#fluff and crack

[chiqelatasblog]

When a Sorcerer Turns Into a Cat…

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Catsung art.

-> Another art for the last scene.

-> Lovely art by @inienil

Pairing : Shang Tsung x Reader

Tropes : Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Confessions, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Kind of Secret Identity?

Summary : When Shang Tsung crafted a potion for invisibility, he was unprepared for the peculiar result—he unexpectedly transformed into a cat. Struggling to navigate the world on four paws, he sought refuge, and that’s precisely when you entered the scene.

As the only person Shang Tsung trusted, he reached out to you, desperately in need of help. Oblivious to his true identity, you unwittingly revealed some truths about your feelings as you welcomed the unexpected guest into your home.

Author’s Note: I had so much fun when I was writing this. I always thought Shang Tsung behave like a sassy cat and seeing memes about it, this fic came to life. Hope you guys like it too, happy reading! .

.

.

He should never have made that potion.

About a day ago, he received the recipe for the invisibility potion from a small, dimly lit shop nestled in a mysterious corner of the city. The shop, selling peculiar items of unknown origin, offered him the recipe at an unbelievably low price, almost as if fate had handed him a golden ticket.

Despite a nagging suspicion that something wasn’t quite right, he was low on funds and had little else to trade Invisibility, a coveted skill he had long yearned to master, promised an escape from the ongoing misery of his life.

Eagerly, he returned to his humble trailer, carefully following the recipe’s instructions. The resulting potion, a dark purple concoction with a nauseating odor, made him gag even before it touched his lips. Disregarding the unpleasantness, he gulped it down in one go. Initially, only the repulsive taste assaulted his senses, but as seconds morphed into minutes, and his body stubbornly remained visible, frustration and realization set in – he had been duped.

Uttering a string of curses, he nervously set the bottle on the table, and then, suddenly, the world around him seemed to expand. No, he corrected himself; it was he who was shrinking. Panic seized him as his body crumbled at an alarming rate. Clothes, once fitting, now engulfed him like a collapsing tent. His limbs betrayed him, refusing to respond as he grappled with the unfolding chaos.

When he finally managed to disentangle himself from the heap of clothes, he was sent tumbling down the steps of his trailer, only to land unceremoniously in a puddle a short distance away.

Drenched from head to toe, he couldn’t hold back a frustrated ‘‘Fuck!’’ as he flung his wet hair away. However, amidst his exclamation, an unexpected sound reached his ears – a distinct ‘’Meow!’’

Shang Tsung’s world ground to a halt. ‘’Meow?’’ he echoed, utterly perplexed.

Gazing at his reflection in the puddle, he hoped desperately that it was all a dream. The creature staring back at him couldn’t be real. Two pairs of pointed ears, long black whiskers, a tiny triangular black nose, and again two large black eyes confronted him. He blinked, as if trying to verify his vision, and recoiled when his reflection blinked back in perfect synchronization.

The cat-like scream that followed, much higher-pitched than any human scream, nearly caused him to faint. He had transformed into a cat!

Fluffy paws had replaced his hands and feet, and whiskers, resembling delicate antennas, twitched involuntarily. The wet black fur failed to offer warmth, and a tail resembling a cleaning brush remained the only dry spot on his body.

Surveying his surroundings helplessly, Shang Tsung grappled with the overwhelming sensations. Colors, scents, and sounds bombarded his heightened senses. The moist and soft ground beneath his paws carried distinct smells – from the lush grass and flower pollen to the foul odor of nearby mice – making him nauseous and dizzy in this new feline reality.

He resolved to hide in his trailer until the effects of the potion had hopefully worn off. Perhaps time was the only remedy to this bizarre transformation.

With this decision, as he tried to maneuver his entirely alien limbs, he stumbled back into the puddle. Emitting a frustrated meow, he lifted his now even wetter body on trembling legs and took a determined step forward.

Coordinating his brain to move all four legs proved to be the most challenging task he had ever faced. Despite managing a few steps, it wasn’t long before he found himself face down on the ground. Climbing the stairs was out of the question when he could barely walk.

Yet, the thought of enduring the night defenseless in the open urged him to explore other options. Despite the presence of sharp claws at his disposal, he remained clueless about how to wield them effectively.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled ominously from the gathering dark clouds, intensifying his struggle. The loud noise sent shivers through his wet fur, and he fluffed up instinctively. What was he going to do now?

Abandoning the idea of entering his trailer due to his incapacitated state, and unable to climb the steps, he considered hiding beneath it. However, this provided little protection against larger predators.

As he weighed his limited options, another thunderclap sounded nearby, and rain approached faster than expected. Then, a solution flashed in his mind.

You.

In his present state of misery, pride might have prevented him from seeking you out, but the importance of trust is a precious rarity that outweighed his ego. The silver lining lay in the fact that, cloaked in this form, his identity would remain undetected by you.

He knew the way to your house by heart. If he could only manage to use his damn paws correctly, he estimated reaching your house in half an hour, perhaps even before the rain caught up with him.

With this determination, Shang wasted no time in taking action. His steps were still uneven and shaky, but time wasn’t a luxury he could afford to care about that.

The noise of the crowd from the market ahead throbbed in his ears, and an onslaught of diverse smells reached his nose, aggravating the nausea in his stomach. Being a cat was proving to be a challenging experience, perhaps explaining why they were often grumpy.

Navigating through the people, Shang tried his best not to entangle himself in anyone’s feet. However, his coordination mishaps led to a loss of balance, and a boy stepping on his tail resulted in a piercing yowl. Turning towards the offender, Shang unleashed a tirade of furious growls, attempting to express his outrage in the only way available.

‘’Are you blind, you damned brat! You almost trampled me!’’

Every word translated to meows, yet the intensity of his anger was universally understood. The woman, presumably the child’s mother, shielded her son from Shang and attempted to shoo him away with her hand, further bruising his wounded dignity.

Frustrated, Shang roared, ‘‘Who do you think you’re shooing, woman? Mother and son, I will kill you both and take your souls as a souvenir!’’—all conveyed in blood-curling meows.

Amidst the chaotic market, a male voice behind him suggested, ‘‘Ma’am, stand back; I think it has rabies.’’

Shang glared at the new person who had insulted him.

‘’Who do you think you’re calling rabid, you fucker—Oh, shit.’’

When he saw the bucket in the man’s hand that he was about to pour on him, he instantly put an end to his words-meows and hurried away from there as far as his legs would allow. He did not know how long he had been wandering around the market; the interior of the place he had always been wandering around had suddenly turned into a maze.

Everything was too loud, causing him to be constantly startled and feel the need to crawl into a corner with fear. The noise was overwhelming, and he had never felt so nervous; it was challenging not to be crushed underfoot when people, oblivious to his tiny presence, walked past him like giants. Additionally, the smells were more than mere scents—they were a symphony of overpowering fragrances that constantly distracted his attention.

After enduring a relentless pursuit by several dogs, their barks resonating through the narrow alleys, two people attempted to offer Shang affection. Amidst the chaos, he responded by scratching one person’s face, biting the other’s hand, and clumsily falling to the ground for the thirtieth time. Eventually, he managed to navigate the maze-like streets and arrive in front of your house.

Standing at the door of your one-story, quite small, stone house, he didn’t bother to stand up. Instead, he lay down on the ground for a prolonged moment.

Tired, hungry, and thirsty, he also felt the grime on his fur from the rain that continued to pour. It was already dark, and despite all his efforts, he hadn’t managed to escape the relentless downpour. While waiting in front of the door, drenched and shivering, he started screaming at the top of his lungs when he couldn’t hear a sound indicating that you were inside.

Just as people didn’t trust him easily, he himself never trusted others easily. In fact, he never trusted. You were the only one who had an exception in this matter. He had a bond with you that he didn’t share with anyone; it was so special and precious to him that Shang was afraid of doing something wrong and pushing you away.

You possessed a kind and empathetic nature, extending compassion even to someone like him who made money by deceiving people. This filled him with the need to protect, as well as a genuine concern for your selflessness.

While you were certainly not naive, your kind heart and tolerant attitude toward everyone could one day lead you to unexpected hurt. People often saw kindness as weakness, and Shang knew it well. Kindness was nothing more than a tool for many to gain the upper hand and exploit others.

Shang, despite his deceptive nature, taught you how to draw boundaries with small word games, preserving your gentle nature without resorting to brute force. Although he was aware that this approach contradicted his general nature, he found himself irresistibly drawn to you, seizing every opportunity to be near you.

He had no idea when he fell in love with you; perhaps it was the first time he saw you, or maybe it was when a few of the customers he tricked later came to kick his ass, and you helped him take care of his wounds after they hurt him badly. Or maybe it was that sexy look on your face when you didn’t refrain from answering back to him about something for the first time.

The options were endless, but one thing he knew was that he had never felt such intense attraction and closeness to anyone before. He was almost sure that you felt the same way, but he hesitated to take a step further, not wanting to risk this relationship he couldn’t name between you.

Finally, Shang stopped shouting when footsteps, making it clear that you had heard his screams, were heard from behind the door.

‘‘What’s going on?’’

When you opened the door and looked with curious eyes to see the source of the sound, Shang instantly tried to get your attention, mustering a heart-wrenching meow to pull at your heartstrings.

‘‘Oh, were you the cause of all this screaming?’’

By opening the door a little further, as if to show that there was no threat, you got down on your knees and stretched out your hand to him, inviting him closer.

“Hello, little one, come closer.’’

Shang came straight to you without a second thought, rubbing his head on your hands. He began to purr, a sound that seemed to emanate from the very core of his being. You put on a sweet smile at the sounds he made, Shang’s eyes closing with happiness as your gentle hands massaged behind his ears.

‘‘You poor thing, you’re soaked through.’’ After stroking his head a little more, you carefully grasped him on both sides with your hands. ‘’I’m going to hold you in my arms, please don’t attack me, okay?’’

Shang responded with louder purrs, trying to make himself appear as harmless and innocent as possible. You were the only person in this world he would not harm, a fact that could not change now or later. The warmth of your embrace provided solace to Shang, now a rain-soaked cat, as you lifted him into your arms. His damp fur clung to your clothes, but you didn’t seem to mind.

As you cradled him in your lap, Shang tried not to be too impressed by the softness of your breasts. But right now, even if he was a cat, he was a man, and being closer to the woman he loved than ever before might have affected him more than he thought.

‘‘That’s it, come here, my little friend. Let’s wash you first; you smell terrible. We’ll have dinner together later, what do you think? Is that okay?’’

While holding him with one hand and stroking him under the chin with the other hand, Shang’s eyes closed with happiness once again. He felt safe, comfortable, and peaceful. All that dizzying confusion of sounds, smells, and images had finally calmed down a little.

Your scent was playing a big role in him calming down. It was sweet, reminiscent of vanilla and a hint of lavender, a fragrance that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace.

When he caught your scent once more, just to be certain, his mouth watered. It was delicious, with an undercurrent of delightful notes—raisins and chocolate dough, the unmistakable aroma of his all-time favorite dessert: moon cakes, a treat you had lovingly prepared to smell just like this.

When his stomach rumbled loudly enough to embarrass him, you giggled.

“Oh my, I will put an end to your hunger at once, little one. Don’t worry; you’re in good hands.’’

When you arrived at the bathroom, after placing him in a basin and approaching to pour hot water on him, Shang’s whole body reflexively tensed up, and his coat puffed out.

If I get wet one more fucking time I-

‘‘I’ll keep this as quick as possible.’’ You said, in your usual kind voice, and put a little kiss on his head. The words that were waiting on the tip of Shang’s tongue to be said evaporated and disappeared into the air. Before he had a chance to shake off his astonishment, you began to wash his body with hot water.

Although he didn’t want to admit it, he liked the bath. The warm water cascading over him felt like a gentle rain, washing away the grime and tension from his fur. His body, stiff from the nightmare-filled moments he spent outside, had almost reached the consistency of falling asleep as it slowly relaxed between your fingers, which felt like magic.

‘‘Good boy, look how well behaved you are. You must be someone’s cat; you don’t look feral at all.’’ You said, mumbling to yourself. Your compliment had caused another unexpected reaction in Shang. While his heart began to beat faster than before, he had no doubt that his cheeks would have flushed noticeably if he had been human.

When you started delicately drying his body with a towel, Shang seized the opportunity to shake off the water, and in a playful display, a small scream escaped your lips as you attempted to shield yourself from the scattered water drops.

With your face and hair now adorned with droplets, Shang, taking full advantage of his feline guise, delicately licked the drops on your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, he reveled in this mischievous act.

Against his movement, you let out a giggle that made his heart jump. After drying his semi-damp body, you picked him up again and headed into the kitchen. Shang took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious smells wafting around, trying to ignore the rumbling of his stomach.

You had just made the moon cakes he had predicted, and with the smoke rising from them, it was obvious they had just come out of the stone oven. Shang couldn’t decide whether your lap or the buns lined up like treasure on the counter were more attractive.

‘‘Stop right here, and I’ll see what I can give you.’’

As you put him down and started preparing food by wandering around the kitchen, Shang looked at the counter with longing eyes. How he would have liked to jump in there and grab one of the cakes. Deciding to try his luck, he leaned his paws on the counter, attempting to keep his balance on both legs. Although he couldn’t see the counter, he could have reached out and grabbed one of the cakes with his paw. He just needed to reach a little more—

‘‘Oh, hold on there, you naughty kitty.’’

You grabbed him by the waist, pulled him away from the counter, and placed him on the table.

‘’There’s nothing there for you.”

“Don’t think so; you can’t protect those buns from me.”

Interpreting his mewing as a sign of hunger, you once again stroked the top of his head with understanding eyes.

“Here you go buddy, enjoy your meal.”

Leaving the food you had prepared for him in front of him, you sat down with your own dinner. Shang inspected the food, smelling the bowl. When he caught a whiff of chicken broth and stale bread crumbs, he looked up, giving you side eyes.

He couldn’t believe you were offering him stale bread.

“What?” As you carefully chewed a morsel, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Are you giving me the side eye?”

Shang pushed the food with one paw, turning his head to the side.

“What’s with that attitude?” you said with a laugh. “Aren’t you hungry? You should be able to smell the chicken inside.”

“And the stale bread you put in,” Shang hissed. Approaching you confidently, he eyed the food on your plate. With beautifully baked chicken pieces, sautéed vegetables, and rice, your plate looked quite delicious. Shang swallowed, feeling his mouth water. You didn’t stop him when he buried his head in your plate, about to devour one of the chickens.

“Alright, eat up. It’s obvious you need it more than me.”

As you gently stroked his head, Shang couldn’t determine if he was truly starving, attributing the chicken’s apparent deliciousness to his intense hunger. With purrs that exceeded his small body, he devoured the meal, finding it to be the most delicious chicken he had ever eaten.

When you prepared a new plate for yourself and sat down, a peaceful silence descended between the two of you. After a while, while taking a small sip from your wine glass, you continued to gently stroke the top of Shang’s head with one hand.

This, he thought to himself, must be heaven.

‘’You’re tame enough to make me think you’re somebody’s pet. If you haven’t run away from home and you’ve been dumped, I have two words to say to that person.’’ You said in a harsh voice.

As Shang licked the leftover pieces of chicken smeared on the side of his mouth, he started purring louder when he heard the protective timbre in your voice. Giggling at his reaction, you stroked his cheek with your dainty fingers.

‘’We need to give you a name, hmm.’’ After taking another sip of your wine, you patted your chin with one hand and looked at him with thoughtful eyes. Shang thought about how breathtaking you looked at that moment.

Most of the lights in your house were turned off, it was dim except for a few candles that you placed around and the heat and light emitted by a small fireplace burning a little further away.

The places where the soft yellow light touched your skin painted you a sweet golden color, while your cheeks were slightly pinkened because of the wine you were drinking, and your lips were tinged with a dark color of red. As the thin tufts of hair that had escaped from the bun that you had scattered from the top covered your face, he felt an intense desire to kiss you at that moment, it suddenly became even more important for him than breathing.

You looked so sweet, vulnerable, and beautiful that he cursed himself once again for turning into a cat. But on the other hand, if he hadn’t turned, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to see you like this.

“Actually, I know someone who loves cats, I have no doubt that he will adore you.” You said and put another smile on your face from behind the glass touched your lips. His heart warmed at the sight of you. “He tries not to show it, but I know how much he loves animals. It’s easier for him to make friends compared to people; I can’t blame him for thinking like that. Everyone has their reasons.’’

When your fingers moved again to stroke the soft fur, Shang brought his head closer to you. Meanwhile, he couldn’t help wondering, were you talking about him?

‘‘I can tell that his hair is the same color as your coat, and even your eyes are exactly the same color. Should I also call you Shang? Or Shang the Junior?‘’ You continued laughing at your own words, while Shang responded by looking at you with side eyes. His gaze must be amusing to you, making you burst into a louder laugh.

‘‘I’ve no doubt he’ll look just as sassy as you are looking at me right now! By the elder gods, that was good. But I think it would be more appropriate if I thought of another name… how about Night? It’s a name that suits you quite well.’’

After stroking his head for the last time, you collected the plates on the table in one hand and stood up with the wine glass you were about to finish. You put the plates in the tap, cut one of the moon cakes left on the counter across from you in half, and put it in your mouth.

“Better than I thought, Shang will love these.” You said it in a hushed voice, difficult to be heard. The expression on your face was much more peaceful and gentle now. Knowing that he was the reason behind it, filled Shang with pride. When he tried to attract attention to himself by meowing across the table, you approached him with half a moon cake.

“I know it’s usually harmful for you to eat this, but I guess a little bite once is fine, right? Here you go.” When you divided the one in your hand once more, reduced it even more, and handed it to him, Shang happily bit the piece you handed him into his mouth. The taste was absolutely exquisite—a feast of flavors that melted in his mouth before he even chewed.

‘‘You seem to like it too.’’

‘‘I love it!’’ Shang said, meowing loudly. When he held on to your arm with his front paws to ask for more, you had no choice but to give him the other piece as well. After Shang filled the last place left in his small stomach with cake, you took him on your lap and went into the living room.

You lay down on the peltries and furs that were laid out a little distance from the fireplace and pulled one of the cushions on the floor to have a pillow under your head. Shang instantly took advantage of the opportunity, curled up on your arm and rested his head on your neck.

The smell of you, the heat from the fireplace, and the crackling rising from the burning wood… all filled him with peace, as well as his relaxing body literally turned to jelly.

As the rain outside continued its symphony, Shang, now affectionately named Night, nestled comfortably in your gentle embrace. The soft illumination of candles played with the shadows, creating a tranquil ambiance that matched the warmth spreading within him.

Your musings about other potential names—Whiskers or Shadow—accompanied by the calming melody of the rain, painted an intimate scene. The soothing patter of raindrops on the window seemed to harmonize with the contented purrs emanating from Shang, reinforcing the newfound sense of belonging.

‘‘It’s a very different feeling to want to see someone all the time, not to want to leave their side,’’ You said some time later. Your tone was quiet and somehow fragile. While one hand stroked the soft, black fur, Shang stubbornly tried to resist sleeping, despite his tired body. He wanted to hear the words that would come out of your mouth.

‘‘I feel that I really know him, I accepted him into my heart a long time ago with all his wrongs and truths.’’

Even though there was technically no one else in the house but you, your voice was getting quiet, as if you were afraid someone would hear it. When the other hand covered your eyes, the smile that left your lips this time had nothing to do with the previous ones. It was bitter and insecure.

‘’I like him. Oh gods, I like him more than I thought.’’

A tear trickled down your cheek from the eyes you had hidden from him. Shang instantly rose up and licked the tear that was trickling down your cheek, as if to calm you down. How he would like to be a human being right now and reciprocate you. While his heart was pounding with happiness and excitement because of your confession, at the same time, your lack of self-confidence and the anxiety that you were feeding from the inside made him feel bad.

You finally kissed the top of his head, rewarding him for trying to comfort you as much as he could with a little chuckle.

‘’Thank you, Night. Your presence was unexpected, but thank you for choosing my door.’’ You said, in a voice as soft and sincere as honey. ‘‘I wish there was some way I could know what was going through Shang’s mind; it would be nice to know if he feels the same way towards me, wouldn’t it?’’

Shang just rubbed his head against yours, trying to give you a positive answer. He wanted this damn situation to end as soon as possible; he was about to go insane.

After a while, you declared, ‘’It’s been a long day,’ concluding the topic. The flickering flames in the fireplace cast a warm glow, highlighting the subtle lines of exhaustion on your face. Shifting towards the fireplace, you enveloped him in your arms, pulling Shang close as if he was a cherished plush toy. Shang nestled into the warmth, leaning against you with no space between.

He seemed content in this embrace, willing to endure it a while longer.

BONUS:

As birds chirped outside and sunlight gradually invaded the room, you slowly awoke. The wooden floor beneath you creaked as you shifted, a small moan escaping your lips along with the lingering ache in your hips.

Every inch of you seemed to protest the unconventional night’s rest. Yet, when a hand, still warm from sleep, squeezed your waist, all discomfort faded. Turning, a gasp caught in your throat.

There lay Shang Tsung, peacefully asleep, a sight you hadn’t anticipated. Surprised, you didn’t scream, perhaps even forgetting to breathe. Studying his features, you reached out, brushing your fingers through his tousled black hair. The once-cynical expression softened in slumber, and his pale pink lips were slightly parted, giving him a tranquil and almost boyish appearance, adorned with freckles on cheeks and nose.

Time seemed to halt, your heart reacting as it always did in his presence. To affirm it wasn’t a dream, your fingers grazed the soft strands of his hair, gently pulling them away from his face.

“This is real,” you uttered in a single breath. When Shang heard your voice, he parted his long, black eyelashes. His sleepy gaze found you directly, and a small smile settled on his face, leaving your heart in disarray.

“Of course, it’s real,” said Shang, his voice thicker than usual due to sleep. “It’s too early to wake up yet, so close your eyes. Let’s get some more sleep.”

Your brain was preoccupied with grasping the truth of how he got into your house and why he was sprawled over you with his arms wrapped around you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked with surprise.

“You let me in,” he replied simply.

“Me?” As you tried to figure out how, your eyebrows furrowed. The pieces snapped together in your mind as if lightning had flashed inside your head. “Was it you last night?!” you exclaimed, the half-scream in your voice. Shang’s eyes had already closed, but the wicked smile that revealed he hadn’t fallen asleep yet lingered on his face.

“How did you manage to turn into a cat?”

“Dear, it’s a pretty long story. Let me get some sleep first.”

As Shang snuggled closer, placing his chin on the top of your head, your eyes trailed down to his bare, muscular chest, and a shrill scream escaped your lips.

“You’re naked!”

“I guess so, I was a cat.”

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping next to me like this and still doing it,” you stammered, your face almost on fire.

“Well, I am quite comfortable,” Shang quipped without opening his eyes. He groped and took one of the pelts behind him, using it to cover himself.

“There, is that all right now?’’ A mischievous glint appeared in Shang’s eyes as he teased, “Well, if you’re done interrogating me, maybe I can finally enjoy some beauty sleep.”

You were so confused that you couldn’t answer him. Your poor brain, still struggling to comprehend what had just happened, was about to reach its breaking point. When you remembered the conversation you had with yourself last night, your face got so hot that you thought you were going to pass out and faint on the spot.

‘’When you were a cat… Do you remember what I said?”

Shang realized what you were talking about and chuckled in a deep voice.

“Everything.”

“Everything?” you said, squealing. Attempting to wriggle free from his grasp, you tried to hide from him, but Shang’s strong hands didn’t release their grip on your waist for a moment. On the contrary, a shaky breath escaped you when he pulled you closer, his hand gently stroking your hair.

“I like you too, (y/n),” Shang said, then kissed your forehead as if sealing his words. “I’ve been waiting for this moment so long,” he took a deep breath, burying his face into your hair. “While I’m holding you in my arms like this now, I don’t want to let go. Let’s stay like this a little longer.”

Since you couldn’t trust your voice, you contented yourself with nodding in approval. Although you couldn’t see Shang’s expression, there was no doubt he wasn’t smiling.

Your heart filled with warmth and happiness, sensations you’d never experienced before. You had a premonition that Shang had feelings for you, but you chose silence, fearing your confession might affect the bond between you.

This mutual confession made you feel light as a bird, filling you with pure happiness that made you wiggle like a little girl.

Before you could help yourself, now allowed to do something you’d wanted for a very long time, you straightened up on your elbows and planted a little kiss on one of Shang’s round cheeks.

Shang slightly opened his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth. Then, as his hand found its place in the back of your neck, guiding you closer, you willingly followed. When your lips met, it was like two magnets drawn together, stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs

Shang’s kiss was as soft as the morning itself, an impetuosity showing that all the time belonged to them. While responding to his kiss, a detail caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Shang… You’re purring.”

Shang’s closed eyes widened.

“Fuck. There must be some side effects left from the damn potion.”

“I’ve always wanted to have a big cat,” you teased. Shang’s eyes narrowed playfully.

“I’m not like the cats you know, sweetie,” he said, brushing your hair with the back of his hand. Another smile left your lips, and you reached out to kiss him again.

“I have no doubt of it. Just don’t scratch the furniture, okay?”

Shang mockingly gasped, placing a hand over his chest.

“I’m offended. My claws are reserved for far more exciting endeavors, darling.”

#shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung x you #shang tsung x y/n #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 shang tsung #mortal kombat 1 #mk x reader #mk1 #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3feed #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3fic #ao3 author #fluff #fluff and humor #fluff and romance #fluff and feels #fluff and crack #fluff and fun #humor #confession #love confessions #reader insert #reader interactive #reader input

[steddieunderdogfics]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52815520

‘what’s that sound? (there’s a funny man at my door)’ by jewishrat420 - I don’t usually read text fics, but this one had me laughing hysterically from start to finish, it’s so funny

what's that sound? (there's a funny man at my door) by jewishrat420

@jewishrat420

Rating: Mature

4,854 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Texting, text fic, chat fic, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Roommates, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Jewish Eddie Munson, Autistic Eddie Munson, Jewish Jonathan Byers, jewish argyle, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Awkward Eddie Munson, Lesbian Nancy Wheeler, genderfluid jonathan byers, they/he argyle, References to Sex, background ronance, background jargyle, Coming Out

Summary:

steve: You sure they didn’t forget to diagnose you with anything? eddie: god ur a bitch i wanna fuck u so bad steve: What. nancy: What. robin: What. jonathan: What. argyle: nice

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #modern au #roommates #fluff and crack #rated m #chat fic

[exhaustedcatte]

Are we doing this here? (yes)

Remus ran his sweaty palms over his suit, which did nothing to dry them off given that the material was very silky.

“My god, Lily, you should’ve asked someone else to sub in,” Remus muttered balefully.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, accent thick – it only ever came out when she was nervous. “You made bigger numbers than Susan when you filled in for her last time.”

“I wish I was knee deep in editing instead,” he said, just to keep the banter going.

Remus wasn’t mad about Lily asking him to fill in for her co-worker, mainly because the carpet they were on was for a Period Era film whose book had him crying for days. No, he was just very out of depth being in front of a camera and not a screen. Besides, this must be what people call Nepotism. Remus was simply an editor, who cuts clips out and makes a nice video out of it. Lily, who’d pulled strings to get Snarky little Remus Lupin out here, did so with the intention of getting him to do some networking.

“No, you don’t, not when Black will be here,” she replied knowingly.

She knew too much, honestly. Lily simply barked a laugh when he told her that.

He tried to settle his nerves by doing a headcount of the reporters on the carpet. He thought he might reach Nirvana once he’d counted upto the 90 mark, but his cameraman starts clicking the little button with such force, Remus is startled out of the ‘counting sheep to sleep’ method he was using.

“Oh my god,” Lily applied her lipstick hastily. “Remus! Remus that’s Dame Minerva McGonagall.”

He bit his lip, trying to contain his own excitement. “Who gets her?”

They were both under the same network, it would make no sense for both of them to interview her with similar questions.

“Do you… do you want it?” Lily asked.

Remus saw the generosity in her offering her role model to him. “Of course not, Lils. I was only pulling your leg.”

She punched his arm. “I was about to replace you with Frank.”

Remus’ cameraman, Frank Longbottom, popped his head from behind the huge camera, “Oh, piss off.”

Minerva strode into their section after getting her photographs taken. Remus stepped away in awe. He’d never been so close to anyone famous, well excluding his one boyfriend – who wrote three love songs about him and then dumped him after the songs blew up. They’d been together at the cusp of his fame. Remus squashed the thought of Caradoc Dearborn, the nation’s favourite Pop Artist, according to Daily Prophet.

“Miss Minerva,” Lily smiled brightly, “you look lovely. Might I know who you’re wearing?”

“Why, you look beautiful yourself,” the woman smiled. “This was a work of Pandora Lovegood.”

“It looks stunning,” Lily reiterated sincerely. She segued into her question smoothly with, “The pantsuit must’ve been easier to wear than traditional Victorian outfits, right?”

“Oh yes,” she nodded. “Many, many layers.”

“This film is also your comeback after two years, how does it feel?”

They’re lucky they secured the entry spot on the carpet, because the other interviewers are likely to ask the same questions as these actors progress down the line.

“It’s very special. I’ve known the director, James Potter, for a few years now and working with him has been lovely because he really eased me into it,” Minerva spoke fondly of James Potter and it was all but a miracle that Lily’s knees didn’t give out judging by the dizzy expression that overtook her smile when her celebrity crush was name dropped. (Remus knew Lily as well as she knew him, so it was never a disadvantage really.)

“The trailer also broke records, have you got any anecdotes to spare about scenes that have been revealed?”

Minerva pondered for a few. “I found it very difficult to chase Sirius around set when he thought dropping seeds on my hat was a good idea. I almost had a pigeon infestation on me.”

“Did you have to run in the gown?” Lily laughed good-naturedly.

Remus also had to hold back a snort at the vivid image of the Dame running behind Sirius Black and a flock of pigeons trailing her.

“Running after him was a personal choice, it wasn’t a shot for the movie,” the actress said primly, making everyone laugh again.

“I wish the movie great success, it was lovely meeting you,” Lily bade her goodbye.

Minerva smiled once again before heading over to the next reporter.

“How was I?” Lily asked.

“Good, but a touch too nervous maybe,” Remus offered honestly.

“Okay.” She spotted Slughorn making his way over to them and straightened, “It’s go time.”

The old veteran was suited up in boring grey slacks and a grey suit jacket with a plain white shirt under. Remus wished there were less boring men’s outfits on the carpet, at least then it’d make it interesting for him to edit these things, it would provide great gossip material.

Lily breezed through the next couple interviews, trying to shuffle her questions between them to make it less monotonous for both parties.

When Narcissa Malfoy finally sashayed away, Lily slugged half of Remus’ ginger lemon tea. “This thermos is god sent, the tea is so warm.”

“I know. It was Caradoc’s last christmas present. But it’s so good, I couldn’t justify throwing away just because he was a shit ex.”

“His money anyway,” Lily winked. Her voice sounded too hoarse.

“Want me to go?” Remus asked.

Her shoulders slumped, a bit relieved. “I would appreciate that.”

Remus steadied his mind, just a few questions and that’s all there was. You can do this, you got this, it’s just a few minutes and – Holy fucking god.

Marlene McKinnon stepped out of her car in a sequinned dress, thigh high slit and tall pumps.

Remus managed to snag her first out of the sea of interviewers.

“Good evening,” he smiled. “You look gorgeous, very old Hollywood.”

Her blonde hair was pinned up, lips painted blood red, mole under her eye, black sequinned dress glimmering in the flashes of the cameras.

“Thank you so much, but I have to thank Fortescue for this.”

Her ability to understand cues was very well appreciated by Remus.

“I must say, your role in the movie seems to be rather demanding psychologically,” Remus started off strong, “judging by the book and the trailer, of course.”

Marlene blinked away her surprise fast. Women were usually not asked about their character’s personalities very often.

“Harriet is a bit of a character,” she said eagerly. “She’s too strict on herself and clearly a bit emotionally constipated,” Marlene laughed.

“Was it difficult to recover from that kind of a role?”

“It was,” Marlene’s surprise bled into her voice. “Harriet’s strictness with herself often translated into her constantly picking herself apart so my confidence did see it’s ups and downs.”

“And she’s also Irish!“ Remus redirected towards something lighthearted. “How was working the accent for you?”

“I’m so used to London, it took a lot of work to get my pronunciation as close to a native as I could,” she admitted sheepishly.

Remus grinned, watch pulsating silently on his wrist. “Well, Harriet, I wont keep you long, for your duties call you elsewhere.”

“Wow,” Marlene laughed, “you’re better than Sirius, man!”

“I wouldn’t make it past auditions, Marlene,” he deadpanned.

She giggled. “Give yourself some credit. Sirius only remembered his dialogues when he had to whinge about me.”

Remus shifted back, on his hip, “Harriet, dear, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Marlene guffawed, “Oh, you’re good.” She waved as she was led away.

Remus didn’t get a refractory period when the next actor swarmed in.

After six successful interviews Remus started to loosen up. He managed to land a few jokes based on the knowledge of the actors and their characters.

“Are you the interviewer that Marls said I had to meet?”

Remus turned around.

Sirius Orion Black.

He was wearing proper Victorian attire. A ruffled white blouse, a midnight blue paisley vest with gold embroidery, charcoal slacks and tailcoat. His hair was tied back with a gold ribbon. God. He looked delectable.

Remus’ brain sent pure dumb into his head and he fish-mouthed. “You cut quite a figure in that suit.”

“It’s an Ollivander custom,” Sirius grinned, eyes shining. Oh, his smile. “I see you’re dressed to star alongside me too!”

Remus cracked a smile. No one had commented on his commitment to the part yet. He was also similarly in Victorian garbs, but he decided to take a simpler route by thrifting and sewing them himself.

“It’s a Remus Lupin special,” he said. After a pause, he motioned to himself, and added, “I’m Remus Lupin.”

“You’ve got quite the talent in suit making, Lupin. Want to make one for me next time?” Sirius leaned in close. Remus could smell the decadent notes of vanilla and coffee in his perfume.

“I’m not all that talented,” Remus said modestly. “I might be better at taking a suit off than putting it on you.”

What the hell am I doing? On Broadcast! Oh, he’s so fired. Lily pinched his arm from behind.

But Sirius Black grinned widely, very obviously looking him up and down, “You certainly have the permission.”

Remus smirked. “Alright now, let’s keep it media-friendly. Tell us, Sirius, you’ve taken on the role of Sir Fitzwilliam Grey, who is notoriously difficult. What was being such a frustrating man like?”

“Frustrating,” Sirius laughed. “He definitely was written well, but boy, he got on my nerves a bit.”

Remus also smiled, agreeing, “It’s true, the book almost made me pull my hair out.”

“You can pull my hair instead,” Sirius winked.

Remus swallowed, before smiling brightly. “Ah, but I don’t put out until the fourth date at least.”

Sirius snorted, “I was talking about braiding my hair.”

“Mm, either ways, I am good with my hands.”

Sirius hid his face in his palms, shoulders shaking with laughter. Remus felt proud of himself for making this man laugh. God, he looked really beautiful.

“So,” he cleared his throat at Frank’s pointed gaze. “James Potter is your best friend and this isn’t your first production together. But you mentioned this project was very close to you, why so?”

“I grew up in a family like Grey’s, so I could understand why he behaved the way he did – I was much like him until I met James. So now I’m not welcome home anymore,” Sirius snickered lightly. This news was known to the public for a while, but it was still a sore subject.

“You’re welcome to my home anytime,” Remus winked, trying to make it lighter on the viewers.

This time, Sirius actually blushed. “I’ll make a note of that.”

“Your first film was also a period era movie, was it nostalgic going back to your roots, in a sense?”

“A little. I was too nervous to experience everything the first time, so this felt like redemption,” Sirius said. Then he broke into a jive, “Redemption is leaving the man you dreamed of~”

Jesus. Caradoc Dearborn through the mouth of Sirius. But Sirius had a really nice voice, rich and robust.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I keep singing that song, must be because I’ve been hearing it a lot on the radio.”

“Yeah, me too,” Remus said stiffly. Lily snorted into her palm.

“Oh?”

“Er, my ex… he was a huge fan of, um, Caradoc Dearborn,” Remus felt his eye twitch.

“Oh.”

“He’s my ex,” Remus shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. If he left you, then he was probably a right Fitzwilliam Grey, eh,” Sirius giggled. “Or like, Earl Grey. A bit basic.”

“You’re right.” He leaned in a bit, heart jumping when Sirius mirrored his action. “I much prefer it Black.”

Sirius’ ears were slowly getting red, probably like his own. “Everyone likes black tea, Remus.”

“We all have good taste,” Remus nodded importantly, willing himself to stand his ground.

His watch beeped, breaking the moment. “Oh, we’ve run out of time. Have you got any last remarks?”

“I hope you watch the movie,” he said to the camera. “And let me know how it is,” he turned to Remus.

“Well, it has been a pleasure to talk to you Mr Black,” Remus smiled his professional smile.

“You too, Remus,” Sirius said softly. “I will see you sometime.”

That sounded like a promise if he’d ever heard one.

Sirius strode away, but Remus noticed him peeking back at where he was stood.

“What on Earth was that Remus?” Lily squealed. “How can we possibly use this footage?!”

“We can, I think. It’s guaranteed views, Lils,” Frank interjected.

Remus blushed. “Sorry, I don’t know what got over me.”

“Thinking with the wrong organ, most likely,” Lily muttered, but she sounded too fond and too impressed to be mad.

“Most likely,” Remus echoed, once again on the receiving end of The Sirius Black smile.

His phone rang six times before he even considered picking it up.

“Hey,” he croaked. “I met the deadlines and uploaded it yesterday evening.”

Lily, who had been pestering him to get the interview out before the movie’s first day, didn’t utter a word.

“Lils?”

“Have you seen the comments?”

Oh, god.

Remus sat up in his bed, blankets falling in a pool around his naked torso. “Should I?”

“Yes.”

He pulled up the video, and immediately was stunned by the 2.3 million views on it. “Holy shit?”

“Read the comments, lad.”

laralare: um id tap his ass too sirius, get in line

beyzoz: not in front of my saladfsusjro?!

flour: am i jealous of sirius or remus lupin?

patricknorth: 6.57 im gay now

gillian: look at the eYES sirius makes when remus mentions his ex!!

hollyhollyday: the blatant flirting?! jail. my single ass is sobbing at 2am

freyja: i like lupin. we need him on more carpets.

doorathea: sirius looks so hot, id hit too. so yeah, remus was just being gay, not unprofessional.

Remus laughed incredulously at the number of comments in support of this tomfoolery.

“Now, Remus, I want you to breathe and go on Twitter.”

“Lily!”

Twitter was flooded with trends. About Him. And Sirius. Together.

#remusirius

#sirius black flirting

#remus lupin

Remus found many tweets – mostly laughing at the pair and dissecting the interaction. But it had felt so natural even to Remus so he had left it in, thinking it was amusing. Clearly everyone agreed.

The topmost tweet however.

SiriusBlack:

Last night was one of my favourite nights ever. I hope tonight you all can enjoy the movie too. Dress victorian, thrift and sew your outfits, have some fun!(a borrowed idea) when in rome, do as the romans do, (or is when in remus more apt? lol) enjoy!!

Remus screamed into his phone, blushing at the innuendo.

“His publicist loves you or hates you.”

“Let’s hope she’s obsessed with me, because.”

“Uh oh, Remus. Remus, what are you doing?”

“Nothing!”

RJLupin: im going to the movie w my best friend this weekend.

SiriusBlack: oh he’s in my dms now

RJLupin: too presumptuous?

SiriusBlack: the right amount i think.

text me here– xxx

“Remus…?”

“Might’ve scored a date with Fitzwilliam.”

“Remus! Caradoc could never!”

Remus laughed.

(a/n: based on a prompt i saw on pinterest lol. can you tell i can’t flirt for my life. or that i have no idea how red carpets work? i wrote this at arse o’ clock, so please excuse the lack of research and feasible scenarios that went into this. i hope it put a smile on your face at least.)

#marauders #wolfstar oneshot #modern wolfstar au #wolfstar fanfic #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #siriusxremus #wolfstar #lily evans #james potter #minerva mcgonagall #fluff and crack #wolfstar au #remus being remus #sirius being sirius #sirius orion black #remus john lupin #flirting #pre wolfstar relationship #wolfstar fluff #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #actorxinterviewer au #james & peter & remus & sirius #moony #marauders au

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Sam Wilson and the Olympians

Hey! This fic is for @sambuckylibrary’s SamBucky Valentine’s Bingo 2024 for the prompt on Creator Card #2 - “Second Chances”. It starts with SamRiley but you'll see how the prompt plays a role in the fic once you read it. Enjoy! 🥰

Sam Wilson and the Olympians

| Pairings: SamBucky and SamRiley | Rated: T | WC: 18K |

Summary: Sam Wilson didn't know that he was a demigod. But now, with a group of new friends, he must find his way to Camp Half-Blood.

Excerpt:

“We, uh,” said Paul as he cleared his throat, “We met this… guy.” Sam blinked. “This guy?” asked Sam, confused. “He was – oh wow. He. We got along really well,” said Paul, a twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at Darlene – and. This felt a little too intimate for Sam to be hearing about his own parents. “We sort of got a long after that for, I don’t know, about a year,” said Darlene, tucking one of her twists behind her ear as she decidedly didn’t look Sam in the eyes, “And – it’s going to sound fantastical but you, um – ” “You’re still our son. Biological son, you’re our – we’re both still your – I’m not really sure how it worked, but – ” Paul continued, trying to find the words to tell Sam whatever went on. “You sort of. Just,” said Darlene, mimicking what happened with her hands, “Appeared. From his. Forehead?” Joaquín choked on his Arnold Palmer. Riley’s eyes widened, not expecting that. Sam. Sam needed a minute. “I was… a forehead baby?” asked Sam, supremely confused.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

#sbvday2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #samriley #sambucky fic #samriley fic #riley #percy jackson and the olympians au #love at first sight #second chances #fluff and crack #angst with a happy ending #demigod sam wilson #demigod bucky barnes #my fic #Sam Wilson and the Olympians

[mearchy]

For like a year I’ve been occasionally fucking around in this Google doc with a bunch of little writing snippets based on the premise “what if there were just normal dogs in Star Wars and one of them got passed around and summarily adopted by all the different clone battalions.” And in my near-manic writing state lately I decided to actually do something with those. Behold.

Fandom: Star Wars the Clone Wars (2008)

Works in Series: 3

Total Words: 5,950

Rated G through T

Summary: The 501st Legion gets a dog. And then, because the 501st can’t keep their problems to themselves, the entire GAR gets a dog.

Most Relevant Tags: Fluff and Crack, Implied CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-1010 | Fox/Happiness (implied future relationship), Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, 212th Attack Battalion, 501st Legion, Coruscant Guard, Fluff and Angst, Swearing

Note: Check warnings for the one fic rated T, which has vague discussion of drug abuse and is also generally an Angst/Fluff combo.

More will likely continue to be added, there were seven different premises in the doc and I already have another queued up in Ao3 drafts.

#tcw #the clone wars #fox #fanfic #commander cody #commander fox #cc 2224 #cc 1010 #212th attack battalion #coruscant guard #hurt/comfort #fluff #crack #fluff and crack #star wars #star wars the clone wars #clones #shenanigans #anakin skywalker #clone/clone #<not actually in any of these but i always put that tag there because otherwise people get upset #when they go to look at my other work and discover i have written clone/clone #mine #my writing

[supergeek21]

69th GTA Fic! (Nice)

Posted the is over the weekend and sharing now. This round’s prompt was book (which I picked just to write this story lol!).

Crowley is a fan of romance novels and gets a surprise after the non-apocalypse.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #crowley #aziraphale #fanfiction #ineffable husbands #writers on tumblr #archive of our own #crowley x aziraphale #fluff and crack

[gerec]

i’ve had a shitty week so i was just wondering if you could recommend your favorite fluffy cherik fics 😭 i don’t care what they’re about i just need fluff

I'm sorry you've had a rough week Anon and I'm happy to help. I don't really read straight fluff but these are my favorite Cherik fics to read when I want a pick me up and I hope you like them!

One Hundred One Night Stands. by Sophia_Bee

Charles has a rule. Never fuck the same guy twice. When he refuses to see Erik again after a one night stand, Erik goes about trying to get Charles to violate that rule using accents and disguises.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Parenting by keire_ke

Alex disapproves of school car washes, despite the abundance of wet bikinis on pretty girls. Erik doesn’t approve of his son shirking money-making duties.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he's Charles' cat and not his boyfriend.

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik's fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Not So Much the Teacup by thehoyden

“Charles is basically the bride whisperer. It’s like he can read their minds.” (wedding planner AU)

645 Riverside Drive by smilebackwards

Azazel clearly has yet to understand the shattering power of Charles' disappointment, so Erik takes one for the team, grabbing the cup and downing the remnants of the cappuccino like a shot while Azazel watches with morbid fascination.

Good manners (will get you far) by ximeria

Charles had been looking forward to the performance at the Met for ages. Little did he know, things would not go according to plan.

Oysters and Champagne by listerinezero

Erik is the extremely talented, extremely scary chef at one of the top restaurants in New York, and Charles, the head waiter, is the only person with the balls to stand up to him. Their fights are the stuff of legend, and their argument over the Valentine's Day menu turns into one for the history books.

'tis a far far better thing doing stuff for other people by whichisgolden

The X-Men: First Class Clueless AU that you didn't know you always wanted. Charles is a spoiled Beverly Hills telepath, Erik is his pretentious ex-step-brother, Emma is his best friend because they both know what it feels like for people to be jealous of them, etc.

Other Life Challenges by professor

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Making perfect by aesc 

As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.

love like toy trucks crashing by midrashic

Charles Xavier may be young, but he knows what it means to love.

soul of my soul by ikeracity

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

#gerec rambles #cherik #fic rec #gerec's fic rec #fluff and crack

[bleedingoptimism]

“No, Steve is not gay” Nancy blurts and gasps covering her mouth with her hands. “Why not?” Argyle asks her but her face is gone completely red and she shakes her head, “Nevermind.” Robin gasps and smiles wickedly, “Nance… were you just going to say he can’t be gay because he’s too good in bed?” “No!” Nancy shierks, which means yes and Jon says, “You gotta be kidding me.” but his tone is light, like he’s mostly joking. Mostly.

or

The spicy six go camping. Steve accidentally comes out and Eddie realizes something.

read it on ao3

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #i wrote something #fluff and crack

[miraculousfanworks]

Fanfiction Prompt

Adrien has noticed that Marinette’s sleep schedule is, how should I put this? Trash, literal trash, so Cat Noir decides to drop in each night with a bag of miscellaneous bed time assistance, nightlights, scented candles, heated blankets, bathroom essentials, two handmade plushes (one Cat Noir and one Multimouse), and so on. Basically a Rocky Balboa-esque training sequence of Cat Noir improving Marinette’s sleep schedule. Because that’s what you do for your “just a friend”

Prompt by NPC_Ethan

#miraculous fanworks #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #miraculous #writing prompt #prompt #miraculous prompt #ml prompt #lovesquare #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #marichat #maricat #chat noir #cat noir #fluff #fluff and crack #crack

[chirp-a-chirp]

Court of Darkness: The Battle of Facial Hair*

*I wrote this story while hopped up on cold meds. So take this crack-fic with a grain of salt. Enjoy the horribly edited photo.

Description: A rumor spreads (from Vane knows where) throughout Saligia that a royal’s future prospects and strength can be determined by the amount of facial hair he possesses. How does this impact the princes?

Tags: Humor; crack; fluff; (brief mc mention using they/them pronouns)

Word Count: ~1250

…

GUY and TOA

Jasper receives a letter from the Avari royal court. He reads the contents to Guy.

Jasper: King Roc has grown a magnificent beard since you last saw him. The ladies of the court find his Majesty even more attractive than usual.

Guy: …

Guy: He has never lacked for female company.

Jasper: His Highness suggests you grow a beard as a sign of Avari strength.

Guy: *Scoffs* Suggests?

Jasper: Perhaps suggests is an inaccurate word. Here is the royal decree—you will begin growing your beard now.

Guy: Bah.

Jasper: Please tell me how a beard feels. I might endeavor to use one on my upcoming missions.

Guy: You’re enjoying my misery far too much.

Jasper: Impossible sir. *Smirks*

Two weeks later, Guy sports a very thick, luxurious black beard. It is neatly trimmed, complete with sideburns and mustache. As Avari fangirls oooh and aaaah over Guy’s facial locks in a hallway, Toa walks by.

Toa: How like Avari to be swept up by a rumor. Qelsum would never succumb to such a pathetic attempt at a power display.

Knight: Toa! Toa! An express letter has come from Qelsum!

Toa: *Reads letter, eyes widening ever so slightly. His eyes flicker to Guy and then back at the letter*

Toa: …the royal court cannot be serious.

Guy: What was that about pathetic power displays mongrel? Heh Heh Heh. *Walks away*

Within the next few weeks, Toa has a long, thin, deep blue goatee. The Qelsum royal court feared the consequences of Guy displaying a full beard without a Qelsan counterpoint—and as this display did not involve a direct magical competition against Avari, the Qelsan court insisted Toa grow out his own facial hair.

As much as Toa does not want to admit it, the goatee does have advantages. His chin and upper lip were much warmer with a layer of hair covering it; dignitaries were in such awe at the power conveyed that numerous agreements advantageous to Qelsum were given; and teaching had become easier as his goatee conveyed an air of authority that made even the most unruly students obedient.

The fangirls for Toa and Guy are louder than usual, all insisting THEIR prince had the more magnificent facial hair. Clearly, the fullness and thickness of Guy’s beard conveyed his superiority—no, no, the Toa-sters insisted, Toa’s long beautiful goatee showcased Qelsum’s might better. Guy and Toa grumble at the comments and at one another frequently, both embarrassed at the farcical turn the situation had taken. But until their kingdoms release them from their hairy obligation, the facial hair remains.

MC: What IS it with people’s obsession over size?

Fenn: It’s not the size that counts Treasure. It’s how you use it.

Speaking of how you use it…

FENN and ROY

Fenn: I say Roy, you’re not participating in this facial hair competition?

Roy: Why, no. I prefer the clean-cut look. It suits my purposes.

Fenn: *Smirks* You can’t grow a full-beard, can you?

Roy: *Smiles bigger* I did not say that, Master Fenn.

Fenn: You didn’t have to Roy.

Roy: And is there a reason why you’re only growing a mustache?

Fenn: It suits my purposes equally well. Or so I’ve been told. *Wink*

Fenn grows a long twirling lavender mustache. The mustache, while not particularly full, has the remarkable ability to grow and shrink several feet at Fenn’s discretion, like magical retractable hairy vines. It becomes an extension of Fenn himself—for better and worse.

Female student one: My date with Prince Fenn was absolutely divine!

Female student two: So was mine. A night with Prince Fenn is like being caressed with two sets of arms!

Fenn: Are you two comparing notes? May I join you? *His mustache elongates and tickles the ear of each student*

Students: Oooooh!

Roy is incapable of growing a full beard. He CAN, however, maintain a 5 o’clock shadow on his face. This beard stubble is very light in color—so light, it can only be seen if one were mere inches from his face. Roy uses this fact to his advantage.

Roy: Did I miss a spot while shaving Heartspell? *Nuzzles his face against MC’s cheek and neck*

MC: Roy! I’ve told you that tickles!

Roy: Yes, your point being…? *Continues to nuzzle their increasingly red neck*

MC: I didn’t want to resort to this, but these are MY leg hairs…

Roy: Oh you are quite the devious little…*starts laughing as MC lifts the fabric up from Roy’s pants and rubs their leg against Roy’s exposed shin*

Grayson walks up to Roy’s door. Upon hearing dual voices laughing from within, he turns to the diplomat next to him. “My apologies, it appears Prince Roy is indisposed.” Grayson barely withholds the word AGAIN.

RIO and LYNT

Rio, Lynt, Sherry, and MC eat in the dining hall. Sherry asks if Rio and Lynt intend to grow out their facial hair.

Lynt: *Shrugs* It’s too much a bother. I am a Prince whether there is or is not hair on my face.

Rio: Nope. The only hair that grows on me and my dad is on our heads. Not that it makes a difference—dad’s the best king there is!

Sherry: You two are the only ones that show any common sense.

Rio: Roy’s an S:Rank and he doesn’t appear to be taking this rumor seriously.

MC: *Rubs their neck, muttering* Yeah, APPEARS.

Knight ambles over with a tray of food. Suddenly, he jumps in the air.

Knight: OI! Keep your hands off me you—! *Rubs his backside*

Fenn: *Smiles cheekily while retracting his mustache* My hands didn’t touch you, did they, dear Knight?

LOU and the PRINCES

Lou summons the princes to his office. Guy and Toa glare at one another miserably while scratching their faces. Fenn twirls one side of his mustache while lightly massaging Lynt’s hair with his other mustache half.

Lou: I suppose you all would like to know who has won my facial hair competition.

Guy: *Eyes widen* …

Toa: YOU started this ridiculous rumor?! *Lou’s familiars, Phinny and Nix, resignedly nod their feathered heads*

Lou: I have written to each of your fathers to announce the winner—

Rio: Wait, where’s Lance?

Toa: He hasn’t shown up to class for days.

Lou: The winner of this contest is—*at this precise moment, Lance casually enters the office* Master Ira!

The princes stare in bewilderment as Lance opens the door. He hasn’t been seen in four days, but in that short time he has gone from clean shaven to a full dark purple lumberjack-style beard. Lance has spent the past few days with the child Christoph. He’s just arrived from reading Christoph a series of Saligian fairytales—including a reenactment of the brave woodsman (complete with full beard—grown to amuse the boy). Lance reveals none of this as he glares at Lou.

Lance: What utter rot. *Leaves and closes the door*

Lou: Oh well, I’ll give him his prize later. *Turns to the other princes* As the contest has ended, I’ve informed the kings you no longer need to participate if that is your desire.

Guy immediately removes his beard with magic, muttering “Ridiculous.” Toa sighs deeply and leaves without another word. As the other princes leave, Lou calls out.

Lou: Master Invidia! MC has been sporting high collared shirts as of late. Have they caught a chill? The visiting diplomat was quite worried on their behalf.

Roy: *Smiles* Rest assured, I will take care of them.

#court of darkness #otome romance #fluff and crack #crack fanfic #otome game #otome #guy avari #toa qelsum #roy invidia #fenn luxure

[steddieunderdogfics]

Boy For All Seasons by stevesbipanic

@stevesbipanic

Rating: Teen and Up

7,231 words, 13/13 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Fluff, Partially a crack fic, Steve Harrington is a flirt, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Mess, Steve Harrington is a Tease, Eddie Munson the Biggest Drama Kid, Canon Compliant, but only for Steve's side, Everybody Lives, except billy lol, No beta we die like Barb, very short chapters, crossposted on tumblr

Summary:

What started as a joke to take down Emporer Steve, in effect murdering Eddie's crush on him becomes an effort to make the King blush through all holiday seasons. aka A story whose plot grew from an Ides of March crack fic.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @stevesbipanic. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #writer's wednesday #teen and up #fluff #fluff and crack #canon compliant

[spirkme915]

No Way in Hell

idk what this is, but here it is! @remusmoonshinezine posted a super sad fic a few days ago and i needed a massive dose of fluff, so i ended up writing this. it's pretty much spirk fluff & crack (from bones' pov) and i have so many regrets, but, apparently, not much shame. Edit: Now cross-posted to ao3

Leonard doesn’t have to look up from his padd to understand that the only question he needs to ask is, “Do I want to know?”

Jim is hovering outside his office door - shifting from foot to foot, indecisive - and, really, that’s indication enough that something has gone horribly wrong. Not life-threatening wrong, no - Jim is eerily calm when that particular dam is breached. And if it was something Jim could fix on his own then he would be holed up somewhere licking his wounds. God knows Jim doesn’t willingly visit sickbay unless it’s for a drink and a semi-tolerant ear as the captain moons over his untouchable first officer.

So, whatever happened, it’s somewhere in that mushy middle ground between death and pining.

“You probably should know, but…”

Leonard sighs, looks up. He’s on his feet - hypo in hand - before he’s thought to move. “Good god, man. What did you do? Stick a hornet in your eye?”

“Something like that.”

The hypo hisses as Leonard injects an antihistamine, then he’s poking at prodding at Jim’s eye, making sure that it’s only the lid and surrounding tissue that’s swollen up like a goddamn helium balloon and not the eye itself. Jim doesn’t protest the intrusion and that, more than anything, sets off Leonard’s internal Red Alert.

He steps back and targets Jim with his best time-to-‘fess-up glare. “There’s nothing in your eye and there aren’t any marks.”

“There, uh, wouldn’t be.” Jim blinks as the swelling begins to recede. “Am I good to go?”

“Am I going to get any answers out of you?”

Jim swivels on his heel, heading for door. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“And I’ll take that as a no,” he grumbles under his breath as Jim hightails it out of sickbay. He presses the comm button. “Sickbay to Spock.”

“Spock here.”

“I just gave the captain a heavy dose of antihistamines. He’ll be out for the night and should be good to go for Alpha tomorrow, but here’s your heads up in case you need to take the conn.”

A pause. “Understood, Doctor.”

Leonard rolls his eyes to the heavens. Jim waxing poetic about Vulcan agility and strength he can take; Spock’s brand of pining makes his head hurt.

“He’s fine. If you want to check on him later, though, go for it.”

“I will do so, Doctor.”

Leonard clicks off the comm before he mutters, “Of course you will.”

Goddamn idiots in charge of the ship. He isn’t paid enough for this.

---

He’s battling the computer over requisition forms the next time Jim shows up at his door. This time, his erstwhile captain is looking guiltier than the groom at a shotgun wedding.

Leonard surveys where Jim has his shirt-sleeves hiked up - skin on both arms spotted with hives. He glances at the garbled supply forms on his screen and briefly envies the tech department - their patients aren’t sentient.

He gives in to his fate and shuts off his screen. “Let me guess. Arm-wrestling with a cactus?”

“I haven’t been in the botany lab today.”

“Then you were ritually bathing your arms in Caitian milk.”

“What? I don’t know where I’d even get that -“

“The source is literally in the name, Jim.”

“- and anyway, isn’t that supposed to be beneficial for Human skin?”

“Not yours.” Leonard gets up from his chair, waving at Jim to come closer. “When did it start?”

“My apologies, Doctor,” Spock says as he suddenly appears in the doorway like a damn wraith. “I was notified that you are having difficulties with your terminal.”

“And tech sent you?”

“You are not known for your ‘bedside manner,’ particularly when you are experiencing frustration. To employ one of your colloquialisms, you ‘scare the pants off them’ in such circumstances.”

That’s actually…fair.

Leonard waves in Spock then refocuses on Jim. “You. Talk.”

“It started about thirty minutes ago. It was just one hive on my right hand and I ignored it, then…”

Despite the lingering nature of that sentence, Leonard is well aware Jim ain’t gonna finish it. Especially since his crush is leaned over a desk only footsteps away. Quite frankly, it’s a miracle he has Jim’s attention at all.

He sighs.

“Look, Jimmy boy. You gotta give me something to work with here.”

“Do I?”

Leonard has a hypo to Jim’s neck faster than Jim can rethink his shit-eating grin.

“Ow, Bones!”

“Serves you right. Get out of my sickbay.”

He doesn’t bother to tell Jim not to come back unless he’s willing to talk. It’s a threat with no teeth and Jim knows it. Even though he may question his life choices on an hourly basis - sometimes minute-by-minute - hitching his horse to Jim’s wagon is one of the best decisions he ever made. He’ll never tell Jim that outright, but he supposes that keeping the golden boy of Starfleet alive, despite his shenanigans, is proof enough.

He watches Jim saunter out - rubbing at his neck as he goes - then turns around. “Verdict, Mr. Spock?”

“I believe the captain will recover just as well as he did the last time. However, I have shared with him that it would be prudent to uncover the underlying cause for his reactions. It appears he has…rejected my advice.”

Leonard narrows his eyes. “I was talking about the computer.”

Spock freezes. Blinks. “Ah yes. I have found the error and rectified it.”

“Great. Now, tell me again why the first officer of the flagship is fixing my computer instead of a cadet?”

“My work is now complete, therefore the question is immaterial. Good evening, Doctor.”

As if it weren’t already ratcheted sky-high, the haughtiness factor flies off the charts when Spock stands, hands clasped behind his back. Even the door seems to swish shut more dramatically than usual.

Leonard isn’t fooled.

Spock came here to check up on Jim, and whatever Spock thinks Jim’s doing - or, hell, knows Jim’s doing - it’s something he doesn’t approve of. Add in the fact that Jim must know that Spock knows, because loverboy didn’t give the object of his obsession even a hint of a glance, and it all adds up to trouble. Possibly heartbreak. Definitely cattiness.

“Nope,” Leonard says out loud. He pops open his liquor cabinet, grabs a bottle, then props his feet up on his desk. “There is no way in hell I’m getting involved in that.”

---

God. Fucking. Dammit.

He’s going to have to get involved.

Jim is standing by the replicators, tray in hand, leaning in as he talks with a visiting Vulcan scientist. On the surface it would seem like any of the hundreds of professional encounters Jim has every day, but Jim’s lips are swollen. Which they definitely weren’t an hour ago, when Leonard just happened to catch Jim waltzing into the labs to greet said visiting Vulcan scientist.

It’s possible it’s another allergic reaction - one minor enough that Jim didn’t seek out Leonard’s help - but the cacophonous silence and phaser beam glare of his table mate tell him otherwise.

Spock hasn’t looked away from Jim and the Vulcan scientist since they walked in together.

Has he mentioned that the visiting Vulcan scientist - who spent the last hour alone with Jim in the lab and now Jim has swollen lips - is a Vulcan?

“So,” he says. “How about that Surak guy, huh? He really put that can-do attitude into Vulcan.”

Not even a hint of a disdainful twitch.

Leonard heaves a sigh.

And he thought suffocating, vaporized blood, and death were the worst things that could happen to him in space.

He’s going to have to get involved.

---

Despite being the emotionless one, it’s clear to Leonard what Spock’s thinking. It’s Jim he can’t get a handle on.

He has even less of a grasp when he walks into Jim’s quarters to find that the captain’s lips have morphed into grapefruits. He has his tricorder in one hand and his hypo in the other in two steps. Thankfully, he doesn’t need an additional appendage in order to deploy his righteous indignation.

“Can you breathe?”

Jim nods. “It’s just my lips not my tongue or throat.”

“Good. Then you’re not in immediate danger.”

He unleashes a flurry of hyposprays on Jim’s neck until Jim is swatting him away. “What the hell, Bones?”

“Me?” Leonard yells. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jim blinks. His lips flap. “What?”

Leonard grits his teeth. He’s surrounded by beings with the emotional intelligence of a turnip. “I thought that your lips were swollen from kissing one certain Vulcan, but this…” He reviews the tricorder readings again, frowns. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Wait. You knew?”

He scoffs. “You made it pretty damn obvious.”

“You can’t tell Spock.”

“You think Spock doesn’t know?”

“Shit. That’s why -“ Jim shakes his head. “I was trying to be discreet.”

Discreet my ass, is what he wants to say. But the hangdog expression on Jim’s face tells him that Jim is already chasing his tail. If Jim thinks he’s going to lure Spock in with jealousy, then he’s got another thing coming to him.

“Look. I know you think you know what you’re doing here -“ Jim opens his mouth to protest that and Leonard glares at him until those flappy lips close. “But you have a reputation that you and I both know isn’t accurate or deserved - relationships mean something to you. And as far as I can tell, it’s the same way for Vulcans. Hell, maybe even more so. So you better be damn sure what you’re doing.”

Jim deflates just as fast as his lips. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“So you don’t think this“ - Jim circles a finger around his lips - “is connected to…that.”

“No.” Leonard refrains from rolling his eyes clear out of his sockets and focuses on the tricorder again. Jim’s reactions started days ago and the visiting scientist just came on board - of course they’re not connected. “But we have to figure out what is causing it. Anything else you need to confess to, Don Juan?”

“I really don’t know what it could be, Bones.”

No, he really doesn’t. Leonard sees the frustration in the set of Jim’s jaw.

“I won’t make you take a trip to sickbay, but I’m going to need some of your blood to analyze. And if it happens again then come see me immediately so I can take readings while the reaction is happening.”

“Got it.”

The slump in Jim’s shoulders softens something in Leonard too. He stows away his righteous indignation - for now.

“Get some sleep, Jim. I’ll talk to Spock.”

Jim shakes his head, emphatic. “No. I need to do it myself.”

Not a turnip then. Maybe more like…a potato. At least Jim has eyes on the situation now.

Leonard takes some of Jim’s blood, takes his leave, and - of fucking course - runs right into Spock as soon as Jim’s door closes behind him.

He has half a mind to facetiously ask Spock if he’s taken on maintenance work now and is checking the bulkheads outside of the captain’s quarters for hull breaches, but everything about Spock is…droopy. Oh, he’s still all harsh angles and coiled muscle, but if Spock had whiskers or a tail then they’d be dragging on the ground. Seems fitting since Jim’s gone full wounded puppy and it’s likely the two of them are about to go at it like cats and -

Leonard’s eyes widen, the readings from his tricorder suddenly making sense.

“Wasn’t your last landing party with Jim on that planet with the emerald tigers?”

Spock inclines a brow. “That is...functionally correct. However, the Ji’ial call them klonukto, which in their language means -”

Leonard waves that away with a mumbled close enough and is halfway to the turbolift before Spock calls out, “May I ask if this is significant to the captain’s health, Doctor?”

Leonard stops, sighs, then turns around. Of course Spock is still concerned about Jim despite what he witnessed today - there isn’t anything logical about the way Spock feels about Jim.

“I think I may know what’s causing Jim’s reactions.”

“You believe it was initiated by our interaction with the Ji’ial.”

Sort of.

Maybe.

“It’s the strongest possibility right now,” he hedges. “I need to go run some tests.”

“I am gratified you have a new hypothesis to pursue.”

Instead of drooping, Spock…eases. That it’s a tangible shift says a whole hell of a lot - Spock is desperately relieved for Jim. Leonard’s guilt immediately takes over and, really? Why is he feeling guilty about Jim kissing someone else in order to make a Vulcan jealous? Not his monkeys, not his circus.

Of course, the words are tumbling out of his mouth before his I-don’t-give-a-shit kicks in. “If you’re going to see Jim, I don’t think you’re going to like what he has to say.”

“I am quite sure you are incorrect, Doctor.”

And, with that, Spock enters Jim’s quarters.

Leonard wants to smash his head against the bulkhead, but…whatever. Spock is gonna Spock and Jim is gonna Jim and never the twain shall meet.

“Not your monkeys, not your circus,” he reminds himself.

He has other mammals to think about.

---

Leonard stations his elbows on the lab table, drops his head into his hands, grips his hair in his fists, and pulls. If he’s also internally screaming, then, well, that’s his own business.

It’s not Ji’ial. Not Caitian.

He even requested a ship-wide scan to ensure they didn’t have a warm-blooded stowaway that accidentally got caught up in a transport beam or some ensign brought onboard to make the Enterprise more homey. No such luck.

Absolutely none of Jim’s readings make sense if there isn’t -

“Spock to Dr. McCoy.”

Leonard may just let a bit of that internal scream slip. He doesn’t have the patience for will-they-won’t-they drama right now.

He hits the comm button because, well, he always does. “What’s up, Spock?”

“You are needed in Jim’s quarters immediately.”

Leonard’s relatively sure that if Jim was on death’s doorstep then Spock would have some kind of inflection in his voice. The lack of it tells him Jim’s knee-deep in that mushy middle ground again.

“I’ll be right there.”

His hypos are locked and loaded when he steps into Jim’s room, all of them clattering to the deck when he takes in the plague-reminiscent tableau in front of him.

Spock stands - spine rebar straight - in a black robe, hands clasped behind his back. His hair is disheveled as if he just removed one of those pointy-nosed masks. He hovers next to Jim’s bed where the captain is laying naked, hives covering him head to feet, skin reddening and swelling. Even though Jim has the sheet draped over his delicate bits, Leonard is relatively sure that they continue all the way -

He winces. That’s gotta hurt.

Or, well, itch.

Or maybe both.

Yikes.

Spock tilts his head. “I believe your hypothesis that my biology is not causing Jim’s reactions is incorrect.”

Leonard’s tricorder drops to the deck too.

“Your what?!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jim says. “Whoa. You said you knew. That it was obvious.”

“Obviously it wasn’t!” He stabs a finger at Spock. “What does he mean his biology?”

“You said I was kissing a Vulcan!”

“Yes. The visiting Vulcan science officer!”

“What? Why would I be kissing a Vulcan who’s not Spock?”

“That’s what I wanted to know!”

“Doctor,” Spock cuts in. “I believe you may want to attend to Jim’s breathing before it becomes more labored.”

Shit.

Spock’s right. Jim’s still able to yell but that’s not gonna last long.

He scoops up his supplies and crosses the room. Jim sags into the bed when the first wave of anaphylaxis meds hit his bloodstream, his respiration begins to even out. Leonard grits his teeth and holds his silence until he’s sure that Jim is easing back from the precipice.

It’s in that quiet that it hits him. He groans. “It’s likely that Vulcans evolved from felines.”

“That is the predominate theory, Doctor.”

He glares up at Spock. “And it never occurred to you that Jim is allergic to cats?”

Spock inclines a brow and opens his mouth, but it’s Jim who speaks first. “Go easy on him, Bones - it’s my fault. He thought it was the most likely scenario and wanted me to tell you, but I was trying to be discreet.”

“When have you ever been discreet, Jim?”

Jim shrugs. “It’s Spock.”

Leonard supposes that explains it all.

Relationships mean something to Jim. They may mean even more to Vulcans. And, well, this relationship has all the hallmarks of “legendary” stamped across it.

Goddamn legendary idiots.

He pushes another hypo into Jim’s neck, sighs. “And there’s the cure for your allergy.”

“That’s it?!” Jim’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you give me that years ago?”

“Not a lot of Terran cats around these parts, so it should’ve been an unnecessary shot. But I suppose this ones hybrid physiology was tailor-made to set you off.”

Jim smirks.

Spock clears his throat.

Leonard wants to die.

Since there’s zero chance of him gracefully exiting this conversation, Leonard decides…fuck it.

“Congratulations on the sex,” he says. Jim turns a magnificent shade of red, but at least this time Leonard knows that reaction doesn’t need a hypo. Spock looks like he’s in physical pain. Leonard is gleeful. “But really? No more of it for at least twenty-four hours.”

Jim’s Yes, Bones comes through the sheet that Jim’s dragged up his chest to hide behind.

Knowing full well that the timer is already ticking down, Leonard looks up at Spock. “If I don’t hear from you twenty-four hours and five minutes from now, then I’m going to assume the shot worked.”

Spock’s lip twitches. “Understood, Doctor.”

---

Twenty-four hours and thirty-seven minutes later, Leonard is just about to close his eyes and crash when his comm beeps.

He swears into the silence of his quarters then hits the button to play the audio message from Jim.

“Uh, Bones? Question that may or may not be related to…yesterday. Spock doesn’t make this sound when he’s in a healing trance, does he?”

Leonard’s adrenaline spikes. A healing trance? What the hell have they been doing that Jim would even think -

Then he hears it.

Spock is purring.

He thinks about Jim’s swollen eye, his hands and arms, his lips, his entire body covered in hives, then how Leonard’s still not entirely sure what actions caused those particular reactions, and…

Nope.

No way in hell.

Leonard flips his comm closed, turns over, and screams into his pillow. Those lovesick fools are just gonna have to figure out their differing biology on their own.

There is no way in hell he’s getting involved in that.

#spirk #spirk fanfiction #k/s #jim kirk #spock #bones mccoy #bones pov #no way in hell #my fic #fluff and crack #idk if i'll post this to ao3 #but yeah #i do prose and this #whatever this is #tos spirk #aos spirk #i'm not really sure which is more applicable #guess it could be either

[thatmexisaurusrex]

For the Holidays

Hey, people! Remember when I said I had an idea for my “wrong number”, “bad pickup lines”, and possibly “blind date” choices from the poll I did over a month back that’s totally going to tie into my Sambucky Festive Season Bingo Card choice? Here's the fourth chapter of that fic! Enjoy! 🥰

For the Holidays

| Pairing: SamBucky | Rating: M | Chapter: 5/5 | WC: 25.6K |

Summary: After Sam is dumped by his girlfriend, Bucky suggests he pretends to be Sam's boyfriend while Sam's visiting his family for the holidays.

Excerpt:

“What do you say? Fake boyfriends?” Sam should probably say no. But Bucky was giving him these puppy dog eyes. This pleading to help Sam out. And Sam found himself reaching out for Bucky’s face – and squishing it too. “What the hell? Why not?” said Sam, the both of them beaming, “Fake boyfriend.” “Fake boyfriend,” grinned Bucky, all smiles and dopey.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

For the Night

| Pairing: SamBucky | Rating: E | WC: 2K |

Summary: What happens that night Bucky kissed Sam in the shower and Sam kissed him back.

Excerpt:

Bucky got the hint, deepening the kiss as he began lifting Sam up and – Well. They slipped and almost died. Sam yelped as his feet lost ground, his world tumbling. Bucky clung to Sam as Sam reached desperately for something to slow the fall, taking the bathroom curtains with them. Sam could hear the rings of the curtain snapping off the railing as the curtain fell on top of them. Sam felt all the air leave him as Bucky fell on top of him. He groaned in the bathtub, wondering who thought it was a good idea to make out there. Right. It was sort of Sam. Sam giggled. Bucky joined him. The both of them snickered half-hard in the bathtub with the curtain on top of them as their water transitioned from hot to warm. “You okay?” asked Bucky into the bathtub, “Anything hurt?” “Just my dignity,” said Sam, assessing himself, “I think it might be time to get out of the shower.” Bucky nodded into Sam’s shoulder.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

This fic is for @sambuckylibrary's Sambucky Festive Season Bingo and will fill "Fireplace", "Ugly Sweaters", "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?", "Baking and Decorating Cookies", "Winter Mythologies", "Hometown Visit", and "Seeing the Lights" on Bingo Card A. It is also for @winterfalconevents' WinterFalcon Bingo Round 2 and will fill C1: "Blind Date", U4: "Wrong Number", and C4: "Bad Pickup Lines" on my bingo card.

#sbfestiveseason2022 #winterfalcon bingo round two #winterfalcon bingo #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fic #friends to lovers #fake relationship #holiday fic #fluff and crack #family fluff #no powers au #my fic #For the Holidays

[wangxianficrecs]

Taking Responsibility by deliciousblizzardshark

Taking Responsibility

by deliciousblizzardshark

T, 6k, wangxian

Summary: When Lan Wangji falsely claims, in front of the entire cultivation world, that he impregnated Wei Wuxian in his dreams and is the father of A-Yuan, he’s not prepared for the consequences of his actions.

Excerpt: “Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, slowly. “Do you really think I… carried a child? Lan Zhan’s child?” “Who else’s child would you carry?” Jiang Chang demanded, yelling as quietly as possible. “Are you suggesting you cheated on Lan Wangji?” Wei Wuxian dropped his head into his hands. “How could I cheat on Lan Wangji?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I was never with Lan Wangji!” “You had a child with him and you weren’t even together?” Jiang Cheng demanded. “It was in a dream!” Wei Wuxian protested and then realized what he’d just said. He stood up and grabbed the toddler. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “I’ve been gone from the cultivation world for three years and everyone’s gone insane.”

canon-divergence, fix-it, getting together, trope subversion/inversion, pretend mpreg, accidental baby acquisition, lots of it, fluff and crack, sex education: clearly not a thing in jianghu, qiongqi path ambush didn't happen, lan wangji lies and gets his man and his babies, @deliciousblizzardshark

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #Mojo's Rec #canon-divergence #fix-it #getting together #trope subversion/inversion #pretend mpreg #fluff and crack #deliciousblizzardshark #Taking Responsibility #short fic < 15k #teen

[stay-armycrtz]

Sugar and spice- with everything nice

I am officially back! I've been away for a longg time and am now officially putting my work back out there! I've moved over from my Styles account and am now here- mad crazy for everything Kpop and my boys! 

You'll soon be able to see which fandoms I'm mad about and I will also make a new master list- as soon as I figure out how to work this app again! 

Without further ado! Here's Sugar and spice- with everything nice. Bang Christopher Chan version! 

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

Y/N shoves another tray of chocolate chip muffins into her beloved oven, slamming the door closed with a huff once the tray was placed down on the shelf. The noise that squeezes it was past her lips borders on a small growl and her normally well loved kitchen shivers in response to the noise. Y/N moves away from the oven and leans over the kitchen counter, placing her head in her hands and massaging at her temples- the ever present headache she’d had since her and Chan had started arguing had slowly been getting worse. These are not the sounds she usually makes in her kitchen, never banging and huffing around. Y/N’s happy place has always been her kitchen, it’s somewhere she smiles without even realising it, where she sways her hips to the beat of Stray Kids or 3RACHA songs without even realising what she’s doing, all the while food sizzles in pans and delicious smells flood their home.

Today, Y/N is anything but happy. Today, Y/N’s face is pinched up into a permanent scowl rather than the happy/pleased smile she usually wears in her kitchen. No music plays and even if it did Y/N was in absolutely no mood to be dancing around the kitchen. Not a single word had worked it’s way past her lips since Chan has left hours ago.

She’s just wasting time. She knows exactly what she’s doing- there’s papers sitting in her desk in her office. Papers that she really should be grading- her student are eventually going to need them back. But here she stands, glowering at her kitchen instead. Baking. Angrily. Any chance that she may have had at focusing at her work was long gone, and had been- the second that they had started fighting.

“Oh, I could kill him,” Y/N growls into the quiet of the room as she snatches up the mixing bowl she had just finished using, she looks down at the bowl, debating if she could be bothered to clean them again. She shakes her head, deciding to just get another one from the cupboard by the sink. She had several sets for this purpose- well, not this purpose- so that she can keep baking, without needing to constantly clean, for special occasions like Christmas or their birthdays. Chan has always made sure that she had loads of baking equipment to use.

Y/N drags another set of bowls out from the cupboard and places them on the side to start mixing together another batch of cake batter. This time she decides she’s going to use dark chocolate because she knows that Cham prefers milk chocolate. He had always preferred the milk over any other kind of chocolate.

It’s not very often that her and Chan fight, it’s not. But when they do… they can be ridiculous, sometimes their fights only last a few house, sometimes days. This time it’s the latter kind of fight. Y/N’s not even sure where Chan is right now, she thinks he’s probably at the gym, more than likely he’s at the studio. Those are the places that he usually goes when he storms off, it’s Chans own way of clearing his head- just like the kitchen usually is for Y/N.

When Y/N’s phone vibrates on the kitchen counter, she snatches it up- uncaring of the flour that she’s getting all over the device, only to realise that the notification is another email from one of her students asking about one of the assignments. Not a single message from Chan, he’s being stubborn now, not even texting her to let her know where he is and when exactly he plans on showing his face and actually coming home. To be fair, Y/N’s being exactly the same, she hasn’t messaged Chan all day either. And she certainly isn’t going to be the first one to cave and give in, she’s not going to be the first one to message him. She throws her phone back onto the counter and moves back to the cake batter, she picks the bowl up and starts spooning the batter into cake cases, waiting to be able to put them into the oven.

Y/N decides that since she’s done everything else from scratch she might as well make the frosting for the cakes from scratch as well, it’ll take longer- not that the frosting will take long to make, it’s just a little extra time she doesn’t have to think the argument she’s having with Chan. The fact that the frosting only takes an extra 10 minutes to make frustrates her to no end, and she slams the spatula that she had been using down on the counter. It’s really not fair, the spatula and her poor kitchen hadn’t done anything wrong and here she was, taking her frustrations out on her kitchen.

She’s in the middle of frosting the first batch of cakes when she hears the front door open. Y/N actually feels how her spine stiffens and she turns her body just enough that she can’t see him coming down the hallway. She can tell that it’s Chan regardless on if she can see him or not, the sound of his front door keys hitting the glass bowl to the side of the door and the sound of him slipping of his shoes- them being left to lay in a semi neat pile just inside as familiar as her own breath.

Y/N glances up, listening out over her shoulder for Chan in the hallway, she can hear him coming, he’s walking slower than he normally would, and he doesn’t even stop or say anything when he enters the kitchen. Anger wells up in Y/N chest, the silent treatment that they had with each other had finally reached its limit, for her anyways.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N shouts as she spins around to look at Chan, her jaw set tight as she clenches her teeth, her small fists clenched down at her sides. “Not a single word?”

Chan, earphone in his ears, just stands there for a few seconds, staring at her. Just like Y/N thought he’d been at the gym, his gym bag sat near his feet, a small towel rapped around his neck, hair damp- Y/N’s going to assume his showered. Of course, he looks amazing, standing there all sexy, muscles bulging out of his gym shirt, hair ruffled. God damn Bang Christopher Chan for being so sexy when all Y/N wanted to do was be mad at him.

Before Chan even takes his earphones out of his ears, he shakes his head, “You didn’t say anything to me either Y/N,” he growls in response to her comment,

“And how exactly would you know,” she counters, he’s not wrong. She didn’t. “Maybe I did, how would you know when you had your earphones in!”

Chan blinks at her, shaking his head again, “You didn’t though, and I was only listening to some music,”

“That’s…” she huffs again, “That’s not the point and you know it!” She clenches her teeth again, fists clenching even tighter down by her legs, “And where have you been?” She questions back. Chan looks down at his gym clothes and then back at Y/N, as though the answer should’ve been obvious enough that she shouldn’t have needed to ask.

“The gym,” he grunts back, “I’m going to get changed,”

“And I suppose it would’ve killed you to pick up the phone and at least text me, or call?” She shouts at him before he can even move.

“It’s not like you called or texted me either is it Y/N!” Chan shouts right back,” You didn’t seem that interested in knowing where I was either,”

Chan’s right. Y/N knows that he’s right. He’s not right about Y/N not wanting to know where he was, she had wanted to at least know that. Y/N was very interested in knowing where he’d been the last couple of hours, she was just being stubborn- not wanting to cave and text him first. It was silly, she knows that. It was silly and immature, but Y/N’s sure as hell not going to admit that.

Y/N doesn’t know when she does it, hasn’t got a single clue why she picks one up but her hand reaches for a frosted cupcake and then all of a sudden she’s shoving it into Chan’s face. Chan gasps as the cupcake makes contact with his face, the cupcake crumbles to pieces and falls to his feet on the floor. Crumbs fall down onto the front of his t-shirt, the salted caramel frosting that Y/N had decided on smeared across his cheek down to his chin.

With the remains of a cupcake falling down his shirt, Chan just stands there, his mind not quite grasping what Y/N had just done. He’s half confused, not sure on what’s just happened and how the hell he’s meant to respond. Chan reaches up to wipe the frosting off his face but his hand never touches his skin to get rip of the sticky mess.

Y/N has absolutely no idea what in the hell made her decide to do that, she can’t take it back now, she’s not even sure if she would take it back. Chan’s reaction-or lack there of- is so funny that Y/N doubles over, laughing. She can’t help it, she definitely shouldn’t be laughing. It was extremely immature or her but she couldn’t help herself, and Chan didn’t look like he was finding the funny side of the whole situation.

“I’m…I’m so-“ Y/N stutters out, she can’t decide if she should wrap her arms around herself or cover her mouth to stop the flow of giggles from coming out. “I’m sorry, Chan! I don’t know what… I’m so sorry!”

Licking at his lips, Chan can taste some of the caramel frosting that she had decided to use, he nods his head slowing making his way towards her, his slow approach makes Y/N back up further into the kitchen, she’s really not sure what Chan’s response is going to be.

“Chan, no I…” Y/N doesn’t even know how she can explain what she just did, let alone try and justify it, if also doesn’t help matters that she’s still laughing. “It was funny! A little. You would’ve done the same thing!”

It takes Y/N’s back hitting the counter top on the other side of the kitchen for her to realise that Chan had backed her that far into the kitchen. Chan nods his head again, a little nod and a sarcastic little smirk works it’s way onto his face. Chan reaches behind Y/N, and before she can even realises what’s happening, a full measuring cup of flour is being poured over he head, falling into her hair and down onto her shoulder.

“OH!” She shrikes,

Chan steps back and crosses his arms, smirk still ever present on his beautiful face, “See? I can be funny too.”

Now as well as cupcake crumbs being all over the floor of her kitchen there was a whole measuring cup of flour, and now instead of what was genuine laughter coming from her mouth only moments before, Chans laughter was anything but.

For the exact same reason that Chan didn’t find it funny, Y/N doesn’t either. She can’t even remember why she found it so funny in the first place. And now, instead of just being angry at Chan, Y/N was seething. And instead of going about the argument in a mature adult way, she looks along her counter top for something that she can throw back at Chan. There’s still some left over cake batter in one of the mixing bowls on the counter top, just sitting there, just waiting for her to pick it up. Right there. Right where she was standing. Y/N scoops up a handful of batter and tries to fling it at Chan, only to have her hand caught mid-air, most of the cake batter ends up on the floor- joining the cake crumbs and flour- Chan does however, need to quickly jerk his head to the side to miss getting what’s left of the batter in his face. He gets some, but instead of getting it all, he only gets a small splatter of batter across his cheek, joining the already smeared frosting.

“What the hell has gotten into you today!” Chan asks, shaking his head as if that would remove some of the batter from his cheeks.

“You!” Y/N exclaims, pulling at her hand to try and get out of Chans hold, “You’ve gotten into me!”

“Yeah,” Chan huffs as he drops Y/N wrist and steps back away from her, “You wish,”

A gasp works it’s way up Y/N throat, squeezing past her lips, she’s not sure if it’s because of what Chan said, the way he said it, or if it’s even the way he let go of her hand and backed up. She all of a sudden doesn’t want what’s happening to carry on, she wants Chan to hold her. Not even 2 seconds ago she was trying her hardest to get out of his grip, but now, she’d give anything to be back in his arms. To hell with this argument, she doesn’t care who’s right or wrong, Y/N just wants this to be over.

Chan’s whole attitude has shifted too, it’s subtle- but it’s there. His eyes has softened and his lips are now slightly turned down into a frown instead of pressed together in a hard line. His entire posture, instead of trying to get away from Y/N, seems just about ready to comfort her, or seek some form of comfort from her.

They both stand there, staring at each other- Chan’s face covered in frosting and cake batter, and Y/N covered in flour, cake batter dripping from her hand. All of a sudden Y/N’s throwing her self into Chan’s arms- or Chan’s lunging at her- either way, there both a complete and utter mess, and all over each other.

Messy hands and all, Y/N gets a tight grip on Chan’s hair and pulls him closer to her, her legs moving up to wrap around his, Chans hands fitting snugly around her ass. It doesn’t even matter that their making each other even messier, the combination of cake batter, flour and frosting getting everywhere. Y/N would spend everyday like this, if she could.

“Oh my god,” Y/N groans against Chans lips, already breathless, “you taste amazing, Chan,”

“Mmh,” Chan’s hands grip Y/N’s ass even tighter, lifting her up a little higher so her legs can wrap around his waist completely, “cause’ your baking is amazing,”

Y/N huffs a small laugh into their next kiss, “Not what I meant,”

Chan laughs back, “I know, still the truth though,”

Y/N no longer in the mood for their arguing, shrugs her shoulders, allowing Chan to move backwards in the kitchen and drop her onto the counter. She complains at this, all of her measuring cups, bowls and bags of different ingredients go crashing to the floor.

“My cakes!” She shouts, “watch my cakes,”

Chan nods his head, even as he begins to draw Y/N top up and off her body, only stopping to answer her when the offending piece of clothing is up and off her body, dropped onto the floor.

“I can see your cakes,” he growls back at her, voice heated. “Now stay still,”

A small whimper falls from her lips, goosebumps rise all over her skin, even with the whole house being nice and toasty with all of the baking that she had been doing all day. Y/N can’t help it, not with way that Chan’s talking to her. Chan drags his fingers down her throat and front, his fingers grazing over her nipples through the lace of her bra and she arches into his touch, her whole body coming alive.

Chan leans down, licking at the skin above the top of her bra, Y/N can feel how wet she’s becoming. Her whole core tingling, wanting Chan to touch her. Needing Chan to touch her. Chan reaches up behind Y/N and unclasps her bra, it falls lose around her tits and Chan drags it down completely, it swiftly joining her top on the floor. Chan starts mouthing at her chest, the skin rolled between his lips, his teeth lightly grazing over her nipple, just enough for her to arch her whole body into his touch, her core clenching and flooding with wetness.

Y/N reaches out and grips Chan’s chin, pulling him up and slamming her lips to his, a resounding moan works it’s way past Chan’s lips as Y/N works her way down his neck, mouthing and nipping at the skin she can reach from her position on the counter. There’s already pretty red marks blooming underneath the skin that she’s nibbling on. Chan let’s out a small whimper, Y/N pulling him closer so she can grind down on his leg, trying her absolute hardest to get some form of friction against her core.

“Fuck,” Chan groans into her ear, “gonna fuck you right here... right in your kitchen,”

Of course he is. And of course Y/N wants him too, wants him to take her where she sits. And she sure as hell isn’t going to say anything to stop Chan’s train of thought or argue with him.

There close enough now that when Y/N slips her hand down Chan’s front her hand automatically searches for his cock so she can wrap her hand around his head. She finds him quick enough, hand gripping him as he begins sucking his own marks into the skin of her neck. Chan had always loved marking her up, loved seeing the small round marks all over her skin.

Y/N’s fingers work over Chan’s head, his eyes widening, mouth going slack, his groans and whimpers muffled into the skin of her neck. Y/N grins at his response a small huff of a laugh working its way out of her mouth. Chan’s own lips curl up into his own smirk when he looks up at her.

“You think your funny, don’t you?” He grins at her, Y/N shrugs her shoulders in response, “I think you’re a brat,”

Chan reaches up and tugs at the hair at the base of her neck, pulling her head so that she’s looking up at him. Chan bends down and starts sucking on her neck again, nibbling at the skin. No doubt leaving even more marks that Y/N will most likely flush over when she looks at herself in the mirror later.

“Chan… daddy,” Y/N groans, it sounds more like a whine, both to her ears and Chan’s, “I…”

“You what, Y/N?”

There is not a single word or response that Y/N can think of that is an appropriate answer to what Chan is asking. She does however know that she can do more for Chan than just sitting in the kitchen counter looking pretty, kissing at his neck, but as soon as she tries to slide of the counter top to get down on her knees in front of him, Chan grips at her hips to keep her positioned on the counter.

“Where do you think your going?” Chan asks as soon as she tries to move herself of the counter top, “I thought I told you to stay still?”

Without even waiting to hear what she has to say in response, Chan’s yanking at her leggings, pulling them down her legs with enough strength that Y/N has to lean back and grip the edge of the counter so that she doesn’t fall off. Once the legging were down her legs they also get thrown into the collected pile of her clothes on the floor. Chan bends down and bites up her thighs, being less than gentle about the marks he was probably leaving. Chan reaches the apex of her thigh and noses at her through her panties, breathing in deeply, he groans deep in his chest at her scent.

“You smell so good baby,” Chan groans into her skin, he pulls her panties to spine side and runs his tongue up her centre to her clit, Y/N whines, her head falling back, hitting the cupboard behind her head. Chan’s still bent down, head buried in her core, tongue still running up and down, trying to taste as much of her as he can. Chan lifts his head, still tonguing at her and smirks at how wrecked she looks. Huffing out a laugh at how quickly he was able to bring her to the edge in such a short amount of time. Y/N grins back at him, her hand training down and gripping in his hair, pulling him up her body and slamming her lips against his, letting her tongue explore his mouth. Tasting herself in Chan’s mouth she slides her way down the counter, her body grinding against Chan’s the whole way down so that she’s standing next to Chan.

The second Y/N’s feet touch the floor, the second before she can sink down onto the knees in front of him and get Chan’s delicious cock into her watering mouth, Chan’s turning her around and shoving her over the counter she was just sitting on. Bending her over so her ass is sticking out, he lands a quick swat to her left cheek.

“Don’t even think about moving pet,” Chan growls out as he bends down to bite at the skin on the base of her neck, Y/N groans, her pussy flooding with so much wetness she’s pretty sure she can feel it leaking down her thighs.

“Don’t wanna,” Y/N whines back at Chan, attempting to stand back up, she doesn’t get very far before Chan is shoving her back down- holding her there this time- and landing two more smacks to her ass, he growls, really not in the mood for her to be even a little disobedient right now.

“Stay fuckin’ still. I mean it Y/N,”

There’s already bring red hand marks blossoming across the cheek where Chan had decided to spank her, he doesn’t mind – neither does she- clearly loving the expense of red marks that he’s leaving against her beautifully pale skin. Y/N whimpers, legs shaking as Chan slowly drags his hands over the marks,

“See baby, all you had to do was listen,” he coos, she knows by the tone of his voice his not the least bit sorry about the marks on her skin, “just listen, and then daddy wouldn’t have had to spank you,”

She knows he’s right. He’d probably been right all along, this however, is the only situation that she would willingly agree with him,

“Know daddy, didn’t wanna though,” she murmurs back to him.

“I’m fully aware of that fact let,” Chan says into her skin, his hand gently running over her soft ass, “are you going to listen now?” He question, his grip slacking that was still holding her down.

“Yes. Please,” she whines back, pushing her ass out into his hand, Chan lowers his hand, just enough that his fingers are running over her sopping core, she whines again, pushing harder so that his fingers push into her.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines again when Chan moves his down to push against her opening, “Chan…”

Chan responds by shoving his fingers into her, pulling yet another wine out of her mouth, this only makes Chan shove his fingers in harder, faster. Once again bringing her close to the edge she was tethering on earlier.

Chan keeps it up, shoving his fingers in and out of her, working his way up to two before she even realises what his doing. Y/N whines and groans, trying her hardest not to buck down against his hand- which is really difficult considering the fact that every few thrusts of Chans fingers, he drags the across the spot inside her that makes her toes curl and almost fall over the edge she so desperately wants to.

“Fuck! Fuck,” she almost screams, “right there! Please daddy! Right there,” Y/N turns her head to the left, Chan see this and gives her exactly what she wants, shoving his tongue into her mouth and kissing her so hard that she doesn’t even realise that his fingers have slipped out of her and he’s working in shoving his cock inside her.

She screams into the kiss, eyes snapping open as she’s stretched around his huge cock. Chan keeps her hips still, still kissing her lips as he begins to thrust away at her core, pulling almost the whole way out before he’s shoving his cock back inside, all the way down to the base, his hips pressed up against her red ass. She whines, mouth falling open as tears worm their way past her eyes falling down her cheeks she has never felt this good.

“Good pet,” Chan groans in her ear, hand moving up to grip at her throat, he squeezes slightly. Not enough to cut of her air, just enough that she can feel his hand. Just enough that she wants.

“Holy fuck,” she whimpers back, “god yes, daddy.”

Chan snaps his hips faster, he can feel how wet she is. Can feel it practically dripping down her thighs and onto the floor. This makes Chan groan, makes him realise that his release is some much closer than he thought.

“Come on baby, come for daddy,” he reaches down, his fingers rubbing at her clit as he still relentlessly pounds away at her core, chasing his own release so they can come together.

Y/N comes, her whole world shattering behind her eyes as she creams on Chans cock, his following her over, shoving his cock so deep and hard inside her it lifts her off her toes. He comes so much it overflows, his mess joining hers on her thighs and the mess on the floor.

——

They end up on the floor, both curled around each other, sitting amongst the mess of cake batter, flour, crumbs and all of Y/N’s baking equipment. All of which is waiting to be picked up, dusted off and out back into its rightful place in her now once again happy kitchen.

“Didn’t hurt you did I?” Chan whispers into her ear after a few minutes of them lying together, basking in their glow together. He’d taken his shirt of- god knows when- considering it was covered in a multitude of different things, and Y/N runs her hands down his stomach.

“No,” Y/N grins back up at him.

“Good, Y/N… I… I’m so sorry, I should-“

“No Chan! Please, it was my fault,” Y/N interrupts his talking, “it really was my fault,”

She stops talking, their quite with each other, calm. And for a few moments they just lay there, wrapped around each other. Y/N snuggles down closer into Chans chest, and they sit and do absolutely noting. She hopes their done fighting now, she definitely is.

“Hey Y/N,”

Y/N turns her head, looking Chan in the eyes, nodding her head and waiting for him to ask his question.

“Do you?… do you remember why we were fighting?” He asks, face scrunched up into beautiful confusion.

Y/N pulls the exact same face, racking her brain to see if she can remember what had been the cause of all of this, “No. No I don’t.” She states, almost as though it’s a question.

“Yeah,” Chan murmurs, his eyes widening slightly, a small smile working its way onto his face, “me neither,”

They sit there, looking at each other. Matching looks on both their faces, and then suddenly their laughing. Grasping at each other as giggles work past their lips. Eventually they both decide they should get up and get themselves and her poor kitchen clean. Y/N turns off the oven, the cakes that she had been cooking were most definitely ruined by now- she’ll make new ones anyways, this time with milk chocolate instead of dark just to make sure that Chan eats them. They both walk naked towards the stairs, Chan insisting that they get themselves clean and dry before they attempt to clean her ruined kitchen.

“Hey Chan?” Y/N murmurs, being up to kiss the corner of his mouth, Cham hums out his response. “We should solve all of our problems like this from now on,” he laughs head thrown back slightly, eyes creasing shut. He smacks her ass and she squeals in answer, her ass still sore from the slight spanking that she had gotten earlier. Y/N speeds up a little, almost running up the stairs to the bathroom, and into the shower, hers and Chans laughter fill the now happy house, the argument they had long forgotten.

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

AHHHH!!!! 

She’s back!!! 

Let me know what you think! Missed you!

Dari! 

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids fluffs #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #bang chris chan #skz fluff #skz #skz bang chan #fluff #smut #skz smut #fluff and smut #fluff and crack #fluff and comfort #reader interactive #reader insert #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #daddy k!nk #slight choking kink #daddy bang chan #baby girl reader #pet names #its cute #and hot #we love it

[thisdoesntfeelfunny]

Perfect Christmas

(Lestappen, 3.3k, rated T, 1/1)

(Established Relationship, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Christmas Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Christmas Party, Karaoke, Attempt at Humor, Perfect Christmas by S Club 7 is a good song, Mistletoe by Justin Bieber is too but not for a proposal, don't let Daniel and Lando plan your proposal if you don't want a flash-mob, but luckily Max locates a braincell before it could go too far)

Summary:

Lando got the idea that Max could also just sing the song himself. That way he didn’t have to dance but could still be the one to lead the whole thing. Apparently they did listen to Max repeatedly telling them he hated dancing, yet chose not to acknowledge his rejection of the overall idea. --- After getting outsourced from his own proposal planning, Max tries to come up with a way he can show Charles his love, without having to dance. (But ends up doing it a little bit anyway.)

Read it on Ao3 or below. :)

(I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts! :3)

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

Charles had a weird relationship with Christmas.

Of course, Charles himself would never admit that. He always said, that it was nothing more than a normal amount of enjoyment. But Max knew better.

Charles was obsessed.

Over the course of his life, Max was sure, his boyfriend had bought at least two years salaries worth of Christmas decorations. From little Christmas tree ornaments to big light-up stars, he seemed to have decorations for every available surface of the house. Max was relieved that Charles drew the line at all things inflatable, because even though he loved him, that would’ve been a step too far. Other than that, all bets seemed to be off though. A few years ago Charles had even escalated to replacing kitchen utensils and appliances with Christmas-themed ones, when the holiday time started.

And oh boy did it start. Early. At least for Max’s taste.

Charles didn’t go so far as to begin celebrating his favourite holiday on the first of September, when the supermarkets would kickoff selling Christmas related products, but he did start shopping for what he seemed to await the whole year.

The week before the first advent.

For most of that week, Max made sure to be as far away from the flat as possible. Because in addition to being obsessed with the holiday in general, Charles was particularly obsessive when it came to the perfect arrangement of all things Christmas in their home. Everything had to be in the right place and light up at the exact same time. When all of it was set up and done though, Max always helped him tidy up the packaging and store it all for the end of the season. Then they usually fell onto the couch, from where Charles could admire his work and point out all the little details to Max.

Max had never really gotten the hype, if he was honest. Sure it was pleasant to have a few things to make the flat feel cozy and warm during the winter – he could appreciate a nice string light or a well decorated Christmas tree. Still, holidays, particularly Christmas, seemed so oversold to him. Throughout his life, growing up, dealing with marketing and sponsorships for every available holiday, Max had simply lost the enthusiasm for it. He could still appreciate the cheer, but didn’t understand why some people got so overly excited, they had to theme their whole lifes around it.

But Max understood Charles.

He understood how much it meant to him, to have an occasion dedicated to family and celebrating the love between all of them. To get to have down-time and just revel in being near all the people he sees so little of the rest of the year.

Max also understood that Charles just really loved decorating for it.

So he endured the perfectionism, the timers blocking every available outlet and the themed kitchen tongs. There was nothing he would not do for Charles.

This was were the problems started though.

Because Charles knew. He knew and at least during the holidays he seemed to take shameless advantage of it. Roping Max into every Christmas-related activity he could think of.

One of these activities also included another thing Max normally didn’t really care for. Karaoke.

Every year around the third advent, Charles gathered all their available friends and family for a Christmas-themed karaoke night. To celebrate what was, to Charles, the absolute best thing about that time of the year. Christmas Music.

He always booked the room a year in advance and would demand of everyone to be free, because it’s a year from now, what else could you have already planned?

And that’s how Max found himself, sitting in a private karaoke bar, with about as much decorations as their own living room, surrounded by people who where important to them, trying unsuccessfully to calm himself down.

He could not fuck this up. This was important.

Because Max was on a mission.

He knew how much Charles loved Christmas, how much he loved Christmas-Karaoke, how much he loved their families and friends. And Max also hoped he knew how much Charles loved him. Enough to say yes to marrying him.

He had been planning this for a while now. The thought of proposing to his boyfriend on his favourite holiday had been bumbling around Max’s mind for even longer. Yet he had never had the right idea on how to go about it.

So seeing that after being together for 4 years, Max did not want to delay it any further, in July of that year he had caved and told his friends. His first mistake. Because involving Lando and Daniel could never end in a way that was helpful to anyone.

Their initial reaction had of course been one of support. They were happy for the two of them. But Max should have seen the chaos that followed coming.

He had told them what he had come up with so far. Which was not really anything at all, aside from the vague idea, that it had to be around Christmas and needed to have something to do with music. Lando and Daniel had been understandably sceptical and immediately started taking over the planning.

It had all gone downhill from there.

After hours of discussions about proposal plans that seemed to have nothing to do with neither Christmas, music nor Max, they had come to the conclusion that the only way the whole thing would work, was if they were there. So no private moment just for the two of them to enjoy. No, it had to be something big, something that would make an impression. Not just on Charles but hopefully on the whole world.

A flash mob.

And even worse, a flash mob to Mistletoe by Justin Bieber.

Max didn’t know what he found more horrible about that idea – the song, the fact that he was supposed to dance, or the mass of other people that would be doing it with him. He was self-aware enough to know that any kind of dancing from him before a proposal would not end in the result he’d like. But Lando and Daniel had stopped listening to him at that point. All entranced in their amazing idea and already working on choreography.

Fuck.

But apparently being backed into a corner by his overenthusiastic friends, seemed to get his brain working. While they tried to decide on which racing circuit to rent, Max thought about all the things he did not like about their idea and from there tried to find out what he thought would work.

Christmas and music. But no Justin Bieber.

And their families. Because even though Max shuddered at the image of a hundred strangers dancing to a teenagers Christmas pop song, he rather liked the idea of sharing the moment with people. People he actually knew and cared about. So maybe their friends could come too.

But organizing a special gathering would be hard to pull off in secret. And bringing it up to Charles directly would probably only raise suspicions. They were spending the actual holiday only with Charles’ family in Monaco. And Max’s mum and sister were heading to a tropical island on Christmas Eve to mix it up a little. Their annual karaoke meet-up would be the last time they’d all see each other.

The karaoke meet-up.

It seemed to have everything, happening close enough to Christmas for Charles to be in the right mood, involving music, all the relevant people and most importantly, no dancing. At least not the mass choreographed kind.

So Max had finally settled on an occasion, but was still coming up a bit short on the actual execution. He resigned himself to letting his two friends have their fun, thinking of a million ways to embarrass him in front of his boyfriend and the world. However he would need to cut them off at an appropriate time, so it didn’t get out of hand. In the meantime, Max could definitely use some of their plan to his advantage though.

Daniel had tasked him with writing the proposal speech, which was nice considering he was the one doing the actual proposing, but it also presented another problem.

He didn’t know what to say.

Or rather he knew what he wanted to convey, what he felt for Charles and what he wanted him to know, but Max could not, for the life of him, find words that would express that.

“Just say what’s in your heart.”, had been Daniel’s advice, which did nothing to loosen the knot that seemed to have tied up the pipeline between Max’s heart and his head.

Ultimately it was Lando who had the idea that did just that.

“You could always just quote something.”, he had shrugged while scrolling through his phone to find a suitable dance group to hire.

Max, who had been prepared to be as dismissive of the idea as he had been of all the dancers he’d been shown so far, had paused and taken a second to think about it. Sure, quoting would take away from the originality of his speech, but it would still be as genuine. He could even quote someone Charles admired, so it would be doubly heartfelt.

With this new plan in mind, Max started to look through all the books he knew Charles liked and that had romance in them. There weren’t too many but none of them seemed to really fit their situation.

Again Lando came to the rescue. Even if it was not how he thought he did.

After giving up on trying to convince Max to hire professional dancers for the proposal-flash-mob-that-was-definitely-happening, Lando got the idea that Max could also just sing the song himself. That way he didn’t have to dance but could still be the one to lead the whole thing.

(Apparently they did listen to Max repeatedly telling them he hated dancing, yet chose not to acknowledge his rejection of the overall idea.)

Still, Max could’ve hit himself. His whole plan revolved around them being at a karaoke bar, but he didn’t think of just finding a song to quote? And there were so many opportunities. Christmas songs were littered with cheesy love declarations and if something didn’t feel completely right, he could just try to rewrite a bit. At least it wouldn’t be a whole speech.

So that settled it. He would find a song to sing to Charles and convey the love and dedication he had for his boyfriend, without making a complete fool of himself.

Or so he thought.

Because yes, in theory, that sounded like a bullet-proof plan to him. In reality Max had to get up on that stage alone and sing - actually sing - a song that would hopefully not make Charles say no to his question.

Max was so fucked.

He tried calming himself once again by getting up for another drink. He was a Formula 1 driver, for fucks sake. Why was this so hard?

It didn’t help that he hadn’t told anyone he would be doing this. Not even Lando and Daniel.

Max looked around. He could see the two of them sitting on one end of the couch, snickering at each other. They got some weird looks from Pierre and Carlos sitting next to them, clearly not following what was happening. It was probably nothing good anyway. Charles was currently on stage with his mum, singing a strangely not-really-weirder-than-normal version of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’, which was a feat considering that it was already a pretty weird song to begin with.

In any case it could not get weirder than Daniel and Lando’s rendition of ‘Santa Baby’ they had all witnessed an hour ago. Max had had the strong urge to cover his sister’s eyes, because whatever that was, it was not something he wanted her to have to sit through. Charles had apparently not been as strong as him, because when Max had looked over during a particularly disturbing part (involving a lot more thrusts and voice lilting than ever necessary) his boyfriend had been trying to shield Arthur from the sight, Lorenzo laughing hysterically next to him.

That had fortunately been the last time his two friends had been allowed to sing together. Every time they had made to get up after, someone else had managed to get one of them to agree to sing something harmless with them.

So al things considered, the evening was going great. Max had even gotten up on stage himself - although not alone. Never alone.

It had become a small tradition, that Charles and Max would each choose a song for them to sing together. That way, they both had some element of surprise to their performance. This year Charles had chosen ‘Let it Snow’, traditional yet romantic, while Max had gone for something a little more up to date. He kind of felt bad for Lando and Daniel, seeing as the grand plan they were working on, would never see the light of day, so he had chosen ‘Mistletoe’. It was worth it just for the look on everyone’s faces when the opening began playing, but had been surprisingly fun as well.

However now he did not feel as confident as he had then.

So as Charles and his mum finished their song and everyone applauded, Max got even more nervous. He knew this was it. The moment. The opportunity to go up there and just. Do it.

Somehow his body had gotten the message before his brain did, because by some miracle Max ended up on the stage, in front of the computer, typing in the song he was going to sing.

He was going to do it.

In his haze, Max had not noticed that, while he climbed up the small steps, the room had fallen eerily silent. Everyone was sitting on the couch expectantly looking at the stage. He only realized that all the attention was on him, when he turned around.

And froze.

Max looked at the crowd. Took in his mother, his sister, Charles’ mum and brothers, all with a slight look of confusion in their eyes. He decidedly did not look at Daniel and Lando. And then his eyes fell on Charles and his nervousness evaporated.

Because Charles just smiled at him.

It wasn’t a knowing smile. He definitely had no idea what was going to happen. But it was a reassuring one. The one that always made Max feel ready to face any and all challenges thrown his way. That made everyone else in the room disappear. So without breaking eye contact, he smiled back and pressed play.

The opening melodies of ‘Perfect Christmas’ by S Club 7 started playing. The background singers soft ‘do-do-do’ filling the room. Max took up the microphone.

“Hey everyone.”, he greeted, waving a little awkwardly. “You’re probably wondering what the hell I am doing up here. And alone at that. I’d just like to take the opportunity to say something.” A pause. “And also sing.” Multiple people chuckled. Charles was still looking expectantly at him.

“Charles.”, Max began again and understanding dawned in his boyfriends widening eyes. “I have thought a lot about what I want to say up here. What I want to say to you. And you know me, I’m not particularly good with words.” Max rubbed his neck and his boyfriend chuckled. “But I love you and I want this to be perfect for you. So Lando suggested I could just...borrow someone else's.” Max’s eyes flitted to his friend, who gave him a smile and a wink. “So that’s what I’m gonna try to do now.”, he continued, “Not every part of this song works, so I’m gonna try to just...riff it? But in the end I hope you’ll know what I’m trying to say.”

With his last words the second chorus hit and Max tried to make his voice sound as even as possible as he sang, however crookedly: “The perfect ending to a wonderful year. Would be to celebrate the good times with you here. 'Cause I know for sure, I never wanted anything more. “

He tried a little shuffle from one side to another. Charles’ eyes following his every move.

“The greatest gift that there could be. Wrapped underneath my Christmas tree. Would be the same my whole life through. I'd spend the perfect Christmas with you. Though the winter seems so long. My faith in love has kept me strong. So if I had a wish come true. I'd spend the perfect Christmas with you.” At the last words he took the ring box out of his pocket, got down on one knee and opened it.

“Charles Leclerc, will you marry me?”, he asked, voice wavering just the tiniest bit.

But his worries were unfounded, because Charles, who had already leapt from his place on the couch when Max got the box out, now practically ran to the stage. His eyes were welling up with tears. When he got to Max, standing on eye level with him kneeling on the platform, he threw his arms around Max’s neck while giving him an enthusiastic “Yes! Yes! Oh god yes!”

The whole room erupted into applause, but Max could only concentrate on Charles in front of him, his fiancé. Slipping the ring onto Charles’ finger, then his hands cupping Max’s cheeks and their lips connecting in the most wonderful kiss they had ever shared, Max was so relieved. Relieved he had done it, but also relieved Charles had said yes. He’d had no real doubt he wouldn’t but there was always a sliver of a chance.

They broke apart, resting their foreheads together and looking deeply into each others eyes. “I love you, cheri.”, Charles whispered. “I love you too, Schatje.”, Max whispered back. “And I’ll never stop.” Charles huffed a wet laugh at that. “Me neither. I promise.”, he said. They smiled at each other for a second longer, before being pulled apart and into the embraces of their friends and family.

After a lot of bone-crushing hugs from their mothers and siblings, Max came face to face with his two immensely disappointed flash-mob-proposal planners. He could tell they were going for the full guilt trip, but Max could also see the genuine excitement in Lando’s eyes and the way Daniel’s lips would barely stay in the frown he was trying to put on. After just blankly staring at each other for a few seconds all three of them burst into laughter. Then Max got a hug from both of them as well.

“Mate why didn’t you say anything sooner? We would’ve totally helped you.” Daniel said. Lando just rolled his eyes. “I think you know exactly why he didn’t ask us again. We went a bit overboard didn’t we?”, he asked, looking a bit sheepish. Max just laughed again. “It’s fine, you did help me a lot. So thank you.”, he said and hoped they knew how much he meant it. “But let’s just shelf the flash-mob idea for one of your proposals.” All three of them grinned at each other.

The evening didn’t end there, but Max’s performance remained the last thing to happen on the stage. No one wanted to follow that. So they sat and talked, simply enjoyed each others company. Just like Christmas was supposed to be.

While Charles, as always, seemed to entertain the whole party, Max sat back and let himself revel in the fuzzy feelings he found himself full of. He didn’t think he had ever enjoyed something Christmas-related this much. But as so often before, Charles had somehow found a way to bring Max out of his shell and get him excited about something he had lost faith in a long time ago.

Looking at Charles now, enthusiastically talking about an encounter with a childhood friend he’d had at the grocery store last week, Max couldn’t help but smile. Charles was his fiancé. His fiancé. The man he was going to marry. How did he get so lucky?

Then another thought struck him.

What if Charles wanted them to write their own vows?

#repost because of shadow ban #lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen fluff #established lestappen #lestappen fanfiction #lestappen crack #fluff and crack #crack treated seriously #attempt at humor #christmas fluff #christmas fic #mia screams into the void but in a different direction #mia throws writing into the void