#when i get a bigger place there will be display cases and fancy lighting

[askblacklin]

Lyra: New Plans

   Running into her sister had been the best thing that'd happened to Lyra all day. Her sister's words had done wonders to calm her heart down and cool her emotions. A pang of embarrassment briefly shot through her. She never should have let herself get so worked up over seeing Spike eat those gems. Of course Blacklin wouldn't have realized what they were for when she never approached him.

     Minuette had been right, of course. She usually was. Ever since they were fillies, Minuette had been the calmer of the two. Which was surprising given how excitable she could get with her friends. Even the wildest of personalities can have their serious sides she figured though.

     It was silly of her to think that a simple little gem would be enough to get Blacklin's attention. What was he going to do with them? Exactly what he had done. That or pass them off to Rarity.

 It was the same with flowers. Roseluck was his alpha, he could get all the flowers he ever wanted from her! No, she needed to do something different. Something beyond tradition. This was a unique case after all.

   No, what she would need to do was something bigger. Something even more personal. Not just to her, but to him as well. Something that really showed what lengths she was willing to go in order to be a part of his herd.

     The question that was left then was "what?" What could possibly be found that would do that? Well, the only place she'd find that answer was the library of course. She just hoped that it was Twilight who would be in. While she had nothing against Wind Whistler, she truly didn't want to deal with that annoying know-it-all other mare.

     She slowed herself to a steady trot. As much as she wanted to rush, to do things immediately, she couldn't. Shouldn't. Rushing just lead to rash decisions and things she would regret. That was something she didn't want to have happen twice in one day.

   Despite herself, her mind did end up drifting towards the possibilities. Ancient relics , unfound gems of great power, fancy jeweled wing decorations! As long as it showed her dedication, that's what was important, right? He'd recognize that effort and accept her, right?

   She paused, stumbling briefly. Her heart sinking as her mind casted itself back to not twenty minutes prior. Accept her. Would he? Should he. After what she had done. What she had said. She'd be lucky if he even wanted to talk to her again after that display.

    She slammed a hoof down and shook her head. No. That was exactly why she had to go big. This wasn't just about courtship. Not anymore. This was about apologizing to him. That is why she wanted acceptance. That is why this had become so important to her.

    Resolve restored, heart calmed, she took note of her surroundings finally. Lost in her thoughts as she had been, the mare hadn't realized that she'd already reached her destination: Golden Oaks Library. Surely Twilight would know of something that was exactly what Lyra needed. The know-it-all, well, knew it all. She could magic something up that other unicorns could only dream of.

   She pushed open the door and called out for Twilight as loud as she could.

   "TWILIGHT! WHERE ARE YOU?! I NEED YOUR HELP WITH SOMETHING!"

     There was no answer. Lyra frowned as looked around. This wasn't normal. Twilight was always around. It just was how it was.

   "Twi? For the love of Celestia, where are you?"

     She took a few steps farther in and looked around once more. Once more, she was about to call out when the mare found herself interrupted.

   "Twilight isn't here at the moment." The cultured and smooth female voice caught Lyra off guard and she stumbled back a few steps almost falling on her rear. A quick glance revealed a familiar light blue pegasus with pink mane and tail coming down the stairs.

     "She's currently out on a date and asked not to be disturbed at all," the pegasus continued. "And please stop yelling. Bright Eyes and Scootaloo are downstairs studying currently, Miss Heartstrings."

   Lyra blushed lightly and looked down. "Oh, Wind Whistler, I'm sorry." She gave a nervous chuckle and sighed. The one time she had really needed Twilight and she wasn't around. Fate must have really been having a laugh at her expense today. Her friend off on a-

   "Wait, did you say date?" Her head jerked up and she stared at Whistler in sudden shock. "Who is she-" No, wait. That wasn't important. As curious as she was, delving into Twilight's love life was not the purpose of her visit. That was something she could wait on. Now was the time to focus on herself.

   "No, never mind," she waves the previous train of thought away with a hoof, moving on. "Okay, she's not here. Fine. Maybe you can help me then."

   Whistler raised a brow, a very subtle hint of a smile playing on the pegasus' lips. Still, she remained quiet, simply encouraging Lyra to continue on with a silent nod of her head.

    Lyra nodded back and took a breath. "Do you know of any kind of gems or gem related things that are specific to the Griffon Kingdom? Like, relics or something. Important gem types and things like that."

   "That is quite the question, Miss Heartstrings," the pegasus commented, brow raising once more as her head tilted slightly.

   The unicorn mare gave a nervous chuckle, cheeks flushing once more. That had to sound beyond odd and probably pretty suspicious. She just really didn't want to have to explain herself, not now.

   "Okay, yeah, I know that sounds really weird. I promise I have a really good reason for asking though! I just, y'know, don't wanna go into why. It's really embarrassing and long, okay?"

   The silence that followed her comment caused Lyra to begin pacing in place. Her heart starting to speed up once more as anxiety crept up on her. Whistler was going to press the topic, she knew it and wouldn't blame her for it. If someone had pressed her with that same question, she'd do the same. She would have to. She just hoped that she was wrong. Worry filled her eyes as she bit her lower lip and watched the pegasus.

   Whistler closed her eyes. A deep breath was taken and slowly released. Slowly she opened her eyes and turned towards the shelves, looking over them. Lyra found herself releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her head tilted slightly as she watched the pegasus walk over slowly to a far shelf. Her hoof hovering over the spines before taking a book and tucking it in her wing.

   The other mare looked back towards Lyra and motioned for Lyra to join her as she moved to a podium, setting the book she'd taken and setting it down.

   "You are in luck, Miss Heartstrings," Whistler says as she opened the book. "We had recently gotten a few books on the history of the border towns not long ago thanks to the efforts of our newest town residents. Miss Gilda was insistent we carried books on them."

   Lyra tilted her head as she watched Wind Whistler flip through the pages. The pegasus soon stopped and pointed to the page she ended on. Curious, the unicorn mare stepped next to her and looked at the book. Her eyes grew wide at what she saw.

  Perfection wasn't the word she would use, but it was certainly close. The book depicted a statue of a gryphon made of gold embracing a unicorn made of silver. Both were encrusted with topaz, amethyst and sapphires. The gryphon's eyes made of emerald and the unicorn's made of ruby.

   "It's called The Divine Lovers," Whistler says. "And according to legend, it was created as a gift to the first governor of Shetlearn nearly a thousand years ago. It's said to bring it's owner prosperity and true love."

   She looks at Lyra, giving the unicorn a concerned look. "Though I must remind you that this is just a legend. It's very existence is something that has been debated for decades. And no one even knows if this is what it even looks like."

   Lyra couldn't take her eyes off the image. It was exactly what she had been looking for. Though something about the location made her tilt her head a bit in confusion.

     "It's supposed to be in Shetlearn?" She asked. "Why does that sound familiar?"

   "If you will recall, that is where Blacklin had gone when he took his sabbatical a year ago," Whistler stated. "Though, I should say that today's Shetlearn is far different from the one referenced in that book. Old Shetlearn is what it's called now. A few miles on the outskirts of town on the Griffon Kingdom side. If it's anywhere, it'd be in those ruins."

   "Right, right." Lyra was barely paying attention at that point. Her mind going over what she remembered of Blacklin's return. He said he had come straight from where he'd gone to Canterlot via train and then back to Ponyville. If that was the case, it would be simple to retrace that exact trip back. Though, would she be able to get a ticket to Shetlearn from Ponyville? No, more than likely she'd have to go to Canterlot first and then get a ticket to Shetlearn from there.

     A sigh and a wry smile came to her. How she wished she had wings. It'd make a trip like that so much easier. No need to worry about train tickets or schedules. Just take to the air fly directly there, resting on clouds when needed.

     She shook her head and gave Whistler a tight hug, smiling genuinely for the first time all day. "Thank you, Wind Whistler. This is a great help. Even if that thing doesn't exist, I'm sure I'll find exactly what I need there. I need to go pack now!"

     Still smiling, she let the pegasus go and hurried off. Plans needed to be made and ponies informed of them. She might be in a hurry, but she wasn't like the object of her affection. There would be no running off without informing others. Minuette and Bon Bon especially needed to know. They'd be the ones to worry most about her, after all. They'd also be able to inform her other friends quickly as well.

   For the first time since that morning, her heart felt light. Things were looking up.

#Lyra's Resolve #Lyra Heartstrings #Wind Whistler #Story

[lucyllawless]

Updated Nerd Cave™️ photos

#my camera battery was dead so phone pics will have to do #this is pretty much it’s final form #when i get a bigger place there will be display cases and fancy lighting #and another shelf for books bc they’re all kinda crammed on there #i’m reminded i need to get my melanie autograph framed #and more art #bookshelves #movie room #shelfie #tv #movies #bedroom #nerd cave #library #funkos #long post

[love-and-monsters]

Necklace for a Dragon

M dragon X GN reader, 5,975 words

A dragon commissions a necklace for his deceased mother, but he is reluctant to open up about her death. Can you help him work through his grief?

The thin, delicate chain in your fingers clinked quietly as you worked on it. The magnifying glasses perched on your nose enabled you to carefully manipulate the tiny gemstones into place. It was a nice piece, you thought. The white and pale yellow gems set against the deep platinum gave the impression of tiny stars in a night sky.

Your gaze flicked up as you worked. It was a habit from before you’d gotten the bell installed on your door to let you know if a customer had entered, so your gaze moved back to your work before you’d really processed anything you’d seen.

Then your brain caught up with your eyes and your head snapped back up.

There was a man standing in the middle of your store. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a fairy tale. His look was oddly monochrome- he had pale skin, white-blonde hair that curled around his ear and under his chin. Silvery antlers pulled back from his head and a shimmering scaled tail tufted with fur coiled and twitched behind him. His clothes were unreasonably fancy and not at all modern- his shirt was ruffled and he wore a heavy, furred cloak around his shoulders. Gems fairly dripped from his horns and the upper curve of his ears.

The little bell hadn’t even rung to announce his entrance. It was as if he had simply appeared in the room.

“Hello,” you said, whipping your glasses off and staring at him. “Can I help you with something?”

He regarded you with ice-blue eyes. His expression was utterly neutral. “I am looking for jewelry.”

Okay. Good start. Your eyes swept over his frame, assessing him as a customer. He was unfamiliar, but given his mannerisms and the general look of his clothes, he was wealthy. That was good- most of the pieces in your store weren’t made by you. There wasn’t enough of a market to buy your handmade pieces in most cases, which were priced high enough to drive away most typical buyers, and those who were rich enough to afford the splurge were few and far between. Most of the jewelry on the shelves was cheaper, more mass-produced pieces. It wasn’t exactly something you were proud of, but it kept the roof over your head.

He wasn’t looking at any of those pieces, though. He had beelined right for the well-lit display case that showed all your custom jewelry. You slipped out from behind the counter and hurried over to him. “See anything you like?”

His gaze swept over the case. “I am not sure.”

“Well, I also take commissions, so if you want a specific design, I can do that for you,” you said eagerly. Commissions were uncommon, but very much appreciated. You could charge a little more for them and you didn’t have to account for the shelf time.

The man turned toward you. His gaze locked with yours and a chill slipped down your spine. Holy shit. With a sudden clenching in the pit of your stomach, you knew that this wasn’t an ordinary monster of Fortune Falls. This was one of the Old Ones.

The Old Ones were not necessarily old individuals, though, even though the one in front of you appeared to be in his twenties, he could be ancient. It was their species that were old, though, ones that had existed before civilization and kept to those old ways. They radiated powerful magic and rarely interacted with humans at all. Even other monsters were uncomfortable around them.

You had only seen one once before, an ancient golden dragon. You steeled your will. A customer was a customer. Even if Old Ones had an irritating habit of paying in extremely outdated currency- you would be lucky if he paid with something from the modern millennium.

“A specific design,” the man repeated, drawing you out of your daze. You nodded attentively.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” you said. The man exhaled slowly. He had the expression of someone unused to interacting with others- he didn’t seem to be holding a stern expression because he actually felt stern, but more because he had completely forgotten you were supposed to change your expression to let others know what you were feeling. “Maybe you could tell me what the jewelry is for and I can give you some suggestions.”

The man turned back to the display case. “It is for a funeral.”

“Oh,” you said. “For, ah. For you or for the, erm. Deceased?” It was not the first time someone had come to your shop looking for jewelry to bury someone in.

“Deceased.” There was no emotion in the man’s voice, but it was not the lack of emotion of the passionless. It was the sound of someone who had been exercising their emotions so much they didn’t have anything left to give. Pity stirred in your chest.

“Well, I’m sure we can find you something nice,” you said. “There are a lot of nice pieces here.” You gestured broadly at the wall of jewelry. The man peered at the necklaces lining the bottom row. His tail weaved back and forth, flowing like a river.

After a moment, he shook his head. His curls swayed, brushing against his chin and over the tips of his ears. “No,” he said. “Something else.”

You froze, waiting for his next move. Instead of turning toward the door, he turned toward you. You let out a sigh of relief. “Would you like something made specifically for you, sir?”

He lowered his chin in the slightest of nods. A faint flicker of bitterness invaded your mind before you shoved it away; the idea that you were going to make something that was going to have exactly one showing before it was being shoved underground wasn’t something you were overly pleased about. Then again, plenty of the extremely rich had pieces of jewelry made for them only to cram it into a closet after one night out. This was a little more important than that, wasn’t it?

“It would need to be elaborate,” he said. “Something worthy of my mother.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. “I can sketch up a few designs overnight and you can come back tomorrow to look at them. We can work from there.”

The man’s head dipped in a slow nod. “I will see you then.” Not waiting for any response, he whirled, cape swirling around him, and headed out the door.

The bell still didn’t ring. You glared at it until the man left, then pulled out your stepladder and went to check on it. When you tapped it, it jingled merrily. Hm. Weird. You moved the ladder away and experimentally swung the door open and closed. The bell rang every time. Okay. Really weird. But you had more important things to do.

You placed the stepladder away again and sat behind the front counter. There was a sketchpad situated under the desk for situations such as this. Usually, you had a little more idea what the customer wanted. You kicked yourself for not asking any more questions. He had left before you could get some clarification. You sketched out a few designs, most of them similar to ones you already had on the shelf. They were pretty, of course- all your jewelry was nice, and it tended to be difficult to make shiny things look that bad. But they almost certainly weren’t what your client wanted.

Night fell. You closed up your shop, but stayed in the back, eating takeout. You had an apartment, but it was barely bigger than your shop and you spent so much time here that you’d just moved a couch and some blankets into the back room, just in case you wanted to crash for the night. Really, the only practical use your apartment had was that it had a shower you could be sure no one else was using. Given your cooking skills, it was probably safer if you didn’t have access to a kitchen.

You sketched on the pad late into the night, growing more and more frustrated the longer you tried. Nothing seemed to be coming out right, and the things that looked kind of good were too reminiscent of stuff you’d already made.

Grimacing, you rolled your stiff neck and shifted your position. One of your legs was starting to fall asleep. Maybe you should just go to bed. Your mind wasn’t getting any clearer the later you stayed up, and maybe you would get an idea in your dreams. It wasn’t common, but it was better than just sitting around and waiting for inspiration to strike.

You leaned your head back, eyes closing for a moment. The image of the man swam back to your mind. He had been rather beautiful. The silvery sheen of his tail had been almost mesmerizing. It reminded you of sunlight gleaming off flowing water, or maybe oozing mercury. And his multi-pointed horns, glittering with gems had been striking as well.

Inspiration slammed into your mind like a lightning bolt. A sizzling, frenetic energy jumped through your veins. The idea seized you with a frightening ferocity. You had felt this before, the few times when an idea had seized you with a creative fervor. There was no way you were going to be sleeping now. Instead, you scrambled for another piece of paper. You needed to get this down before the idea faded.

It took you well over an hour of sketching, erasing, and fine-tuning before you’d worked the design into something you were happy with. Once it was done, you collapsed into bed, not even bothering to change your clothes. Sleep swept over you in an immediate wave.

You woke late enough that you barely had time to throw on another set of clothes and snag a granola bar before you had to open the shop. Fortunately, the design you’d made the night before still looked good in the morning light. The amount of times you’d written something in a sleep-hazed frenzy only to wake up and discover that it was absolute garbage was uncomfortable to even think about.

Despite your somewhat unkempt appearance and your tiredness, you still managed to make a couple sales. One of them was an engagement ring, one of your own designs, which had you feeling quite proud for the rest of the day. You added a few finishing touches to your sketches with a flush of enthusiasm. The day was nearly over, but the man hadn’t showed up again.

Someone cleared their throat right in front of you. You startled, knocking over a stack of coins and watched as they rolled under your counter. “Dammit.” Grimacing, you looked up.

The man was standing over you. He watched as one of the coins rolled in a neat circle next to his foot and fell over. “You should pay more attention,” he said. He stooped and picked the coin up, placing it delicately on the counter. “It is bad customer service to leave a customer waiting.”

“There’s supposed to be a bell,” you muttered under your breath. If he heard you, the comment didn’t bother him. He watched as you scrambled to pick up the few coins you could see. You could get the ones under the desk later; it wouldn’t do to go crawling around on your hands and knees in front of an important customer.

“I have the sketches,” you said. “There’s a little area we can sit in over here.” You led him over to the small alcove, separated from the rest of the shop by curtains. It was basically just a table in an area that would give the two of you a little privacy. Not that it was terribly necessary- there wasn’t anyone in the shop. But it was nice.

The man swept over to the table and paused. You looked where he was looking and paused. There were two chairs at the table and both of them had tall backs that left no space for a tail. “I might have a stool somewhere,” you said. “Hold on.”

The man lifted his hand, revealing long, elegantly manicured fingernails. “No need. I will be fine.” He sat a little awkwardly, tail curling across his lap. You hesitated for a moment, then sat across from him.

“So, I have a few sketches that I wanted to show you,” you said, spreading them across the table. The man reached out and picked up a few of them, looking over them with a critical eye. His expression was utterly emotionless. You swallowed uncomfortably. It was always weird to have someone looking at your art right in front of you.

Each drawing was examined and he placed it on the table in front of you. The stack of rejected drawing kept getting higher. The back of your neck tickled with sweat. Was he going to like any of them?

He reached the bottom of the pile and paused. Right. Your final drawing. You sucked on your lower lip. His expression was still unreadable. Finally, he placed the drawing on the table in front of you. “This one,” he said in a soft voice, tapping a finger in the center of the drawing.

It was the design you’d based off his antlers. You nodded, sweeping it back off the table. “Great. So, next we’ll need to pick the base metal color. I’ve got a few of them. There’s silver, gold, platinum…” You spread the sample metals across the table in front of them. His gaze swept over them for a moment, then he tapped the platinum band. “Okay. Good. Are there any specific colors you want in it? I’ll try to match the colors as well as I can, and you’ll get approval at all stages.”

The man sat back in his seat. For the first time, you saw a flicker of discomfort cross his face. “Blue,” he said after a moment.

You noted the color down on your pad and gathered your drawings back together. “Great. That should look nice.” You glanced into his face. His expression was still fairly emotionless, but you thought you were getting better at seeing the subtle tension on his face that indicated changes in expression. There was a tension around his eyes and a tightness around his lips that made him look tired. The sort of blank, weary tiredness of someone who was struggling to keep going. “Um. When do you need this by?”

“Four days from now,” he said. “Is that acceptable?”

“It’ll be a rush job,” you said automatically, then cringed. That felt insensitive. The weariness in his face grew a little more present as he bowed his head in a small nod.

“That will be extra?” he said. He started to reach for his pocket, but you waved your hands hurriedly.

“Uh, no, no. It’ll be fine. No extra charge.” It was probably a bad decision. There was a reason you charged extra for rush orders. But he looked exhausted and if it was for a funeral, he was likely going through a lot. It felt wrong to add onto that.

The man stared at you for a moment. He said nothing, but there was gratitude in his expression. “How much do I owe you?”

You told him the price. He reached into his pocket for a moment, then extracted several bills. You held your breath as he handed them over. Bills was a good sign. You’d once been paid exclusively in heavy gold coins and it had been impossible to find a bank that would exchange them for actual currency.

After a moment, in which you were able to reassure yourself that yes, the bills were all modern, you tucked the money into your pocket. “The rest I’ll want upon delivery,” you said. “This is just an advance.” The man nodded. “Also, I’ll need your name.”

“Solomon,” he said. He gave no last name. You didn’t bother to ask for one.

“Then I’ll see you in a few days for pickup.” You smiled at him. He gave a small bow and swept back out the door.

As it turned out, you saw him much sooner than that. You closed the shop slightly early and started heading back home. It wasn’t the best idea, to take a full night off when you had a rush order you needed to complete, but you were starting to feel a little gross. It was time to get some food that was slightly better than takeout.

The air was chilly and it was drizzling as you walked across the street and headed toward your apartment building. Then you came to a stop, squinting at the man standing in a tiny alcove of trees. His clothes were ostentatious and he looked more than a little out of place, like a prince crouching in a stable. His head was tilted back, staring up at the rain dribbling from the sky. It trailed in little rivulets down his sharp features.

“Solomon?” you said before you could think better of it. He lowered his head and turned to face you. His expression was solemn, but there was a new level of exhaustion in it. It looked more like he was too tired to make any expressions other than weariness.

He nodded to you. “Hello.”

You paused, a little awkward. He didn’t seem overly keen to talk, but he wasn’t exactly moving away from you either. “What are you still doing here?”

Solomon closed his eyes and swayed unsteadily. Automatically, you darted forward to try to catch him. At the same moment, he stuck a hand out to prop himself up on a nearby tree. You collided, his hand fumbling awkwardly through the air until it came to a rest on your shoulder. There was a moment of stumbling as you adjusted to his weight. He was heavier than he looked. His tail wrapped around one of your legs as he struggled to catch himself again.

After a few moments of fumbling, the pair of you managed to find a balance. His weight pressed down on you, leaving you panting with the effort of holding him upright. “Are you okay?” you managed.

Solomon’s chest expanded against you as he took in a deep breath. One of his hands pressed against a tree trunk and he slowly lifted himself back up. “I’m all right,” he said. His eyes closed, but this time, he didn’t sway dangerously. He just let out a deep sigh.

You slid away from him, relieved to have his weight off your back. “Are you sure?” You hesitated for a moment, debating the pros and cons, then kept talking. “Do you… do you need some help?” The words came out of you slowly. You didn’t have a lot of experience trying to give other people your assistance; you were solitary by nature and rarely gave or asked for help.

Solomon closed his eyes for a moment. His long, snow-white lashes nearly touched his cheekbones. “I am just tired. I have not been home in some time.” There was a terrible weariness in his voice, like each word was a struggle to get out of his mouth.

“Do you need help getting there?” you said. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you could actually help him get home. Didn’t most of the Old Ones live in the mountains? You didn’t even have a car.

“No,” he said. “I…” He hesitated, then ducked his head a little, looking intently at the ground at his feet. “I have not been home because I do not want to go back.”

The awkward silence grew thicker. You cleared your throat. “Er. Is it because of your mom, or…?”

His lips curled up to show the slightest flicker of fang. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “Er.” A suggestion floated across your mind. “You could come to my apartment for a bit. You look tired.” The instant the idea left your lips, you felt stupid. You were tired too, and you didn’t really feel up to entertaining a stranger, much less an Old One who likely had never been in an apartment building. On the other hand, leaving him alone on the street felt gross too. Well, he probably wouldn’t take you up on the offer anyway-

“I would appreciate that,” he said. “After you.” He gestured to the sidewalk in front of you.

Well. Okay. This was happening. You walked ahead of him, trying frantically to remember the last time you’d vacuumed. Had it been last weekend? Hard to say. It honestly kept slipping your mind. Oh, god, when had you last dusted? Did Old Ones care about stuff like that?

In no time at all, you were at the front door to your building. You fumbled with your keys for a moment before your door clicked open. Solomon stepped into your building with an expression of mild curiosity.

There was nothing fancy about the lobby to your building. There was a threadbare rug and a slightly shoddy desk in a corner. The doorman, a medusa with massive snakes coiling around his head, looked up. His eyes fell on Solomon sweeping in behind you and he raised is scaled brows. You mouthed ‘tell you later’ and headed for the elevator.

Solomon looked momentarily confused when you gestured for him to follow you inside, but he stepped in regardless. You tapped your floor button and the elevator doors slid shut.

You were already braced for the weird jolt that happened every time the elevator started, but you’d completely forgotten that Solomon wasn’t. He seized your elbow as the floor juddered under your feet. His expression was smooth, but his grip on your arm was tight.

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s just an elevator.” You couldn’t tell if he understood what an elevator was, but your lack of concern seemed to appease him. His grip on your elbow loosened, though he didn’t remove his hand.

Solomon brushed past you to get off the elevator once it stopped, giving it a suspicious look over his shoulder. You bit your tongue. Do not laugh at the powerful monster. Even if he is looking at the elevator like it might jump at him.

You jostled the lock a few times before your door swung open. Solomon was tall enough to just look over your shoulder into your fairly tiny apartment. It only had a couple of rooms, and both of them could be charitably described as cozy. You scrambled to grab a few of the carelessly-tossed bits of packaging that hadn’t yet made their way to the garbage can and pushed them out of sight. You had definitely forgotten to dust for a while; Solomon picked up one of your books, then hurriedly ducked his head into his elbow to sneeze.

“Sorry. I don’t come here all that often,” you said. Solomon sniffed and put the book back down.

“I have never been inside a human dwelling before. Are they all so…” He trailed off, looking around the room. “So compact?”

“They’re not if you have more money,” you said. “Um. I can get you something to eat or drink? Or get you something to make you more comfortable? You can sit, if you want.”

Solomon scanned the room and his eyes fell on the small, but fairly cushy, couch. He approached it slowly, then, after testing the cushions with a hand, sat down.

It was strange to see him seated on your overly-plush couch. The heavy fur ruff of his cloak and the fine regality of his face were at odds with the barely maintained shabbiness of your apartment. It was like looking at a historical reenactor on break. It just looked off.

“So, uh,” you said, fumbling for something to do with your hands. “How are you doing?”

It was a dumb question, but you were having trouble coming up with things to say. Solomon looked at you. There was something glassy in his expression. You paused in your aimless fidgeting.

“I am…” The words seemed to take considerable effort. He closed his eyes and swayed. You placed the mug you’d grabbed on the counter, fully prepared to lunge for him if he showed signs of fainting.

Fortunately, he only swayed for a moment before his eyes opened again and he slumped back into your cushions. “I have had a long few days,” he said.

“Yeah?” You picked the mug back up and slid it into your coffee maker. You had no idea if he would like it, but you felt like you needed some. “Do you, uh, want to talk about it?”

He gave you a stony look. “Do you know who I am?”

It was such an unbelievably douchey question spoken with such earnestness that you snorted. “No. Not really. You haven’t told me much.”

“I am the Lord Solomon, ruler of the lands from the town to the eastward river,” he said. The words were grand, but his tone was bored. “My mother’s death places me at the top of the line of succession. There had been an enormous amount of political posturing.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process what he was saying. “I wasn’t aware this area had a lord.”

“It may be a bit above mortal understanding,” Solomon said. “We operate outside mortal laws, and our ownership of the land does not fall in line with your understanding.” He flexed his fingers and clenched them into fists repeatedly. His tail twitched back and forth. “Indeed, these past couple of weeks have been stressful.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you said honestly. You picked up your mug, now filled with steaming coffee, and walked over to the couch. He looked up at you as you sat next to him. His eyes flicked toward the mug and you saw him sniff the air curiously. “It’s coffee,” you said. “Do you want some?”

“Yes,” he said. “I know what coffee is.” Your hand was already sort of extended toward him, so he easily reached out and took it from you. Before you could do anything other than stare in surprise, he had tilted it up to his mouth and drained it in a few quick gulps. “Thank you.”

There was one of the Old Ones sitting on your couch and he had just stolen your coffee. Presumably, it would be a very bad idea to yell at him, but you still kind of wanted to. “Okay,” you said in a barely-restrained voice, “Cool. I guess I did offer.”

Solomon caught the irritation in your tone. “I am truly grateful for your assistance. I will admit that I was unwilling to return home.”

“It probably feels weird that she’d not there anymore, right?” you said. Solomon looked at you for a moment, then gave a tiny, hesitant nod. “I know how that feels.” You paused, swallowing hard. “I lost my dad five years ago now. It was rough. I can’t imagine having to deal with lordship on top of all that.”

Solomon kept looking at you with wide eyes. He didn’t seem to believe that you, a lowly mortal human, could comprehend his feelings. You decided to wait until he was feeling better to be insulted by that. “I am sorry for your loss,” he finally said, sounding a little more robotic than sincere. You decided he probably didn’t get out much.

“It’s okay. It was a while ago.” You leaned back on the couch. “You want to talk about it?”

Solomon kept staring at you. “Talk about it?”

“You know. Say all the stuff you’re feeling. It might help,” you said. He kept looking at you. The concept seemed entirely foreign to him. “Um. Like. How are you feeling right now?”

He looked at you for a long, uncertain moment. “Tired,” he finally said. “I am tired. Of trying to manage land squabbles. Of trying to plan my mother’s funeral. From dealing with all the new responsibilities my position entails.” He rubbed his forehead. “And I miss her. I miss being able to see her. I miss being able to speak with her about her responsibilities. I miss hunting with her.” His voice choked and he made a gulping noise that seemed to surprise him. you reached out and tentatively patted his shoulder.

“I know. It’ll get better. But it’s gonna hurt for a long while,” I said. “It’s gonna be hard.” Solomon gave an absent nod, looking down at his cup. “You know, there’s a grief counseling support group in town. If you want to go to it sometimes, I can take you there. I go there still, when it’s bad.”

Solomon looked blank. “A support group?”

“It’s a group of people who all lost someone important to them who get together and talk about their feelings. And they all help each other. You can learn a lot about dealing with grief from going. And sometimes hearing about other people’s problems can make it easier to deal with your own.” Solomon blinked a few times. His eyes were abruptly watery and you realized you weren’t entirely sure how to deal with him suddenly breaking into tears in your living room. You patted his shoulder awkwardly. “It might help? I think? I know you’re not like most of us, but it could still be good. I don’t think grief is all that different across species.”

He inhaled slowly. There was a little tremble in it, like he was still dangerously close to crying. “I think I would like that,” he said. His voice was quiet, but firm.

“Okay,” you said. “It meets Wednesdays.” You paused. “Do you know what Wednesdays are?”

He snorted. “I have a concept of human time.”

“Oh,” you said. “Okay. Good.” You sat in silence for a few more moments. There was still tiredness in the set of Solomon’s shoulders, but he looked more at peace than he had a few moments ago.

Eventually, he got to his feet. “I should return home,” he said. “I will see you again.” He paused. “And thank you.”

“No problem.” You stood up and started to lead him toward the door. “We support each other, you know?” He nodded.

You stayed up for a while after he left your apartment. It felt strange, that such a conversation had taken place between you and an Old One. They seemed so ancient and remote, and yet you had just had a conversation with one on the loss of a parent. And he had seemed utterly normal.

Odd. Not unpleasant, just… odd.

Your shop was quiet the next day, so you spent much of it working on the commission. Your thoughts were occupied with Solomon. How something so powerful had managed to look so vulnerable- it stuck with you.

Solomon didn’t show up for the next few days, which gave you some time to finish the necklace. It was good work, in your opinion, sturdy and beautiful. The long, antler-like branches were designed to rest on the clavicles and twist up the throat.

The necklace was done in time for the meeting on Wednesday, so you packed it into a box and took it with you to your apartment. You usually brought some sort of food with you to the meetings. It seemed polite, and people usually enjoyed it.

When you emerged from your apartment, Solomon was standing there. He was still wearing his heavy robes, with the thick fur ruff, and it was attracting a lot of stares. He didn’t seem to notice it. His eyes locked onto you as soon as you emerged from the building.

“Hello,” he said. “We are still going together, yes?” Despite his serious expression, there was a note of hesitancy in his voice.

“Yeah, we are,” you said. “Come on. I’ll show you the way there.”

It was a cozy little building that the meetings took place in. There were only four other people in the group, and they all stared at Solomon when he walked in. You gave an awkward wave. “Hey. Uh, this is Solomon. We met, uh, recently, and he wanted to come to the meeting.”

The man who led the group, a bulky and intimidating werewolf, locked eyes with you. His confusion and shock were blatantly written across his face. You tried to communicate your own surprise and bewilderment at the situation, but it was difficult when his eyes kept going back to Solomon. Thankfully, the Old One didn’t seem to have noticed. He just crossed the room and took one of the seats.

The meeting went as usual, except for everyone’s glances at Solomon. If he was bothered by their constant staring, he didn’t show it. You occasionally reached out to pat his hand or his leg. Everyone stared when you did that, like you were casually touching the sun itself. He didn’t speak much, except to give the bare basics of his story. But he paid intent attention to the stories of others, apparently interested in what they were saying.

“So,” you said as you stepped outside after the meeting, “how was that?”

“Interesting,” Solomon said. “Everyone just talked about their loved ones and their feelings.”

“Yeah. It helps to talk about the people you love and how you’re dealing with everything. It helps to know there are other people who care,” you said. “Oh, and, uh, by the way, I brought this with me.” You reached into your pocket and removed the small box.

Solomon delicately opened it and looked down at the necklace. He traced its lines with a finger. His lashes fluttered as he blinked rapidly. “She- My mother would have liked it.”

His voice broke. You leaned into his side, letting him rest some of his weight against you. His tail twined around your leg, as if seeking comfort. “You can cry. Remember? We said it was good to cry.”

Solomon shuddered and tears started to drip down his cheeks. He cried in silence, leaning on you heavily. You allowed him to, only speaking to soothe him.

Eventually, he petered out. You offered him a pack of tissues. He mopped at his face. “Thank you,” he said, voice rusty.

“Of course. Like I said, it’s good to have other people you can count on.” You patted his arm gently.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “I was wondering. The funeral is… soon. Perhaps, if you were willing, you would come with me?” You stared. “You do not need to feel obligated. It is just- you have helped me, recently. I feel that it would be nice to have someone there who understands.”

“Sure,” you said. “I’d be okay with that.” Solomon nodded, then reached into his pocket. He retrieved a wad of cash from his pocket and handed it to you. Your mouth dropped open. It was mostly fifties, with several hundred bills wadded up in the middle. “This… I think this is more than we agreed on.”

“You have given me a greater gift than just the necklace, so I feel that I should pay you back in kind.” Solomon squeezed your shoulder. “Thank you. I will see you again soon.”

His form rippled and extended into a massive, serpentine dragon. Its scales reflected opalescently in the sunlight and his antlers gleamed like metal. There were gasps around you, but your eyes were fixed only on him. He looked back at you with a surprising amount of affection for a draconic face, then he swooped upward and vanished. You stared as he vanished into the sky, awe swelling in your chest. “See you again soon,” you said, half to yourself. “And thank you, too.”

#exophilia #dragon #dragon boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #dragon lover

[fndmxreader]

fandom: harry potter. pairing:  remus lupin x reader | the reader simps for lupin because isn’t that all what we do daily ?  summary:   connected to the self indulgent series where the reader is a slytherin muggle born witch working alongside the teachers at hogwarts.   note: this series will bounce around a lot involving timelines, but a lot of them don’t really have a coherent story line anyway.  movie setting:  prisoner of askaban.  pov:   she/her pronouns.

you were looking off into the distance in a daze, end of pen in mouth as your writings came to a halt and instead getting caught up in thoughts.  your summer hadn’t been great,  if you were being completely honest :  your muggle friends were getting on your case regarding being missing for a year,  you knew at some point you had to pick : the wizarding world or the muggle one,   living two lives was absolutely exhausting,  living them meant being two types of people - like one example,  you had accidentally used a levitating spell to put a cup back and last minute your friend walked in, smashing on the floor as your hand flinched down to your side.

“ what was that crash ? “  “ i put the mug too close to the counter, “ you had laughed nervously, quickly walking towards the glass to pick it up “ it fell off as a result ”  “you’re clumsiness is going to be the death of you “    

that was only one of the close calls,  there were far too many to keep track of,  including dropping hints to the wizarding world in conversation, only to stutter and try and say you were referencing a bizarre indie movie from overseas. at this point you were trying to pick would it be even possible to choose a side ?  it seemed impossible just to pick one over the other,  especially knowing that no matter what route you take it would result in an empty, hollow feeling left inside of chest.    you’re not sure who you could go to for guidance,  you weren’t familiar with any muggle borns your own age,  and talking to a pureblood or half blood would go in vein,  the latter would understand to some degree,  but ultimately it’s not the same and with it being so complicated,  listening to people who barely got it would be a waste of time and only twist the knife in gut. 

 “ everyone,  i would like to introduce you to remus jo - “     that was all you really heard dumbledore say before ears blocked out the world like static,  everything beyond the screaming in your head made everything else seem like a distant hum with no tune,  a crackle of a tv that can’t quite catch signal.  your pen tapped against your bottom lip,  perching against it as you eyebrows knitted together in deep thought.   

maybe professor dumbledore could help,  he wouldn’t get it but maybe he could shred some light on the situation ? he was always good at that. 

“ miss l/n - “

perhaps it’s all just being blown out of proportion,  work leave would surely be something the muggles would understand that.  even if they are after photos, work gossip and other details - 

“ y/n “  between the firmness and the sudden block of your view as the men stepped into eyesight causes you to flinch,  reeling away from nothing in panic as you try and grasped your surroundings once more,   blinking up in a rapid succession that causes concern to flash on the two men’s faces.  it takes a moment to register where you were,  the surroundings,  what the hell was going on in general... 

“ huh ? “  your tongue pokes out to roll against your bottom lip,  eyes wide as you stared up at dumbledore,  only for sight to break away from the one your most familiar with to the new guy...    you won’t lie to yourself,  you weren’t ready for seeing someone like him,  especially in your state.  his eyes were beaming with life,  amusement dancing behind dark hues as a faint smile tugged at lips,  hands pushed far into pockets as eye contact seemed to lock,  your lips part to say something,  anything but much like before your brain seemed to short circuit,  this time for an entirely and much more embarrassing reason,  “ huh ? “ you repeated again,  cheeks coming to life with colour as you kept looking at the new guy.

“ this is professor lupin, y/n.   the new defence against the dark arts teacher - “  speaking slower now,  and you’re rather grateful for the approach because you really needed things to stop going by so quickly,  the whole world seemed to flash in front of you at lightening speed.

“ oh “ a pause,  then it really began to register “ OH ! “  it was the most beautiful example of a pin drop ever to grace hogwarts’ walls  (  yes,  dumbledore will be thinking about it years to come  )   -  you jump up rather clumsily and hold your hand out to the man  “ hi,  sorry  -  i was just ... never mind,  hi  ! “ you repeated again,  the embarrassment settling deep within bones,  making itself at home in the creases of mind that would take weeks to weave out.  but regardless of the mocking in head, you do your best to not feed it and give it anymore attention... at least for the time being.   lupins much bigger hand wraps around yours,  a firm but gentle grasp as he finally takes the moment to speak himself. 

“ that’s quite alright,  i can tell that we disturbed you.  in fact i believe we should be the ones apologising, however professor dumbledore here insisted on the introduction - “ it came easily,  between tone of his voice and the warmth of his hand, you’ve never felt safer, it was like being in a warm hug beside the fire on the night of winter;   you mentally slap yourself for acting like a teenager towards a complete stranger.   your eyes however, narrow towards dumbledore,  in a way blaming you own pathetic display on him.  a faint smile on his lips as he made up some excuse to leave the pair of you alone,  not at all hiding the way his eyes twinkled with amusement at the scene that played out. 

your hand flexed around remus’,  far too busy sending daggers at dumbledore walking away than the fact you were still holding the older man hostage,  not helping the murmured   “ ugh,  he can be such an arse sometimes - “ 

“ i believe that’s apart of the charm “ remus chimed,  your eyes moving back to his as you smiled up at him once more,  less tense than what your face was previously  “ um,   miss l/n ?  your hand - “ 

“ oh, fuck, sorry - “   instantly your arms folded across your chest,  the blush only darkening your cheeks “ i promise i’m not this socially inept,  well,  at least to this extent - “ 

“ oh,  don’t fret.  i’ve met much worse people,  i myself tend to panic in social situations.  they’re not my forte “   you shoulders relax,  though you can’t help but note that he seemed surprisingly at ease even with the confession. your eyes dance around the staff room,  much to your own relief they seemed to be back to focusing on their own work. 

“ well,  you’re doing much better than me if that’s any help.  so,  you’re teaching dark arts -  ? “ then the conversation seemed to spark to life without much spluttering after that,  eventually both sitting on the couch and bonding over lessons;  including how you got your position in the first place,   your arm rested on the back of the furniture as your body turned fully to him,  the longer the pair of you were sat there,  the more they progressed beyond work and more into personal ones, about experiences outside of hogwarts and within the walls, not helping the fits of giggles that bubbled in your chest. 

“ being a slytherin comes with the natural title of ‘dark pranks,’  most of us tend to live up to the name.  people demonise us,  so we give them a reason to continue it.  that certainly doesn’t end at our humour, i think it shows more than ever in that aspect - “ you giggled again, head shaking  “ i remember my friends putting a real snake in one of the gryffindors bed covered in animals blood, the girl panicked for weeks  -  but they started it  ! “   

“ i must say being a gryffindor myself,  i feel like i should be offended on behalf of them.  then again,  my friends here were trouble makers as well.  their pranks could... “  wrist rolled in the air,  and while there’s a hint of pain twisting in features and a haunted look that seemed to cover bright eyes,  there was still a fondness in how he spoke  “ extremely, well and truly out of hand ? “

“ ahah  ! “  it’s like a triumph,  finger pointing at the others face   “ you can hide behind the fancy wording all you want, professor.  but you gryffindors can be just as over the top as the rest of us,  if not more so ! “  he knocks your hand away from his face playfully,  grin widening as mock offence does its best to take over features.

“ firstly,  you may call me remus,  second of all,  i will agree with nothing you say,  i would never stoop so low. “ 

your heart skipped a beat at the notion. 

“ you may call me y/n, only when you admit i’m right - “ 

a nice joke to push down the giddiness of calling him by his first name the short hours of knowing him. 

“ how very slytherin of you - “ 

“ how very gryffindor of you to point that out, remus “ 

the back and forth banter eventually came to a halt, as minutes ticked by it was time to go to the great hall for food and to sort out the new years. you and remus walked in a comfortable silence,  a lightness surrounding you both as it showed in your steps, and showed in the way his lips remained locked in a subtle smile.  you were left with one feeling...  finally, dumbledore hired someone worthwhile. you would also give him a hard time for that awkward bow that he did at dinner. 

#remus lupin x reader #harry potter x reader #hp x reader #teacher!reader series. #the man. the myth. the good doggie - #MSODHSOIDHSOIDH #harry potter corner. #god this took days to write i dont even know why im sorry im a sham

[gone-daddy-gone]

Pairing: You x Dryder! Dabi

Rating: 18+

TW: noncon/rape, breeding kink, slapping, choking

DT: @bigscaryyanderewriter from their piece here and here

Word Count: 3,942

    “And that children, is why spiders are very instinctual, but curious insects.” That was your favorite line. The kids always seemed more interested in spiders after that line. 

   “What’s the most poisonous spider, miss?” Another ill informed question that you were used to. 

    “Well you see kids-”

    “They aren't actually poisonous.” A shaky voice, a deep shaky voice called from behind the heads of your small children you were guiding today. He didn’t really look up at you, he was much too busy admiring your tarantula you decided to put up for display for the day. You nodded in acknowledgment at the voice.

   “Yes, thank you exactly. You see what spiders are is actually venomous. To be poisoned, you must eat something.” The choir of aws that erupted from the kids made you smile before continuing. 

   “You see the venom that comes from the spiders' fangs-” As you looked out and continued in your presentations on the fundamentals of spiders. All the while you kept your eyes on the back. To the man whose face you couldn't quite see. The realization that this man could not be with the children and just randomly snuck in with the children had crossed your mind. Which in turn caused you to cringe, a moment no one in your direct vicinity saw. 

   “Ok kiddos one more question and then we’ll be done and we can feed Mr. Cobalt.” You gave another tour guide smile, before settling on the chubby kid in a yellow knitted sweater.

   “Why are the boys smaller than the girls.” You stifle a chuckle, yet another common ask that never ceased to make you laugh. 

   “You know nature has a funny way of designing things. Boys in our species are bigger for who knows what reason, maybe because we take longer to have babies. But spiders only live for so long. Except, and bringing it back to our tarantula buddy here.” An excellent segway to the feeding and effectively avoiding the uncomfortable question.

    “Yes females can live to up to forty years!”

    “Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?” A sweet girl with pigtails inquired, oh so innocently. 

    “Well, women have more of a role to play I guess. They are the ones laying the eggs for the next generation!” Your comment was so small. So miniscule, to everyone with normal agendas. People with minds who accept nature. Not people like Shigaraki Tomura. 

   You were packing up the things that you had taken out that made it possible for the children to watch nature at work. You felt that you weren’t alone. The hair on your arm standing at full attention. After tucking away the tweezers that many crickets last moments were on. You moved to ignore the presence before they decided to make themselves known. 

   “Are you that fancy out of state spider expert?” The voice was ever so familiar. The familiarity was called for, as your eyes ascended up you recognized the man. The man in the back of the crowd now standing in full view of you. 

    “I think so…?” You said in a way that almost asked him for the answer. 

    “That was a great presentation you did…” 

    “Well, thank you! Those eight legged freaks are my passion.” A cheeky smile plastered on your features. 

    He only hummed in response, his coarse fingertips tapping on the butterfly boxes. The ones that you pin dead butterflies on the white backboard, with a clear window to watch the morbid display. 

   “Have you ever made a discovery yourself.”

   “Well… no. I would love to one day perhaps… but you have to pay your do’s y’know?” You spoke in a manner that was casual, while you moved to pack up and finish this talk as fast as possible. 

    “Do you want to?” 

    You halted everything that you were doing, now paying him full attention.

    “I beg your pardon?” 

    “I have this-” Finally moving his fingers from the butterfly cases to the table that held Mr. Cobolt before continuing. “Spider, that is the first of his kind. One that you get the first look at.” 

 Before you could even fathom the words fully, your words spilled out. “Why me?”

    “Well, dream globally act locally. It's a spider that's made here. Who else better to represent the spider than you?” 

   You didn’t know how to respond, but he anticipated that reaction. “If you come to a conclusion, here’s my card.”

   The facility did not whatsoever reflect the man you met back in the insectarium. It was a huge building, with large windows and white elegant walls. Chic and classy, mixed with just the right amount of tasteful ignorance. The excitement of his promise came bubbling inside of you. This could be huge! If he really did do as he claimed. You could name your own species, start groundbreaking work that no one could overlook. With your heart beating at a resounding pace you made your way to alert the man you had arrived. You rang once and waited, moving your eyes to the backyard. There seemed to be large webs. Could it be a big spider like a Camel spider? In the seconds it took you to notice, the man came rushing to the door and flung it open. Effectively cutting off your view, demanding it back to the building. 

   “Hello and welcome. Come inside. My spider is very excited to meet you.” You smiled at the prospect of a little spider all giddy and ready to be discovered. 

    “Yes I am quite excited to meet, uhm, he or she?” 

    “It’s a boy. A male about to be a man.”

    “What do you-”

    “This way arachnologist!” He cut you off before you could inquire more about the spider. I guess full surprise is better for the discovery. So you foolishly let yourself be lured in further. 

    “That’s a nice camera you got there.” The odd man spoke, trying his best to keep you distracted. You gave a simple hum in response. Letting the memories of the gift play out in your mind. The camera was twice your age. Yet you used it for every single spider you met, giving them each their own little photoshoot. Today was no different, and of course you had to bring your special tool with you to help the spider greet the world. The only sound that was heard through the entire building was the pair of footsteps of you two. It was almost too quiet. Like the building held secrets and if it creaked even just a little bit they would come spilling out. 

   “Wow you uh, you sure do have a lot of hallways for this place. I can barely tell where we came from.” You stated, adding a chuckle at the end to lighten the mood. He didn’t laugh back, didn’t say anything in fact. So you just sighed and kept walking further into the darkness. After what felt like two centuries, he halted himself at a large door with the lights off. 

   “In here.” 

   You gripped your camera a little tighter, waiting for him to open the doors to your destiny. When the door flung open the only thing you could see in the room was a medium sized metal table. You let your face turn into a scowl, even if it was just an accidental one. You couldn’t help but ponder the strange object in the room. The object that didn’t even hold a cage on it. While you were altogether too wrapped up in understanding your surroundings. Shigaraki capitalized on the confusion and locked the door behind you. 

    “Well, um… Where is he?” You said expectantly.

   He gave you a snort that if you listened hard enough would have sounded like a laugh. “Do you know how spiders mate Ms. Arachnologist?” 

    “Well, of course I do! What kinda question is that?”

    “So you know that most females eat the males after they are done, and after that they die?”

   If hiding your confusion was an achievable task it was unbeknownst to you. “Yes, some spiders… Most spiders I guess you could say. But what does-”

    “What if I told you I made a spider that mates for life?”

   Having about enough of the cryptic information you snapped. “Ok well then,” A small laugh that was more breath than anything. “I would call you a crackpot… Is that what you wanted me to say? Spiders don’t mate for life. They don’t have the capacity to… to do that!” Rage finally takes your body over, finding its release via your words. 

   “I can’t believe I even considered this… Thank you Mr. Shigaraki but I must take my leave.” You made your way over to the door, the only noise that could be heard was your angry footsteps. When you finally made it to the door, it stayed firm on its hinges. 

   “Open this door please…” The fear of being alone with this man was enough to get your voice shaking. 

   Shigaraki smiled to himself at the thought of your reaction to what was about to come next.

   That’s when you felt the ground rattle a little bit, your eyes lazed to your feet, the vibration you felt slowly turned your fear to one of dark curiosity. Your eyes finding their way to the table. Your eyes widened as it began to shake, causing the table to take a small shift to the left. Without taking your eyes off the table, fear of it disintegrating or something if you didn’t. Your hand found its place at the door knob, shaking it violently. You were two seconds from slamming your body desperately into the door to free yourself. 

   That was when the source of the sound came in full view. Your legs shook as if they were faulty buildings about to collapse. Your eyes were bigger than dinner plates at the sight ahead of you. The smell, that was what was the worst thing. The smell of something rotten, and some unknown aroma that wafted into your nostrils and burned. You swallowed hard begging your body to just stay upright and to not waver but the closer the thing inched into the room the harder that was.

   “What’s the matter? I thought you loved eight legged freaks?” The man jeered with a disgusting smirk stretching out his crusty lips. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. 

   “This is Dabi.”

   The thing he called “Dabi” was a giant half man half spider abomination. His upper half had the torso and face of a man with the exception of the two twitching phallops in his human mouth. The bottom half was his spider part. Judging by the odd anatomy whoever, or whatever made this thing didn’t understand how spiders work. He was the mix of what seemed to be a black widows female anatomy and regular tarantula. You ascended your eyes down in horror as you observed something protruding out. His claws, his claws that symbolized he was ready to mate.

   Your apparent horror at what you were looking at had caught Dabi’s eye. Through the phallops that just about eclipsed his mouth, you saw him smirk. Very quickly you averted your eyes, ever so desperate to look at something else, anything else but what was in front of you. Your attention was demanded back as it spoke.

   “She sure is cute…” He could feel your heartbeat quicken in his feet. The fear he smelt only made him that much more excited. 

   “She is, isn’t she… just your type. And, she’ll know how to take care of your children. She’s an uppity spider expert.” You turned your head from the horrendous sight and back onto the man who brought you here. Children? This thing was going to have children? As if he could read your mind, the demented man continued.

   “You see arachnologist, you’re really just here to be a breeding slut to my friend here.” The words echoed in your head and all you could do was shake your head in fear.

   “Oh yes you are! You should count yourself lucky to be a part of history. Isn’t that what you wanted?” His words made you feel sick to your stomach. This was not what you wanted at all! Not in the slightest bit.

   “What is that thing?” Was the only thing that came to your mind that was about to shatter itself trying to make sense of it.

   “Well that’s no way to talk about your future baby daddy. His name, like I already said, is Dabi. And he is the first of his kind.” 

   “I- how did you… why would you make a monster like this!”

   “How isn’t really important, I’m sure you wouldn’t understand it even if I told you about it. And I made him as an experiment he was totally willing of course. And you and him are gonna make me a fucking army.” 

   “No.” You tried to sound authoritative. Speaking in a matter of fact way, like you had a choice.     

“Hmm, you think you have a choice? Do you have a way out of here? You’ve been shaking that knob for ten minutes and it still hasn’t budged.” He gave you an evil self satisfactory smile before he continued. “You smell that rotting flesh smell? That’s the venom that drips out of his mouth. When I first made him he couldn’t stop it from coming out, so it spilled all over his chest and arms. If you take care of the venom immediately, then you escape just looking like a charred freak like the poor bastard himself.” He motioned upwards to the spider who had a scowl this time around. Probably at being called a charred freak.

   “But if you don’t you slowly start to rot alive, then when you’re nice and halfway juiced Dabi gets to slurp you, still alive.” He couldn't control himself anymore as he let out a deranged laugh, doubling over and grabbing his belly. He truly thought this was funny.

   “I don’t want to… I just want to go home.” This time Dabi spoke.

   “Shut the fuck up.” He moved faster than you thought he would, legs pounding into the floor leaving vibrations so harsh you couldn’t stand straight. He snatched you in an instant, hands against the wall and larynx being crushed. He leaned down to smell you. You moved yourself back trying in vain to get as far away as possible from this thing.

   “You’re gonna take my cock, then you’re gonna take my eggs. And when I’m done with you you’re gonna look me and Shigaraki in the eye and say thank you like the cum dump breeding whore you are. Do I make myself clear?” 

   Through teary eyes you looked at him with beggarly eyes, you didn’t want to say it. Who would want to say it? So you thought it wise to whisper more pleas. Stupid on your part, really. It only infuriated him more. 

   He tightened his hand on your throat, shutting you up. He could not stand your voice any longer. Reflexively you ran your fingers to his human ones, clawing at them hoping it would do something. Your feet kicked out from under you as he walked you over to the table to lay you down. Without moving his hand he took his other human hand and took off the buttons at top of your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. He licked his lips in anticipation. You still had some fight in you as you kicked and tried to fight him off, but the lack of oxygen was making it hard for you to fight efficiently. Out of the corner of your now blotchy vision you saw his spider legs come up and rip all along your dress that clung to your thigh. Once he had enough buttons popped off for his liking he ripped off your stockings, your final barrier to keep him away was your panties. He took two of his digits and coated them in saliva before pushing them into you. Making sure he kept eye contact the entire time. 

   “You’re gonna be a great mother.” This caused you to weep harder underneath him. His grip far too tight for you to beg for him not to. 

   You averted your eyes, trying to think about anything else but what was happening to you right now. An easier task said than done. The sound of his fingers plunging in and out of you, the squelching. The sound itself was all you needed to hear to know your body was enjoying what your mind was doing backflips to understand. After he felt that he had prepped you well enough he moved his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. The action made you want to throw up everything in your stomach. Your disgust was quickly turned to anguish as he pulled, what you could only assume was supposed to be his cock out of his body. It was blue and looked like what a child imagined a spider penis was supposed to look like. You let out another whimper of fear, he was quite pleased with all your noises and you could tell by the way it twitched in his hand. 

   “Yeah keep crying, I like that.” He was a monster. Inside and out. 

   He let himself slip inside your trembling walls. A deep groan escaping his mouth, going straight into your ear with a few huffs of hot breath. It stung pretty bad, you couldn’t imagine what the pain would have been like if you weren’t prepared. His thrusts weren’t too skilled either, the human bit of the spider probably not used to fucking unwilling girls as a spider. Well, at least not the fucking as a spider bit. You were still trying to do your mental backflips to understand how this happened. However, you felt a moan slip past your preoccupied self. A gasp coming out after, realizing that you were starting to moan like a whore from being raped by a spider. Dabi noticed this too, displaying a smirk on his lips. 

   The beast angled his hips at just the right spot to make you lose yourself as he used your pliant body like a fleshlight. Your toes crinkled and you tried to turn your head away in disgust, but his claws dug their way into either side of your cheek, dragging your face towards his again.

   “Look at me while I do this to you.” You nod, whimpering as he continued to shove himself inside of you harshly. Each time he dragged his cock out of you caused you to let out a sigh of relief before he would snap back into you which made you moan out in both utter pain and unwilling pleasure. Something about making you enjoy your own sexual torment made it that much better for him. He let his claws find their way to your tits, giving them a light squeeze before he slapped them, watching as you winced in pain.

   “Your pussy tightens when you’re in pain...I like that.” He gave you a few more slaps before he took your nipple and twisted it so harsh you thought it was going to pop off. 

   “AH! S-stop it hurts! Please…” The pain and desperation taking over you once again as you flailed around like a fish beneath him. 

   “You’re such a bad liar...look at you you’re dripping for me.” He was right, the damn twisted bastard was right. You could feel it dripping down your thigh, you could hear your moans bouncing off the walls and mixing with his groans, the occasional sinister laugh coming from Shigaraki observing over the situation.

   “I’m gonna breed you, and I’m gonna breed you until the only thing left in that brain of yours is how to take my cock and push out my fucking children. Because that’s all you’re fucking good for, you understand me?” You moaned, disgusted with yourself for getting off on the thought of being a good for nothing breeding whore. Your arosued response wasn’t a good enough one, so he slapped you in the face again. “Use your words you fucking, bitch.” You let out a meek “yes I understand.” He kept hammering into you like you couldn’t feel pain, but your surrender was met with a small chaste kiss on your forehead. A reward of some sorts. The small bit of compassion was more than welcomed.

   “Oh give me a break.” You heard Shigaraki comment from the other side of the room. “She’s already starting to break...how sad and weak the female brain is...absolutely losing, submitting herself completely at a fat cock and a little bit of pleasure.” 

   He was right, your mind was swirling from fear, pain and guilty pleasure. And the pleasure was building up, driving you close to your end you were so desperate to reach. Moving your hips at the same pace as his, desperately trying to chase that high to an end. You heard him chuckle in your ear, and his hand slipped to your clit, giving it intense swirls.

   “That’s a good breeding slut. Already learning your place I see.” You were being lost in pure ecstasy, you would say anything right now, do anything to please him. “Y-yes. Yes!” You were moaning out, nearly crying, but only god could tell from what emotion. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna- ah fuck!” And with that you finally came undone. Realising your own juices all over your rapist's cock. He kept pumping into you, fucking you through your high. You were fucked beyond all comprehension as your hole began to suck and squeeze him again, building back that second orgasm. You pounded on his chest, pleading with your hands to stop because you were so fucked out, so cock hungry you couldn’t make words. If you could, you would tell him you were overstimulated, that you can’t take it anymore as much as the pleasure felt like heaven, that you were no longer going to get to see. That you were seeing stars, and on the verge of passing out. But you were inching closer and closer to your second orgasm. 

   “Aw? Are you gonna cum again? Huh? You fucking little cock whore I knew you would like this. Just waiting for a monster to come and split you in two. To come and fuck you senseless, to put- ah fuck you feel so fucking good...so fucking tight I can barely stand it. You wanted me to put you in your place. Didn’t you slut?” You were panting and moaning, digging your nails into his chest, feverishly shaking your head yes. He smacked across the face again with all his might. “Answer me when I’m talking to you bitch!”

   “Yes! Please that’s what I wanted...that’s all I want please...let me cum please...ah fuck...you can do whatever you want to me, fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your begging and total submission had made him go feral, and he was ready to shoot his seed inside of you, to mark you as his bitch like you were born to be. Pounding you senseless, feeling you squeeze around him, sucking his seed out of him. And did he sure have a lot of it. Loads and loads of thick white cum entered your system, cum that for sure was going to get you pregnant with his freaky little spider babies. Babies that you said you would have, babies that you would raise with your rapist all because he made you cum. For a college educated woman, you sure didn’t have much in that head of yours.

#dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi mha #dabi x reader #dabi x you #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia x reader #mha headcanons #bnha #bnha imagines #BNHA Headcanons #rape tw #abuse tw #choking tw #breeding tw #slapping tw

[archonanqi]

fragile as dust | 5 - culmination

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🔖 a/n - aaah some stuff finally starts going down in this chapter, thanks y'all for staying patient through the last four chapters. please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates! enjoy!

—

  “Admittedly,” Zhongli sighed, “I may have gone a little overboard with the food.”

   You both peered at the carnage leftover from your feast, the table strewn with at least half of the meal left.

   “Are you full?” Zhongli inquired. He wasn’t smiling, but there was unmistakeable amusement in his voice. You nodded — a few minutes ago, you’d felt like you could have eaten everything on the table, but the physical limits of your stomach betrayed you. “Very well. Let’s clean up, then I will show you around the house. How does that sound?”

   It still took you by surprise, each time he asked you for your opinion. “It sounds good, Mr. Zhongli.”

—

   The first time you touched him was as he handed you one of the plates, as you thumbed over the intricate blue-white markings and felt your fingers brush.  You didn’t know it then, but it would not be the last.

   He was wearing his gloves, and so it was really leather that you’d touched, but it was electrifying all the same. You winced, searching his features for any displeasure. It was not your place to so much as gaze upon a noble of  half his status without permission, let alone touch — you’d been taught that lesson, quickly and very early on.

   “Please take this to the kitchen,” he requested, as though nothing had happened. You obeyed with slow, deliberate steps, squashing even any thoughts of dropping the fine china. Gingerly — how in Celestia was even the inside of his fridge elegant? — you set it down, closed the door and almost jumped out of your skin. He was standing right behind you, arms crossed as he studied you, features unreadable.

   “Tell me a little about yourself, Hansi.”

   Small talk? Or a test? Surely, certainly, he wasn’t genuinely curious? You felt naked under his probing gaze, still clad in that plain white dress. Had it really only been a day since you’d met Zhongli? Every second with him seemed to stretch over the length of a millennia. Instinctively, your hands wandered to your chest, feeling for your Vision. Wasn’t there. Wouldn’t help you even if it was.

   I grew up in a shithole with a dozen other people. I stole, robbed, dredged myself through life, you imagined yourself saying to him, just to get sold to a nobleman who thinks I’m too stupid to understand his intentions. 

   By the way, three nights ago, Rex Lapis smoked up something real good and gave me a Geo Vision I don’t know how to use.

   “There is nothing to know about me,” you said, instead, “save that I am bound to you in loyal servitude, and that I will do as you please, Mr. Zhongli.“

   “Hm.” Zhongli hummed, a low echo. His golden gaze rend you through Then, rather abruptly, he said, “Let’s begin the house tour, shall we?”

   Somehow, his curtness stung. Had you said something wrong? What you’d said — that was the textbook response you were meant to give, no? Regardless, you nodded your obedience, swallowing the fear you felt, as always, at his displeasure.

—

   You almost expected there to be a dungeon of some sort hidden behind one of the doors, some skulls, maybe a poor chained up Hilichurl or two.

   What you didn’t expect was so many rocks. 

   And paintings. And scrolls, and trinkets, and jewelry, arranged carefully upon display stands in each room. You remembered how cluttered the drawers were that you hid your Vision in. In the daylight, now that your mind wasn’t clouded with as much fear and fatigue, you were realizing just how much stuff Zhongli owned.

    (Vaguely, it brought to mind images of dragons — the billowing, fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding creatures you’d read about in one of the many storybooks you’d stolen. You shook that image out of your head. Zhongli was plenty intimidating, even without a set of horns and fangs.)

   “—and this is the bathroom,” Zhongli said, pushing open the door. The bathroom, on its own, was bigger than the shack you’d shared with four other families growing up. In the middle of the room, the dark marble floor gave way to a large, circular bathtub — it looked a little like a pool. “You are free to use it, and anything in it, whenever you’d like.”

   The idea of a hot bath was heaven, but you were a hundred percent certain that your current state — dirt-caked fingernails and unkempt hair and all — was all that was keeping you safe. If you got nice and clean, who was to say what he would decide to do to you?

   No, you would avoid taking a bath as long as you could.

   Zhongli closed the door, and hesitated. “Hmm. There is less than I thought to show you,” he admitted. “These other rooms are simply full of items I’ve collected over the years, and I’m sure they would bore you.“

   “It would be my pleasure to hear more about them,” you said, quickly. You wanted to keep him talking; as long as he was talking, he was doing nothing else. Besides, you found yourself growing more and more intrigued about Zhongli — only so that you could read him better, you promised yourself.

   “Well, then far be it from me to deny you your pleasure,” he said. “What would you like to know more about?”

   You glanced around, gaze landing on a small, glass standing display case. Two gemstones sat side by side in it, both a rich, translucent gold — like his eyes, you thought. “What are those?”

   “Cor Lapis,” he said, and you heard a hint of something in his voice. Pride? “They were a gift, from someone close to me.”

   “Are they worth a lot? They’re so pretty.” You bit your lip. They were probably worth more than the average Liyue merchant would ever earn. Pretty? Really?

   “In terms of Mora, yes, they are worth no small amount,” Zhongli replied. “However, their value far surpasses material currency, for these are prime Cor Lapis samples from Mount Hulao.”

   “Hulao... in Jueyun Karst?” You’d heard the rumors that floated between drunk fishermen and merchants, of the dangers of the mountain, of those who entered and came back changed. You had never put much stock in them — drunk men would say just about anything.

   “Yes. And as I’m sure you know, Jueyun Karst is a dangerous place to venture into, without the proper precautions.”

   “Dangerous… even for you?” You glanced at the Vision hanging off his waist. You couldn’t imagine a situation where Zhongli would ever be forced to break that collected facade of his.

   “For any human.”

   You found yourself enjoying the light conversation — you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken to another person like this. “Who gave you these?” You tried to smile, and it came easier than you expected. “They must have been really nice, to give away something so expensive.”

   Immediately, you regret opening your mouth. Zhongli’s eyes darkened, and his face fell visibly.

   “Yes. She… was certainly very kind,” he said, quietly. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Couldn’t.

   Was? You wanted to kick yourself. Of course you’d manage to bring up his dead friend in your first real conversation with him. The next seconds of silence were almost unbearable. Finally, you spoke up with the first thing that popped into your head. “So, you like rocks?”

   By the Archon, weren’t you on a roll today.

   You were pleasantly baffled to hear him chuckle, a deep, throaty rumble from the depths of his chest. “Yes, one could say that I am fond of them.” He said, amidst soft laughter. “And you?”

   “I don’t know much about them,” you admitted, “but the ones you have are beautiful, Mr. Zhongli.” So was his laugh.

   “Is that so?” He asked, the previous conversation seemingly forgotten, as he strode over to a case across the room, “perhaps you will find these to your fancy as well — these pieces of Noctilucuous Jade were mined from the deepest mines of the Mingyun...“

—

   By the time Zhongli had finished regaling you about his rock collection, the sky outside had become a smear of pink and orange, the sun drifting barely over the horizon. You hadn’t even noticed the time — Zhongli simply had the kind of voice that demanded wholehearted attention.

   “I seem to have gotten carried away again,” Zhongli smiled. Was it just you, or were his smiles coming more frequently? “Thank you for being such a good listener, Hansi.”

   You nodded in response, not quite sure what to say to that. The praise had a strange, warm feeling spreading through your chest.

   “All that’s left of the house is the library upstairs,” he paused, the tacit question clear on his lips.

   You froze. Ever since you started stealing to survive, you’d made a point to sell everything that couldn’t be eaten. Jewelry, hairpins, no matter how pretty, no matter how much your heart ached to put them on, went straight to the pawn store. But you could never sell books. You couldn’t bear to give up the worlds within them, the promises that one day you would be able to live as freely as the heroes of those stories.

   So you stole. First from Wanwen bookstore, then when the owner learned to watch for your grubby hands, from bags and pockets and homes. You devoured them like hot meals, kept them under the floorboards of your corner, read them out loud to the kids who lived with you, read them till the dirt from your fingers had smeared the words to unrecognition.

   You wanted to see Zhongli’s library, so badly that it hurt.

   But to tell him this would be to admit to him that you’d stolen those books, that you taught yourself a skill that someone of your social class didn’t deserve to learn. Something you weren’t worthy of.

   “I can’t read anyway,” you lied.

   “I see,” Zhongli said. “Then, shall we go and get some dinner? Are you feeling well enough to make a trip to Liyue Harbor? I know the most splendid restaurant.”

—

   You thought that things were going relatively well, that you were doing a fine job of squashing the unease and distrust of Zhongli that still gnawed at the corners of your mind. You were giddily excited, even, to be going to a restaurant for the first time.

   So, as you two arrived at the outskirts of Liyue, close enough to hear the bustle of nightlife, you certainly weren’t expecting the sudden wave of emotions that knocked you clean off your feet.

   It had started small — the unrelenting reminder of how out of place you would look at the restaurant. How out of place you would look in public, next to Zhongli in all his regality. Then: how out of place you truly were — how absurd of you to have started warming up to Zhongli when you knew, with every fiber of your being, what all men like him wanted; when you knew that one day he would grow impatient of waiting for you to offer it.

   If you took his dinner, his food, his kindness, what would you begin to owe him?

    Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. The bile that rose through your throat was hot and bitter, and you doubled over and retched noisily into the nearest bush. Vaguely, you could hear Zhongli’s exclamation and his footsteps approaching, but you couldn’t stop until your stomach was empty once again.

   You flinched violently at his light touch on your shoulder. “Hansi,” he said, and you were baffled at how genuine his concern sounded, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

   “I don’t know,” you whispered, and it was true. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

   “Please don’t apologize. Can you stand?” Zhongli asked, voice low and soothing. “Let’s get you home.”

   You nodded. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

   “Nonsense, your health is infinitely more important.” He said. “Do you think that you can walk?”

   Once again, you nodded. You let him lead you home.

—

   When you reached the front door of the house, Zhongli’s hand on your shoulder firm and gentle, something had begun — deep in your heart — to fester. The fear, the confusion, the things that had fallen into place but didn’t quite fit together — it had all been boiling too long, too hot. 

   “Mr. Zhongli.” You said, as you stepped through the door, once again greeted by a warm gust of air. 

   “Yes, Hansi?” He asked, close behind. His hand on your shoulder was suddenly heavy, and hot. You shrugged it off, whipping around to stare him in the eyes.

   “Please, just— do whatever you’re planning to do to me.” You said, knowing that if you lost your momentum now you would never get it back.

   “I beg your pardon?”

   “I’m not a child. We both know what I'm here for. When I lived on the streets, two pieces Mora would have earned any nobleman a night -- let alone... however much you’ve spent.” You were vaguely aware of how many lines you were crossing with each word, but there was no stopping the words flowing from your lips now. You could feel your heart thrashing against your chest, anger warming your bones. 

   “We both know that I have nowhere to run, no way to defend myself, so just DO it already. Be cruel, hit me, whatever, do your thing so that I can stop holding my Archon-damned breath and waiting for the inevitable. What exactly are your intentions with me, sir?”

   You paused to catch your breath, and the horror set in suddenly. Your temper had always been the bane of your well-being — you just had to let it get the best of you, every time, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you have just bided your time and waited for his patience to run out later rather than sooner?

   Zhongli stayed silent, face pulled into a frown as though he was pondering over your words. Time seemed to slow into a viscous fluid, drowning you in its wake. You glanced down the hallway at your room.

   If he raised his hand against you, would you be able to make it to your room? Would you be able to grab your Geo Vision before he caught you, and would you even be able to use it against him, against the years of experience he’s had with his? You knew the answer to all of those questions: a resounding no.

   Would he let you live if you apologized? You opened your mouth to beg.

   “My intentions with you...” he said, brow pulled down over heavy lids. “Hm. It seems that I must apologize.”

   You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For the umpteenth time since your meeting with Zhongli, you wondered: What?

   “I have been trying to let you acclimate to your new life at your own pace, whilst moving on from your old.” Zhongli’s pursed lips were the only sign of discomfort in his composed features. “I did not know that such concerns were going through your head, though I should have seen that your seeming lack of fear was but a facade from your incredibly strong character.”

   In the corner of your eye, you saw your hands trembling. You tried to get them to stop. They would not.

   Zhongli swept on. “The circumstances of our meeting are... unfortunate. In time, you will understand my intentions in orchestrating our meeting, but for now -- you have been put in a very uncomfortable situation. I am remiss for not having acknowledged this much earlier.”

   What?

   Zhongli cleared his throat. “Hansi, please listen to me. While you are under my roof, I will never lift a finger to cause you any harm, physically or otherwise. And for as long as you are a part of my household, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are never again touched by hunger, frost, hardship. That you will never be subject to the kind of fear that’s making you tremble,” he reached out slowly and took your hand, “like this.” 

   He had done all the speaking, but it was you who had lost the breath from your lungs. Each of his words was a low rumble, earthquakes in their own right. You didn’t know if you believed him, but you so badly, badly wanted to, with every inch of your shaking body.

   “I do not expect you to believe me, right now,” he said, as though reading your mind. He let go of your hand, and it fell back to your side, still shaking. “However, you will soon come to learn that I never break my word.”

   You were beginning to see why Rex Lapis had chosen to grace this man with a Vision. He commanded — no, demanded — your attention, your respect, your trust, your entire being. There was more to him than the rich, lonely nobleman he seemed to be; in that moment, you had never been more sure of it.

   “Is there anything else you would like to ask me, Hansi?” Zhongli asked.

   You shook your head, mutely. There were a lot of things you wanted to say to that, but the swollen words stuck in your throat. “Thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, and hoped he heard everything behind it. 

  Tomorrow morning, you supposed, it’d be alright if you had that bath.

#zhongli #zhongli fanfic #Zhongli fanfiction #Zhongli genshin #genshin #genshin fanfic #Zhongli x reader #fragile as dust #anqi writes #my writing #this is solidly toeing the boundaries of self indulgence/projection #but I hope y'all like it anyway ;;

[blu-joons]

Fairytale Of New York ~ Mark Tuan

A cold hand slipped into yours as you began to walk along the busy streets of New York, the air was a lot cooler than you had imagined, with your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck to match the attire of most of the people you passed. The feel of his hand sent a shiver down your spine as you squeezed his palm to try and warm him up a little bit too.

Throughout the day it had been bitterly cold for you both, but as it neared the evening, and various displays of lights began to light up around the place it only added to the cool temperature. Whilst Mark stood beside you, pretending to be warm, the red tinge to his cheeks told you a different story.

“There’s a store over there, why don’t we get a drink?” You suggested, pointing to a small cabin at the end of the street.

Mark glanced across, his eyes lighting up as he saw a couple walking away clutching to cups of hot chocolate. “It can’t do no harm to go and explore.”

You pulled him through the gaps in the crowds to the cabin, grabbing your purse from your coat pocket and buying two of the largest size hot chocolates they sold, passing the first to Mark before taking one for yourself.

The two of you settled on a bench in the park whilst you let your drinks cool for a few moments, looking out across the city. Since you were little, you’d dreamt about spending a Christmas in New York, it was a story you’d told Mark too many times, but he was always more then glad to listen and see the way your eyes always lit up.

Your day had mainly consisted of exploring, with the weather so cold the two of you continued to walk around to try and keep yourselves warm, a bit of shopping, a lot of food, and albums worth of photos to take back home, the two of you had made sure to make the most of your trip.

And of course, Mark had absolutely loved helping you fulfil your dream. He wasn’t always sure if he was going to make it happen as he always got so busy this time of year, but with the help of the company and his friends he managed to find the time to fly you out. As he watched you take a sip from your drink, noticing the glisten in your eye, he was beyond happy that he did.

With your day so full, you didn’t think there was much more that Mark could do for your day, but as you finished your drinks, he pulled a photo out of his pocket, sliding it across the table to you. You picked it up and turned it over, seeing a picture of the Rockefeller tree.

“How do you fancy seeing the real thing?” He asked, as you let a squeal.

It was the one place you’d always wanted to visit at Christmas, nowhere did Christmas quite like New York, especially the Rockefeller Center. You didn’t even give yourself time to respond, grabbing his hand encouraging him to lead the way for you both.

“I can’t believe you organised for us to go,” you smiled, holding tightly onto his arm as you walked through the streets. It was heaving with tourists like yourselves, but neither of you seemed to mind, just enjoying having each other’s company.

The walk wasn’t too far for either of you as you soon spotted all the lights before even getting too close to the tree itself.

As soon as you were in front of it, you had your phone pulled out, snapping a photo. “It looks so much nicer than any photo I’ve ever seen of it. Look how big it is too, I wonder how much time they put into making this every year?”

“I bet they spend hours on it when it attracts so many people,” Mark mused from behind you, placing his arms around your waist, “it’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be, it makes me feel tiny.”

“I wouldn’t like to be the person doing the decorations at the top,” you chuckled, staring up to the tip of the tree. “It’s just so beautiful, I’d say it’s the perfect place for us to take a photo together.”

With that, Mark spun you around as you flipped the camera on your phone, holding it up. As your finger pressed to take a photo, you felt a chilled pair of lips press to your cheek, followed up by a nervous giggle. “Let’s take another, just in case that one didn’t turn out right.”

“You’re only saying that because now you’re nervous. Let’s see it, I’m sure it looks good,” you smiled.

And as you clicked on the photo to enlarge it, you couldn’t help but chuckle. You had the widest smile on your face as Mark’s lips rested against your cheek, his eyes were tightly shut, with strands of hair covering them slightly that had fallen from his beanie.

“See, you look handsome,” you complimented, saving the photo before Mark could argue any longer. “Maybe we should get it framed when we get home, it’s the perfect little keepsake for us to remember this trip by,” you suggested, watching as his head nodded back at you.

“Have you had a good time here?” He questioned, resting his chin onto your shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to give you everything that you wanted to do whilst we were here, but I hope it was still magical for you.”

The whole trip had been a massive tick off your bucket list, it didn’t matter how much or little you did, just being in New York meant the world to you. And spending it with Mark, certainly was the icing on top of the cake.

“If you had the slightest clue of how many of my dreams you’ve made come true on this trip, then you’d know that I’ve had the best time ever. I can’t thank you enough for bringing me.”

His lips pressed to your cheek once more, “I had the best time too, I’m glad I got to be here with you.”

The two of you turned back to face the tree, feeling the breeze of an ice skater fly past you both. Your attention was quickly drawn to how effortlessly she moved, you only dreamt of being able to do what she did. Mark caught on too to your eyes following her around, the gasps of amazement that came from you every time she spun or leapt.

His hands tapped against your waist, bringing your gaze up to meet his eyes. “There was final surprise I had for the two of us,” he whispered, nodding towards the ice rink. “How do you fancy getting on and having a skate around too?”

Your voice shouted a little louder earning a few stares from the people around you, wrapping your arms tightly around Mark’s neck. He held onto you securely, blushing as your head nodded immediately in response to him.

“Shall we head round, the slot we have is soon?”

“Just when I think this couldn’t get any better,” you hummed, following his lead to the hut of the ice rink, queuing up behind several other couples and families. “How did you manage to keep this a secret? You’re usually terrible at keeping things from me?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure how I managed to keep it a secret either, but when I was looking at things to do, I saw so many things that said skating at Rockefeller Center. Plus, it looks pretty romantic, and I’ll do anything to get a kiss from you.”

Your eyes rolled, hitting lightly against his padded chest. “You didn’t have to bring me here to get a kiss, but you’ll certainly be getting plenty for bringing me here.”

“As long as one of us doesn’t end up in hospital, I’ll hold you to that,” he chuckled, “I can’t remember the last time I skated, so I’m not feeling particularly confident.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there to hold your hand,” you assured him, intertwining your hand with his. “And if we do fall, it’ll just make it even funnier to look back on.”

“If you promise not to laugh at me, I’m sure we won’t have a problem,” he teased, “and if you do laugh at me, rest assured that I will definitely find a way to get back at you, especially when you least expect it.”

Your smile only grew as you made your way closer down the line and onto the rink. “I won’t laugh, I promise. Just as long as you don’t fall!”

“Just hold me hand and keep me upright, that’s all you have to do. Just getting off of here in one piece will be quite the achievement.”

“You’ll be fine, just trust me, I’ve got you…”

---

Masterlist

#got7 #got7 imagine #mark tuan #mark tuan imagine #mark #mark imagine #got7 scenario #got7 reaction #got7 one shot #got7 drabble #got7 fluff #mark tuan drabble #mark tuan scenario #mark tuan reaction #mark tuan one shot #mark tuan fluff #mark scenario #kpop #kpop imagine

[a-simple-imagine]

Day 6 - Down at The Lake

Synopsis: You’re staying at the burrow over Christmas break and Ginny decided to take you ice skating

Pairing: Ginny Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 2k+

A/N- Haven’t written for Ginny before but this was suggested to me so I combined it with an idea i already had. 

As rigorous shaking drags you kicking and screaming from your dreams, you open your eyes to see a freckled face staring back mere inches from your face. Ginger hair circling you, you push her back abruptly. When you agreed to come home with her for Christmas, this was definitely not what you were picturing. A little personal space would be nice. "Merlin's beard, Ginny!" You exclaim, dropping your hand from her chest. "are you trying to give a girl a heart attack?"

"Get up!" There's a certain degree of her eagerness behind her words as she stands upright. The room was shrouded in dim light, casting the youngest Weasley in a warm mid-morning glow. It was way too early for her to be so perky.

"What time is it?" You mumble into the pillow, rubbing your eye with the palm of your hand. Judging by the lighting, it was still pretty early.

"Like six," Six A.M? What could possibly justify waking you up at six am during the holidays. Why was she even up so early normally you're the one trying to get her out of bed. "So get up."

"No, it's too early," Rolling onto your side, you nuzzle against the pillow and close your eyes. To your surprise, you feel a weight slam ontop of you. Was she for real?

"I won't leave you alone," Her voice is but a whisper in your ear sending a chill down your spine.

"Fine," Shoving her off, you hear her fall off the bed. An amused smile as you turn the other way. "Just give me a minute." Snuggling into the duvet, you shuffle about trying to get comfortable again but then she pulls, pulls, pulls until you're basically fighting over a duvet.

"Stop being lazy," Releasing the covers, they zoom off you as the other girl stumbles backwards. You can't help but chuckle a little as you sit up, slapping both cheeks gently to try and wake yourself up. Jumping to her feet, Ginny displays a triumphant grin. "Mum is making breakfast," she announces before turning sharply and heading for the door. "Don't go back to sleep."

You did debate just going back to sleep but you decided it wasn't worth facing the wrath of Ginny Weasley. So you force yourself out of bed and get ready for the day. Descend the long staircase of the burrow as quietly as physically possible, you join Ginny who sat at the dinning table telling Mrs Weasley all about some quidditch game. The air smells like sizzling bacon and dewy morning air. Mr. Weasley is present too, reading a paper.

"Took you long enough," Ginny announces when she notices you.

"It's way too early,"

"Good morning," Mr. Weasley states a little too brightly for this early in the morning.

"Breakfast will be done in a jiffy, would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Molly offers, you nod a little as you take a seat opposite Ginny. Watching as Molly grabs the metal kettle and pours the hot water into a cup. "Ginny, go get your brothers up."

"Why do I have to do it?" She groans loudly. Molly hands you the cup that has little pictures  of dragons around the rim before shooting the ginger girl a look. You guessed the mug belonged to her brother Charlie. "Fine."

Pushing out the chair with a brash screech, Ginny charges up the stairs. The sound of her yelling her brother's names echo off the walls before she reappears again. You take a sip of your tea, burning your tongue in the process and quickly putting it back down.

"Since when were you here?" The youngest weasley son trudges over, taking up the seat next to you. He gives an almighty yawn before slumping down against the table.

"I invited her so shut up."

"It was just a question, shesh"

"I arrived yesterday," You explain politely, offering him a tiny smile to which he just shrugs. As plates are placed on the table, the rest of the family starts appearing one by one; each taking up a spot around the table. You hate to admit it because it wasn't like they were intentionally making you feel that way but it feels a little weird being sat among so many family members. You feel like an outcast, invading their breakfast.

"So what are everyone's plans today?" Mr Weasley questions and the boys all talk over each other so eager to tell their story.

"I'm going down to the lake," Ginny announces plainly, drawing the attention to her.

"The lake? Why?" Ron wonders

"Fancy a skate do you?" George inquires with a bit of a giggle.

"Skate?" Were you missing something here?

"In December the lake freezes over so you can ice skate on it,"

"Oh..." That was unexpected. You didn't have a clue how to ice skate nor did you bring any skates? This seemed like a very bad idea. "I don't know how to skate,"

"You'll be fine," Ginny asserts. "I'll teach you."

After being dragged through the frosty woods for what felt like forever, you arrive at a tremendous lake that was covered in shades of icy white and blue. You swallow hard, a pit beginning to form in your stomach as you watch ginny attach these wooden skates to her shoes.

"Don't look so scared, it's just ice," Her hand slaps against your back. "No shame in falling over."

"Are you sure this is safe?" Peering down at the edge of the ice, it's almost like you can picture the disaster waiting to happen.

"Don't be such a baby," Harmless teasing but enough for you to commit to attaching the skates to your own shows. With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you take a leap of faith and step very cautiously onto the ice with one foot. When you were assured it wasn't about to break, you bring the other foot over. Perhaps this would be fun after all. However, you still had no clue how to skate and frankly were too scared to move. Ginny on the other hand looked like she'd been doing this for years. Gliding across the ice in a way that looked both clumsy and graceful. Noticing you, she urges you over but you just shake your head rapidly. "Can't teach you if you won't even move," Making her way over to you, she takes you gloved hands in hers. The most gentle of smiles as she pulls you along just a little, helping you steady yourself. "Just put one foot in front of the other and glide."

"Easier said than done," The bit grew deeper as you shuffled along as best you could, following the other girl's lead.

"Just have a little faith in me," She gently squeezes your hand. "I won't let anything bad happen to you," Still easier said than done but you nod. "Watch my feet." Dropping your hands, Ginny propels forward starting with her right foot then her left in a steady rhythm before circling back. "See easy. You try,"  

"I'm not sure about this," Almost falling on the first step, you hold your arms out wide for balance before pushing forward on your right leg followed perhaps a little too quickly with left but still, you move forward across the ice.

"You got it, just keep doing that and take longer strides so you really slide." You try to follow her advice and it's all fun and games until you slip and fall smack against the ice.

"Are you okay?" The girl rushes over to you, reaching down to help you up. Nothing was really hurt except your pride and bottom for that matter. "Steady?"

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"Good," Her grin brightens as she takes one of your hands and pulls you along behind her. "Do you regret giving it a chance?"

"No it's fun,"

"Are you lying to me?" Ginny glancing back at you briefly. You were genuinely enjoying being out here; playing on the ice. Just the two of you. But it was also rather hard and every moment felt like you were gonna fall.

"I would never,"

"Liar," she chuckles. "Do you wanna race?"

"You'll obviously win," Wouldn't be much a race considering how much better she is.

"I'll go easy on you," You end up agreeing but only because she flashed her best puppy dog eyes. Lining up beside you, Ginny flashes a wicked grin. "Ready?"

You nod.

"Three... two... one... go,"

There was no point in trying because Ginny's idea of going easy on you was speeding off ahead. So you leisurely stroll a little faster than you previously had until you hear it and panic sets in.

Crack.

You come to an abrupt stop but the sound of crackling just triples and you suddenly plunge into the lake water's icy embrace. Struggling to the surface you call out her name but it's hard to stay afloat when your skin burns from the cold. Perching on the edge of the ice, it just crumbles away creating an even bigger hole. Every time you fall back under, you wonder if you'll be able to keep returning to the surface. Taking a deep breath each time as you yell out. You can make out Ginny's appearance behind the water's surface "Wait here," Where did she think you could go? Moments later that felt like hours, The ginger haired girl returns with a tree branch, "Grab on," she yells out as she lays down on the ice. "Push up with your elbows, okay? Ginny pulls with all her might yanks on the wood until you're finally on solid ground; the cold air setting in quickly. You spit out some water and your body begins to shake. Her voice drowned out but the heaving of your chest and the rest was a blur.

The next morning you wake up feeling rough to say the least. You swim in the icy water has definitely left you with some kind of cold or flu. Your head feels fuzzy, your eyes tired and there was a low but ever present burning in your throat. The sound of distant voices hit's your ears and it takes a minute to realise you're in the burrow.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. How you feeling?" Ginny enters the room with a blanket tucked under her arm and a bright smile on her lips.

"Shitty," Sinking further under the covers, you chase the warmth and comfort that they provide.

"Mum says you should stay in bed so I brought you an extra blanket in case you're cold."

"Thanks," Unfolding the blanket, she tosses it over the bed before taking a seat on the edge. Slapping her hand against your forehead; she immediately draws away.

"ew you're hot and sweaty," She wipes her hand on the blanket

"I don't feel it," You murmur softly and then nothing. Ginny just stares down at her hands as she fiddles with her fingers. "Something wrong?"

"I'm just sorry,"

"What for?" Your brows furrow in confusion.

"For you almost drowning,"

"That's not your fault," Well, not entirely. She was the one to encourage you to get on the ice but you don't blame her for the ice breaking.

"I should have warned you about the ice, it can be kinda thin in place."

"It's not a big deal, I only almost died," You tease, raising your shoulders in a playful shrug. .

"I don't know what I would have done if you died," Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet so you're not entirely sure, you're supposed to hear her.

"Well I'm not dead so you have nothing to worry about,"

"Do you want some soup?"

"soup?" That was abrupt.

"Mum made soup."

"Feels a little early for soup,"

"Never too early." She emphasises vividly before softening. "I really am sorry about what happened,"

Reaching up, you grab her arm and pull her towards you; wrapping her up in your arms as she giggles against your neck. "Stop apologising you dumbass, I'm fine."

"Get off me- you're all sweaty." Both palms against you she pushed back and you really don't have the strength to fight her. "I'm gonna get you some soup you need to eat."

#Ginny Weasley #ginny weasley x reader #ginny weasley imagine #Harry Potter

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

prompt: Undercover

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

Dean has been undercover for many times in his life.

FBI agent, Homeland Security officer, reporter, janitor, gym teacher, lunch lady, maintenance guy, minister, private detective, and so on and so on. The list is so long that he's actually more familiar with playing a role when interacting with strangers than being himself.

So when they're on yet another case again and Sam calls him from the local library and tells him to dress up Dean doesn't even think about questioning it.

“Your fanciest clothes,” Sam orders, making it pretty clear there should be no discussion about it. “Designer suit, shiny shoes. And a shave because you're starting to look like a hobo.”

Dean barely lifts an eyebrow. “What do you need me to be? A snobby multimillionaire too good for this world.”

“The snobbiest,” Sam agrees. “It needs to look like the stench of money is following you everywhere.”

And so Dean does as he's told.

A while ago he got himself one of those super expensive Armani or whatever outfits for a case (thanks to Charlie's unlimited credit card no problem at all) and has it stashed in the depths of Baby's trunk ever since. It's only been used once so far considering fake FBI agents or journalists are rarely dressed in designer suits. At least not if they don't want to draw too much unwanted attention to them.

Dean isn't exactly sure the damned thing still fits after all that time, but after a quick shower and shave he gives it a try and finds himself pleasantly surprised when the suit still wraps itself over his body like a glove. Only around the hips it got a bit tight, but if he'd refrain from bending over it should be fine.

And it actually makes his ass look extra great, Dean has to admit. He snaps a quick picture of it and sends it to Cas because he can't help himself. Cas answers immediately with a long string of enthusiastic emojis that are both incredibly sweet, involving lots of hearts, as well as highly inappropriate and Dean loves him even more for it.

He makes a mental note to wear that suit the next time they'll be alone to see how fast the angel would be able to rip the clothes off his body and then he heads out to meet with Sam.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a jewelry store, with his tall mountain of a brother waiting at the entrance. He is dressed in fancy clothes as well and considering he left their motel room a few hours ago just with his usual plaid attire he obviously went shopping in the meantime. The suit doesn't fit a hundred percent in some places, making it obvious this was a rather quick shopping trip with no time for a proper fitting, but it makes him nonetheless look extra posh too.

“We look good,” Dean remarks with a grin as he stops next to Sam. “Like we could buy all of the world in a heartbeat and still have a couple of millions left as pocket money.”

Sam merely huffs with a fond smile. “If you say so.”

“So what is the situation?” Dean asks, pointing at the store.

“I just got a lead that our annoying spirit might have a connection to a wristband that's on display here,” Sam tells him. “It had belonged to her before she died. And I know it's not much, but I wanna check it out anyway.”

That specific spirit had been annoying them for days now because they were unable to figure out what kept her here in the first place. So Dean will take any lead they can get, no matter how small.

“I'm actually not very optimistic,” Sam explains with a sigh. “But our ghost is showing up here in the area, so it's not a total longshot. We just need to get inside and distract the employees a little.”

“Hence the fancy clothes.” Dean nods in understanding. He highly doubts they would've even gotten past the security guard on the door in their usual jeans. Most likely even their regular FBI suits wouldn't have been good enough.

“So we just go inside and one of us pretends to be a customer while the other subtly checks out that wristband?” Dean asks nonetheless.

Sam nods. “Don't worry, I have a plan.”

Dean blinks, but has no time for further questioning since Sam's already shoving him through the gigantic front door. He's instantly greeted with lots of bling and bright lights and the absolute perfect room temperature (like seriously, did they hire a guy just to keep a close eye on that the entire time?) before getting pushed to the main counter where a blonde woman with a way too wide smile happily waits to bury her flawlessly manicured nails into those new  potential buyers.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice as melodic and perfect as the air in the store. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, we've got an important purchase to make,” Sam announces, sounding all kinds of pompous. “Because you see, my brother here,” he grabs Dean's shoulders and grins at him with such an intensity Dean can't help feeling wary all of a sudden, “he intends to propose to his boyfriend.”

Dean blinks rapidly.

What?

Okay, Dean certainly didn't expect that.

The woman – Marlene, as her name tag tells them – seems taken aback by that for a moment as well, but she picks herself up much quicker than Dean. Her smile increases a few thousand watt while she turns toward the groom-to-be. “This is wonderful. Congratulations!”

Dean feels a bit like he's been hit right in the face, out of nowhere.

Thankfully he is actually used to unexpected violent attacks and has learned fairly early to deal with them.

“Um … thanks,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Marlene apparently misinterprets his awkward fumbling for adorable shyness or whatever and looks at him like she's ready to adopt him right here on the spot.

“You have to excuse him, this is still a bit much for him,” Sam leaps back into the conversation. “He's been thinking about this moment for years and I guess it might be a tad surreal that it's finally happening.”

“Really?” Marlene seems truly intrigued hearing that.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs way too dramatically, “Dean's basically been thinking about marrying Cas since the first moment they met.”

Well.

Actually his first meeting with Cas was more like Dean having a sudden realization á la, “Wow, he's hot!” and then stabbing the guy in the chest.

But Dean refrains from pointing that one out.

It might have ended in those people declaring them insane and kicking them out of the store. And though Dean is used to the first, he doesn't need the latter right now.

“Dean just wants everything to be perfect,” Sam points out, sounding exactly like a guy who is used to getting what he wants. “It's a big day.”

“It most certainly is,” Marlene agrees, dollar signs already flashing up in her eyes. “We have a vast collection of engagement rings and I'm sure we will find something to your liking.”

“Money is not the issue,” Sam says those magic words that make Marlene even more excited, so it seems. “The bigger and more extravagant, the better.”

Marlene smiles widens, appearing incredibly sweet and harmless on the surface. But Dean knows a predator focusing on its prey when he sees it.

On instinct he actually wants to take a step back and hide, but instead he gathers enough courage to meet her smile. It's still somewhat wobbly, but she probably blames it on his alleged nervousness about that big change in his life.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about your Cas?” she prods him. “What is he like?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, cursing him for having to endure this in the first place, before clearing his throat and responding, “He's … um, awesome.”

Way to go, Winchester.

She is certainly swooning on the spot.

Dean winces inwardly and forces himself to get a little bit more into his role. After all, he is used to the undercover life, so this shouldn't be too hard.

For a minute there he even considers to lie about Cas' personality, wondering whether that would make it easier to talk about him to a total stranger, but as he's just about to come up with some made-up character traits, he hears himself saying, “Well, to be fair, he's an asshole.”

Marlene looks at him in surprise while Sam in the background rolls his eyes.

“Uh … okay?” Marlene answers, clearly not sure how to reply to that.

“Cas is grumpy,” Dean goes on, now a fond smile flickering over his features. “I'm quite certain he is the biggest grump in the history of mankind, to be honest. And he's way too sassy for his own good. Also he has no idea how to clean up after himself and he always hums those annoying jingles he heard on the radio or whatever. All day. I'm actually surprised I haven't gone mad many years ago.”

Or maybe he has.

With his life, who could tell?

“But he's also a badass,” Dean continues, registering the only other employee who's been lacking any customers at the moment sliding closer with clear interest in her eyes. “No one should dare to screw around with him. And the few that actually did regretted it pretty quickly.”

That's, of course, an understatement actually, but he won't go into much detail now. For those poor women's sanity.

“And he cares, so much,” Dean goes on, an affectionate smile settling on his face when his thoughts drift closer to Cas. It's an automatic response at this point and he's pretty sure it'll stay like that for the rest of his life. “Even about that stupid little fly that got lost into our room a couple of weeks ago. It feels like we spent hours catching that thing and releasing it back into the wild. But what could you have done, you know? Cas would've been miserable if that fly would've died inside and that's something nobody wants to see. Believe me. He looks like a kicked puppy when he's sad.”

The salesladies scoots even closer, captivated by Dean gushing over his boyfriend. While Sam subtly starts to step back a little and check out the rest of the display, trying to locate the wristband of their obnoxious ghost.

Dean clears his throat, despite still feeling like he's been thrown into icy water without any warning whatsoever by his traitorous brother more than determined to play this role like their lives depend on it. After all, there here and they might not get a second chance.

So Dean gives it all he's got.

“So yes, Cas, he's great,” he says. “He's been my best friend for such a long time now and I … I guess I want him at my side for the rest of my life. And even beyond that.”

Dean smiles at the image of sharing his Heaven with Cas one day. It might be a hassle to get there at first – after all, Cas' relationship with his brethren is still not the best –, but Dean has no doubt that it'll come true eventually. Cas is way too much of a stubborn son of a bitch to not see this through.

Dean blinks as he suddenly realizes that he is in fact beginning to fantasize about Cas by his side forever as a real possibility.

Huh.

“As mentioned, we have a vast collection of engagement rings to help you start this new chapter of your life,” Marlene says with a happy sigh. “We would be more than happy to help you with your endeavor.”

Dean stares at her for a moment.

Oh right. Rings. The case.

“Yes, right,” he mutters, a slight blush on his face now. “It … it needs to be perfect.”

Marlene and her colleague – Amanda, as her name tag tells him – immediately spur into action and for the next ten minutes Dean sees himself confronted with a huge variety of different rings in all shapes and forms. A few are actually quite simple and elegant – silver bands with a couple of nice highlights – and some are seriously so over-the-top pompous and big Dean has no idea how a normal human being should be able to wear that on their hand.

But he smiles at them all and fakes such exaggerated interest both Marlene and Amanda seem to believe they're in Heaven themselves.

And it seems like a freaking eternity until Sam pops up next to him again.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he jumps right into their enthusiastic conversation. “My girlfriend just texted me. Her doctor's appointment ended way earlier than expected and I need to pick her up.”

A blatant lie, of course, considering Eileen is back at the bunker with Cas, probably getting her ass beaten in every single board game invented by the best of all strategists Heaven has ever produced.

“But don't worry, Dean will be back shortly,” Sam promises right away as both Marlene and Amanda look rather crestfallen at those news. “After all, Dean can't wait to get married.”

They bid hasty goodbyes and are soon enough back on the streets again.

“So, any luck?” Dean asks when he's starting to remember the real reason why they went into the store in the first place.

“I found the wristband,” Sam admits. “But there's no suspicious energy to it. It's just jewelry.”

“Damn,” Dean sighs. “Well, it was worth a shot, at least.”

“Yeah …”

“And that was one hell of a cover story, Sammy,” Dean can't help pointing out for some reason.

Sam shoots him a quick glance, something intense flickering over his features.

“It wasn't though, right?” he asks in the end. “A cover story, I mean. Not really, at least.”

Dean frowns. On first instinct he wants to deny that, just wants to scoff at his brother's face and get on with his life, but then he thinks about Cas and how nice he would look with a ring on his finger and he finds himself lowering his gaze to cover up the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh … well, maybe it wasn't really a cover story after all,” he admits, his voice low, yet steady.

“So you want to go back?” Sam wonders, a smile on his lips. “ Look at those rings again? When this case is over and everything.”

Dean blinks. A few of those rings actually did look kind of awesome, if he's honest with himself. And sure, they're pretty expensive, but also very durable (an important feature in their line of work), and Dean surely didn't lie when he said that Cas only deserves the best.

So he finds himself muttering, “Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind going back” and feels rather good about it.

Seems like Dean seriously has an important purchase to make after all.

#destiel #spnstayathome #fanfic #fic #drabble #fluff #established relationship #fanfiction: mine

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: One More

Intro: How much meaning can two words actually carry?

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW) No under 18s

Pairings: Steve Rogers and Katie Stark (Rogers)

A/N: So this was a little idea that came to me when a friend and I were drunkenly discussing how many things you could cover simply with the words “one more.” So, here we have it in a few different contexts…and one big one! And this edit, well, if doesn’t melt your heart then you don’t have one! Thanks @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

WARNING: If you are reading Stark Spangled Banner for the first time as it is being reposted and have not yet read it through then this contains MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!!

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 April 2026.

“James Anthony Samuel Rogers I swear to God you push your sister like that again and there’s no Baseball or Soccer practice for a month!” Steve glared at his son as he picked his 23 month old daughter up from the floor.

“She started it!” the 6 year old met his glare straight back.

“One more excuse, try me!” Steve glared at him, and he should have known better when all was considered as true to form his son took his words as a challenge.

“She smashed up my lego house!”

“Yeah, and you used to smash up our actual house when you were her age.” Steve pointed at him as Aurora buried her face into the crook of his neck, sobbing loudly. Steve gently shushed her as he looked down at Jamie “you’re bigger and stronger than she is, you don’t push her or hurt her in anyway, you got that? If she’s annoying you, you come find me or your ma.” Jamie looked up at his dad for a second, before he looked down, his wrong behaviour understood “Sorry Dad.” “It’s not me you should be apologising to.” Steve said, his voice softening slightly.

Jamie looked up, his blue eyes full of tears and Steve’s heart sank. He hated seeing his kids like this but he knew he had to tell them off when they misbehaved.

“Sorry Rori.” Jamie sniffed.

Rori turned her head to face him leaving a stream of snot and drool hanging from Steve’s shoulder as she eyed up her brother.

“MkayJay…” she sniffed and she leaned forward holding her arms out to him. Steve dropped her to the floor and she toddled across to his open arms and gave her elder brother a hug. Steve smiled as he watched them, despite the fact she bugged the crap out of him Jamie would do anything for his baby sister. Steve knew that.

He also knew that it was only fair Rori got chastised for her part in the argument. So he crouched down in front of them both and he looked at her.

“Aurora, you don’t touch Jamie’s toys unless he says you can ok?” he said to her, firmly but not angrily “You have enough of your own to play with.”

Or destroy as the case may be Her big green eyes, so like her mothers looked back and him and she nodded, looking down at the carpet, suitably chastised, her voice quiet “ok daddy” “Good girl.” He smiled, brushing her brunette hair off her face. When she looked back he was pleased to see both of them were smiling again. Crisis averted, discipline delivered… “Cookie?” Rori asked hopefully and Steve sighed. He and Katie had been hoping that she would have slightly less of an appetite than her brother but no. The serum was as much a part of her as it was him. He glanced at his watch and seeing it was almost 4:30 pm he knew Katie would be home any time and he had just started their dinner before world war 3 had broken out in the living room. So as far as cookies went he really shouldn’t… “One.” He relented “but you better eat your dinner. And don’t tell momma.” He held out his hand. Aurora slipped her small palm into his and they headed into the kitchen, Jamie following.

There were no more tantrums or arguments that evening, just a small plea from Jamie as he tried desperately  to avoid going to bed at his 9pm weekend curfew      “Just one more please Momma and then I’ll go to bed I swear” he said from his spot sat in between Katie’s legs in front of her on the piano stool. Katie sighed and looked at Steve who leaned in the doorway of the smaller lounge at the back of the house and cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows before he shrugged. “One more…” she relented and Jamie clapped his hands as she placed her fingers onto the keys of the piano in front of her, Jamie lying his hands on the top of his mom’s. He wasn’t interested in learning to play, not really. Baseball and soccer were his things, but he enjoyed this, the alone time with his momma and dad that the two parents tried to ensure each of their younger kids got fairly (Emmy being far too old for any of that ‘mushy shit’ now) Katie’s hands flew over the keys and her soft voice gently filled the room as she sang, Jamie joining in after giving her a little grin when he recognised what she was playing. “I wanna be where the people are I wanna see Wanna see ‘em dancing Walking around on those…”

She stopped playing and looked down at Jamie playfully “What do you call ‘em?” “Feet!” Jamie said, holding his leg up. Steve let out a soft smile at the display of playfulness and affection between his wife and son as Katie laughed and carried on with the song. Eventually they finished and without protest Jamie turned to his mom and placed his arms round her neck. “Night Momma. I love you.” “Love you too baby boy. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in when you’ve finished your story ok?” He jumped down from the bench and headed over to his dad who gently guided him out of the room with a large, gentle hand on the back of his head. As he turned to go he cast a look over his shoulder as Katie stood up, closing the lid on the American Walnut finished Bösendorfer 155 baby grand piano he had bought her for her 40th. She turned to face him, and shyly smiled in the same way she always did when she caught him looking at her the way he was right then, the expression on his face soft, conveying just how much he loved her and it still knocked her off her feet. “You’re beautiful.” He said softly as she brushed past him in the doorway. “Charmer” she smiled as he captured her lips in a soft kiss before giving her ass a friendly squeeze with both his palms before he headed off after Jamie for their usual bed time stories. A father-son routine that Steve hoped Jamie wasn’t gonna grow out of any time soon.

A story about 1920s Gangsters later Steve bid Jamie goodnight and strode over the landing to Rori’s bed room. He picked up the stuffed bear that had fallen out of her toddler bed and, tucking it in next to her, he straightened the covers around his daughter’s chin and dropped a kiss to her head.  “Sweet dreams Princess” he said, standing up and turning off the lamp, flicking the pony night light on. “You know when they’re in bed I actually understand why we had them.” He chuckled gently as he entered the kitchen where Katie was unloading the dishwasher. Katie laughed softly  “They’re good kids really.” “I know.” Steve’s arms circled her waist “What time is Emmy back?” “You told her midnight…so probably about 5 past.” she grinned. “She text me before, she’s fine. Pete took her to a burger joint and they were just about to go into the movies…” “Better not be on the back row” Steve grumbled. “She’s 18 Steve.” Katie laughed before she sighed. “They’re all growing up so fast” “You not fancy one more?” He asked, his nose brushing against her jaw. Katie stilled and turned her head to face him. “I’m 42, still carrying extra pounds from Rori. And trust me when I say after her birth, I have no desire to push a baby out of my vagina ever again” Steve laughed loudly, his head tipping back as he did so. “Just a thought” he said, kissing the side of her neck before he straightened up. “You fancy a glass of wine?” “Getting me drunk will not make me agree to having another baby…” Katie sly eyed him as he opened the wine chiller and pulled out a bottle of Sancerre. Steve rolled his eyes “That’s not what I was trying to do… I thought seeing as they’re asleep, its Friday…we could sit outside by the fire pit and take some us time. Maybe I can make some loving on my baby momma.” She smiled and slipped her arms round his waist, standing on her tip toes to give him a kiss. “Sounds perfect daddy, let me just go tuck Jamie in and I’ll be with you.” *****

June 2026

Steve looked at his wife, simply smiling as she talked. It wasn’t often they got out like they had done before the kids, but tonight they were out for a meal and a few drinks for her birthday. She looked stunning. Her hair was curled loosely, hanging to one side over her right shoulder, her eyes were highlighted even more by the light brown shimmer that sat on her lids and her lips were plump and glossed with a soft, almost neutral pink. It reminded him a lot of how she had looked on her first date. Similar, but yet slightly different. A bit like them really. They weren’t radically different but everything they had been through, seen, done, becoming parents…it had made them evolve in a way but Steve’s heart still burst with pride and lust and love whenever he looked at the woman sat in front of him. Yes she had changed physically over the years. Taught lines of muscle had given way to softer curves over her stomach and thighs, her hips were bigger- not much- but it only served to emphasise her small waist even more. The curve of her ass was more pronounced as was her chest, both of which Steve was more than happy about, especially tonight as they were emphasised even more by the tight black cut off capris she was wearing, low cut shimmering gold top and high heels that made her shapely legs look even more toned. And right now he was imagining them hooked around his shoulders… “Are you even listening to me?” She sat back, glass of crisp white wine in her hand, a teasing smile on her face. He looked beyond gorgeous. Short, dark beard flecked with grey, strands of his short hair also Iightening slightly. His black long sleeved sweater which although loose did nothing to hide his still ridiculously toned physique underneath. He was deep in thought, but relaxed, she could see that from the way he sat. His elbow was leaning on the table, chin resting gently in his hand, his fore and middle fingers making an L shape against his cheek as his thumb gently brushed against the beard underneath his chin. She raised her eyebrows silently requesting an answer and he took a deep breath, and cocked his head slightly more to the left, eyes crinkling even further as he suppressed a chuckle because he had been caught, red handed.  “Sorry baby I was just thinking.” “You were miles away.” She said softly, leaving forward “what’s going on Soldier” He loved how she still called him that. And right then it made him want to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless. He squirmed slightly and picked up his wine glass, leaving back in his chair “Just thinking about you, how lucky I am…how gorgeous you are…” his voice dropped as he arched an eyebrow “and the things I’m intending on doing to you tonight.” They headed to a bar and bumped into Marcus and his brother, Allan, two of the guys who had religiously attended Steve’s support groups pre and post snap. Marcus gleefully told then that his wife, one of the returned, was expecting their first baby, news which both Katie and Steve had greeted with congratulations and a bottle of Don Perignon As they chatted and laughed with their friends, Katie was very aware of how tactile Steve was being. A hand on her back, skimming her ass every now and then, squeezing her hip, soft kisses to her temple and cheek.. it was all driving her wild so after an hour or so in the bar, when he asked if she was ready for home she greeted him with an affirmative nod. He held out her jacket for her, hands skimming the bare skin on her shoulders making her shiver. They bid their friends goodbye and headed out, hand in hand to hail a cab. Katie stole a glance at her husband, the father of her children and a fire lit in her belly. She had never loved anyone as much as she loves him. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. But they accepted each others faults as much as they loved each others better traits. He was an affectionate and loving man, both with her and their kids. Firm but fair and never shied away from lavishing affection on any of them. And then, in the dimly lit back seat if that yellow New York cab as it headed over Brooklyn Bridge something stirred in both her heart and her mind. She leaned over to him and gently nuzzled her nose into his neck, breathing in his aftershave. He gave an involuntary shiver and moved his arm around her shoulder as her nose now moved over the short whiskers that adorned his jaw and cheeks up to his ear where she whispered. “One more…” He turned to her, his eyes shining as he looked at her, smiling softly. “You sure?” He asked, barely able to believe it. She placed a soft kiss to his lips and whispered into his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure.” It was all Steve could do to keep himself from jumping her there and then but somehow his will power held out. Once home, Emmy had simply raised her eyebrows when they had popped their heads into the lounge and told her and Peter not to stay up to late, and then rolled her eyes when Steve had pointedly told Peter the spare room was the 1st door on the right after you climbed the stairs. Closing the door to the lounge, Steve slung his wife over his shoulder causing her to giggle as he carried her upstairs, dropping her gently on her feet in the bedroom when she exclaimed she needed to pee. Steve shrugged off his sweater and was midway into undoing his trousers when she emerged from the bathroom, her pants in her hand, leaving her clad in just that delectable top and underwear. He felt his cock twitch at the sight of her almost naked ass and long legs. As she walked past, heading to the laundry basket in the corner of the room,  Steve looped both arms round her waist and pulled her discarded clothes from her hands, dropping them to the floor. He tugged her back into him, his hands gripping the hem of her top before he pulled it over her head, hands setting on her hips as she rolled her head back against his shoulder so he could lightly graze her skin with his lips.  Her hands gently moved between them as she undid the clasp on her bra and Steve slid the straps down, placing soft kisses to each of her shoulders causing her to shudder as he tossed that to the floor too. His palms flattened on her stomach as her arms slid up and connected round the back of his neck, pushing her chest up and he gave moan as he glanced down and saw her presented to him. One of his large hands crept into the front of her lace briefs, the other up to her chest, gently tweaking and playing with her as he saw fit, lips skating over her neck. “So beautiful…” he whispered and she moaned and writhed in delight at his praise and his actions as he worked her over “such a good girl for me…” Her head fell back even further into him as she let out a soft whimper of his name, his hands upping their pace slightly as she began to buck into his touch. She arched her back, her mouth fell open and then her head rolled forward as she came, knees trembling, her hands pulling at his hair. He held her up in his strong arms and whilst she was still in the after throws of bliss he nipped at her neck, drawing a soft groan from her mouth. “Gonna fuck a baby into you…” he said, lips hot on her ear “fill you up, see you all round with my child again…that what you want?” “Please…” she sighed, “Please put a baby in me, Daddy…”   His hands fell to her hips and he spun her round, lips crashing to hers almost bruisingly before he walked her backwards, her knees colliding with the bed as she fell back wards, Steve crawling over the top of her. His lips skated down from her mouth, to her neck, between the valley of her breasts and to her naval where his nose skimmed across the waistband of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the top and slid them down over her thighs, a hot kiss dropping to her ankle. His beard scratched her soft skin as he nipped his way up her leg, before setting his mouth to her. He licked, sucked, bit as she keened into him, her hands tangling into his hair as she writhed and groaned, trying but failing to keep her noise down. It wasn’t long before he’d gotten her there again and as she fell back, panting slightly he crawled over her, ridding himself of the remainder of his clothes as he did so. His hands placed either side of her head, he dropped his mouth to her ear and kissed just underneath before he whispered “I know you got one more in you baby…” as he pushed into her, the pair of them groaning at the sensation.

And she did. As he thrust into her powerfully, her hands skated up his arms to hi back, nails dragging down his skin. It was an assault on her senses, and as he continued to love her in a way only he could, the heat was rising again and she found herself teetering on the edge.

“That’s my girl…” Steve panted out as she arched her back and came again, this one leaving her utterly shattered. Steve wasn’t far behind her, releasing inside of her before they both collapsed, utterly boneless and melted completely into the bed beneath them. Her hands gently tangled into his hair and he lazily picked his head up and gave her a soft kiss, his nose rubbing up against hers.

“I love you baby girl.” he said softly, lips pressing against hers.

“Love you too…” she whispered into his mouth.

***** February 2027 Katie glanced down at the small, white stick in her hands. She inhaled sharply as she glanced at the result and tears filled her eyes as she stood up from the toilet where she had been sat on the lid, waiting for those precious last few seconds to pass.

Her mind strayed to the conversation they had held on Christmas eve little over 6 weeks prior…

“You know… it’s kind of ironic” Katie sighed as she nestled into Steve further, her head on his chest as the arm round her gently traced shaped on her side, under her jumper. “What is?” He asked, although he had a feeling he knew what was wrong. She sat up and looked at him, her eyes sad. “We’ve been trying for our little one more ow for 6 months. Doing everything right and…” she took a deep breath “maybe I just can’t anymore. I’m sorry Steve” “Hey.” He frowned, shifting so he was looking at her as she blinked, trying to stop the tears from falling “You have nothing to apologise for.” “I just know how much you wanted this and…” “Stop.” He said almost sternly as he gently cupped her face in his hands “we already have 3 beautiful kids. I don’t want you feeling like this” He hated it. Hated the fact he felt like he had backed her into this in a way. She was feeling inadequate and she was anything but. “I wish you’d told me you felt like this sooner.” He said softly, and she shrugged as he pulled her face to meet his in a soft, tender kiss. “One more try.” He rest his forehead against hers, his decision made “One more month and we forget it. I’m not having you feeling like this anymore baby. I love you too much to see you hurting ok?” She nodded and smiled gently, her hand reaching up and her fingers gently scratching through his beard. He closed his eyes and then her lips were on his, pulling him down on top of her on the couch, the movie on the tv completely forgotten as they lost themselves in each other again, moans and sighs filling the softly lit room.   No more tries. “Honey?’ Steve called later that evening, his keys dropping to the table in the hall as he greeted their now, very elderly dog, before he headed into the kitchen. She was sat at the table, eating dinner in between watching Aurora feed herself. Jamie was tucking into his food with gusto as both kids beamed at their daddy who greeted them both in turn. “Hi.” Katie smiled softly at him, taking the kiss he offered on her cheek “dinner is in the oven” “Sorry I’m late.” He said “ the faculty meeting went on a bit longer than I thought and then we got caught discussing the next semester…” “Steve it’s fine.” She assured him, taking a drink of her soda, eyes still on her fiercely independent daughter who probably had more spaghetti round her face than in her stomach. “How was your day son?” He asked once he had grabbed his plate and settled into the seat next to him at the oak table. “Ok.” Jamie shrugged. “Ok?” Katie looked at him “more than ok sweetie, tell your dad what you got in class!” “Oh I got the class weekly gold star for my art” he said, excitement flooding his tone. “No way!” Steve beamed at him, he loved the fact his son had inherited his talent “for the sketch you did of the planets?” Jamie nodded as he smiled. “Proud of you buddy” he said, ruffling his hair as Jamie’s grin at his fathers praise practically split his face in half. A few hours later both kids were in bed, they’d skyped Emmy who was just getting ready to go to a party in one of the dorms, something Steve wasn’t feeling all too comfortable about, and were heading up to bed. Steve was just about to make his way into the bathroom for a shower when Katie stopped him. “I have something to tell you.” She said softly before she opened the drawer at the side of her bed and with a sigh she pulled out the test. Steve felt his heart sink as she turned around and held it out to him. “Baby don’t be upset.” He said softly, as he took it, giving it a cursory glance “we agreed that if it didnt…” He trailed off and looked again. 2 blue lines. 2. “Oh my…shit.. Katie…” he looked up at her, his face shocked before he gave out a splitter of a laugh and grabbed her hips, swinging her up in the air. She laughed as he set her in her feet, giving her a soft kiss “You sure?” He asked, wanting to believe it but not daring to at the same time “Maybe you should do one more to be sure?” With a smirk she turned and reached into the drawer and began to toss test after test on the bed. 10 in total, including the one still in Steve’s hand. “Way ahead of you there soldier” “You’re incredible…” he said, tossing the plastic stick onto the bed and pulling her closer “My fucking incredible…” kiss “amazing…” kiss “ gorgeous” kiss “baby momma…” This time when his lips met hers she wrapped her arms round his neck and held him in place whilst she kissed him hard, deep, passionate before she pulled away, her fingers felt tracing his t-shirt clad chest “you mentioned something about a shower…” Grinning his hands slid under her ass and she laughed as he hauled her up, legs wrapping round his waist as he walked them into the en-suite.

***** May 2027 Steve woke first that morning. Gently pressing a kiss to Katie’s cheek he left her asleep, climbing out of the bed and heading into the bathroom. Once he’d seen to his bladder, he pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and headed out onto the landing.

He poked his head into Jamie’s room first, and his son grinned at him as he turned his eyes from the TV onto his father. Lucky jumped down from is spot on Jamie’s bed and headed over to Steve for an ear scratch.

“Morning buddy.” Steve looked at his son.

“Morning dad…you making breakfast?” Food, as always the first thing on his mind.

Steve nodded and Jamie scrambled out of bed, following him as he next headed to Rori’s room. She was still asleep so he left her to it. Finally he knocked on Emmy’s door and she told him to come in.

“Hey…” he frowned as he saw her on her bed, surrounded by text books “its early Sunday…you got work to do?”

“Studying.” She grumbled.

“Ok well, take a break yeah? I’m gonna start breakfast”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” She hummed at him and he nodded, closing the door.

Steve opened the back door to let Lucky out whilst Jamie sat at the table with a yawn as Steve set the coffee going and poured Jamie an orange juice.

“Thank you.” He said as he set it down in front of him “Dad?”

“Yeah pal?”

“What was Momma asking you for one more of last night?”

Oh…fuck…

Steve felt himself go bright red, as he could clearly remember exactly what Katie had been begging him for more of.

“Erm…” he turned away, cursing inwardly as he glanced around desperately trying to think of an answer Jamie would buy. “I…er….” he reached into the cupboard for the bread, and then the answer suddenly hit him in the face

“Chocolate!” He practically exploded as his eyes fell on the jar of spread.

“Chocolate?” Jamie cocked his head to one side as Steve turned to face him. “In the middle of the night?”

“Yeah well, you know the baby makes her want it…like you made your mom want peanut butter and Rori made her want strawberries, this time she wants chocolate”

“Oh.” He said, nodding “Ok. Did you give her some?”

Steve was thankful that his son couldn’t see his face as he threw 4 slices of bread in the toaster. Pressing his lips together to try and stop the smirk on his face, because he had indeed given her some, so to speak, before he turned and nodded.

“Yup.” He said “Sure did…”

August 2027 “One more baby.” Steve urged, his wife’s hand tightly gripping his right, his left brushing her hair back off her face “One more honey, you got this.” With a loud yell and a final, almighty effort she sagged back on the bed as a piercing cry hit their ears. “You did it…” Steve said, his eyes welling up “I’m so proud of you, Darlin’, you did it…” She laughed through her tears as their baby was placed on her chest, cries giving way to soft wimpers which turned into those familiar nickering noises babies make as their newest addition pressed into his momma, pink and wrinkled, brown hair spattering his head, his eyes the same shape and colour as his fathers, but the Stark nose stood out clearly, just as it did with Jamie. Their little one more, Henry Steven Rogers, Harry for short, opened his eyes for the first time to reveal a shock of baby blue and Steve felt his heart swell even more. Out of all their kids he had been the easiest to name. Henry chosen by Steve, Steven picked by Katie, Harry agreed upon by both. There was no 3rd name. They didn’t have one they liked or felt drawn to and besides, in Katie’s eyes he didn’t need one, because his fathers was worth two. Something which had made Steve’s eyes fill with emotion when she had told him that. Harry was measured, weighed and returned to his father wrapped in a soft blue blanket as Steve preened over his latest progeny, another male to carry the Rogers name down the line. Eventually he began to fuss and was handed to his mother for his first feed, Steve settling in their bed, arm round Katie as he watched his son’s cheeks work hungrily. “I love you” he said gently, tilting Katie’s face round to his, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you too..” she smiled before they both looked down at their baby as he suckled on his mothers breast, tiny hand shaped in a fist which rest against her exposed skin. Steve gently traced his youngest son’s cheek with his finger, his chest felt like it was going to explode with emotion. After a few hours of being on their own with their baby boy, Katie having been cleaned up and Harry settled and changed and fed again, the peace of their hospital room was shattered. “There really should only be 4 visitors…” Steve heard the nurse say as the door hovered open a few inches. “Oh come on, what’s one more?” Sam’s voice pleaded. She must have acquiesced as the door opened further and their eldest and second eldest shot into the room, followed by Sam and Buck with their now second youngest held on his hip. “Oh Mom!” Emmy gushed, her large brown eyes shining as she looked down at her baby brother in her mothers arms whilst the men were exchanging back slaps and hugs “he’s beautiful” “Course he is” Steve replied, taking Rori and walking her to the bed so she could look at her baby brother “Your mom made him” Katie smiled up at Steve “You had something to do with it…” “The enjoyable bit.” We winked as Emmie moaned

“Gross..” Jamie climbed up onto the bed, his mum gently pushing down the blanket so he could see Harry’s face clearly. The sun was peeking through the blinds, the room was loud and crowded as their older kids aged 19, 7 and 3, and their friends- their brothers- took turns to hold and meet the newest addition to the Rogers family. Steve dropped a kiss to Katie’s head, the pair of them sharing a deliriously happy look.

“Thank you.” Steve said, resting his head against hers. “Thank you for this one more and for making me the happiest man alive”

#stark spangled forever #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #chris evans #chris evans characters

[dailyandrewandaaron]

For Alice 

Andrew minyard had run the Teapot cafe with his twin brother Aaron for years it was a ramshackled place but it made ends meet with a small army of dedicated regulars. Andrew did not like most people but they who made their way into their little cafe and kept coming back for more time after time those people he didn't mind being with. If he were feeling sentimental, he may even say he was found of them. They were people who needed a place to be. Andrew was not a cheery or welcoming person by nature  but nevertheless  he sometimes always seemed to know exactly what  the people who came into their cafe needed

Andrew always remembered the orders of all his regular customers. The old ladies who want cinnamon buns, the builders who order bacon baps and black coffee the mums who order tomatoes on toast. The men who remembered the time before the smoking ban when they were allowed to smoke inside, students who stumble in hungover the little ones drawn in by the display of comical teapots in the window who would pester until they got a chocolate milkshake, the people who say this was the only place in that wasn't fancy and mean that as a compliment. Andrew remembered them all and what their favourite order was.

Aaron did all the cooking of course.  There was no one else Andrew would trust with this. Aarons food was not ambitious  the recipes were simple staples  but those who were loyal the teapot cafe liked it that way and didn’t want it to change .His brother would stay in kitchen mostly while Andrew took orders and brought the food . On the rare occasions he did venture out the old ladies would tease him good naturedly and make him retreat  again leaving Andrew to wonder how on earth he ended up as the most social one of the two.

Neil josten  had come in to the café for the first time  late in day a few weeks back to escape the rain. The place looked closed and empty but the lights were still on. Are you shut "neil asked finding a scowling blonde man blocking his path as he tried to enter

"not yet but you should hurry up if you want to come in" neil was intrigued by the mostly silent unsmiling figure and decided to take a chance on the place. He sat down. "you havent been here before" the man said making it sound like an accusation.

"I work late I don't usually have time”

The scowler clocked him waiting  and watching him clean "order at the counter" he barked Andrew did not like newcomers. They disrupted things they didn't know the rules.

He had pegged Neil josten as someone who would come only once. Andrew assumed he was the type who found his manner too abrupt and their menu too simplistic and would become a frequent visitor of one of the more upmarket restaurants instead. Andrew was usually right about these things but in this case he wasn't

Neil went up there but at first there was no one there although he could hear someone singing quietly along to the radio in the back.

"Aaron" the blonde barked "customer!"

"what do they want?" a voice called out

"I don't know" Andrew yells back

"Huh?" another person came up to the front. Neil was surprised the man looked very similar to the first man. He in turn seemed equally shocked to see Neil. "oh. You're new" 

neil looked confused “ is this a members thing or something”

"No but usually the same people come in" he says" and they order the same thing so Andrew usually knows what they want " he explained

"I see" neil said "are you brothers" he asked

"twins" said the first man and then with a rare cheek added "but I'm better looking. That's why he stays in the kitchen

Aaron huffed and got him back with a "we're finished serving hot food for today" Andrew sent his brother a deadly look. "-but we do breakfast" he finished somewhat nervously

"early" Andrew put in "im Andrew"

"I'm -" aaron started

"you could get a drink" Andrew interrupted

"I'll come back"

He won't Andrew had thought at the time.

But he did come back again the next day. And every day that week. The same order. Full English breakfast. No black pudding no baked beans no white bread tea no sugar.

Soon neil josten with the deep blue eyes and the aversion to baked beans was a regular at their café and if Andrew was a bit too glad of a bout outcome well he didn’t have tell anyone . yet. Besides, he had bigger problems than that , like how his chef and brother had taken a shine to a certain girl in a pink dress who had started to come in for tuna mayo baguettes at lunch time for instance…

#andrew minyard #aaron minyard #neil josten #aftg #My writing #based on an actual cafe in my town #cafe twins yes #neils order is what i always get #the guy there knows #christmas exchange fic

[clydesgod]

‘the 9th layer’

Feat. Richard, and, another person

(A more relaxed drabble now, featuring Richard’s favourite bar and his favourite barkeep.)

TW: Alcohol, light sexual themes

——————————————–

Trodding along the wet pavement, Richard hobbled through the street and made a turn towards a little alleyway. The alleyway wasn’t inhabited. In fact, there were a few small shops and bars thrown about. He kept moving on though, not really caring about them. It wasn’t like he went to those ones at all anyway. He had only one place on his mind, after all.

‘The 9th layer’, the most decent bar in this city.

Upon entering the little room, Richard took off his leather jacket and hung it up on the wide array of hooks in front of him. Looked like it was just him today. Good, he sorta liked it that way when it wasn’t loud. He made his way past a small curtain and into the main area of the bar where there were cushioned stools lined up against the main bar area, with little seating areas being them in case you didn’t at all fancy sitting so close to there. It was amazing how well this place was doing despite the lack of space.

Richard took a seat near the bar, pulling the chair out and dragging it across the floor to indicate to the bartender that he was in and waiting for a drink. A little bit rude, sure, but Richie knew how much Mattias didn’t like being yelled at.

Swiftly, a latch opened up from behind the bar, and a skinny, but tall figure came out of it. He was climbing on a ladder, and struggled a bit upon getting out. Nothing to worry about though, it happened a lot to him.

Whilst Richard was gray, Mattias was almost entirely purple. Some parts of his face and body had patches that were lighter than the rest. His ears were long and pointed and his eyes were black, except for his irises, which were red. He was wearing a nice white shirt, with a dated but stylish waistcoat and striped pants. He was probably wearing suspenders under there too. Upon leaving the hatch and closing it, he stood all the way up without bending his back forward. He had to be at least 7’4’, though his horns made him look 4 inches taller. He had some hair, though it was rather short and slicked back. He had a very tiny goatee as well, one that looked barely noticeable if you were looking at him from afar.

“The usual please, Matti.” Richard asked, resting his elbows and forearms against the bar as he leaned on over. He looked at the wide array of spirits he had on display too. He began to wonder if anyone actually asked for those, he never saw Mattias turn around to take one from it’s slot. Was it just for decoration?

Mattias made a noise of agreement and got to work, taking out a clean glass from below, spinning it so the open end was on the top, and placed it against a tap that was labeled ‘Asahi’. He began to pour, not making any noise as he stared straight into the golden, frothy liquid that was pouring out.

Richard stared along at it too, loving the way he poured drinks. Was there even a style to that? He didn’t really consider if bartenders and mixologists had their own way of pouring stuff.

“Y’know,” Richard began, readjusting himself on his stool as he spoke. “I was thinking about getting into mixology myself. Seems fun to do.”

“...very good.” Mattias replied, eyes hardly connecting with Richard’s as he turned off the tap and placed the beer right in front of Richard, making sure it was on a coaster provided so it wouldn’t ruin the bar he had just cleaned.

Richard wasted no time, reaching for it and promptly taking a casual first sip. It was refreshing, especially after a long day at work. ‘Must’ve been hard to Mattias,’ he wondered. Mainly because he hardly ever saw Mattias outside of his work place, except for bumping into him in the local store. He was calm, a man of few words.

“Aaaah. Lovely pint as always. My compliments to the barkeep.”

“...thank you.”

...Maybe a man of too few words. Things got awkward pretty quick. He took a rag and started to clean an empty glass to pass the time, he didn’t like leaving customers alone.

Richard took another swig, tapping a finger on the bar.

“So...you er, done anything fun today?”

“...not really.”

“Seen any new films?”

“...no.”

“...err...has Vitalis been in here today? I haven’t seen him.”

“...apologies, I have not.”

“...Y’know, I met a guy wayyyyyyyyy taller than you recently. Dude was like, 9 foot something. He was cool.”

“...very interesting mr Clydesgod.”

“...”

“...”

“...So how’s your lady friend Nessa then?”

Mattias froze, almost dropping his glass as a light pink hue appeared on his face. He looked over at Richard, his calm demeanour ceasing to exist.

“We-She is NOT my lady friend,” He replied, his accent finally revealing itself. He sounded Eastern European, from the Baltics if Richard remembered correctly. “She is just a customer who visits and runs her mouth a bit. She pays well, unlike you.”

“By running her mouth do you mean she’s helping you out?~ Common is she under there or somethin’?” Richard asked, attempting to lean over to view under the bar until Mattias pushed Richard’s shoulders back down, firmly onto the stool.

“You little...ugh, why do you always have to come here and act like such a twerp? I’ve dealt with annoying teens before but you’re somehow just, worse.” Mattias went back to cleaning his glass, placing it down below by simply squatting.

“It’s just nice to hear your voice after all. It’s so deep, no wonder the ladies go CRAZY for it.” He laughed, taking a rather bigger swig this time. “Man. Why do you gotta be so scared of milfs all the time?”

“Stop. Saying. That damn word!” The purple demon replied, gritting his teeth as he resisted the urge to throw a glass at him. “It’s not my fault people come here to pay attention to me! I’m only here to provide drinks and let the customers have their own fun. Not to get dragged into dates. Not like I can go on any. Work takes too much time.”

Richard scoffed.

“Hire someone then. Go get, like, 2 bartenders, so you can go out on the town and score some points with the hot older ladies,” He took another big swig, almost finishing his drink already. “What are you scared of anyway? Most ladies here seem to take a shine to you anyway, they leave the most tips!”

“It’s...complicated you lollakas,” He replied, turning around to make sure all the spirits and hard liquors were well organized. “I’ve got the bar to manage, little Uno to feed, taxes to do, myself to feed, a bunch of other stuff I cannot care less for. I don’t have enough time to get into a silly little relationship at the current moment.”

“...At the current moment?~” Richard asked, an eyebrow rising. Mattias’ blush simply grew bigger.

“S-shut-you. Ugh. Sa tapad mu,” He muttered, going back to organizing everything before he closes up. He looked behind, seeing Richard finishing his glass. “Don’t bother asking for another, you need to pay for this week and, besides, I’m closing up for the night.”

“Why’d you think I came then?” Richard replied, reaching behind and taking out a wallet. He rummaged around for a bit, taking out quite a lot of money and holding it out towards him. Mattias gave Richard a strange look, but took the money anyway. He counted it all, flicking through each note rapidly and taking a mental note of the total sum. Once worked out, he began to take some of the notes away.

“Hey, keep the change,” Richard replied, getting off of the stool and stretching. “Oof, that was a fine glass. I’ll see you around tomorrow Matti.” He started to walk off, waving behind at his favourite barkeep.

Mattias said nothing, simply staring and huffing before moving to the register and depositing the cash inside of it. There went his favorite patron. Well, maybe not his most favourite. There was Nessa-

He shook his head, taking Richard’s glass and placing it into a glass washer nearby. He checked his watch, it was Uno’s feeding time in a bit. Poor tortoise. He wondered if he could even realize how much work he did so the poor creature wouldn’t starve.

He sighed, turning on the glass washer and stretching his arms to the sides as to not knock anything over.

...Maybe he’d give Nessa a call tonight...

#{lore} #{dyn gafr🐐 : Richard Clydesgod} #{man of many words🍺 : Mattias Pärn} #// :3c #// tw: alcohol #{nsfw implied cw}

[katedrakeohd]

Wacky Drabbles #52

this week’s prompt: Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help.

Wacky Drabblers: @ao719 @axwalker @bbrandy2002 @bebepac @bitchloveskcbaseball @blackcatkita @bobasheebaby @burnsoslow @dcbbw @debramcg1106 @doriansapprentice @drethanramslay @emceesynonymroll @everythingchoices @flutistbyday2020 @jessiembruno @katedrakeohd @kingliam-rys @losingbraincellseveryday @loveellamae @lucy-268 @oofchoices @openheart12 @pedudley @ravenpuff02 @romanticatheart-posts @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty  @storyofmychoices @texaskitten30 @utterlyinevitable @wackydrabbles @walkerswhiskeygirl

..

What happens in Paris....(stays with us forever) (part 1)

TRR book 2:

Drake × MC (Kate Darling)

The lights of Paris twinkle in the warm summer air as Drake and I walk arm in arm back to the train. Between the bachelor party and the drinking game at the dive bar I've had way too much whiskey. Drake is definitely more relaxed, and every now and then I catch him wearing a little smile when he glances my way.

It's been an emotional few days for both of us. In my mind I'm worried about who may still be plotting against me. Bastien and Penelope are the last people I'd have suspected. Bastien is supposed to play a protective role at court.  Who could be so threatened by me that they'd hire Bastien to smear my name in the press? Meanwhile Bertrand had been trying to discredit me and cause more scandal by selling Maxwell's scrapbook photos to a tabloid. How can he have so little faith in me? If those photos had gone public it would have been worse for Liam, and tainted the whole social season before it had even begun.

And then we found out that Maxwell has been hiding Savannah's whereabouts this whole time from Drake. And he's been secretly stealing Beaumont money to support her. Sure he felt his intentions were honorable because he was helping his nephew and respecting Savannah's privacy, but to see Drake every day and hide his own sister from him still hurts. Plus finding out that Bertrand had callously brushed Savannah aside as not being worthy, stung me too and she's not even my sister. No wonder Drake hates nobles and all their pretentiousness and lies.

Drake and I don't know who we can trust anymore. But at least we have eachother. I know he wants to be with me, and I want to be with him too. Although at this point we don't know what kind of relationship we can safely have together. 

Even though Drake had been invited to Liam's bachelor party at the fancy speakeasy as his best friend, he knew he didn't really fit in. I'm glad I was able to be there with him so he wouldn't be the only non-noble at the party. He looked so handsome in his blue jacket and green dress shirt. In the smoky, uber masculine atmosphere of the club with a whiskey in his hand he had looked so sexy too. And being there with him in that black cocktail dress and knowing that he appreciated how good I looked, was a thrill all by itself. If only he and I could have been there on a date instead of a spy mission. 

Although he had tried so hard not to look at all of my exposed skin during the drive in the limo, with every move I made or every time he had to interact with me, I knew he was having a hard time trying to hold himself together. If Maxwell hadn't been there, he would have been all over me for sure. Just like yesterday after we had returned from Savannah's apartment. Granted it had been me who had initiated the brief makeout session, but I couldn't help myself after spending the afternoon with him. We had been riding the emotional high of finding Savannah safe, and discovering that Drake was an uncle.

Ever since I returned to court after the coronation, Drake has been by my side to protect me. And little by little he's been opening up and letting me into his life. I feel safer around him than among all the nobles who have been scheming against me. Even Liam is being openly duplicitous by smiling next to Madeleine for the press, and then seeking out my company in private. Though he and Madeleine have an arrangement as far as I'm concerned, he's still lying to his subjects about their engagement. I'm definitely not comfortable being thought of as his mistress.

In the few moments that Liam and I have had together in private, he's made it plain how much he loves me. And trust me he's quite easy to love back, with his charm, good looks and romantic ways. I'm not going to lie and say I don't care for him, because I do, but loving him comes with a price. No matter what, as a King, his duty to his country comes first. Marrying him comes with a crown and country attached. Sure I can be polite and diplomatic when I have to be, but the idea of being queen scares me. Madeleine can have the crown all she wants, she knows how to be Queen, but I worry about Liam's happiness. 

The more time I spend with Drake though, the more I really don't want to be a noblewoman at all. Despite my love for Cordonia with its unique customs and Mediterranean climate, it's such a breath of fresh air compared to New York, until this scandal is resolved and the media stops blaming me for making Liam's Coronation so controversial; I feel like everyone is staring at me and talking about me.

I wish Drake and I could just run away from all of this and never look back, but we can't.

When we arrive back at the train, Drake walks me back to my compartment. Suddenly being so close to him in the narrow passage is overwhelming and my palms are sweating.  I fumble to work the latch on my door, and can't get it to open.

I can feel his eyes on me as he leans his shoulder against the wall beside me. "Having trouble there, Darling?" he says, in a low tone, his words slightly slurred.

Wiping my hand on the curve of my hip, I can hear a change in his breathing as he steps in behind me. 

"Let me help. These doors can be tricky sometimes, with all the jostling of the train cars."  His breath is hot on the back of my neck, and smells of whiskey. I find myself teetering on my heels and leaning back against the broad wall of his chest.  He reaches around me to put his hand on the door latch, and his other hand braces on my hip to hold me upright. 

"Woah there, Darling. You really are a lightweight when it comes to your whiskey aren't you?"

I giggle self consciously as I hear his soft grunt in my ear, his strong hand easily turning the latch and forcing the door open. He nudges me forward and follows me into my room. Stepping back he leans against the doorframe, watching me kick off my heels and sit down on the edge of the bed.

"So, uh. I guess this is goodnight then." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to avoid looking at me. 

It's now or never. I either invite him to stay, or let him shuffle off on his own. 

 I know he shares a compartment with Maxwell, who's not exactly his favorite person right now, and I feel sorry for him. "Thanks for sticking up for me back at the party." I say quietly, not wanting him to leave yet.

He steps back into the hall, his hand going to the door latch to pull the door closed. "Yeah, uh you're welcome." He grins sheepishly, "Thanks for stopping me from making a bigger ass of myself. Oh fuck, If I'd hit Bertrand…"  He heaves a sigh, puffing out his cheeks as he breathes out and rubs at the frown on his forehead.

Getting up from the bed I walk over to him, "Hey, I understand. I would have been pissed too. But yeah, hitting him in front of everyone would have been really bad."

He punches the doorframe and then leans his forehead against his fist, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. "It..all..just..makes..me..so..mad." he grounds out, his chest heaving.

Placing my hand on his arm, I can feel how wound up he is, his muscles feel like stone under the fabric of his jacket. Now I know I can't let him be alone. 

"Drake, look at me." I say quietly.

"I can't," he whispers, turning his head to face out into the hall.

Tugging at his arm with both hands, I pull him off balance and he stumbles into my room and I slide the door shut and lock it. Regaining his footing, he stands there, fists clenched and stares me down as I bar the door with my body. "Okay, not funny. Let me out." he grumbles. 

I shake my head, crossing my arms across my middle, deliberately making them a shelf for my breasts. The motion isn't lost on Drake, and I catch him looking down at the way my cleavage is on full display behind the black mesh insert of my dress. He quickly looks away, blushing, and starts to pace back and forth like a caged animal.  His long legs eat up the tiny space in only a couple of strides per trip. I can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears, as he continuously rakes his hair back from his forehead.

"You can work yourself up all you want, Drake. But I'm not letting you out of here to take out your frustrations on destroying the interior of the royal train, or to drown your anger at the bottom of a bottle. Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help."

He stops and looks at me, with a devilish smirk on his face, "And if I try to force my way out of here?"

I raise my chin in defiance as he steps over to me, placing his hands on either side of the doorframe and looking down at me in an attempt to intimidate me. "I'll scream." I say, not scared in the least.

His eyebrows shoot up, and now it's him that looks worried. "You wouldn't dare!" 

I undo the button on his jacket, and slide my hands up the front of his shirt stopping them to rest on either side of his neck, his skin feels so hot to my touch. "You need an emotional outlet Drake. Let me help you with that."

/ the second part here

#wacky drabbles

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Two

With the odd little redhead sorted, James sends him off to get them coffee and pastries. It’s a ploy, and a blatant one at that. But M’Baku has never been one to turn down the opportunity to go to Bag End Bakery. 

The place was a wonderland of sights and smells, the big glass case in the center of the room dominating the space and drawing the eye. Inside, there were gold cut outs laid in neat rows, doilies on top of them to display whatever delicacies that Bilbo has come up with. 

And the smell. God, don’t get him started about the smell of the place. It was like walking past the gates of Heaven itself and taking a whiff. Sugar and cinnamon hung lightly in the air and still found the way to tickle your nose and stick to your tongue. The smell of freshly roasted coffee was a strong noted counterpart. It made you want to sit down and stay awhile. 

Then again, the place could have legos all over the floor and the most uncomfortable, flimsy metal chairs and M’Baku would still want to stay. 

Love made fools of us all. 

He steps inside, ducking a little so he doesn’t knock his forehead against the bell hanging there, and breathes in deep. Yes, this was as close to Heaven as he was going to get. As evidenced by the angel behind the show case who was smiling at him as he wiped the flour from his hands and onto his apron. 

“Hello.” Bilbo has a lovely, smooth voice. Like heavy cream. He steps up to the counter, and M’Baku can see the way he’s fighting the smile at his lips. Fools of us all, indeed. “What can I get for you today?”

M’Baku didn’t have a regular order. There were too many delicious looking delicacies in that case to settle for any one of them, no matter how delicious they were. Now his coffee? That was the same every single time. An easy order, too. A medium roast, with cream and two sugars. Though sometimes the holidays got the best of him and he’d order something with pumpkin or peppermint. 

But at the moment, M’Baku wasn’t thinking about his coffee order (or James’. Sorry, brother.) or even the wide array of sweets laid out under bright lights that were calling to his grumbling stomach. No, M’Baku was thinking about a book he’d picked up in the store last night when they were cleaning up. 

It had been left out on the edge of the shelf, one of the pages inside dog eared. The dust jacket had been lost since before they had ownership of it, as evidenced by the price sticker right against the cover of the book. 3.99. Not exactly a best seller. 

They got a few loiterers, but neither M’Baku nor James had ever gotten the urge to run anyone off. Hell, they had two overstuffed leather chairs that were kept in front of the big frosted glass front window of the shop. The lighting was fantastic there. So long as people left their coffees from Bilbo’s on the table or the windowsill, they could sit and read for as long as they wanted. 

But this book had caught M’Baku’s eye. Because the person reading it hadn’t made themselves comfortable in a chair in the sunshine. They’d stayed behind a book shelf to read. Clandestine. What sort of fantastic smut had they found in a bargain bin book on a back shelf?

So he did exactly what his mystery reader did. M’Baku stood right there in the aisle and went to the dog eared page to see what all the fuss was about. But what he found wasn’t old white woman smut, or even the strange kind of bondage that seemed to be all the literary rage these days. 

No, M’Baku found a story in the throes of love and passion, a woman drawing her husband’s bored eyes to her again by bringing him into the kitchen. With an array of fresh fruit and melted chocolate. 

He must have read the line about the woman watching her husband bite into a luscious, white chocolate covered strawberry a dozen times. And then he slipped a fiver into the cash register and put the book into his bag to take home. 

What can I get for you today? M’Baku blinks back to the present and away from the thought of sweet fruit juce spilling on a willing tongue. “Well.” His laughter is a quiet thing, and a sheepish thing. James would be doubled over with laughter if he knew what M’Baku was about to do. Like the kind of laughter that would make your stomach muscles hurt for a few hours afterwards. 

James could laugh all he wanted. M’Baku was a man on a mission. 

The little redhead was what switched this thought from fantasy to reality. If she could walk into their shop, see a picture of John Luther on the wall and decide she wanted him enough to make a deal, then M’Baku could take a walk down their little cobble stone street to his friend’s bakery and make a play for what he wanted. 

“Do you work with chocolate much?” That’s probably a stupid question. And the confused smile Bilbo gives him just confirms it. There are drizzles of chocolate across a few of the pastries in the case, right at M’Baku’s eye level. This was off to a great start. 

“When I have the time.” It takes M’Baku a second to realize that Bilbo isn’t laughing at him. He’s laughing at himself. (It helped, knowing he wasn’t the only nervous one here.) “I’m no chocolatier by any stretch of the imagination, but I do like to try new things.”

Well. A man couldn’t get a better opening than that, now could he? “Could you show me how to dip fruit in chocolate?” He’s very particular about how he asks. Because M’Baku doesn’t just want to buy chocolate dipped fruit from Bilbo. He wants to be a part of the process. 

Bilbo looks at him for a long moment, thinking it over. M’Baku watches in pleased surprise as he puts the ‘back in an hour’ sign on top of the glass case and gestures him behind the counter with a crooked finger. “We can put a little something together. It won’t be especially, fancy but you’ll get the gist of it.”

“That’s all I need.” M’Baku steps behind the counter, and follows Bilbo over to the sink, standing shoulder to...top of the head next to Bilbo as they wash their hands beneath the warm torrent of water, bubbles swirling around the basin of the sink before they slip down into the drain. He forgets sometimes, how small Bilbo actually is. There was something about being on the other side of the counter that made him seem larger. Like his authority was some kind of a step stool.

“Right.” Bilbo claps his hands together with a quick burst of sound, looking down at the ingredients laid out on the counter top between them. There were two metal bowls, a pot, a cutting board with chocolate and a massive knife sitting on top of it, and then a green plastic basket of strawberries. “The first thing we need to do is to chop the chocolate. It doesn’t need to be nice or neat, but we want the pieces relatively the same size. If some are bigger than the others, they’ll take longer to melt and we can risk scalding the chocolate on the bottom.”

M’Baku looks from Bilbo, to the massive knife and back again. “And you want me to do that?” That huff of breath that might just be a laugh feels like a victory. Bilbo nudges him out of the way with an elbow against the ribs and starts chopping the chocolate with his knife, as easy as breathing. 

There was a grace to the way that he moved, like it was ingrained in him. Bilbo rocks the knife against the well worn and scoured cutting board, the chocolate coming apart in crisp snaps beneath the motion. And in what feels like a matter of seconds, there’s a neat mountain of chocolate debris. Bilbo gathers it up onto the flat side of his knife, letting it rain down into the first metal bowl. “Now.” For a man who didn’t want to be in charge of anyone, Bilbo was very good at it. “Have you ever heard of using a double boiler?”

M’Baku hums. “Bowl over boiling water?” He holds his hands, one stacked on top of the other. He’s watched a Youtube cooking show or two in his time. Even if he’s never put any of it to practice. They were soothing to watch when you wanted to sleep. Especially the Japanese ones with their subtitles and their tiny cakes that always looked like something other than cake.

Bilbo’s smile is quick, and bright. “Right. It helps us control the temperature so we melt our chocolate evenly.” The pot is filled with water from the sink and put onto the big range above the row of ovens. Bilbo waits, checking his watch before he looks to water for the roiling bubbles of a boil. “Alright, bring the chocolate.”

M’Baku puts the bowl on top of the pot of boiling water, and takes the whisk that is handed to him. “You want to wisk gently, but constantly.” Pale fingers curl over M’Baku’s hold on the whisk, and his heart leaps right up into his throat. When Bilbo pulls away, M’Baku is careful to keep the same slow, easy strokes in a circle around the bowl. 

And though it gives him something to do with his hands, it does little to stop the running commentary of his thoughts, like a hamster in a wheel. Bilbo’s hands were softer than expected. M’Baku had assumed they would be callused and dry, after all the hard work he put in every day, and dealing with things fresh out of the oven. But his hands were soft. It made the touch between them, no matter how short, feel that much more intimate.

“Coconut oil. The not so secret ingredient.” Bilbo’s voice is playfully low as he spoons a big blob of white into the mixture, the darkness of the chocolate becoming a richer, warmer color as they coalesce together into something whole. “It helps the chocolate set against the fruit. And it gives it a nice shine.”

M’Baku raises the whisk from the mixture, watching the chocolate fall in silken ribbons back into the bowl. It was almost hypnotic to watch, slithering back down to become one with the rest of the chocolate still in the bowl.

“Now. We’re not on an especially quick time frame with the chocolate, but we do need to move before it begins to set. Though if it gets too hard, we can warm it again on the double boiler. That’s why we keep it simmering while we work.” Bilbo lifts the first strawberry, holding the green strem between his thumb and forefinger. Gracefully, he dips it into the chocolate and gives it two swift turns, cutting off the tail of chocolate that dribbles from the tip. 

The strawberry is placed on the piece of parchment that Bilbo laid out on a cooking sheet. “You make that look easy.” And sure enough, when M’Baku lifts his strawberry from the gooey bowl, two twists leaves him with nothing but a lumpy, lopsided strawberry. When he lays it beside Bilbo’s, all M’Baku can do is laugh. “Definitely harder than it looks.” 

“That’s alright. You just need a little more practice, that’s all.” Bilbo’s smile is warm, and private. It feels like something that belongs to M’Baku and M’Baku alone. And if their fingers touch when Bilbo hands him the next strawberry, well...who’s to say?

M’Baku dips the next strawberry into the chocolate.

“I could get used to this.” 

#ch: mbaku #polyfacetious | bilbo #v: expats row #queued #carlota's christmas drabbles

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Forever: One More

Intro: How much can 2 words actually mean?

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW) No under 18s

Pairings: Steve Rogers and Katie Stark (Rogers)

SSF Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

April 2026.

“James Anthony Samuel I swear to God you push your sister like that again and there’s no Baseball or Soccer practice for a month!” Steve glared at his son as he picked his 23 month old daughter up from the floor.

“She started it!” the 6 year old met his glare straight back “She smashed up my lego house!”

“Yeah, and you used to smash up our actual house when you were her age.” Steve pointed at him as Aurora buried her face into the crook of his neck, sobbing loudly. Steve gently shushed her as he looked down at Jamie “you’re bigger and stronger than she is, you don’t push her or hurt her in anyway, you got that? If she’s annoying you, you come find me or your ma.” Jamie looked up at his dad for a second, before he looked down, his wrong behaviour understood “Sorry Dad.” “It’s not me you should be apologising to.” Steve said, his voice softening slightly.

Jamie looked up, his blue eyes full of tears and Steve’s heart sank. He hated seeing his kids like this but he knew he had to tell them off when they misbehaved.

“Sorry Rori.” Jamie sniffed.

Rori turned her head to face him leaving a stream of snot and drool hanging from Steve’s shoulder as she eyed up her brother.

“MkayJay…” she sniffed and she leaned forward holding her arms out to him. Steve dropped her to the floor and she toddled across to his open arms and gave her elder brother a hug. Steve smiled as he watched them, despite the fact she bugged the crap out of him Jamie would do anything for his baby sister. Steve knew that.

He also knew that it was only fair Rori got chastised for her part in the argument. So he crouched down in front of them both and he looked at her.

“Aurora, you don’t touch Jamie’s toys unless he says you can ok?” he said to her, firmly but not angrily “You have enough of your own to play with.”

Or destroy as the case may be Her big green eyes, so like her mothers looked back and him and she nodded, looking down at the carpet, suitably chastised, her voice quiet “ok daddy” “Good girl.” He smiled, brushing her brunette hair off her face. When she looked back he was pleased to see both of them were smiling again. Crisis averted, discipline delivered…

“Cookie?” Rori asked hopefully and Steve sighed. He and Katie had been hoping that she would have slightly less of an appetite than her brother but no. The serum was as much a part of her as it was him. He glanced at his watch and seeing it was almost 4:30 pm he knew Katie would be home any time and he had just started their dinner before world war 3 had broken out in the living room. So as far as cookies went he really shouldn’t… “One.” He relented “but you better eat your dinner. And don’t tell momma.” He held out his hand. Aurora slipped her small palm into his and they headed into the kitchen, Jamie following.

There were no more tantrums or arguments that evening, just a small plea from Jamie as he tried desperately  to avoid going to bed at his 9pm weekend curfew      “Just one more please Momma and then I’ll go to bed I swear” he said from his spot sat in between Katie’s legs in front of her on the piano stool. Katie sighed and looked at Steve who leaned in the doorway of the smaller lounge at the back of the house and cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows before he shrugged. “One more…” she relented and Jamie clapped his hands as she placed her fingers onto the keys of the piano in front of her, Jamie lying his hands on the top of his mom’s. He wasn’t interested in learning to play, not really. Baseball and soccer were his things, but he enjoyed this, the alone time with his momma and dad that the two parents tried to ensure each of their younger kids got fairly (Emmy being far too old for any of that ‘mushy shit’ now) Katie’s hands flew over the keys and her soft voice gently filled the room as she sang, Jamie joining in after giving her a little grin when he recognised what she was playing. “I wanna be where the people are I wanna see Wanna see ‘em dancing Walking around on those…”

She stopped playing and looked down at Jamie playfully “What do you call ‘em?” “Feet!” Jamie said, holding his leg up. Steve let out a soft smile at the display of playfulness and affection between his wife and son as Katie laughed and carried on with the song. Eventually they finished and without protest Jamie turned to his mom and placed his arms round her neck. “Night Momma. I love you.” “Love you too baby boy. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in when you’ve finished your story ok?” He jumped down from the bench and headed over to his dad who gently guided him out of the room with a large, gentle hand on the back of his head. As he turned to go he cast a look over his shoulder as Katie stood up, closing the lid on the American Walnut finished Bösendorfer 155 baby grand piano he had bought her for her 40th. She turned to face him, and shyly smiled in the same way she always did when she caught him looking at her the way he was right then, the expression on his face soft, conveying just how much he loved her and it still knocked her off her feet. “You’re beautiful.” He said softly as she brushed past him in the doorway. “Charmer” she smiled as he captured her lips in a soft kiss before giving her ass a friendly squeeze with both his palms before he headed off after Jamie for their usual bed time stories. A father-son routine that Steve hoped Jamie wasn’t gonna grow out of any time soon.

A story about 1920s Gangsters later Steve bid Jamie goodnight and strode over the landing to Rori’s bed room. He picked up the stuffed bear that had fallen out of her toddler bed and, tucking it in next to her, he straightened the covers around his daughter’s chin and dropped a kiss to her head.  “Sweet dreams Princess” he said, standing up and turning off the lamp, flicking the pony night light on. “You know when they’re in bed I actually understand why we had them.” He chuckled gently as he entered the kitchen where Katie was unloading the dishwasher. Katie laughed softly  “They’re good kids really.” “I know.” Steve’s arms circled her waist “What time is Emmy back?” “You told her midnight…so probably about 5 past.” she grinned. “She text me before, she’s fine. Pete took her to a burger joint and they were just about to go into the movies…” “Better not be on the back row” Steve grumbled. “She’s 18 Steve.” Katie laughed before she sighed. “They’re all growing up so fast” “You not fancy one more?” He asked, his nose brushing against her jaw. Katie stilled and turned her head to face him. “I’m 42, still carrying extra pounds from Rori. And trust me when I say after her birth, I have no desire to push a baby out of my vagina ever again” Steve laughed loudly, his head tipping back as he did so. “Just a thought” he said, kissing the side of her neck before he straightened up. “You fancy a glass of wine?” “Getting me drunk will not make me agree to having another baby…” Katie sly eyed him as he opened the wine chiller and pulled out a bottle of Sancerre. Steve rolled his eyes “That’s not what I was trying to do… I thought seeing as they’re asleep, its Friday…we could sit outside by the fire pit and take some us time. Maybe I can make some loving on my baby momma.” She smiled and slipped her arms round his waist, standing on her tip toes to give him a kiss. “Sounds perfect daddy, let me just go tuck Jamie in and I’ll be with you.” *****

June 2026

Steve looked at his wife, simply smiling as she talked. It wasn’t often they got out like they had done before the kids, but tonight they were out for a meal and a few drinks for her birthday. She looked stunning. Her hair was curled loosely, hanging to one side over her right shoulder, her eyes were highlighted even more by the light brown shimmer that sat on her lids and her lips were plump and glossed with a soft, almost neutral pink. It reminded him a lot of how she had looked on her first date. Similar, but yet slightly different. A bit like them really. They weren’t radically different but everything they had been through, seen, done, becoming parents…it had made them evolve in a way but Steve’s heart still burst with pride and lust and love whenever he looked at the woman sat in front of him. Yes she had changed physically over the years. Taught lines of muscle had given way to softer curves over her stomach and thighs, her hips were bigger- not much- but it only served to emphasise her small waist even more. The curve of her ass was more pronounced as was her chest, both of which Steve was more than happy about, especially tonight as they were emphasised even more by the tight black cut off capris she was wearing, low cut shimmering gold top and high heels that made her shapely legs look even more toned. And right now he was imagining them hooked around his shoulders… “Are you even listening to me?” She sat back, glass of crisp white wine in her hand, a teasing smile on her face. He looked beyond gorgeous. Short, dark beard flecked with grey, strands of his short hair also Iightening slightly. His black long sleeved sweater which although loose did nothing to hide his still ridiculously toned physique underneath. He was deep in thought, but relaxed, she could see that from the way he sat. His elbow was leaning on the table, chin resting gently in his hand, his fore and middle fingers making an L shape against his cheek as his thumb gently brushed against the beard underneath his chin. She raised her eyebrows silently requesting an answer and he took a deep breath, and cocked his head slightly more to the left, eyes crinkling even further as he suppressed a chuckle because he had been caught, red handed.  “Sorry baby I was just thinking.” “You were miles away.” She said softly, leaving forward “what’s going on Soldier” He loved how she still called him that. And right then it made him want to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless. He squirmed slightly and picked up his wine glass, leaving back in his chair “Just thinking about you, how lucky I am…how gorgeous you are…” his voice dropped as he arched an eyebrow “and the things I’m intending on doing to you tonight.” They headed to a bar and bumped into Marcus and his brother, Allan, two of the guys who had religiously attended Steve’s support groups pre and post snap. Marcus gleefully told then that his wife, one of the returned, was expecting their first baby, news which both Katie and Steve had greeted with congratulations and a bottle of Don Perignon As they chatted and laughed with their friends, Katie was very aware of how tactile Steve was being. A hand on her back, skimming her ass every now and then, squeezing her hip, soft kisses to her temple and cheek.. it was all driving her wild so after an hour or so in the bar, when he asked if she was ready for home she greeted him with an affirmative nod. He held out her jacket for her, hands skimming the bare skin on her shoulders making her shiver. They bid their friends goodbye and headed out, hand in hand to hail a cab. Katie stole a glance at her husband, the father of her children and a fire lit in her belly. She had never loved anyone as much as she loves him. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. But they accepted each others faults as much as they loved each others better traits. He was an affectionate and loving man, both with her and their kids. Firm but fair and never shied away from lavishing affection on any of them. And then, in the dimly lit back seat if that yellow New York cab as it headed over Brooklyn Bridge something stirred in both her heart and her mind. She leaned over to him and gently nuzzled her nose into his neck, breathing in his aftershave. He gave an involuntary shiver and moved his arm around her shoulder as her nose now moved over the short whiskers that adorned his jaw and cheeks up to his ear where she whispered. “One more…” He turned to her, his eyes shining as he looked at her, smiling softly. “You sure?” He asked, barely able to believe it. She placed a soft kiss to his lips and whispered into his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure.” It was all Steve could do to keep himself from jumping her there and then but somehow his will power held out. Once home, Emmy had simply raised her eyebrows when they had popped their heads into the lounge and told her and Peter not to stay up to late, and then rolled her eyes when Steve had pointedly told Peter the spare room was the 1st door on the right after you climbed the stairs. Closing the door to the lounge, Steve slung his wife over his shoulder causing her to giggle as he carried her upstairs, dropping her gently on her feet in the bedroom when she exclaimed she needed to pee. Steve shrugged off his sweater and was midway into undoing his trousers when she emerged from the bathroom, her pants in her hand, leaving her clad in just that delectable top and underwear. He felt his cock twitch at the sight of her almost naked ass and long legs. As she walked past, heading to the laundry basket in the corner of the room,  Steve looped both arms round her waist and pulled her discarded clothes from her hands, dropping them to the floor. He tugged her back into him, his hands gripping the hem of her top before he pulled it over her head, hands setting on her hips as she rolled her head back against his shoulder so he could lightly graze her skin with his lips.  Her hands gently moved between them as she undid the clasp on her bra and Steve slid the straps down, placing soft kisses to each of her shoulders causing her to shudder as he tossed that to the floor too. His palms flattened on her stomach as her arms slid up and connected round the back of his neck, pushing her chest up and he gave moan as he glanced down and saw her presented to him. One of his large hands crept into the front of her lace briefs, the other up to her chest, gently tweaking and playing with her as he saw fit, lips skating over her neck. “So beautiful…” he whispered and she moaned and writhed in delight at his praise and his actions as he worked her over “such a good girl for me…” Her head fell back even further into him as she let out a soft whimper of his name, his hands upping their pace slightly as she began to buck into his touch. She arched her back, her mouth fell open and then her head rolled forward as she came, knees trembling, her hands pulling at his hair. He held her up in his strong arms and whilst she was still in the after throws of bliss he nipped at her neck, drawing a soft groan from her mouth. “Gonna fuck a baby into you…” he said, lips hot on her ear “fill you up, see you all round with my child again…that what you want?” “Please…” she sighed, “Please put a baby in me, Daddy…”   His hands fell to her hips and he spun her round, lips crashing to hers almost bruisingly before he walked her backwards, her knees colliding with the bed as she fell back wards, Steve crawling over the top of her. His lips skated down from her mouth, to her neck, between the valley of her breasts and to her naval where his nose skimmed across the waistband of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the top and slid them down over her thighs, a hot kiss dropping to her ankle. His beard scratched her soft skin as he nipped his way up her leg, before setting his mouth to her. He licked, sucked, bit as she keened into him, her hands tangling into his hair as she writhed and groaned, trying but failing to keep her noise down. It wasn’t long before he’d gotten her there again and as she fell back, panting slightly he crawled over her, ridding himself of the remainder of his clothes as he did so. His hands placed either side of her head, he dropped his mouth to her ear and kissed just underneath before he whispered “I know you got one more in you baby…” as he pushed into her, the pair of them groaning at the sensation.

And she did. As he thrust into her powerfully, her hands skated up his arms to hi back, nails dragging down his skin. It was an assault on her senses, and as he continued to love her in a way only he could, the heat was rising again and she found herself teetering on the edge.

“That’s my girl…” Steve panted out as she arched her back and came again, this one leaving her utterly shattered. Steve wasn’t far behind her, releasing inside of her before they both collapsed, utterly boneless and melted completely into the bed beneath them. Her hands gently tangled into his hair and he lazily picked his head up and gave her a soft kiss, his nose rubbing up against hers.

“I love you baby girl.” he said softly, lips pressing against hers.

“Love you too…” she whispered into his mouth.

***** February 2027 Katie glanced down at the small, white stick in her hands. She inhaled sharply as she glanced at the result and tears filled her eyes as she stood up from the toilet where she had been sat on the lid, waiting for those precious last few seconds to pass.

Her mind strayed to the conversation they had held on Christmas eve little over 6 weeks prior…

“You know… it’s kind of ironic” Katie sighed as she nestled into Steve further, her head on his chest as the arm round her gently traced shaped on her side, under her jumper. “What is?” He asked, although he had a feeling he knew what was wrong. She sat up and looked at him, her eyes sad. “We’ve been trying for our little one more ow for 6 months. Doing everything right and…” she took a deep breath “maybe I just can’t anymore. I’m sorry Steve” “Hey.” He frowned, shifting so he was looking at her as she blinked, trying to stop the tears from falling “You have nothing to apologise for.” “I just know how much you wanted this and…” “Stop.” He said almost sternly as he gently cupped her face in his hands “we already have 3 beautiful kids. I don’t want you feeling like this” He hated it. Hated the fact he felt like he had backed her into this in a way. She was feeling inadequate and she was anything but. “I wish you’d told me you felt like this sooner.” He said softly, and she shrugged as he pulled her face to meet his in a soft, tender kiss. “One more try.” He rest his forehead against hers, his decision made “One more month and we forget it. I’m not having you feeling like this anymore baby. I love you too much to see you hurting ok?” She nodded and smiled gently, her hand reaching up and her fingers gently scratching through his beard. He closed his eyes and then her lips were on his, pulling him down on top of her on the couch, the movie on the tv completely forgotten as they lost themselves in each other again, moans and sighs filling the softly lit room.   No more tries. “Honey?’ Steve called later that evening, his keys dropping to the table in the hall as he greeted their now, very elderly dog, before he headed into the kitchen. She was sat at the table, eating dinner in between watching Aurora feed herself. Jamie was tucking into his food with gusto as both kids beamed at their daddy who greeted them both in turn. “Hi.” Katie smiled softly at him, taking the kiss he offered on her cheek “dinner is in the oven” “Sorry I’m late.” He said “ the faculty meeting went on a bit longer than I thought and then we got caught discussing the next semester…” “Steve it’s fine.” She assured him, taking a drink of her soda, eyes still on her fiercely independent daughter who probably had more spaghetti round her face than in her stomach. “How was your day son?” He asked once he had grabbed his plate and settled into the seat next to him at the oak table. “Ok.” Jamie shrugged. “Ok?” Katie looked at him “more than ok sweetie, tell your dad what you got in class!” “Oh I got the class weekly gold star for my art” he said, excitement flooding his tone. “No way!” Steve beamed at him, he loved the fact his son had inherited his talent “for the sketch you did of the planets?” Jamie nodded as he smiled. “Proud of you buddy” he said, ruffling his hair as Jamie’s grin at his fathers praise practically split his face in half. A few hours later both kids were in bed, they’d skyped Emmy who was just getting ready to go to a party in one of the dorms, something Steve wasn’t feeling all too comfortable about, and were heading up to bed. Steve was just about to make his way into the bathroom for a shower when Katie stopped him. “I have something to tell you.” She said softly before she opened the drawer at the side of her bed and with a sigh she pulled out the test. Steve felt his heart sink as she turned around and held it out to him. “Baby don’t be upset.” He said softly, as he took it, giving it a cursory glance “we agreed that if it didnt…” He trailed off and looked again. 2 blue lines. 2. “Oh my…shit.. Katie…” he looked up at her, his face shocked before he gave out a splitter of a laugh and grabbed her hips, swinging her up in the air. She laughed as he set her in her feet, giving her a soft kiss “You sure?” He asked, wanting to believe it but not daring to at the same time “Maybe you should do one more to be sure?” With a smirk she turned and reached into the drawer and began to toss test after test on the bed. 10 in total, including the one still in Steve’s hand. “Way ahead of you there soldier” “You’re incredible…” he said, tossing the plastic stick onto the bed and pulling her closer “My fucking incredible…” kiss “amazing…” kiss “ gorgeous” kiss “baby momma…” This time when his lips met hers she wrapped her arms round his neck and held him in place whilst she kissed him hard, deep, passionate before she pulled away, her fingers felt tracing his t-shirt clad chest “you mentioned something about a shower…” Grinning his hands slid under her ass and she laughed as he hauled her up, legs wrapping round his waist as he walked them into the en-suite.

***** August 2027 “One more baby.” Steve urged, his wife’s hand tightly gripping his right, his left brushing her hair back off her face “One more honey, you got this.” With a loud yell and a final, almighty effort she sagged back on the bed as a piercing cry hit their ears. “You did it…” Steve said, his eyes welling up “I’m so proud of you Kitten, you did it…” She laughed through her tears as their baby was placed on her chest, cries giving way to soft wimpers which turned into those familiar nickering noises babies make as their newest addition pressed into his momma, pink and wrinkled, brown hair spattering his head, his eyes the same shape and colour as his fathers, but the Stark nose stood out clearly, just as it did with Jamie. Their little one more, Henry Steven Rogers, Harry for short opened his eyes for the first time to reveal a shock of baby blue and Steve felt his heart swell even more. Out of all their kids he had been the easiest to name. Henry chosen by Steve, Steven picked by Katie, Harry agreed upon by both. There was no 3rd name. They didn’t have one they liked or felt drawn to and besides, in Katie’s eyes he didn’t need one, because his fathers was worth two. Something which had made Steve’s eyes fill with emotion when she had told him that. Harry was measured, weighed and returned to his father wrapped in a soft blue blanket as Steve preened over his latest progeny, another male to carry the Rogers name down the line. Eventually he began to fuss and was handed to his mother for his first feed, Steve settling in their bed, arm round Katie as he watched his son’s cheeks work hungrily. “I love you” he said gently, tilting Katie’s face round to his, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you too..” she smiled before they both looked down at their baby as he suckled on his mothers breast, tiny hand shaped in a fist which rest against her exposed skin. Steve gently traced his youngest son’s cheek with his finger, his chest felt like it was going to explode with emotion. After a few hours of being on their own with their baby boy, Katie having been cleaned up and Harry settled and changed and fed again, the peace of their hospital room was shattered. “There really should only be 4 visitors…” Steve heard the nurse say as the door hovered open a few inches. “Oh come on, what’s one more?” Sam’s voice pleaded. She must have acquiesced as the door opened further and their eldest and second eldest shot into the room, followed by Sam and Buck with their now second youngest held on his hip. “Oh Mom!” Emmy gushed, her large brown eyes shining as she looked down at her baby brother in her mothers arms whilst the men were exchanging back slaps and hugs “he’s beautiful” “Course he is” Steve replied, taking Rori and walking her to the bed so she could look at her baby brother “Your mom made him” Katie smiled up at Steve “You had something to do with it…” “The enjoyable bit.” We winked as Emmie moaned

“Gross..” Jamie climbed up onto the bed, his mum gently pushing down the blanket so he could see Harry’s face clearly. The sun was peeking through the blinds, the room was loud and crowded as their older kids aged 19, 7 and 3, and their friends- their brothers- took turns to hold and meet the newest addition to the Rogers family. Steve dropped a kiss to Katie’s head, the pair of them sharing a deliriously happy look.

“Thank you.” Steve said, resting his head against hers. “Thank you for making me the happiest man alive” She smiled, pressed a kiss to his lips before they both turned back to watching the other people in the room, both savouring every goddamned second as they knew full well there wouldn’t’ be another ‘one more'. Tags @the-omni-princess@momobaby227@jtargaryen18@geekofmanythings16@angelofhell-666@marvelfansworld@thewackywriter@cobalt-gear@asgardlover75@jennmurawski13@saiyanprincessswanie@patzammit@navispalace@joannaliceevans-fanficblog@icanfeelastormbrewing@djeniiscorner@ayamenimthiriel@coldmuffinbanditshoe@disneylovingal @madzmillz @sgtjaamesbaarnes@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #captain america #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #stark spangled forever

[masterweaverx]

Me: “I should probably be writing so I don’t get so desperate at the last minute that--”

My brain: “The El Goonish Shive characters as students of Beacon academy MAKE IT HAPPEN GO GO GO!”

Me: “FINE. I’ll draw notes, but I’m not necessarily doing the story!”

So anyway here’s some notes for a story I’m not necessarily doing.

Team SPET (Spectral), led by Grace

Grace Sciuridae:

Faunus, Vale origin. Squirrel tail, “antennae” forelocks, and clawed fingernails/toenails (not actual claws, she just let them grow out.

Emblem: An acorn, generally worn as a pin on her sleeve.

Outfit is a loose long-sleeved shirt in green, black pants, bandoleer belt with a sheathe for her weapon and pouches, and no shoes/gloves.

Beacon uniform adjustments: no shoes, and she doesn’t wear the neck ribbon thing, but otherwise standard girl’s outfit.

Semblance: Extensorary. Grace can extend her aura to feel anything in the area, manipulate objects, or simulate flight.

Weapon: Shade Tail. A zweihander that splits into two bladed whips. Possible Dust effects.

Backstory: Kidnapped as a child by Damien, who in this universe is an absolutely insane faunus-supremacist that thinks he can control the Grimm, Grace lived several unkind years in the forests of Vale before managing to escape and arriving at Beacon academy. Ozpin let her in as a student mostly to provide her the protection of paperwork, since from what she’s describing Damien might be tied to the Bigger Secret of the world. She becomes partners with Tedd during initiation. Her upbringing does leave her mostly the same as EGS prime canon, ignorance of all social norms included, but she has an especial dislike of the creatures of Grimm due to Damien’s madness. Also she doesn’t get racism. Period.

Susan Pompoms:

Human, Argus origin. Appears mostly the same as EGS canon, with exception of single blonde side-braid.

Emblem: Venus symbol, used as a belt buckle.

Outfit is a dark blue longcoat has straps on the back, through which backpack straps are run to hold onto her Big Box O’ Stuff. Wears blue pants held up by belt and going into calf-high boots, black leotard, and black three-finger half gloves. Shoulder armor and a metal backbrace.

Beacon uniform adjustments: Boy’s uniform instead of girl’s, but otherwise standard.

Semblance: Portation. Susan can mark any container as hers and teleport whatever's in it to herself and back.

Weapon: Morrígna. A warhammer that can split into a sword and mallet. The mallet can morph into a one-handed gun.

Backstory: The early parts of the backstory would remain basically the same, but she doesn’t meet Nanase until Beacon and has only a passing familiarity with Sarah as ‘Oh yeah, her family comes to Argus sometimes.’ But she would have a friendship/rivalry with Pyrrha, which might lead to some interesting interactions with Jaune. She winds up partnered with Elliot during initiation. And, upon realizing how completely unaware of social norms sheltered Grace is, would be very vocal about certain people not abusing her.

Elliot Dunkel:

Human, Mantle origin. Literally looks the same as canon, because why break a good look?

Emblem: An oval with some abstract lines, seen as a symbol on his shirt.

Outfit is a White cape and black crop-top, black pants and white shoes, belts in an x-shape over his belly with pouches for carrying things.

Beacon uniform adjustments: he does not wear the white undershirt. That’s it. The jacket’s buttoned up, but he doesn’t wear the undershirt.

Semblance: Soul Fury. Elliot can draw on the negativity of others, such as pain and fear, in order to increase his own physical attack strength. He has trained this to a degree that he is capable of jumping to intense heights.

Weapons: Honor and Justice. Arm-mounted bladed tonfas, capable of shooting grappling hooks from the wrist to either drag himself to a location or to bring a foe to him. Used to be part of the Four Ideals, but leg-mounted equivalents went to Ellen.

Backstory: Saved Tedd from some bullies during one of his visits to Mantle, became close friends. Otherwise standard backstory. Some people might note his childhood doesn’t mention his twin sister, and he’ll say there was a whole money-legality thing until recently. Anybody with a truth-sensing semblance will know he’s lying. The truth, however, is Very Classified. Like seriously you don’t know how classified it is.

Tedd Verres:

Human, Atlas origin. Left half of his hair is the original ‘long hair’, right half is the new ‘pixie cut’.

Emblem: A circle with three lines extending from it, which is placed on his equipment.

Outfit is a light blue longcoat with internal pockets (and everyone is going to comment on that since none of the other characters have pockets), light blue pants, black shirt and boots. Also some purple armor around his chest that is slightly rounded and matching greaves on his legs.

Beacon uniform adjustments: wears the girl’s outfit, but with a tie.

Semblance: Copyscan. Tedd can identify other people's semblances with some observation, and make limited-use copies of them with physical contact.

Weapon: Convergence. A gauntlet with an extendable shield, which also stores copies of semblances. Ted also has an energy pistol called Expedience.

Backstory: Tedd’s dad still works for a coverup agency, but now it’s the RWBY-canon ‘Keep Magic and the existence of Salem an utter secret’ cover-up agency. Tedd was brought into this against his father’s wishes when General Ironwood realized the potency of his semblance, but this also gave him access to a few classified doohickies such as this fused universe’s version of the Dewitchery Diamond. Going to Beacon is meant as a ‘field test’ of Tedd as an agent, at least according to Ironwood, but there’s also his dad wanting him to have friends that aren’t involved in all the top secret drama. Also yes, he does have a copy of Ellen’s gender change spell in Convergence which she willingly refreshes for him, and he will sometimes spend time as a girl. (Possible connection to May Marigold down the line?)

Team STNE (Stone), led by Sarah

Sarah Brown:

Human, Mistral origin. The only real difference is that her hairband now sports fancy curls and flanges and also it’s made of bronze as a sort of informal helmet.

Emblem: a double-sided question mark which is engraved into her arm guards.

Outfit is a pink knee-length dress, belt with four pouches radially aligned. Armored boots, greaves, and with her shoulders, all bronze.

Beacon uniform adjustments: none, but she still wears her headgear.

Semblance: Lookout. Sarah can instantly take in details about her environment to a highly detailed degree, with a range that extends the more aura she pours into it. While she can examine things that might be hidden, i.e. the inside of a closed book, she cannot change anything.

Weapon: Zauberei. Spear/staff that can shift into a rifle and split into a pistol and dagger. It sort of looks like a giant paintbrush?

Backstory: An ordinary Mistral combat student who went up against Pyrrha Nikos and Susan during some combat tournaments and got a case of starry eyes for both of them. Upon hearing they were going to Beacon, she decided to go too because why not? What she doesn’t realize is that she’s going to be put in charge of a team of Secrets and Drama. She winds up partnered with Justin during initiation.

Justin Tolkiberry:

Human, Vale origin. Aside from a very fancy set of earrings in one ear, he looks about the same as his canon counterpart.

Emblem: Abstract fire, which is displayed prominantly on the back of his gi.

Outfit is an open orange gi with lots of red fire patterns and buckled belts around the ankles, thighs, biceps, and forearms. Also sandles. And he does have a belt around the pants with a few pouches.

Beacon uniform adjustments: Wears sandles instead of shoes.

Semblance: Not known, exactly. Justin knows he can ignore damage sometimes, but the details are unclear.

Weapon: Dashing Delver. A rectangle-headed shovel that turns into a tower shield/sled.

Backstory: Basically the same as canon Justin, except that because Remnant is more accepting of LGBT+ people overall he wasn’t bullied and was just very irritated at Mellissa. Also Elliot and Nanase were on entirely different continents so there’s that. He’ll be the snarky rational one when everything about his team is revealed. 

Nanase Kitsune:

Faunus, Menagerie origin. Has naturally dual-colored hair to match her naturally dual-colored fox ears.

Emblem: A heart-shaped fox head thing she wears on her shirt.

Outfit is a black jacket, yellow croptop with emblem in red, red skirt with yellow trim, red armbands, black shoes, and a pouch belt that hangs off one hip instead of being used as a belt.

Beacon Uniform Adjustment: She keeps her armbands.

Semblance: Fairy Companion. Nanase can summon fairy companions to herself or anyone she has an emotional connection with. These fairies run off her subconscious unless she deliberately controls them, and can be used to communicate, scout, or detonate as weapons. Their size is controllable, ranging from ‘hold in one hand’ to ‘outright as big as Nanase herself’, though they always appear to be wearing what Nanase is at time of summoning. Larger fairies take proportionally more aura to summon.

Weapon: Faewind. A backpack with four cable-attached fairy wings. Each wing is a bladed arm/leg shield with inbuilt nozzles that serve either as short-range blasters or a jetpack when retracted.

Backstory: The Kitsunes are a very important family in Menagerie, with a lot of political clout, and Nanase is expected to reflect that as her mother sends her to Beacon in order to indirectly represent Menagerie at the Vytal tournament. Nanase, however, is using this first chance to not have to be a Perfect Icon to actually search for her own identity. She becomes partners with Ellen during initiation, and picks up on how Ellen is really not comfortable talking about her own past. There’s a slow gradual growth of trust going on, and Nanase slowly comes to realize she might love this girl.

Ellen Dunkel:

Human(ish), Mantle origin. Looks the same as canon because of course she does.

Emblem: A rectangular mirror with a suspiciously familiar diamond shape in the center, painted on her shirt.

Outfit: Where Elliot wears a cape, Ellen wears an open coat. But otherwise it’s basically the same, if adjusted for female.

Beacon Uniform adjustments: She doesn’t wear the socks. That’s it. She wears the shoes but not the socks.

Semblance: Shift Beam. Ellen is capable of generating a beam of light from her palm. If the target has no active aura, it is impacted with a degree of force relative to the amount of aura input. If a target does have aura, the beam can cause temporary physical alteration; Ellen is still learning the ins and outs of this, but she can usually make other bodies more like hers (i.e. physically female). This is noted to be unusual, since no other known semblance outright shapeshifts people. Consequently, she tries to avoid using it in ways where this can be observed.

Weapon: Courage and Virtue. Leg tonfas. Complete with jump-jets. Used to be Elliot's.

Backstory: Officially she’s just the long-lost twin of Elliot’s who recently got back out of the foster care system. Unofficially, the dewitchery diamond exists in this fused universe and Ellen has to keep her origin a secret because if Salem heard about her hooooo boy! The original plan was for her, Elliot, and Tedd to all be on the same team so they could protect each other but she wound up partnering with Nanase and then on a seperate team and now Ellen is conflicted between explaining her origins to her partner and not wanting people to freak out. But she does slowly start to explain her various quirks, as people (especially Nanase) start to notice stuff about her.

The Plot:

I dunno, team SPET and STNE interact with teams RWBY and JNPR and get involved in the world-spanning conspiracy? My brain is saying this is enough for now.

#RWBY #El Goonish Shive #fanfic idea #Fanfic notes #Grace Sciuridae #Tedd Verres #Susan Pompoms #Elliot Dunkel #Ellen Dunkel #Justin Tolkiberry #Sarah Brown #Nanase Kitsune #Yeah the outfits could probably use a little work