new to any school is incredibly nerve wracking, but being new to a somewhat prestigious performing arts school is a whole other nervous feeling. To add on to it, I am the little sister of one of the most popular guys in school. But no pressure or anything, right?
Unlike Beck, my passion was music. I had auditioned for Hollywood Arts with a singing piece and they accepted me on the spot. I somehow felt both excited and nervous to start leading up to my first day, and knowing that I wouldn’t have Beck to help me through most of the day made that nervous feeling even stronger.
The office gave me my schedule and a map to show me where my locker and all my classes were. Luckily, my first class of the day was a mandatory acting class with Beck and his friends.
The class was buzzing when Beck and I walked in. I recognized his girlfriend, Jade, who had two empty seats next to her, and sighed in relief to see another familiar face.
“Hey (Y/N),” she said when we walked in. “Welcome to the chaos that is Hollywood Arts.”
Beck took what I assumed was his usual spot next to Jade, so I had to sit on the other side of him. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room follow me as I walked to my seat. The moment I sat down, a girl with intensely red hair turned in her chair to look at me.
“Hi! I’m Cat!” she said. “Welcome to school!”
“Uh...thanks Cat,” I said, awkwardly smiling at her.
“Beck, aren’t you going to introduce us to your sister?” a boy with curly hair asked through the puppet on his lap.
“(Y/N), this is Cat, Robbie, Rex, Andre, and Tori,” Beck said, gesturing to his friends as he said their names. “Guys, this is (Y/N). She’s studying music and musical theater.”
They all chorused their hellos as I smiled and waved. For someone who was studying musical theater, I really did not enjoy being the center of attention.
The bell rang and saved me from any further awkwardness. The teacher, Mr. Sikowitz, entered in a hurry and stood on the stage at the front of the room.
“Alright class,” he started, “I hope you’re all prepared to do your scenes today.”
I felt a brief moment of relief knowing that I would be able to fade into the crowd of students for this class. It was my first day, I had no scene to prepare for presentation. I could just sit back and watch and get a feel for how things were going to be at Hollywood Arts.
“But before we start with that,” Mr. Sikowitz added, “it has come to my attention that we have a new student joining us today.”
Shit.
I shrunk down in my seat as all eyes turned to face me. I just wanted to melt into the floor and disappear forever.
“Come up and introduce yourself,” he continued. “Tell us what you’re studying, give us a little fun fact, anything!”
My heart was beating so loudly I was sure everyone in the room could hear it. I found myself standing without really meaning to, and slowly walked to the front of the room. I took the spot with Mr. Sikowitz used to be on the stage and turned to face everyone. It was a small room with a small class, but standing in front of them all made it feel like it was 10 times the size.
Maybe I’m not cut out for Hollywood Arts, I thought to myself. Or any performing arts school. If I can’t even stand in front of a small class without feeling like I’m going to throw up, how am I going to be able to pursue musical theatre.
“Hi,” I started, lamely. “I’m (Y/N), and I am Beck’s sister. I auditioned for Hollywood Arts over the weekend for musical theatre and they accepted me basically on the spot. My dream is to perform on stage, maybe like off Broadway shows and eventually make my way up to the real thing, I don’t know. I’m just really grateful to be here.”
“You must’ve been good to be accepted on the spot,” Andre commented. “The last time that happened was with Tori.”
“They didn’t accept me on the spot,” Tori said with a modest shrug.
“I’d rather not be reminded of the biggest mistake Hollywood Arts ever made,” Jade commented. “Actually, second biggest. Your sister was probably their biggest.”
There was a hum of agreement throughout the classroom.
“What did you sing to impress them that much?” Robbie asked, effectively bringing the attention back to me.
Before I could answer, Beck piped up and said, “You should sing your audition song for us!”
I glared at him as Sikowitz clapped his hands. “That’s a great idea, Beck! That’d be a fantastic way to really introduce yourself, not only to the class but also to performing arts as a whole.”
Everyone was looking at me expectantly and I knew there was no way I was getting out of this one. I sighed heavily, took a deep breath, and began to sing.
The song I had chosen for my audition was La Vie En Rose. My voice always sounded best with slow songs, so I knew it was a good choice in that area, but I also figured I could impress the principal by singing in French. I guess I was right on both fronts.
I started by singing the English lyrics, my voice filling the room. I could hear the unease in my voice, which was strange considering how much confidence I had when I auditioned for the principal. But then it was just the two of us, not a room full of people watching me.
I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was just in my room or in the shower, where I usually felt the most confident singing. Around halfway through the song, I switched to the French lyrics and sang them with ease. I had practiced the song so many times leading up to my audition to make sure I pronounced every French word correctly and I was able to keep up with the rhythm of the song.
I allowed myself to open my eyes and a sense of pride welled up within me to see the impressed look on my classmate’s faces. I could feel the confidence building in me as I neared the end of the song, my voice filling the otherwise empty room as I held the last note. Once it was evident that I was finished, the room erupted into applause. I felt my face burning as I did a quick bow and scurried back to my seat.
“That was amazing,” Mr. Sikowitz said. “You’re a fine addition to our school (Y/N).”
I smiled at his comment and mumbled a soft, “Thank you.”
The class continued as it was supposed to, but I could hardly concentrate on what was happening. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine, like maybe, I actually belonged in this school.
When the bell finally rang, everyone was quick to collect their things and leave. Everyone besides the girl who was sat in front of me, who Beck introduced as Tori.
“Hey,” she said, catching me before I could walk out the door. “I just wanted to tell you that I thought your song was great. Your voice is amazing.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling so wide it felt like my cheeks were hurting. I realized then how insane I must’ve looked and tried to stop. Tori chuckled at my attempts. “Sorry, I just figure I must look like a crazy person.”
“No, you just look happy. Which is good, you should be happy. It’s not as easy to get into Hollywood Arts as some people think. Although, they’ve definitely let some...not as talented people slip through the cracks.”
“Like your sister?” I asked.
Tori nodded. “Yeah. Let’s...let’s hope you won’t have to meet my sister any time soon.”
I hadn’t realized that the room had cleared out completely until Jade poked her head back in. “Hey (Y/N), are you c - ”
She stopped when she noticed Tori and I talking and immediately walked over to grab my arm. “No way, I do not want you tainted by her. You’re the only person I’m going to be able to stand in this school.”
“Leave them alone, Jade,” Beck said, also entering the room again. “Besides, (Y/N) and Tori have a lot in common. I’m sure they’ll get along great.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jade muttered. Beck gave her a look, to which she sighed and finally let go of my arm. “Fine, but if she becomes intolerable too, I blame you.”
Beck chuckled and put an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. This time, Tori and I actually followed them as they walked out of the classroom.
“What class do you have next?” Tori asked.
“Uh...” I looked quickly fumbled with my schedule, which I had just stuffed in my pocket before class began. “Ballet.”
“Me too! I’ll show you the way.”
We started walking down the hall together. Besides the hustle and bustle of the school hallway, it was a pretty silent walk. I wasn’t really sure what to say considering I had met Tori roughly half an hour ago, and Beck never really talked about his friends much, so I didn’t have any way to start an engaging conversation with her.
“So, what are you studying?” I finally asked, figuring that was as good of a place to start as any.
“Same as you basically,” she responded. “Although I’m not specifically focusing on musical theater or anything, but I want to improve on my singing, dancing, and acting. I’d like to be an actual musician after I graduate, but I know I have a long way to go before that happens.”
“Tell me about it,” I sighed. “Even with Hollywood Arts on my application, it’s still going to take so much to get into a performing arts college after I graduate.”
“I like that you’re planning ahead though. That’s really good.”
I shrugged. “I guess it is. Mom always says I just have really big dreams.”
“There’s nothing wrong with really big dreams.”
I finally tore my eyes away from the floor to look up at Tori and found she was already looking at me. Her brown eyes had a sort of light to them, one that I have only ever seen from Beck when he’s talking about something he loves, or he’s with Jade.
You’re reaching with that one, I told myself. Remember, you just met her. She’s probably just excited to talk about what she’s studying.
I realized I basically had been staring at her for a while, so I looked away and shrugged. “I guess not. As long as I can achieve them.”
“You will, it’ll just take time,” Tori said. “But I think you’ll get there. Your voice is absolutely amazing, any performing arts college that passed you up would seriously be missing out.”
Okay, now it’s getting hard to convince myself she’s not flirting.
“Thanks.”
The conversation ended there as we finally arrived to ballet class. I went to talk to the teacher about getting the right clothing and shoes for the class, as I had no idea that I would even need anything until the principal told me that morning. After she assured me that she would handle that, and gave me the right clothes for class.
Once I changed, I went to stand next to Tori for class. Luckily, the teacher decided to start easy with some stretches to prepare us for the lesson of the day.
“Hey,” Tori whispered as we were both stretching down to reach our toes. “Want to have lunch today?”
“Well, I already said I’d have lunch with Beck, but I assume you’ll be eating with us too.”
“Normally I do, but...maybe we could go somewhere off school grounds...just the two of us?”
She’s definitely flirting.
“In that case, yeah. I’d love to have lunch with you.”
As we stood back up, I could see the two wide smiles on both of our faces through the mirror in front of us.
#tori vega#tori vega imagine#tori vega x reader#victoria justice#victoria justice imagine#victoria justice x reader#victorious#victorious imagine#imagine#request#one shot#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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His Little Sister--Part Two
Word Count: 2192
Requested By: @myinconnelly1 She hyped it up for me and I am glad she did! The part where the Fan ask a questions was all her idea and I love it!
Pairing: Jared x Reader
Characters: Reader, Jared, Jensen, Richard Speight Jr, Misha, Alex, Rob Benedict, Fans, Cliff (Mentioned), Danneel Ackles (Mentioned). Ackles Twins (Mentioned).
About: Months have gone by and the Reader and Sam have successfully (and playfully) hidden their relationship from Jensen. But during a convention, the Reader and Sam don’t know that their soft conversation was heard by a fan who asks Jensen his thoughts about it in front of everyone.
Disclaimer: Language, Quickie (Unprotected--Don’t be silly wrap that willy), Angst, Fluff, Possible Pregnant Reader,
Disclaimer 2: Any of the shorts that are hot and steamy, I want to put out there that it's in no way disrespectful towards Gen at all. I love her to death and respect that marriage between her and Jared. So when reading those shorts, know that it all takes place in an alternate world where they aren't married at all.
Forever Tag List: @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @hobby27 @magssteenkamp @elansaidaris @440mxs-wife
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Read PART ONE
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I hold tight to the extra as he takes the fake blade out of themselves and stabs me with it. I pop the 'blood' capsule in my mouth and let it trickle out the corner of my mouth. I chuckle and take a step towards the fake cliff edge.
"Opheila, No!" Jared yells his line from a distance. I turn to him and give a smile smile before turning back to the extra.
"This is for Claire," I say my line in a wicked tone as the extra and I fall five feet into the giant air bag waiting for us below.
"Cut!" Rich yells from his chair. "Now that's what I call a wrap up!"
The extra and I roll off the bag. Jensen is waiting for me on the ground. "That was awesome," he says steadying me. I eye Jared off in the distance. He looks me up and down and winks at me before walking off. We have plans to meet up later.
Jared and I had been sleeping together for some months now. We had plans on telling my brother but, we kind of like the sneaking around. And since we were seeing each other secretly and having amazing hot sex, it made our characters chemistry on set better. Jensen and everyone just thought that it was amazing acting. So what everyone saw as Sam touching and or kissing Opheila, was actually Jared touching and or kissing me.
"So," Jensen and I walk back to the make up area so I can get this thick make up off my face. I feel like a part time clown and part time stripper. "What do you say we go out and celebrate tonight. It'll be me, you, Jared, maybe that chick Jared had talked to months ago, and that extra that keeps checking you out."
I choke on my water. "Jared says that chick," I say chick as smooth as I can. "wasn't what he's looking for. It wasn't going anywhere. Plus what extra?"
Jensen pulls me close to him and points to a dude all dressed up in black. "The demon that you killed before your fall with Claire's killer. He's been looking at you all freaking week and I've talked with him a few times. You might actually like him. Maybe get you back into the dating game."
I choke again. "We will see about that."
After I'm make up I free. I avoid my brother at all costs. I even avoid the journalist that have been hounding me for months. Ever since word had gotten out about my return to acting. every magazine and online news outlets wanted some part of me. And it wasn't because I was on Riverdale before it was because I am YN Ackles the little sister to Jensen.
I do a million double takes as I walk towards Jareds trailer. No one and I mean no one knew about us. We hid it that well. I get to his door when a voice stops me.
"Hey," it's Misha. "Tell that knuckle head it's on." He tosses an empty bottle of fart spray towards me. I barely catch it and realize it still has a smell.
"Oh God, "I make a face and throw it back Misha. "You're fucking gross, Misha." Misha dodges it and laughs as he walks away. The guys and their games and pranks. One of these days one of their pranks are going to back fire on them. Now that will be worth watching.
I walk into the trailer and once the door closes, Jared hands are pulling me away from the visible windows and pushing me up on the wall where no one can see us. "Took you long enough," His voice purrs into my ear as he unbuttons my shirt. I close my eyes and exhale. This is the best way to relax after a day like this.
"Sorry," I fumble with my belt and pants. "I was too busy loosing my brother on set." I finally get my belt off and pants undone. I push Jared back towards his bed, he's already working on his pants. I kick my pants off and throw my already unbuttoned shirt to the side. I walk up to Jared, whose now just in his boxers. His hard erection extremely visible. The throbbing and wetness in my core is screaming for it to be inside of me.
I push Jared onto his bed and straddle his lap. His cock poking me hard through our thin underwear. Jared reaches down between us and shoves not only his underwear off but mine as well. I lift myself up and slowly lower myself over his long, thick and throbbing cock. Jared groans and falls back onto the bed as I begin to move my hips up and down. He feels so good inside of me.
After a minute, Jared sits up and flips us over. He grabs my hands and pins them above my head and thrust deeper and faster inside of me. I bite my lip to keep myself from making a sound. A few small whimpers escape me. I kick my leg up and throw them around Jared waist to make sure he stays deep inside. Jared thrusts go from lightning fast to average and sloppy. He's close and I start to feel myself tighten hard around him.
I look into his eyes, "Don't pull out," I manage to get out in between thrusts and whimpers. With that, I feel Jared slam himself into me releasing everything he's got inside of me. I feel myself let go and arch myself into his chest. Jared slowly thrusts through both our orgasms.
"Wasn't my plan for it to be that short," Jared rolls over and pulls me to his chest. "Still amazing though." He kisses my head. "I love you YN."
"I love you, too, Jared," I take a deep breath until theres a knock on the trailer door.
***
A month as gone by and we are all back home. Jared and I are still seeing each other secretly. Jensen is doing interviews and such about this latest season of Supernatural. I have been contacted multiple time about bringing back my character on Riverdale. Today I gave the middle finger to them. They did me dirty by cutting me off from the show without telling me or let alone talking to me about it. I have a lot on my plate.
Dallas Con.
I walk out of the bathroom of my hotel room and see Jared sitting on the couch. His wringing his hands as he looks up at me. I hand him the stick in my hand. "This one says negative, but the one from last night for sure said positive." My period was a week late. It's never late. It's always been on time. Until now. Six tests later four say I could be pregnant but the other two say I may not be.
"We just keep testing," Jared sits it next to the other test I took from last night. "Until we know for sure."
"Babe," I sit next to him and take his hand. "Danneel needed a blood test with the twins after getting wonky test results like this. I'll call an OBGYN tomorrow and get in as soon as I can." I lean in and kiss him.
"Okay," Jared smiles. "I trust you." He stands up and I stand up with him. "Should we head on down?"
Walking down the hotel hallway, Jared stops us and looks at me. "You know, I can actually see this whole thing being possible."
"That I can convince you to rip a condom off and have you cum inside me," I say. My mind is in the same place. "And to not pull out when a condom isn't in play." Those nights and days where Jared cums in me were always the best.
"Quite a few times, actually," Jared licks his lips which he knows is a dead ass turn on for me. "If we are pregnant, we will need to tell Jensen." Jared leans down to kiss me. "You'll be an amazing mom."
The convention is a blast. We laugh and joke about our time on set. We even answer questions about Sam and Opheila. I don't think I have ever laughed that hard before. Everything was settling down and it was my cue to go off stage. As I am walking off I hear the next question.
"This one is for Jensen," a fan says.
"Ha! Mine," Jensen playfully pushes Jared.
"How do you feel about YN being pregnant, becoming an uncle, and Jared being officially apart of the family?"
I spin around wondering if I heard that right. Jared chokes on his water. My brother's eyes widen. Rich and Rob both have their mouths hanging open. I feel the color drain from my face. I look back to see Misha and Alex staring too. The whole ball room is quite. I look back and lock eyes with Jared. How the hell did this fan know?
"What's that?" Jensen asks looking my way.
"How do you feel about your sister and Jared becoming parents?" the Fan asked again. This time there was something in her voice that knew that no one knew.
"Um," Jensen looks back at Jared. The look on his face was unreadable. "I'm still processing that. How do you feel, bro?" Jensen says bro with enough emphasis that makes me make my way to the water.
The rest of the panel is awkward. All questions were about Jared and I. Jensen's entire face is still unreadable that made me nervous. He has only been like this a few times before and it usually ends with him being pissed off.
When the panel is over Jensen walks up to me and takes my arm and pulls me out of the ballroom. Jared is following behind. Jensen takes us to a whole other part of the hotel. Before we know it we are in an empty room. Jensen lets go of my arm and spins around and rubs his face. Jared steps closer to me but I stop him. I don't know what my brother was thinking.
"You guys are sleeping together?" He exclaims making a face. "My little sister and best friend are having sex and a baby. How long has this been going on?"
Jared and I exchange looks. "November," I look back at Jensen who has risen is eyebrows higher than they normally go.
"Six months?!" He claims. "And you guys didn't tell me?! This hurts guys. What hurts more is I have to learn that you guys are having a baby. From a fan!"
Jensen rubs his face again. Jared pulls out his phone and looks at the both of us. "Uh, Cliff is looking for me. Wants me for mine and Misha's photo op."
"Go," Jensen and I say.
I sit on the ground and Jensen sits as well. "We aren't sure if I am pregnant or not. The tests are wonky. Kind of like Dee's were with the twins. And we meant to tell you but we got caught up in the fun of sneaking around." Jensen takes a deep breath and just stares at me. "I'm sorry Jay," I reach for his hand. "If it makes you happy or feel any better, no one else knew either."
"I can see it now," Jensen looks down at the ground and starts to pull at a piece of rug. "It was right in front of me the whole time but I was blind to it." He looks up at me. "So, will you be getting a blood test?"
I nod. "The only way to know for sure. And if I really am," I pat Jensen's hand. "You'll be a kick ass uncle."
"Damn right I will be."
By the end of the next week, Jared and I go public about our relationship and the news that by the new year the two of us will be introducing our first child into the world. A couple months later, Jared and I tie the knot in a very intimate ceremony that included just both our families and closest friends. Three days before Christmas, Jared and I welcome a little girl into the world. She is the most beautiful thing on the planet and watching my brother fall in love with her melts my heart.
By the time New Years Hit, Jared is home on break from filming. We rent out a small apartment on the outskirts of Austin. I had a few more weeks before I was cleared to go back. Jared leads me to our apartment balcony the view is absolutely breath taking. Even at night. Jared pulls me close to him and kisses me gently as fireworks were set off in the distance. "Happy New Years, Mrs. Padalecki."
#His Little Sister#SPN#spn fanfiction#spnfandom#spn final season#spnimagine#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural imagine#supernatural fic#supernatural family#fanfic#spnfanficfriday#Jared Padalecki#jared padalecki x reader#jared padalecki angst#jared padalecki fluff#jared padalecki smut#jared angst#jared smut#jared fluff#jared x reader#Jensen Ackles#Misha Collins#richard speight junior#rob benedict#alex calvert#danneel ackles
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