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thisismysecondrodeo · 2 years

Note

new au idea, maybe? jk. no, i'm not. yes i am. unless...

AN: Wrote this directly in response so please forgive any typos!

Rating: Teen

Tags: RPF, AFAB!reader, One-Shot, implied sex, fluff

Fic masterlist

“Dude what the hell happened last night, you totally bailed. We were supposed to get drinks to celebrate your new job and I didn’t hear from you at all!”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, you’re right,” you spoke softly into your phone, sliding out of your bed to continue the conversation. You started a pot of coffee and yawned. “Well…long story short, I didn’t get the job.”

“What?! You were a shoo-in! Explain.”

So you did.

You hadn’t planned on needing a new nanny-ing gig—you adored the family you worked with—but they had decided to move to Montana of all places and you just couldn’t leave New York. They were rather attached to you too but completely understood, and mentioned they might have a referral for you: a friend of theirs who had recently gotten divorced and had primary custody of his two kids. You asked them to pass along your info, you really needed the work after all, and you and the dad connected by email and then by phone.

You had told your friend Lauren about him since she had been helping you look for new jobs and she seemed to think there was something a little flirty about you and your potential boss, Jason Sudeikis.

“I mean this is kind of a long interview process…”

“They’re his kids. He’s just being thorough.”

“Okay, but I’ve also never seen you laugh so much at an email.”

“What?! Okay, so he’s charming, how is that a bad thing?”

It only got worse once she looked him up on LinkedIn and saw that he was certified DILF. You would never admit it to her, but you had to agree.

After a few conversations, a peek at your references, and some scheduling mishap you were finally set to meet him and the kids in person, to make sure it was a fit. It was the last hurdle between you and a new gig, and despite Lauren’s suggestion, it had been nothing but professional so far.

You got there and truly had a wonderful time. Jason was just as charming in person, the kids were friendly and talkative but polite, and as you left the older kid asked when they would see you again which felt like a good sign. Everything seemed to fall into place. The little voice in the back of your head may have called you out on how often you caught the dad’s eye, how he seemed to smile a little brighter when he caught you looking. And maybe you had gravitated a little too close, told a few too many jokes that were more for dad than the kids but he had laughed and so had you. Maybe it would work out.

“Dude, I don’t understand.” Lauren interrupted your story and you took that moment to doctor your cup of coffee up with cream and sugar. “How did you not get the job after all that?”

“Well, let me finish! So…”

You had only been home an hour or so when you got a call.

“Hello?”

“Hey this is, uh, Mr. Sudeikis. I was calling to talk to you about the nanny job.”

“Oh sure! I had a great time today.”

“Yeah we did too,” he said a little sadly and your gut immediately fell. “I hate to say this because obviously you’ve got great references, and you’re kind of everything I’d been looking for, but I can’t offer you the job.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t hide the surprise in your tone. “Can I ask why not?”

“Of course, it turns out there’s a, well, a conflict of interest.”

“I see.” You wanted to push further, find out more, but you were already a little sad about it so you decided to just accept it and not take it personally. “Well, if you know anyone else looking for a nanny, please send them my way.”

“Absolutely, thanks again Y/N.”

You took the phone away from your ear about to text Lauren to change celebratory drinks to consolation drinks when your phone rang again, same number.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hi, Y/N? This is Jason.”

He said it as if the two of you hadn’t literally just spoken. “Jason, as in Jason Sudeikis?”

“Yep, that’d be the one. Listen, I was calling to ask if you’d like to go to dinner with me.” He said it incredibly seriously and you couldn’t help but laugh. He was doing a bit.

“What? Why?”

“Well, like I said earlier, you’re kind of everything I’ve been looking for.”

You couldn’t help but blush. “So the coonflict of interest…?”

“Was me being interested in you. No pressure though, I meant it when I said I’d refer you to some other people, regardless of if you'd like to go to dinner with me. Unfortunately this job won't work out because I am just…very into you.”

You paused, and thought about it, but couldn’t deny that the chance to potentially build something with Jason was more exciting than the job opportunity.

“Well then..yeah, I’m free for dinner.”

“Great. And, uh, if you happen to know any nannies that are just as good with kids as you are but significantly less attractive… And less funny... And maybe a little dumber to be honest with you, I would appreciate it.”

You laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay, very hot, very fun and flirty, thrilled for you!! But what happened between your dinner date and our drinks, we still could have….ohhhh my god you slept with him! You bagged the DILF?!”

You were laughing at Lauren’s surprise when you heard your sheets rustling in your bedroom. You got down a mug and poured a second cup of coffee.

“Hey, I gotta go, we’ll talk about this later I swear. We will go get drinks tonight. Promise, promise, promise.”

“Okay but you owe me details!”

You agreed and hung up before taking both mugs into the bedroom. Jason grinned at you, his tousled bedhead making you giggle. You sat your coffee on the nightstand and offered him his, which he accepted with his left hand while using his right hand to tug you on top of him by the waist.

“‘Mornin, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, morning,” you responded with a kiss, fully straddling his lap and tucking your arms around his bare chest. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to hear you bagged the DILF, way to go.” He smirked at you, taking a sip of his coffee before sitting it down and holding up his hand for a high-five. Even though you were absolutely mortified, you high-fived him anyway and laughed into the crook of his neck.

#jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis x reader #jason sudeikis x yn #jason sudeikis fic #jason sudeikis reader insert #jason sudeikis fan fic #jason sudeikis fan

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anemo-writes · 3 years

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hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

#anemo-writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #THE WAY THIS IS A DAY LATE #can you tell that i’ve never written for zhongli before :’)#bennett’s is my favorite i almost cried while writing it because it was so wholesome #diluc x reader #Childe x reader #zhongli x reader #chongyun x reader #razor x reader

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overwhore-s · 3 years

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A Freak in a Sheet (Ghost!Bakugou x Reader) part 1

part II

This is 1347 words and I wrote it all in under an hour. I am both proud of myself for writing so fast but also kinda mad ‘cause I know I made some typos ‘n shit but am too lazy to read after myself so aaah...if you find anything PLEASE let me now I will thank you very nicely <3

Anyways have some ghost Bakugo. Where I am right now, it is the day before Halloween. I’ll try to post the second (smutty) part tomorrow. if you want to, please also support this on AO3. Love you lots, please enjoy <3

warnings: some swearing. also brief mentions of depression.

Get lost, motherfucker, reads the lovely message scrawled on your bathroom mirror. Now, you’re no expert on the psychology of writing, but you’re almost certain the author is angry with you. He’s such a big personality too, with those big, bold letters. And he wrote it in…blood? Experimentally, you dip your pinky in the red substance and then put it in your mouth. You grimace.

Chili sauce.

“Listen, friend,” you start, mentally preparing yourself for the oncoming onslaught of ghastly apparitions and cupboards flying open. Ghosts are annoying like that.

“I’m not here to cause you any sort of harm, believe it or not.”

The lightbulb above your head flickers aggressively, as if in disbelief at your words.

“Woah, you doubting me buddy? I’m telling the truth, I swear!” You lay your hand over your heart as you say that, hoping the ghost will see it as a guarantee.

No such luck. The cabinet door suddenly opens, hitting you painfully in the knee. You cry out and start hopping around on your unhurt leg, all the while swearing like a sailor.

“Ow! Fuck this! I’ve just about had it with you! I’m done being nice, you stupid fucking ghost! I’m going all Ghostbusters on your ass!” You threaten, before kicking the cabinet closed and shamefully limping away.

Bakugou materializes leaning against your bathtub, a self-satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. You’ll be out before the week is out, he’s certain of it.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Despite his best efforts, a week passes and you still remain, as stubborn as ever. It’s more than a week now, actually, closer to six months, but time tends to flow funny when you’re a ghost. He’s lost count of how many lightbulbs fell victim to his explosions, how many times you tried to capture him in a ring of salt. You seem to know an awful lot about ghosts – most likely you’ve met others before at some point in your life, considering you’re not even a little scared of him.

If anything, you’re…curious. When you’re not busy shielding yourself from flying objects or relighting the candles he continues to snuff out, you ask him stuff, and it’s annoying, and he hates how he sometimes gets the urge to give an honest answer.

You never ask about traumatic shit like his death or why he chooses to remain on Earth instead of passing to the next world. You want to know about whether he was a college student as well, if so, what was his major, what music he likes, if he’s a dog person or a cat person. When you’re watching TV and something makes you laugh, you point at the screen showing some stupid game show and yell: “Do you see this? What a dumbass!” He can’t help himself but agree, because the guy is indeed a dumbass for answering an easy question like that wrong, and it is pretty fucking funny if he does say so himself.

You talk about yourself too. When you come home from school for example, you tell him about your day. The first few times it happens, he keeps rattling pots and pans to disrupt your speaking, but you barely let it affect you, continuing in a cheerful tone despite the obnoxious noise.

He soon finds he likes the sound of your voice, no matter how hard he tries to deny it. Before you came in it, his life after death was quiet, depressive and mundane. Now it’s hardly peaceful, but you brought change, and light, and laughter…he never realized what he was missing.

Until you happened.

He listens to you even when you’re at your lowest, sharing your insecurities and fears with him like he’s a most trusted friend. He hates how the sight of you, shaking with sobs when the world gets the best of you, makes his chest feel all sorts of tight and his head spin with anger at whoever caused you to be like this.

It’s mostly at times like these that he wants to reveal himself to you, gather you up in his arms and hold you close to his chest. Would you feel it? Would you get grossed out, push him away? There’s too many variables, and he’s still just coming to terms with his affection for you.

So he chickens out.

You have average days as well. When nothing amazing has happened at school or work, or you’re too tired to want to talk about it. You take a long shower, enjoy your meal in silence and head straight to bed.

Bakugou feels weird watching you sleep, so he doesn’t. He hangs around the kitchen instead, cleaning the dishes you were too beat to take care of before sleep. Sometimes he watches TV, the same shows you like, but it’s not half as entertaining when you’re not there to keep him company.

It’s so fucking strange, he thinks, so unlike me.

When exactly did he stop seeing you as an annoyance and started considering you a friend?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

He doesn’t know how exactly it happened. It’s like his body – his weird, unearthly, ghost body – moved on its own. One moment you’re standing up on a chair in order to reach that bag of chips he purposefully moved out of your reach because he knows how much you like saving them for a show and it doesn’t start for another thirty minutes – the other you’re falling, and he thinks, shit, that’s all my fault, isn’t it?

And so he catches you. His solid arms encircle your waist and your back hits his chest and you’re warm and alive and it feels wonderful.

He hears you gasp, not in fear, just surprise, and he wonders if you knew he was in the kitchen with you the whole time.

“Thanks for that,” you say, knees wobbly as he lets go of you.

“You’re welcome,” he grumbles and the words are out before he can stop them. Yep. He did it. After months of playing the mute, he finally broke his silence.

“I knew you could speak,” you say, triumphantly. You’re still not turning around though, and Bakugou thinks it might be because you’re scared of what he looks like. It’s not that bad. Who’s he kidding, it’s great, actually. He never was one to deny the obvious – unless it hurt his pride too much – and so he can admit to himself that he’s an attractive guy…or at the very least, the people who knew him when he was alive considered him attractive.

“Can I look at you?” You ask suddenly, carefully. Like you’re considering his feelings or some shit. It throws him off balance. Here was he, thinking you were shallow like the rest of them, and all along you’ve just wanted his consent.

When you don’t get an answer out of him right away, you panic. “Like – you don’t have to. I know some deceased don’t like showing their faces. It was nice enough of you to show me your arms though – you have nice arms – but like…I’m going to the living room. You can dematerialize. Let’s watch some TV.”

No. He doesn’t want to do all that…dematerialized, he realizes. “You can look,” he blurts out quickly. If there was any doubt that he liked you before, now there’s none.

“Are you sure?” You ask once again, this time trying his goddamn patience.

“Fuck’s sake.” He grabs you by the arms – how heavenly it is to touch something living for a change – and forcibly turns you around.

You look at him, the first person to see him in…in too many years, and as your eyes fill with amazement and wonder, he knows it was worth it to wait for so long to show himself after all.

“What’s your name?” You ask, softly, and his throat feels tight as he responds.

“Bakugou.” He doesn’t ask for yours. He’s known it for a long time now.

You grab his hand and squeeze, warm, human, alive, perfect. “Very well then. Want to watch a reality show with me, Bakugou?”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bnha x reader

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dannypuro · 3 years

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Okay but what was the heinous spelling error Enj made 200ish years ago and was it really as bad as he said it was ?

Also I am here to further scream over your fics and flail about how Good they are and how On Point your characterization is and how I am still thinking about them all. All at once. No exceptions

THANk YOU VERY MUCH AND GOOD NIGHT :^D (the nose is there for Grantaire reasons) - boom-goes-the-canon because Tumblr disallows sending asks from side blogs like governments ban personal lives

( Something Telling verse, post-chapter 9 (aka time-zapped Enjolras, modern-era). also THANK YOU!! HELLO!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!! GOOD JOB ON YOUR MOST RECENT FIC I ADORE. to everyone else... send me prompts/questions/thoughts. i shall respond to them. thank u)

Feuilly and Bahorel come over for brunch on a Sunday in December. Grantaire makes a quiche, sets the table all nice, and everything, and then realizes, ten minutes before they’re supposed to arrive, that they ran out of coffee the day before.

“Fuck,” he hisses, as he stares down into the empty bag and wishes that for once in his fucking life he could have just a tiny bit of forethought. “Fuck.”

Enjolras hums from where he sits on the kitchen counter, where he’s been steadily working his way through a truly impressive number of clementines. “Something is wrong?” He asks; he passes Grantaire a piece of clementine, as he says it. (God, Grantaire fucking loves him.)

“Yeah,” he says, but his heart’s not really in it, anymore--it’s hard to keep up any semblance of anger past annoyance when Enjolras is doing things like- like feeding him orange segments, and shit like that. “We- I forgot we’re out of coffee. And Baz and Feuilly’ll be here in, like, a second, and the quiche is still in the oven and I don’t-” he doesn’t have time, and he has never been a shitty brunch host but brunch without coffee is a shitty brunch, and-

“Grantaire,” Enjolras says firmly. He hops down off of the counter, takes a second to frame Grantaire’s face in his hands. “Please do not panic over brunch. I shall go and buy some more coffee.”

Like it’s simple. Fuck, it is simple, and Grantaire loves him, and he’s not going to be a shitty brunch host, and-

“God, I love you,” he says.

Enjolras smiles, leans up for a quick kiss. “I love you, as well. Now, mind your cookery--I shall return before the hour, and all will be well.”

He leaves, and Grantaire repeats it to himself--All will be well--and as soon as he’s done that, there’s a crack of thunder, and it starts pouring, icy and relentless, outside the kitchen window. And. Well. So much for that mantra, then. But oh, God, it’s raining, and Enjolras never takes an umbrella with him, and if he had any sense he’d just turn back and come back to the apartment, damn the coffee, but Grantaire knows him, and he knows that he doesn’t have any sense, most of the time, so he stares out the window and wills the rain to stop before his boyfriend freezes to death.

No such luck. By the time Enjolras gets back, coffee in hand, he’s soaked to the bones, and he’s got an equally-as-sopping Feuilly and Bahorel in tow.

“R!” Bahorel crows. “Found your boy!”

Grantaire sets the quiche down on the table and looks them over. Feuilly’s teeth are chattering. They’re all three of them dripping on his carpet. Enjolras is wearing Grantaire’s hoodie instead of a coat and beaming.

Right. A change of plans, then.

They eat brunch on the couch, once Grantaire’s thrown all of their clothes into the dryer and they’ve changed into some of Grantaire’s spare sweatpants. Of course, Baz and Feuilly borrow his clothes because they need to; Enjolras borrows his clothes because he’s fundamentally ridiculous. (Grantaire loves him so fucking much.)

“You know,” Grantaire says, over couch quiche, despite the fact that he already knows that Enjolras does, in fact, know, “You could have just changed into your own clothes. If you wanted to. Since you live here, and all.”

Enjolras gives him a very, very pointed look. And you know what? Fair.

They eat brunch.

“I did have a question about your essays, actually,” Feuilly says, once they’ve finished the quiche and moved on to coffee and coffee alone. He’s tucked under the same quilt as Enjolras--one of Jehan’s, bright and warm.

Enjolras nods, snuggles back against Grantaire, where Grantaire’s got an arm wrapped around his chest, where he leans up against him in an awkward half-pivot. “Of course,” he says. “Anything you require, easily.”

“Awesome, great,” Feuilly says, with a smile. “What’s lacrity?”

Grantaire can feel Enjolras tense against him, freeze. Which is… not what he was expecting. “You jest,” he manages, eventually, and Grantaire holds him a little tighter, never mind that he doesn’t know why.

Feuilly frowns. “Um. No? I mean, I looked it up, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Enjolras is breathing a little faster, now; he takes Feuilly’s hands in his own. “Feuilly, my dear fellow,” he says, and his voice shakes. “Tell me you jest.”

Grantaire doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.

Feuilly looks just about as confused as Grantaire feels. He reaches into his bag, pulls out a book--Enjolras’s book, a little thing, six essays bound in public-domain paper. He opens it to his bookmark, hands it over. “Lacrity,” he says, and then he reads, “It is only through lacrity and fortitude that the people of this nation might ever be free; it stands testament to the chance of man, then, that itis lacrity and fortitude both which comprise the foundation of the citizen’s heart. It’s in the fifth one?”

Enjolras stares down at the book. He clears his throat. “Alacrity,” he says, very, very softly.

“Uh, yeah,” Bahorel says, from where he sits with an arm thrown over Feuilly’s shoulders. “A lacrity. But, like, what is it?”

A pained noise rises at the back of his throat that Grantaire can feel, up against his chest. “You misunderstand me,” he manages. “I- This is a nightmare.” His heart is beating just a little too fast for Grantaire’s comfort.

“Enj?” he tries. “Are you-”

“Excuse me,” he blurts out. “I- Excuse me.” He’s on his feet in an instant, making off for the bedroom before anyone can stop him. Grantaire’s side feels pretty fucking cold, without him.

Feuilly looks stricken. “I don’t- Did I say something?” Grantaire’s feeling pretty stricken, himself--he doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know what could have gone on in Enjolras’s head that would make him talk to Feuilly with anything other than kindness edging on reverence.

“I’m gonna go see if he’s-” he gestures towards the bedroom. Bahorel and Feuilly nod. He goes.

Enjolras is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands.

Oh, Jesus.

“Enj?” he hazards.

He doesn’t look up. “This is mortifying,” he mumbles into his palms. “I have been personally wronged by every single editor who has ever lain their hands upon my essays.”

Grantaire still doesn’t- doesn’t really know where they’re going, here. He sits down beside him on the bed. “Did-”

“Lacrity,” Enjolras grits out, half frantic, and finally, he turns to face Grantaire. “Lacrity is not a word. It is- It- Alacrity. Which I did not know when I wrote those essays, because I was twenty-two years of age and a fool. And this is something which, despite the fact that he was paid to do so, my editor did not deem necessary to correct!”

Ah.

Um.

Grantaire doesn’t really know that he’s qualified to offer comfort on 200-year-old publishing woes, but fuck, he’ll try. “I’m sure-”

Enjolras holds a hand up to stop him. He stops. “This was bad enough. I was already aware of this injustice. What I cannot abide is the fact that evidently, in the two hundred years since its unfortunate publication, nobody has taken pity enough to correct it! And now Feuilly thinks that I am a fool! Grantaire, this is humiliating!”

He’s looking pretty genuinely distressed; Grantaire can’t bear to do anything but to pull him into a hug, firm and solid. Enjolras, for all his bristle, folds in against his chest. “Feuilly doesn’t think you’re a fool,” he says, into his curls. “Feuilly thinks you’re awesome.”

He lets out a pained groan. “I shall never recover.”

Yeah, okay. Grantaire holds him a little tighter. Only- “Hey, why don’t you care about me or Baz thinking you’re a fool?”

Enjolras snorts a laugh against his chest. “I have personally witnessed Bahorel misspell his own profession. I hold little concern that his regard for me will be impacted.”

Honestly? Fair. “But-”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras says, and he pulls back just enough to press his forehead to Grantaire’s. (Grantaire’s heart thrums.) “We live together. We are courting. If you do not already know that I am a fool, I worry that you never will.”

“You’re not-” he says, on impulse, and then he thinks about, like, actually living with Enjolras, fucking wonderful thing, and he grins. “Well. Maybe a little,” he admits.

Enjolras smiles back, still half-shaky. “Perhaps a little,” he says.

“Feuilly doesn’t think you’re a fool,” Grantaire reminds him, firm. “Feuilly likes you no matter how many typos you made when you were twenty-two.”

He sighs. “Oh, I suppose so.”

Grantaire kisses him, because he can. Enjolras takes a minute to kiss him back, then stands with a sigh.

“I suppose that I had better explain my pitiable situation to Feuilly, then,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

“Guess so,” Grantaire says, and he lets Enjolras tug him to his feet and press a kiss to his cheek, before they go.

#enjoltaire #enjoltaire fanfiction #exr #exr fanfiction #les miserables #something telling #les miserables fanfiction #les mis #writing #Anonymous

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liladiurne · 3 years

Text

Brighter Than Bright - extract from chapter 14

Look at me, with chapter 14 already underway barely a week or so after posting 13. Isn’t that a good omen?

Once more, here is the beginning bit, because I don’t have anything at this point that wouldn’t spoil too much for you. I thought this would be perfect, because it announces a little what’s coming in the chapter without actually introducing the new characters. There is so much good stuff coming this chapter! I may share another extract before it’s finished, but we’ll see, because this is a bit longer than what I normally share, I think. Either way, I think this is going to be a long chapter!

This extract may change and differ a little in the finished chapter, as I tend to move things around when I edit. I have proofread this a bit quickly, so there may be some typos, which you can disregard because they will surely be fixed at some point. I hope you enjoy!

EXTRACT FROM CHAPTER 14

While Harry’s second heat does not last quite as long as the first one did, a few more days must pass before he feels strong enough to leave his bed. Charlie remains by his side throughout, drawing while Harry reads or sleeps. From the way he dutifully attends to Harry’s every need, constantly asking if he is hungry or thirsty or tired, it is evident that he still feels guilty at having left his little brother to such torment, regardless of how many times Harry has told him that it was probably for the best.

When Harry thinks back to those dreadful few days, he is filled with a combination of fury and shame. Perhaps worse than the memory of his suffering is the knowledge that, although he does not remember it, he seemingly called out for Mr Snape. Fanny said that the heat is meant to coerce him into mating, and he tries to console himself with these words. He suspects that this irrepressible, forceful longing does not discriminate between one Alpha and the other, and for this reason, he is nearly grateful that Charlie was absent. As he is so often reminded, he is not truly related to Charlie after all. If his reason can be so addled, if this strange instinct inside his chest, this part of him that does nothing but crave and crave, can resort to yearning for a despicable Alpha such as Mr Snape, Harry dares not imagine what could have happened if his brother’s scent had been nearby when he was in the throes of the heat. The oestrus has a mind of its own. If it can turn abhorrence into attraction, who knows what it can make of brotherly love.

Most of what occurs during the heats does not stay with him for long. He cannot recall much apart from the pain and some vague, feverish recollections of waking up and then sleeping again. He knows that he dreams, sometimes vividly, sometimes rather hazily, in wisps of thoughts and images, but all remembrance of what those dreams contain leave him swiftly as the fever fades. He is unsure whether these lapses in memory are caused by the fever itself or simply by the laudanum. Perhaps it is a combination of the two. But it is just as well that he cannot remember. Harry has no desire to know what feverish delusions might have resulted in him saying Mr Snape’s name.

At least he did not ask for Mr Malfoy. He does not think that he could live with such ghastly knowledge.

When Harry finally leaves his room for good, he finds that a thick blanket of snow has covered the world, thus putting an end to horseback ventures with his brother until spring. He is somewhat disappointed at having missed the last days of autumn, but as soon as he is well enough to leave the house, he heads outside with Charlie and the two of them engage in a great snow battle, to which even their father participates. Later in the afternoon, as the sun sets, they construct a great snowman in front of the house and dress him in a scruffy hat and scarf before retreating inside for some mulled wine.

Harry usually finds winter most inconvenient. As beautiful as snow can be at the beginning, it never takes long for him to miss the smell of the warm summer air, the loud humming of the cicadas, the wide, green expanse of his field. Unable to retreat to his habitual refuge under the shadow of the beechwood tree or to go on long walks by the river, Harry must spend most of winter confined to the house, forced to read every book he can find, often ones that he has already read countless times before. When he is truly unable to find entertainment, he sometimes sits at his desk and writes short little stories for his own amusement, or he plays with Hedwig, sprawled on the floor and throwing a ball of twine around for her to catch.

This year, of course, with Charlie present, there is no such lack of distraction.

On the first week of December, after a particularly heavy snowfall, Charlie spends at least an hour rummaging through the shed behind the barn until he finally unearths the old sleigh that Hagrid made for them years ago. It needs a little fixing, having been buried under some tools and refuse for nearly a decade, but as soon as it is good to use, it is attached to one of the draft horses’ harness. Once they are dressed thickly and warmly enough, Harry and Charlie settle on the sleigh, which is barely big enough to hold them both now that they are grown, and spend the afternoon being dragged around speedily through the snow, laughing and yelling and causing quite a raucous through the village, for which they are promptly scolded at supper. Their mother is not shy in expressing her disappointment at finding out that she has not, as she believed she had, raised respectable young men, but rather careless little ruffians.

As much as he loves the warmer weather, Harry is rather looking forward to the colder days, hoping that the river might freeze, because Charlie has also found their old ice skates hanging in the back of the shed. At present, however, the water still flows merrily, with no sign of stopping.

“It is so unfortunate that you were not here last winter. It was frozen for months,” Harry says regretfully one morning as they stare at the river, having taken advantage of the sunny day and the melting snow to walk alongside it.

“It is not cold enough yet. Perhaps in January.”

Harry shrugs. “It may not even harden enough for skating.”

“Do you remember that big pond in Hampstead, behind the marketplace?” Charlie muses, nudging Harry with his elbow to try and shake him out of his sombre mood. “It was always fit for skating. Do you remember? Grandfather would take us there when we visited in the winter.”

“I remember,” Harry says distractedly.

His mother never wanted him to go. She would insist that his brothers and cousins were too rough and that he would get hurt and that it would be better if he remained at the house with the girls. But Grandfather would not hear it. He had never once left Harry behind, even if it meant arguing ceaselessly with his daughter. It is true that the boys were terribly rough, however. Harry remembers how they darted around dangerously on their skates, crashing into one another at terrible speeds, and Grandfather was aware of the danger their carelessness posed for Harry, who was much smaller than they were. He would pretend that he was afraid to fall and hurt his old bones, and he would ask Harry to remain nearby and please not let go of his arm while they skated around the edges of the pond safely. Harry should perhaps have been upset at being subjected to this protective treatment while his brothers were free to play however they wanted, but he took a sort of pride at being kept close as the favourite. He still remembers how Grandfather’s steady hand would hold him up whenever he lost his balance or whenever the blade of his skate would catch into the ice and threaten to trip him. All of his brothers and cousins would get regularly hurt whenever they went out skating, but even if Harry had never been a good skater, he had never fallen once with Grandfather by his side.

“It must be nearly ten years since I last saw him,” Charlie adds disbelievingly. “Eight years, I believe. Yes, since I joined the military. It will be good to see him again.”

Harry turns to his brother in confusion. “Again? Are you going to Hampstead?”

“Yes. All of us shall be visiting for Christmas,” Charlie reveals with a grin.

Harry grips his arm suddenly, a bit roughly perhaps, but Charlie only laughs. “What? When was this decided?”

“I told Father that I would need to leave for a few days next week,” Charlie says in a more serious tone. “I was going to perhaps find a room in Hatfield, but he suggested I go to Hampstead. I have done so in the past, after I came of age, if you recall.”

Harry nods, looking away in embarrassment. When they were younger, Bill and Charlie both would visit their grandfather whenever the time for their rut was near. Harry has always felt a certain guilt over this, especially now that he knows how much easier it is to be at home during such a trying time. But they would both rather leave The Burrow than have Harry being sent away, even for a few days. Besides, Grandfather Prewett is himself an Alpha, and he was always in the best position to provide a comfortable environment for them.

“And so, I wrote to Grandfather, and he was the one who suggested everyone should follow suit after me. I shall be leaving on Monday, and Mother, Father and you should join us the week after. Everyone will come for Christmas as well. Uncle Fabian and Aunt Mable, with Catherine and Caroline. And Ron and Ginny. And Percy, Fred and George will certainly come as well. I believe even Robert will come with his wife and the children. Are you happy?” Charlie asks, quite unnecessarily, because surely it is obvious from Harry’s wide eyes and grin that he is ecstatic. “We shall have a big family Christmas, just like when we were little.”

“I am happy,” Harry can only mumble, holding Charlie’s arm tightly still and pressing his cheek against his brother’s shoulder. “It will be just like before. As if nothing had changed.”

Harry is nearly certain that his brother smiles sadly at this, but Charlie does not reply as they continue walking, the soggy ground squelching under their feet.

#snarry #snarryfanfic #myfics #ficextracts #brighterthanbright

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

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A pansexual horndog , an infp turbuletnt mediator. I use she/her pronouns. I don't know how to describe my character because I feel like my existence makes no sense. I'm shy and anxious, literally struggling with GAD and agoraphobia, yet I love being a center of attention, I can be a show off lmao

I'm sure I'm going to hell because of my dark, edgy humor.

I know it's not really a good think but I think I have something of a 'pick me girl' in me, like I prefer hanging out with the boys™ playing games and stuff. I'm hot-headed and live for drama, always shading people and spilling the tea, but only about ppl that wronged me (we don't stan bullying in this household). However, I believe I can be an actual sweetheart, almost like a mom friend for my closest besties.

My fav colors are black and pink. My fashion style is hard to describe, idk man. Like it's either a sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt kinda situation or a cute lil' skirt with knee-high socks. I always put makeup on tho and I always wear my hair down.

My thoughts tend to be rather grim and dark but at the same time my bedroom is literally princess themed and I collect all things hello kitty.

I don't have any talents or passions. I'm an English language major with minor in business. I am fluent in several languages and currently studying more. I'd like to become a sworn translator or interpreter in the future. I love traveling, been to maaany countries already so I really want to be able to work and travel at the same time.

Sorry babe, I'm really bad at this. I'd love to get matched with one of the Buckets and a Clone boi. I know I omitted the appearance, because, uhhh, me ugly, but you know it lmao.

I ship you with Leia!

I know you are probably disappointed but, please, here me out.

I just picture you and Leia being those cool af gay aunties. You are really beautiful so the Princess would fall for you pretty easily.

She's fiesty and protective and so are you. I'll never stop being thankful for you defending me against nasty anons.

Leia is the biggest social justice warrior just like her momma. I can see you both trying to figure out how to help those in need.

You'd never take any bullshit from no man.

GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS

bonus: visiting her mom's homeplanet, just you and her, somewhere near a remote lake. Just two baddies being softies, holding each other in their arms.

Sorry for all the typos and errors but I'm having a high fever as I'm writing this. I'm not sure if it's even real or I just started seeing things lool. Also sorry for keeping the ship thingy short, I'd love to write a drabble for you in the future if you like my choice for you.

First off, don’t apologize for typos because I guarantee I will have at least one in my answer for you bb. And second of all THANK YOU for being here and bringing life to my blog and dms with all your thots, I love them all!

Now for your ships, first off of course, I ship you with me lmao buuuuuut,

For the bucket bois I ship you with Paz Vizsla!

First off I wanna say that Paz is going to wake up every morning and just shower you in love and affection, telling you how perfect and beautiful you are and how much he absolutely loves and adores you. Paz will constantly reassure you and if your anxiety starts getting the better of you he will pull you away from everyone and whisper reassuring, comforting things to you and do whatever he can to help you feel better. Now Paz also has a darker sense a humor and I personally think that comes with being a mandalorian, so he will always chuckle at your jokes and will return it with one of his own because he strives to see you smile and laugh as much as he can make possible. Paz would find it cute that you are always chasing drama and loves to sit and listen to you recite all the drama to him and spill the tea lol. You say you don't have any talents, but Paz is always blown away at how many languages you can speak and how you continue to want to learn more. He also loves that that gives him an excuse to take you with him when he travels so that he can have his cute little translator with him at all times. Not to mention that he loves cuddling up with you in the tiny bed that he has on his ship, as well as other things.

For your clone ship, I am going to ship you with Commander Fox!

Ok so I wanna say that the two of you some how meet and start a regular meet up at some random shady bar where the two of you will sit for hours passing back rumors and just drama that you have witnessed since the two of you talked last. This goes on for a while before one morning you wake up early to Fox slowly and carefully trying not to wake you up as he untangles himself from you and your bed. After that the two of you start meeting more regularly and usually at your home. Once the two of you really get close and even start a relationship Fox finally relaxes around you. Fox absolutely loves your dark jokes because it is something he doesn't get to hear often with protecting senators and the chancellor almost everyday. Fox has also always loved the way you dressed, whether it be in comfy clothes or your cute skirts, he doesn't care he just likes the idea of wearing something different everyday rather than just blacks and his armor. Fox also likes to play with your hair at any given chance, and he appreciates that you always have it down because it just means that he has easier access too in, especially in certain situations *wink wink*. Fox would be one to stand up for you in any situation, and he may be pretty emotionally stunted and can't quite get the words out most of the time but the second he knows he loves you he will bluntly tell you because he is a blunt man and will not beat around the bush when it comes to you.

How in the world could I ever be disappointed in being shipped with the best princess and general in the Star Wars galaxy?!?!

Now, everything you wrote? Fucking beautiful I am obsessed and I want to steal Leia away from Han and just hype her up and help her take over and rule the galaxy like she deserves

(And if you wrote more than enough for my ship, but if you wrote me a little drabble with Leia I would die of happiness bb)

(14/20)

#500 followers #ships #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader #commander fox x reader #fox x reader

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bazzybelle · 4 years

Text

Love is Blind (As A Bat)

Ok... so I wasn’t intending on writing a fic for today but then I saw THIS amazing piece by the talented @parijpg and I HAD to write a little something.

So many apologies for this fic. I wanna say it’s a late CRACK submission for the Countdown, but I don’t know.

Also, sorry if there are typos or any other nonsense. I wrote this quickly, while at work and didn’t have time to have it beta-read properly.

Enjoy... I guess... xD

________________________________________________________________

SIMON

He’s late. He’s never late.

He was supposed to be back at around supper time, but I have yet to hear anything from him. I check my mobile, in case I missed a text or call, but find nothing waiting for me. I type up a quick message, just to see where Baz is and if he’s alright.

“Done at your parents’ place? Been missing you all day.”

I toss my mobile onto the table and glance at my watch: 9:30 PM. He really should have been back home by now. He was only supposed to go to his parents’ estate for an afternoon visit. I don’t want to worry, Baz knows how to handle himself (ever since I’ve been teaching him how to properly defend himself). Still, the back of my mind tends to worry that something is wrong, or that something happened to him. I chalk it up to old anxieties making a brief return and pull out a comic that I’ve been reading.

I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear a very soft thump thump sound coming from the balcony window. I get up from the sofa and head towards the sound. A quick look outside doesn’t raise any flags for me. It looks like a typical London night; dark skies, clouds and light pollution making it impossible to see any stars. I turn away from the window and head back to the sofa.

I check my mobile again; 10:30 PM and still no message from Baz. I can feel my heart sinking and my stomach beginning to twist. Something is wrong. I shove my mobile in my pocket as I rush to Penny’s room and begin banging on her door.

“Penny! Come out! Something’s wrong!”

Her door whips opened and Penny stands in front of me, hands at her hips with a very cross look on her face. I see her laptop opened with Skype running in the background, so I assume she’s been talking to Shepard before I interrupted her. “This better be important Simon! I was-”

“Baz is missing.” I interrupt her.

“Are you sure? When was he supposed to arrive back home?” Penny is frowning at me. I know she doesn’t like to be interrupted, but this is serious.

“Almost 3 hours ago…” I begin to pick at my cuticles and look to the floor. My foot begins to tap nervously and my heart just won’t calm down.

“He’s not hunting?”

“He would have texted me Penny! Something’s wrong!” I growl at her. I hate to be this impatient with Penny, but I know my boyfriend and all the signs point to him being missing or worse. We are wasting precious moments arguing about nothing.

“Alright, alright…” Penny heads to her computer and types up a quick goodbye message to Shepard. She returns from her bedroom, holding several crystals, and spellbooks. She dumps them onto the kitchen table and sighs heavily.

“You know, for someone as strong, and powerful a magician as Baz is, he does tend to go missing often.” Penny states as she begins to thumb through a book about spells to call upon a loved one.

“This is not funny Penny! I’m fucking worried about him!” I run my fingers through my hair and start to think of the million and one possible things that could have happened to Baz. I then start to run through the million and one different ways that I could have better protected him; or the million and one different moves he could have used to protect himself. I run the risk of spiraling out of control, when I hear another soft thump thump coming from the balcony window again. Penny’s head whips up from the book she’s reading.

“What was that?” Penny starts to get up from her seat, but I hold my arm out, blocking her path.

“Probably the wind. I heard it earlier before. There’s nothing out there! Can we focus on finding Baz?” Penny starts to sit back down when:

Thump thump!

That blasted sound again. Penny jumps from her seat and marches towards the door. I try to stop her again, but she pushes my arm aside. “Simon, just let me see for myself that nothing is outside.” I let her go, while I continue to pour over the books. Penny shrugs and starts to head back, but we hear the sound again.

Thump thump! Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump THUMP!

“OH BLOODY HELL!” Penny opens the window with vigor. She is about to step onto the balcony, when something small and black flies into the flat. Penny screams and ducks her head.

I bolt from the table and grab the first thing I see -- in this case, a dish towel, hanging off a chair -- and start whipping it towards the… bird? No… not a bird… a BAT! How did a bloody bat make it all the way here!?

The bat dives straight towards me as I keep whipping the towel to deter it. I stumble into the kitchen and pull out a spatula. It isn’t ideal, but I don’t want to hurt the thing, just get it out of my flat. The bat keeps trying to reach me, but I’m waving the spatula at it. I’m hoping to move towards the window again and push it outside, when Penny shouts.

“Simon! It’s got something in its claws!

As if on cue, the bat drops the item it’s been holding the whole time. I pick up the item and inspect it; An ivory wand with a leather grip. Baz’s wand.The little bat lands on the bookshelf and perches upside down. Penny sees the wand and looks to the bat. She figures it out before I do and begins to laugh.

“Oh… BASIL! How did this happen?!” The little bat -- BAZ -- chirps angrily at Penny and dives towards her. She screams again and dives under the table. “Keep that up, Basil, and we’ll see if I bother helping you!” Bat-Baz flies towards me. I open my hands and he lands in them. I gently close them and hold him softly. I lift him up to my face and take a good look at him. He certainly looks like a bat, but I can see the few elements that are true to Baz and Baz only. Such as the angry little scowl on his face. I softly run my thumb over his little head, something that human-Baz likes, in an effort to calm him down.

“Baz? Oh… Baz…” Bat-Baz nuzzles my hand and hides his face between his wings. My heart softens for him, because he’s probably mortified that I’m having to see him like this. Penny steps up behind me and studies my little bat-boyfriend. She lowers her glasses and gets a good look at him, small smirk appearing on her lips.

“You know, I almost prefer Baz like this. How sad is that?”

Bat-Baz hisses at Penny and begins to flap his tiny little wings at her. I turn away from Penny giving her a dirty look. “Penny! Stop! Don’t upset him. He’s already embarrassed!” I start to gently rub his little head again and scratch his little bat wings. It’s something Baz does for me when I’m upset and I like it. It seems to calm him down.

Penny has walked back to the table and sat down. She rests her chin on her hand and starts to think. I place Bat-Baz on my shoulder and walk to join her. He hops up on top of my head and nestles in my curls. “So, how do we fix this?”

Penny shrugs, “I don’t know. There aren’t spells available for this type of transformation. You both know how spells work. The language has to be specific.”

Bat-Baz flies from my head and lands on the comic book that I’ve been reading. I follow him and pick it up (Batman: Year One). Of course! Batman is incredibly popular, especially the campy TV show from the 60’s (I’ve watched a lot of those reruns. They are more than a little absurd).

“BATMAN!” Penny shouts enthusiastically. Bat-Baz flies back to my hands and lands inside. Penny points her (brand new) ring at him and shouts in a loud, clear voice:

“NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA BAT-MAN!” The jewel on her ring glows a very bright purple over Bat-Baz’s tiny body. But nothing happens. I start to look him over, and he gives me an exasperated look almost as if to say “What are you expecting to find, Snow?”

“Nothing happened… Penny… he’s still a bat…” I sigh. Penny raises her hands up in the air and shrugs.

“Well, I’m trying Simon! But this is all new to me!” Bat-Baz flies up to my face and nudges my lips with his little head, before returning to my opened hands. Penny suppresses a laugh as she understands what needs to happen.

“Simon… You may have to kiss him…” I stare in disbelief at Penny, and back at Bat-Baz. It sounds absolutely nutters, but if it’ll change Baz back into himself, then I’ll do it.

I raise him up to my face again: “I know you wanted to try something new, Baz.. but this is really something, yeah?” Bat-Baz raises a tiny eyebrow and sticks his tongue out at me, mockingly. I laugh at him and bring him closer to my mouth. I whisper softly in his ear: “Don’t get any ideas in that disturbed little head of yours.” Bat-Baz looks away from me, and I swear I see the slightest bit of pink underneath his black fur. I bring his tiny face close to me and plant a small kiss on his bat lips.

Bat-Baz immediately starts glowing a violently bright purple colour. I bolt towards our bedroom, shouting a thanks to Penny. It may be rude, but I get the feeling Baz will come back completely stark-naked and I don’t need him to be further embarrassed.

I place Bat-Baz on the bed and watch as the transformation takes over... and... I was right. He ends up being magnificently naked. Human-Baz stretches his arms and back and sighs heavily.

I want to do so many things to him right now, but I figure it’s best to let him get reacquainted with his body. I pull out some clothes and hand them to him. I give him a small peck on his cheek and run my fingers through his black hair.

“You alright?”

“I am going to kill my step-sister.” He grumbles as he pulls on a pair of trousers. I cannot help but laugh at him. Baz shoots a glare at me and I shut up. I pull my mobile from my pocket and hand it to him. I imagine he’s going to want to call his parents to tell them he’s alright.

Baz dials a number, while I hold onto his hand. I lean my head on his shoulder, thankful that he’s alright and that today’s disaster left us both with minimal damage. Baz’s back straightens up as he begins to yell into the phone.

“I swear to Merlin, Mordelia, if you use a Potter spell again, I will snap your wand myself! How many times do I have to tell you, Rowling’s spells are dodgy at best!?”

I place my hand on his shoulder and begin to rub it, in an effort to calm him down. Baz is back to normal… Thank Crowley for that.

Though I think he’s gotten a mad idea in his head…

Git…

#simon snow #baz pitch #BAT-BAZ #fic for some art #my writing #i am so sorry #carry on #wayward son

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twinklecheeks · 5 years

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Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 4

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: I think I said the gender reveal was going to be in this chapter but I moved it to the next chapter. Don’t worry! Part 5 will be released sometime tomorrow. Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does. You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there is any. I’m just illiterate lmao.

Warnings! pregnancy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,

Word Count: 1.8k

For the past couple of weeks, David has been spending a lot more with y/n. He always asks her if she’s okay or if she needs to do errands, that he can help, he basically doesn’t want her to lift a finger. Y/n has noticed how much David has been with her and she likes it. He may seem like a wild child on the vlogs but David has always been a sweetheart. Y/n has always loved that side of David. He would drop everything for the people he cares about.

David took a day off from vlogging and you guys had a movie night in his theater room. Y’alls favorite movies to watch together has always been marvel movies. While you guys were watching Thor Ragnarok, you felt this pain in your stomach. He paused the movie cause he saw you were feeling uncomfortable. David: “Are you okay? Is it the babies? Do you need to go to the ER??” Y/n: “David calm down. It hurt but I’m pretty sure the babies just kicked.” David got all excited like a little kid. David: “OOOO CAN I FEEL” Y/n: “Haha sure.” It took a minute but one of the babies kicked where David’s hand was placed. David: “Woah. This is so cool.” He then starts to talk to the twins. David: “Hey little David Jr. I’m your uncle David. You may not know it but I care about you two so much and I can’t wait to meet you in April.” She runs her fingers through his hair as he’s talking to your stomach then he looks up at y/n and her heart is beating like crazy. He scoots himself back up to sit normally and you just snuggle him. Your eyes met with his and he gives you a sweet passionate kiss. You can hear each other’s hearts beating like crazy. The movie ends and you were heading out but David stops and kisses you again. David: “You don’t have to leave. You can spend the night here. It’s really late and they’re some crazy drivers out there… You can sleep in the guest room or in my room and I can sleep the guest-” You cut him off. Y/n: “Yes I’ll spend the night in your room.” David: “Okay so I’ll sleep in the guest ro-” Y/n: “No. In your room. I’d feel bad that I kicked you out of your room.” David: “Ummm uh okay.” Y/n: “And no funny business” you joke. David: “it’s not like it can get worse. You’re already pregnant.” You try to look offended by the joke and he sees your expression. David: “I’M SORRY I’M SORRY IT WAS A JOKE I SHOULDN’T HAVE SAID THAT.” Y/n: “I was kidding you dummy.” You walk into his room and you had no clothes because you weren’t planning to spend the night. Y/n: “Hey can I borrow a shit. I don’t have anything to sleep in.” He hands you one of his many black shirts and you get into bed. Both of you just stare at each other in adoration. David: “I like you.” Your eyes go wide because you were surprised and he looks panicked that he just said that. Y/n: “Don’t worry… I like you too.” You guys kiss again and fall asleep.

Ultrasound day

You wake up to David’s arm wrapped around you, rubbing your stomach. You smile and he wakes up to the babies kicking his hand. David: “Wow. They must like me.” Y/n: “They aren’t the only ones that do…” You turn around and give him a morning kiss. He gazes into you eyes and smiles. Y/n: “Hate to be the party pooper but I have to go back home and get ready. I have an ultrasound appointment in 3 hours and the doctor is gonna tell Kylie what the genders are so she can throw a gender reveal party in a couple of days.” David: “Can I come? I’ve never been to an ultrasound appointment before. I never even went when my mom had my 3 younger siblings because I wasn’t interested but now I am.” Y/n: “Sure. the appointment is at 11am at Cedar Sinai Hospital and Kylie & Stass are gonna be there.” David: “Okay. I’ll make sure to be there early.” Y/n: “I’ll see you later.” Before you leave, you kiss David and you both smile.

You get back to your place, get ready and drive to Kylie’s place so you, her and Stass can go together. Stass: “Are you excited??” Y/n: “I’m just really nervous. If I have both of one gender, I better have 2 of the opposite whenever I have more kids in the future. I hate uneven numbers.” Kylie: “Are we the only ones going?” Y/n: “ummmm, David is coming.” Stass: “Why did you say it that way? Did something happen between you two?” Y/n: “uhhhhhwekindakissedandspenthenighttogether” Kylie: “YOU SLEPT WITH HIM.” Y/n: “NO. Not like that. We were watching a movie, we kissed and then we slept in the same bed & cuddled. THAT’S IT.” Kylie: “hmmm, okay.” Stass: “Soooo are you guys a thing?” Y/n: “Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t wanna stress myself about it.”

You three show up and see David waiting in his Tesla. You guys meet up at a secret entrance to the hospital because if paparazzi see Kylie, they’re gonna think she’s pregnant again. David: “Hey. I got here a bit early so I wouldn’t get lost. Y/n: “I told them about last night…” He laughs nervously and looks at Kylie and Stass. Kylie: “If you hurt her-” Stass: “We’ll hurt you :)” They said that in a “I’m deadass gonna beat your ass smile.” We get into the room and the Doctor comes in. Doctor: “Hey y/n, how are those twins treating you?” Y/n: “They’re kicking me like crazy. I think they’re gonna become soccer players or something.” Doctor: “At least that’s a good sign that they’re well. So I hear were going to be finding out the genders? Y/n: “Yes but can you write it in an envelope for Kylie? She’s doing a gender reveal party for me in a couple of days.” Doctor: “Sure. Let me just take a look at those babies.” She puts the cold jelly and you see your twins all snuggled up together.” David: “That’s so cute.” Doctor: “It looks like both babies are measuring at about 15 weeks and 5 days. Which is normal. You might want to look away now. I’m gonna check what these babies are.” All of you wanted to look but you had to wait. The doctor wrote the gender on both babies in 2 different envelopes. It made you feel like you were having a boy and a girl buuuut the doctor could’ve done that on purpose… Doctor: “You can look now. Everything seems perfectly fine with the babies. I should see you again in 2-3 weeks.” David: “So when’s the gender reveal party?” Kylie: “It’s in 2 days. Everything is ready and this was the last thing we needed.” David: “I’ll see you guys later. I have to film some stuff. *kisses y/n on the cheek* bye.”

David talking/thinking to himself:

The doctor said she was 15 weeks and 5 days… *David counts back when y/n would’ve gotten pregnant* Hmmm, that’s the week when we went to Chicago. But y/n doesn’t know anyone there… Those fights between her and Jeff… I had my suspicions on who’s the father but I think it’s Jeff. Maybe I’ll ask him later tonight when we film…

Later that night:

David: “Hey Jeff, can I talk to you for a sec?” Jeff: “yeah sure.” David: “I want you to be honest. Did you and y/n hookup while we came back from Chicago?” Jeff: “why? Did she tell you that?” (David has to think quick) David: “Yeah, I was planning on asking her out and I was suspecting that there was something going on because of the fights in my backyard.” Jeff: “well, yeah we did hook up but that’s history. We were never together anyways. Doesn’t bother me if you date her.”

David: “okay cool. See you tomorrow.” *David panics a bit.” David: “oh shit. So Jeff really is the father… Has she told him? Because he’s acting like he doesn’t know. *David texting u/n: “hey. Can I come over and talk to you?” Y/n: “yeah sure.

Y/n POV

You just got a random text from David. Maybe he’s gonna ask about us? Idk. About 30 minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. Y/n: “Hey David, what did you want to talk about?” David: “I’m sorry if you get offended or make you uncomfortable but I have to ask you this…” Y/n: “Ask me what??” David: “Is Jeff the father of your babies?” You go wide eyed. Y/n: “Who did you hear that from?” You ask that assuming one of the girls accidently telling him or someone else. David: “No one, I kind of connected the dots.” Y/n: “Oh yeah, what dots did you connect?” David: “The two fights you and Jeff had in my backyard, he’s the only person you didn’t tell you were pregnant and how many weeks you are. I counted back the weeks and it was when we came back from Chicago in July. I even asked him if you hooked up and he confirmed.” You stand there like a deer in headlights. Y/n: “One, you had no right to ask that, two, are you saying he might know that he’s the father???” David: “No no no I didn’t tell him why I asked. I just said because I was planning on asking you out and I was suspecting that there was something going on because of the fights in my backyard.” Y/n: “I mean I can’t blame you, it’s not like it wasn’t obvious… Stass knew right as I told her.” David: “Don’t you think he should know?” Y/n: “I mean yes but the way he treated me before, what makes you think he’s gonna change? And plus, he’s with Natalie. I don’t want to ruin that. It’ll look like I hid so long on purpose.” David: “But he has to know. You may not be together but he’s responsible. You’re having 2 babies. One is hard enough but two? You’re gonna be stressed out of your mind. And don’t you doubt that none of us wouldn’t help you.” Y/n: “When should I tell him?” David: “I don’t know… The gender reveal is in 2 days. I mean, it’s only 8pm right now.” Y/n: “I think we should tell Natalie first… If I tell Jeff first, he’s gonna run to Natalie telling lies.”

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Oooooo bih Y/n is gonna tell Natalie & Jeff.... How do you think they’ll react? Will Jeff deny that those are his kids? What do you guys thing the gender’s of the babies are gonna be? We just gonna have to find out later today. I was gonna say tomorrow but It’s 1am when I’m posting this lol.

Sorry if I got your hopes up that I said the gender reveal was going to be in this chapter! I’m about half way done w/ chapter five and it’ll be out earlier than usual tomorrow.

Comment if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @elvlogsquad @siemprestan @zavidzobrik @galxydefender @iminlovewithenchilidadas @ilsolee

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helenarasmussen87 · 4 years

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Writing Asks

This the post where I know no one is going to ask me anyway.

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Something that is like a “Oh hey, what happens if we do THIS!” and go from there. Usually ends up having loads of emotions, comfort, angst, introspection, loads of kitchen sink dialogues, not too much action. Families, happy endings.

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Fluffy stuff and humourous stuff. I am a little too serious for either one and my humour is drier than the desert and very odd. So no.

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Teacher and Student relationships. Necrophilia, abuse of all sorts, underage. Just not my thing. I’ve gotten unable to stomach a lot of grimdark and super dark stuff as I get older so I won’t write it. But go ahead if that’s your thing.

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Two, since I can’t have more than two on the burner. Learned THAT early on and they’re Terror AU’s One is a fixit, but with health complications and angst. The other is a Modern Day AU which has two professors falling in love after one gets injured and the other worked as an EMT and helps to take care of him and they fall in love.

5. Share one of your strengths.

I can offer insights on what flows and what doesn’t. I can also happily shred my own drafts if they don’t work.

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

Action. I work at it, but it’s not my favourite. Or war writing.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“Danny had to turn his head away to hide his smile, because he knew that it was a legitimate concern for Jose. Most of the time, he had jumped into bed with his partners first and then did the mating dance.

Although extremely smart in other aspects, dating and social interactions were always a bit skewed, because he was always second-guessing himself and nervous as hell.

“That’s actually how things work out in these situations. At least it did for me and my ex and for me and Claude.” Danny explained calmly, making Jose nod and take another pull of his slurpee.

“So what do I do? Like is there a time when I bring up the possibility of us sleeping together?” Jose asked, the words slightly mumbled as he chewed on the straw.

“You don’t bring it up. You’ll just know when the time is right for it to happen. Sex isn’t what a relationship should be built on. Yes, it’s nice and it’s part of it, but it’s not the end all to be all. Trust me on this. It will happen if it’s meant to happen.” Danny explained, hoping that he had put it all in the plainest and simplest terms he could for his friend.

I am proud of this because it was majorly borrowing from life and I can see the difference from earlier writing.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“Sergio laughed shortly. “I’ve already done enough of that, and look at where it’s gotten you. Yeah, legally I hold claim over you. I could make the club buy out your contract and sit at home all day, having litter after litter.”

Iker’s blood froze at that and he turned to look at Sergio to see if he really meant it, but Sergio’s face gave nothing away.

“Or I could sign your rights to the club and let them sell you wherever or to whomever. Take you out of Spain, or sell you to Getafe or Malaga. All of these things I could do. The club actually did bring it up at that meeting you didn’t show up for.”

Iker blinked, his hands going numb as Sergio’s wickedly honed words hit home.

“I’m not telling you this to hurt you. Or make you feel indebted. I’m telling this to you because you’re this close to losing your spot and that’s the last thing I want for you. But there’s only so much I can do for you.”

He sighed and looked at Iker dead in the eyes.

“I miss him too, Iker. I miss Antonio every fucking day. And I miss you.”

Iker swallowed hard as Sergio abruptly turned and left, slamming the front door and freeing him from the command so suddenly that Iker fell onto the couch and curled up in it.

He had no energy to do anything else. Not when he was all too aware he’d fucked up and fucked up big and needed to fix it.

Borrowed from life again and it was more of a dialogue that needed to be had when you finally realize how much you fucked up and how much you need to stop coasting and make it right.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

ALL OF THEM! Kidding. I want to say the one I’m working on right now. I was lucky enough I got a ton of help fleshing it out. I can see the end of the 1st chapter and I am having a hell of a time writing Goodsir’s chunk. He’s turned out more emo and romantic than I was expecting.

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

The QuiObi prompts for the prompt week. Took me like two hours to knock them off and post.

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

Its a passion and a hobby. It helped me through a lot of rough patches and keeps me sane.

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Mostly music or a change in life. I tend to write when everything is in flux with me.

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Just write. Worry about editing later. Once you have something on the paper, fixing it up becomes easier.

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Edit as you write. You don’t get anything done.

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Oooh. I think it’s a toss up between my Qui-Gon/Jango fic in a pastoral setting where they have put their pasts behind and are farmers on Concord Dawn. Or the Werewolf fic I wrote during my RPF phase.

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Bloody hard. I would have to say Fitzier (Commander Fitzjames/Captain Crozier)

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Depends. Sometimes I go straight from beginning to end and sometimes I end up writing the middle and not figuring it out until later.

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

Outlines. I have notebooks I jot down point form notes about the characters and the plot.

18. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Mine is a librarian or an alchemist trying to figure out answers and how things fit in.

19. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

A good playlist. Alone, in my room.

20. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

I revise it along the way when I sit down to write. Then before I post, I give it a once over to make sure it flows and makes sense.

21. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

All my old fics are honestly gone so I’m skipping this one.

22. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Honestly? The Duo and Heero one I wrote about them being in an abusive relationship where they split up, then got back together again. I was again writing from life, and I have seen couples who did overcome it, but looking back, I think I should have written it that they separated and went their own ways.

Keep in mind I was very young when I wrote this, and I was in an abusive relationship myself and didn’t realise it at the time. He hit me once, apologised and never did it again. But he did end up manipulating me, gaslighting me, and emotionally abusing me until I finally had enough and left.

23. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Yes. Loads of them due to me not wanting to finish them. Or the hosting sites going under.

24. What do you look for in a beta?

Someone who is honest, someone who knows the way I write, and has suggestions to fix those said things. But someone who is themselves is the best. Because they know what they want. Same here.

25. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I do, simply due to lack of steady betas. Flow and story telling, but I also look for syntax and formatting as well as grammar. I will miss typos, so I run spell-check too. I mostly use a mental rubric. Teacher training.

26. How do you feel about collaborations?

I haven’t had a successful one due to the second person always deciding that they can’t follow through or up and disappearing. So I don’t do them.

27. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oh my God! I read so much and so many different people that I can’t pinpoint three. I usually end up reading a fic or two, so I can’t say why I read the author.

28. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I haven’t done that. I do admit to having inspired by fics. I wouldn’t ever presume to do that. It just feels like a snub.

29. Do you accept prompts?

Not really. I can’t tailor write stuff consistently.

30. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

Oh always! I end up liking the characters that somehow never make it until the end. And in the Terror, unless you want to write angst all the time, you HAVE to ignore canon. And I mean BOTH the book and the show, since the book is nasty. The show is amazing, but oh my god is it depressing.

31. How do you feel about smut?

Yes damned please!

32. How do you feel about crack?

Depends on how well it’s done. Sometimes it is needed. Sometimes it’s like “Why?”

33. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

A bit tricky. I don’t mind non-con, but it has to be handled well. Dub-con, especially in A/B/O happens within context and it is usually dealt with. So I can tolerate that more than the first. Outright abuse, no.

34. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Yes. Not often thought. But yes. I usually try and keep as many alive as I can though.

35. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3, its a wild place and I love it for that reason.

36. Talk about your current wips.

It’s an AU where two professors that live in the same building and work in different faculties get thrown together and start to get to know each other. Due to circumstance, one gets injured and the other kind of volunteers to help take care of him, where they fall in love. The others in the vicinity do also. There’s Canadian shenanigans and baking.

37. Talk about a review that made your day.

That they really liked how I wrote Frank Randall and would like to see more with his son, an OC I created for the story.

38. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I either delete, or give a generic reply and leave it. I’ve got stuff to do.

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

Nope. It just doesn’t work for me.

*somewhere I fucked up on the number but here you are*

Whoever wants to do this.

#about the author #asks #memes

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hwarang-number · 4 years

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[Fic] The Distance Between You and Me (Pt 1)

Pairing: Jonghyun/Minho (Jongho)

Rating: T (at the moment; may change with Pt 2)

Word Count: 5,112

Summary: The moon loved a herdsboy: a sun-bronzed youth with eyes like dark stars, set in a face so beautiful that Jonghyun (for such was the name of the moon, or rather the god who embodied it) lay his head upon his arms and wept at the thought of it. Myth!AU written for Jjong’s Month 2020.

A/N: I’m painfully new to SHINee fic, so I’m certain this must be an overdone trope/prompt, but when I read “write a one-shot titled after one of [Jonghyun’s] songs or lyrics (can also be songs he wrote for SHINee or other artists),” all I could think of was “Selene,” with moon!Jonghyun/shepherd!Minho. Because I’m so new to this and had so little time, I leaned heavily on my established writing style from previous fandoms/projects, which I fear may have resulted in a terribly cheesy end product. But I really wanted to at least try after a dear writer friend expressed her excitement at the prospect of me writing such a fic. <3

I was really pressing to get this whole thing done in time (it was intended to be a oneshot and will eventually be posted to AO3/AFF as such), but the past month has been a non-stop string of personal crises and it just wasn’t happening, no matter how hard I tried. :( I’ve written about half of Pt 2 and am hoping to get it finished and posted within a couple of weeks; in the meantime: please forgive typos/clumsy wordage/other glitches (my brain has been short-circuiting of late with stress and lack of sleep).

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The moon loved a herdsboy: a sun-bronzed youth with eyes like dark stars, set in a face so beautiful that Jonghyun (for such was the name of the moon, or rather the god who embodied it) lay his head upon his arms and wept at the thought of it. The youth was lean and long-limbed, his body shaped for finer pastimes than the pursuit of wayward goats, and wore his hair tied at the nape with a scrap of red ribbon.

Such ribbons were easily caught upon branches or tugged free by the impish breeze who admired the herdsboy in his turn – and the fall of soft black hair about that handsome face – and Jonghyun kept a treasure box of them behind a loose stone on the back of his altar, the most precious of which still bore strands of long black hair.

In winter, the herdsboy wound a length of coarse wool about his throat and wrapped his long, beautiful legs with goatskins against the chill of wind and snow.

He was a merry youth, laughing often – at the antics of children or the foolishness of his goats – in an unlikely, high-pitched tremolo that doubled him over and as often as not, sent him tumbling to the ground, clutching his stomach in mirth, and Jonghyun could never hear enough of it. And each night the boy crooned to his flock in the gentlest voice Jonghyun had heard in centuries of surveying the earth: husky and low and so impossibly sweet that it stilled the breath in the moon god’s lungs and brought tears to his eyes.

He was – everything.

And were the rest insufficient: the youth was devout, attending Jonghyun’s temple daily with a plump skin of his richest milk for the priestesses, who blushed at his smiles and silently lamented their vows, and he routinely brought the prettiest and most docile of his goat kids for them to rear and make pets of.

His hut lay hard-by Jonghyun’s temple, and every eve he stabled his goats just before sunset and returned to lay some additional token upon the altar before Jonghyun ascended to illuminate the night sky. A handful of berries still warm from his palm, a piece of honeycomb wrapped in green leaves, or perhaps a soft goat cheese rolled in lavender; some small edible to help sustain the moon ere he began his night’s work.

And every evening Jonghyun waited, lovesick and trembling in the shadows behind his altar, ever aching to rise and peer over the stone a heartbeat sooner, to catch a glimpse of the herdsboy’s large, lustrous eyes instead of his lean silhouette and the bob of his hair tail – for he always, endearingly, tidied his appearance before entering the temple – as he made his way home.

Jonghyun had so little with which to demonstrate his favor and was afraid to make a spectacle of it, and so each night he lingered a little longer above the herdsboy’s hut, as though he could saturate the thatch with the silver light of his adoration and the boy would welcome it.

This was the very essence of foolishness, for the boy cherished his slumber and begrudged any interruption of it, but on the very best nights, when the sky was clear of clouds and Jonghyun’s pale light illumined the landscape as brightly as day, the boy would leave his hut to bathe in the nearby stream, which flowed beneath Jonghyun’s temple and kept it cool throughout the summer. Caught in moonlight, water shimmered like diamonds along every contour of that long, lean body, and Jonghyun keened with longing to trace the paths of those drops with his fingertips and lap them up where they pooled in the shadowy hollows of the youth’s form.

Kibum, naturally, found his agony ridiculous.

Bed him, for pity’s sake, the sun urged his brother in exasperation. Slip beneath his coverlets at dawn and rouse him with kisses, or court him properly and make him your consort. There’s no law against it, neither for you nor the boy.

But Jonghyun knew better. While it was nowhere forbidden for god nor mortal to take another man for a lover – indeed, Kibum had enjoyed many such already – a mortal man wanted a bride and babes: a beautiful woman to share his bed and keep his home and birth his children; a legacy of his own body.

The herdsboy was of age to be married, some four winters now, and while maidens openly admired his face and form and he had received suits from many hopeful fathers-in-law, he had yet to choose a bride.

Clearly, only the rarest beauty would do for him.

Jonghyun found himself waning sooner and longer, his slim body growing thinner still, and one morning just before dawn, a scowling Kibum took the reins from his hand and replaced them with a stout, steaming elixir.

The people fear that the moon is displeased – or ailing, he warned. The spring festival is scarcely a fortnight hence. Sleep now, fortify yourself, and find some way to demonstrate your favor, and swiftly.

I’ll blossom the apples for you, Kibum offered, laying an uncommonly gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his brow. But you must act on this boy or put him behind you. The very earth feels the pull of your longing; surely this herdsboy cannot be immune to it.

But he was; surely he was, for each day the herdsboy smiled brightly as ever as he led his goats to pasture and back again, cheerful and whistling and thoroughly unaffected. Perhaps his offerings had grown a little heartier – he left a cheese every day now, for it was too early for any wild fruits, as well as an apple or pear from his winter store and sometimes even a small loaf of coarse bread, made by his own strong hands – but this was easily attributed to his devotion to the moon god. Others had also cautiously increased their offerings, for while Jonghyun was not known as a wrathful being – indeed, he could afflict mankind little more than by ceasing to shine at night, something he did once every 28 days regardless – Kibum had spoken truly, and there was uncertainty and concern at his present, prolonged waning.

Wearied by Kibum’s directive and the weight of constant lonely longing, Jonghyun took himself to earth and sat beneath an apple tree, one of several in the meadow that flanked the herdsboy’s hut, wrapping his silver foxskin about him as a coverlet and nestling his chin amidst its plush pile. It was the first truly warm morning of the new season, and he watched through his lashes as the herdsboy emerged from his hut and unstrapped the goatskins from his legs with a jubilant cry, then sat on his stoop and sighed with pleasure at the warmth of Kibum’s light on his winter-paled shins.

No, this one belonged to Kibum’s world of sunshine and merriment, not Jonghyun’s soft darkness and melancholy and lullabies.

Jonghyun tipped his head back against the trunk and let his eyes fall closed, the lids heavy with unshed tears.

He had surely drowsed no more than a minute when he was startled awake by the soft low voice he loved so well, so nearby that his heart stumbled in his chest.

“Have you breakfasted, stranger?” the herdsboy asked, and Jonghyun opened his eyes to find the youth crouched before him: near enough to touch, were he to stretch out a hand; closer than they had ever been before, with the innermost edges of his brows raised in concern: an expression Jonghyun had long adored.

Face to face, he was so beautiful Jonghyun could not draw a breath, and so he gave no reply, expecting the youth would direct him to the temple, for it was an easy distance and the priestesses always fed travelers – and the herdsboy was unmistakably headed there himself, for already he bore the plump goatskin bag over one shoulder.

Instead, he leaned forward to lay the backs of his fingers against Jonghyun’s forehead, brows knitting as he sought for fever, and the moon – feverish in truth, if not in a way that mortals might detect – trembled beneath his touch.

“You are pale with exhaustion,” the herdsboy observed with a frown. “Have you no proper place to lay your head for a few hours? My hut stands just yonder,” he explained, throwing back an arm in explanation, “and my goats are freshly milked. I will make you grain porridge with milk and honey, and you may sleep awhile upon my cot.”

At this something buckled in Jonghyun, like the latch upon a floodgate, for even gods may dream impossible things. “You need not,” he whispered in token protest, but he was truly so very weary with lovesickness and the sleeplessness that follows in its wake, and all at once the boy caught up Jonghyun in his arms. Those lean, strong arms he had ached for so long to envelop him now curled beneath his back and knees, hefting his body as though he weighed no more than a moonbeam.

The youth smelled of wood fires and warm milk, of goat-musk and boy-musk and the last of winter’s chill, and Jonghyun clenched his eyelids against a tide of hot tears.

“You are so spent you can scarce keep your eyes open,” the boy worried. “Or are you ill in truth?”

Jonghyun shook his head, for he did not trust his voice, and buried his face in the boy’s tunic – poor peasant’s cloth, softened by countless washings in the stream and saturated with the scents of the boy’s body. At this proximity he could feel the pulse of the boy’s heart beneath his cheek: quick and hard – no doubt, at the burden of another’s body in his arms, however small and slight.

Surely it was Jonghyun’s imagination, but it seemed the boy cradled him closer as he carried him to his hut and inside, to lay him carefully upon a thin straw pallet near the hearth.

“My cover is unequal to your own,” the boy said ruefully, glancing between the coarse patchwork of goatskins that served him as a blanket and the lush silver fur that currently lay over Jonghyun, but the moon caught the boy’s hand as he made to withdraw the humble coverlet.

“By your leave, I will enjoy them both,” he pled, a little hoarsely. “For I am grown thin these days and feel the cold more keenly.”

“The day promises to be warm,” the herdsboy said with a smile, tucking the goatskins around Jonghyun as well. “But I would not have you take chill in my home.”

He quickly prepared a grain porridge, hot and hearty, with generous measures of milk and honey, then propped Jonghyun’s back against the wattle and daub and chafed his feet between long, strong hands as Jonghyun raised each spoonful to his mouth with trembling fingers.

“Still you are shivering,” the boy remarked, and snugly bundled the covers about Jonghyun’s feet before adding more wood to the hearth, then brought him an apple for good measure.

“I must take the goats to pasture,” the boy told him, almost regretfully, and shouldered the skin bag of milk once more. “And I must visit the market as well this day, but freely avail yourself of any of my meager comforts. I will return before sundown to stable the goats, and –”

“I must depart before sundown,” Jonghyun interrupted him, so gently, but still the admission cracked his heart, for he ached to hear the boy’s intentions for the evening, however impossible. Surely he meant to offer Jonghyun a portion of his supper, perhaps even a place to sleep for the night…

“Of course,” the boy said softly, as though he had expected this answer, and Jonghyun closed his eyes once more, this time with regret.

Something brushed his forehead then, something light and warm and fleeting, making Jonghyun’s scalp prickle with pleasure, but when he opened his eyes, the boy had gone.

Porridge and apple lay forgotten as the moon cried himself to sleep, face buried in a straw pallet that smelled of the herdsboy’s body and a goatskin patchwork drawn over his head.

To his astonishment, and in spite of his grief, he slept better than he had in nearly a decade – since first he had glimpsed the herdsboy as a merry child with sunburned cheeks, all lanky limbs and a curly tangle of black hair that defied the confines of ribbons – and he rose mid-afternoon with a fine appetite and devoured cold porridge and apple in minutes, with several mugfuls of goat’s milk, and even caught himself perusing the herdsboy’s larder for more. It was humble and scanter than Jonghyun would have guessed in light of the gifts the boy always left at the temple, and Jonghyun forbade himself any further repast – for he had food aplenty at home, but this boy did not.

“I could feed you,” he whispered, circling the mouth of the nearly empty flour jar. “Such food as you could scarce dream of, and you could pasture your goats among the stars.”

He let himself think of the kiss – if indeed it had been such – only thrice, stroking the place on his forehead where the herdsboy’s lips had touched him. A brow kiss was a blessing; a well-wishing, seen as often betwixt kin as lovers, and the boy – this vibrant, beautiful, perfect boy who laughed with his whole being – had found Jonghyun all but crumpled beneath a tree, wearied to a thread and thin as a beggar’s child.

No, if he had kissed Jonghyun’s brow before departing, it was motivated by compassion, which the herdsboy possessed in no short supply, not ardor.

As desperately as Jonghyun wished to replenish the boy’s larder – to burst it at its seams with parcels of rich food and drink, then exchange his humble straw pallet and goatskins for a marble pedestal pillowed with deep cushions and draped in furs – he knew he dared not, for the boy could not know that a god – let alone the moon himself, who loved him to distraction – had slept on his cot and eaten his porridge; that he had carried a god to his own bed and chafed his feet warm and kissed his brow. Jonghyun would – must – remain a weary traveler to him, grateful for his generosity but too poor to repay it in any material means.

With this in mind, Jonghyun carried both pallet and goatskins outside, to air them upon the sun-warmed grass and dry the damp left by his tears, then he swept the hut from stoop to sills, for tidying the boy’s home would demonstrate Jonghyun’s thankfulness while costing him nothing, nor betraying his true identity.

You are the veriest fool, declared Kibum; faintly, for he was quite some ways off, in Jonghyun’s mind. If you truly wished to show him favor, you would have pulled him beneath the covers and bade him hold you while you slept, not tidied his home, which little required it.

Jonghyun ignored his brother’s chiding and spent half an hour scouring the meadow for dandelions – there were but three at this early date; their brave yellow faces the very first of the year – to lay upon the herdsboy’s refreshed cot as a token of gratitude.

The hut smelled of Kibum when Jonghyun was finished: of warm grass and meadow-pollen and dusty golden light – as befits the herdsboy, the moon reminded himself when the realization saddened him – and he busied his hands with assembling a meal for the boy upon his return: a simple, hearty potage of root vegetables simmering over the fire and a dish of baked honeyed pears. The nights were still so very cold, and the boy might well be chilled upon his return, in which case a hot meal would be a better reward than any sum of gold.

This being done, Jonghyun stood in the doorway, foxskin wrapped about him and eyes fixed on the empty meadow as Kibum drew the light ever lower. It is not yet your renewal night, came a distant, regretful whisper from just above the horizon. I will give your boy a few minutes more, but if he does not return soon, you must leave without saying goodbye.

Jonghyun’s heart panged, for though he had known it was unlikely that he should see the herdsboy before departing – had expected, even intended as much – still he had hoped the boy would return in time for a farewell greeting. For one final smile, given only to Jonghyun; for another lungful of rustic musk, or a fleeting touch of long fingers.

He ducked back inside the hut, heart sore and eyes burning, and was halfway through lighting the lamps when he heard the first bleat, closer than he could have dreamed. “You came,” he breathed, and ran to the doorway once more to watch the herdsboy chase his goats into their shelter by the fiery orange light of Kibum’s valiantly slowed sunset, barking to hasten them while glancing frantically over his shoulder at the hut, and his handsome face grew radiant with both joy and relief when he caught sight of Jonghyun on the stoop.

Gate bolted and goats secured, the herdsboy reached the hut in four long strides, ruddy-cheeked and panting, his black hair ribbonless and wind-tangled about his shoulders, and Jonghyun thought he had never looked more beautiful.

“I meant to return much earlier,” he said, “but the kids strayed off, and I was so afraid I should miss you –”

“I would not leave without thanking you for your hospitality,” Jonghyun replied, but he lowered his gaze at the boy’s words, feeling his cheeks warm.

The boy slipped a large cloth bag from his shoulder and pressed it into Jonghyun’s hands. “To sustain you on your journey,” he said, adding shyly: “T’was why I went to market this day.”

Jonghyun opened the bag to find a bounty of foodstuffs that would have cost the herdsboy a milk-goat at the very least. A large golden loaf of the finest bread and a portion of cold roast beef, savory roasted nuts, rare citrus fruits, sweet filled pastries, a flask of pale wine, and a fat pouch of honey candies: offering foods of the richest sort. The sort of gift that kings lay upon the altar of their favorite god on feast days – and the very fare Jonghyun had ached to provide to the herdsboy, whom he worshipped in his turn.

“Thank you for visiting this humble place,” the boy said softly, his eyes on the stoop beneath Jonghyun’s bare feet, then he dropped to his knees, bending low to press kisses to each one. “For taking shelter in my home,” he sighed, resting his cheek against Jonghyun’s calf in a gesture of reverent submission that stole the moon god’s breath away.

Jonghyun curled his fingers into fists against the urge to reach down and stroke that wind-tangled hair; to gently lift that face and kneel in turn to bring his own to meet it. “I am not who you believe,” the moon said as evenly as he could manage. “I am a weary traveler only; you gift me far too richly.”

“I would gift you richer still, had I the means,” the herdsboy whispered, and dipped his head to press a kiss to each sensitive ankle bone in turn, making Jonghyun’s thighs tremble.

Kibum’s light flickered warningly, clinging to the very edge of the horizon, and Jonghyun slipped the priceless foxskin from his shoulders. “I am not who you believe,” he said again, his voice quaking beneath the weight of the lie, “and so I will repay your generous gift with one of my own.”

He draped the fur about the herdsboy’s bent form, whimpering silently as he lifted black hair as soft as feathers to lay the garment against the youth’s nape, but before the herdsboy could raise his head and respond, the moon had vanished.

Breathless and shivering, Jonghyun appeared in his temple, to quickly collect the evening’s offerings before his imminent ascent, and his breath caught anew at the sight of a cloth bag; a twin to the herdsboy’s gift, awaiting him upon the altar.

“From your beloved,” the priestesses confirmed, for they were full aware of the moon’s adoration. “He came early and in a feverish hurry, with his entire flock in tow, and had a quarter hour’s labor rounding them up again as they gamboled about the courtyard with their fellows.”

Jonghyun smiled at the image in spite of his state and took the bag from the altar, finding its contents to be identical to the one he already carried – an unimaginable expense for a poor herdsboy – save for a familiar scrap of red ribbon that had seemingly fallen inside as the boy made up the parcels.

He would have sold two goats, Jonghyun realized: fine milking does, substantially reducing his income in order to afford such luxuries – not to mention, needlessly traveling far out of his way to obtain them. And why prepare a second gift – an exorbitant expense – if he intended to bring an offering gift to Jonghyun at his hut?

Because he feared to miss you, Kibum supplied in Jonghyun’s mind, his tone at once impatient and pitying, and Jonghyun joined him a moment later, weighted down with the herdsboy’s gifts.

He knew you for the moon god, Kibum said frankly, tossing the reins without watching to see whether his brother caught them, and was terrified you would depart before he could offer proper tribute, be it upon your altar or upon your person.

The sun god arched one sharp black brow in shameless intimation, and Jonghyun glanced betwixt the reins in his hand and the rich parcels weighing him down at either shoulder. He is…singular in his devotion, he conceded.

He carried you like a lover within moments of your meeting, then laid you in his own bed and departed with a kiss to your brow, Kibum recalled dryly. And when you made to leave him, he showered you with offerings; knelt before you and kissed your feet like he’d never beheld anything so precious. And still you believe him to be merely a pious devotee, who wishes a beautiful maid for his bride?

Jonghyun flicked the reins and set off before Kibum could press the issue, but his brother’s voice followed him into the night sky, gentler now: How can you believe he could never love you when this day he has given overwhelming proof that he already does?

He promised himself again and again that he would take no special notice of the herdsboy as he passed, nor linger above the hut he now knew so well, but his hands faltered at the reins when he spotted his beloved far below, wrapped in Jonghyun’s foxskin against the evening’s chill and seated upon the stoop, a steaming bowl of Jonghyun’s potage cradled between his hands and his face upturned to receive the moon’s light.

Thank you for this day, Jonghyun told him silently, tears burning in his eyes. For your care even more than your gifts, though I cherish them as well, and the sacrifices you made to obtain them. I will find a better way to thank you – to fully reward your kindness.

You know that method already, Kibum informed him upon his return, as though he had been a full participant in Jonghyun’s internal dialogue. Make love to him: this morning, if you like, or if you prefer to be in finer form ere you present your body beneath his coverlets: go to him during the festival, on new moon night. You will have nearly a fortnight to restore your flesh and fully a night and a day to enjoy him.

Jonghyun pondered all of this in the days that followed, as he reverently consumed every last morsel of the herdsboy’s extravagant gifts while seated on the floor behind his altar and absently counted the ribbons in his treasure box. The youth’s offerings had not altered since their encounter: without fail, and despite his decreased supply, still he delivered a full skin of goat’s milk every morning for the priestesses – and Jonghyun too, who always drank a mugful, sweetened with honey, ere he settled to sleep for the day. More often than not now, rather than returning to his palatial bed at home, Jonghyun slept in one of the empty pilgrims’ cells off the temple courtyard, furnished with a straw pallet and thin coverlet and sometimes a goat-kid or two trotting in to lie beside him, for in such a place he could easily imagine that he lay again in his beloved’s bed, and that this time the herdsboy would return early and join him beneath that coverlet.

The boy still came to the temple before sunset with his little tokens – humble once more; a small coarse loaf baked by his own hands, an apple, and almost always a bit of cheese – and now there were dandelions among them, tied with a scrap of red ribbon or, better still, woven into a flower crown, which Jonghyun donned without hesitation and wore on his journey, scenting his hair with the midday meadow and lending a faint golden hue to his light.

The herdsboy gave him dandelions because he had given them first, Jonghyun reasoned, even as such explanations made Kibum apoplectic with exasperation. It was not uncommon for the boy to leave flowers on the altar with his evening gift, nor for Jonghyun to wear them in his hair; he offered dandelions now because there was little else in bloom, or perhaps he had concluded that Jonghyun admired them, having received three of them from the moon himself.

The moon’s visible face waned as appointed as the festival drew near, though Jonghyun swiftly gained back the weight and vigor he had lost with restful sleep and a steady supply of goat’s milk and cheese – and adoration, Kibum chimed in dryly. His gifts nourish you differently now, filled as they are with unabashed love.

Jonghyun blushed and dismissed this with a roll of his eyes, but the festival drew ever nearer, and Kibum wrung from him the promise to spend it in the meadow near the herdsboy’s hut, where there would be feasting and merrymaking and contests of swiftness and skill, in which the youth always took part and excelled.

Kibum had pressed for a greater commitment, of course, even threatening to bar Jonghyun from his celestial duties – to delay the very waxing of the moon – if he did not at least kiss the herdsboy at the festival, but Jonghyun was reluctant to encounter the youth again: afraid, he admitted only to himself, that he would find no repetition of those tender gestures, only a handsome head bowed to the ground in reverence.

The herdsboy, Jonghyun was certain, wanted a beautiful maiden at his hearth and in his bed, and he would surely seek and meet this mate at the festival. And so the moon conceived a plan that would enable him to encounter the youth one final time – and then, he promised himself, he would put such longings behind him forever.

He would guise himself as a young woman, and with little difficulty, for Jonghyun stood a head shorter than the herdsboy and was possessed of a small, fine frame, nipped even slimmer at the waist. His jaw was strong and his cheekbones high, to be sure, but his eyes, dark and delicate, were exquisite as a maiden’s; his nose small and his lips ripe as rosehips. It would take precious little embellishment to give him the semblance of a pretty maiden: a maiden who might openly approach the herdsboy at a festival and share wine with him, perhaps even ask him to dance – an activity beloved by the agile youth, though he only ever partook in the group dances; never alone with a partner.

You are the veriest fool, Kibum sighed, even as he painted Jonghyun’s cheekbones with stardust. Would you truly have him love you as a maid?

He will not love me, Jonghyun assured him. I merely wish to be near him one last time.

Kibum chuckled and shook his head as he cinched an embroidered girdle at Jonghyun’s waist, belling the skirts about his narrow hips and small, thoroughly unfeminine backside. And if he desires to bed you like this? he wondered impishly, darting a hand inside his brother’s blouse to pinch and rouge his nipples, furthering the illusion of breasts beneath, and Jonghyun leapt back with a mortified cry, to the sun’s riotous laughter.

If I drape your loin covering just so, you can lift your skirts and take him inside you without him once knowing that he mates with a male, Kibum offered, even as the moon turned away, face burning, to arrange a veil over the back of his head, concealing the short length of his wavy dark hair.

I’ve done it many a time, the sun assured him. Your positions are limited somewhat, but none are unpleasant in the least –

I will not deceive my beloved into bed! Jonghyun snapped. I go tonight simply to be near him one last time; to be in his presence without the disparity of god and man between us. To laugh and dine and dance with him – and then let him go, to find the maiden he means to wed.

Kibum sighed once more, somber now, and handed Jonghyun his finest earrings. I accept this, though I may not agree, he said quietly. I have observed your beloved in my turn, and I feel this evening may not proceed as you intend. How will you respond if you are the maiden he wishes to wed – or, like as not, he recognizes you as the god he worships daily?

He will do neither, Jonghyun replied, for your disguises are flawless, and he will wed a girl from his village.

If you are wrong, the sun teased, but gently, I sincerely hope I shall not see you back here till tomorrow evening.

If I am right, you shall not see me till then either, Jonghyun told him, for I expect to weep in my temple at least that long once I have freed him of the burden of my love.

You may find him more than eager to bear that burden, Kibum said, and swatted his brother’s backside with clear affection. The apple trees are in bloom, as I promised: go now, and dance and dine and laugh with your boy.

#jjongsmonth #jjongsmonth2020 #i inadvertently made a little prince reference in here and was so happy when i realized it!#my opus in my previous fandom is full of moon imagery and little prince and the fox references #so i really wanted to try it here with jonghyun #the distance between you and me #selene!jonghyun #moon!jonghyun #endymion!minho #selene and endymion #jongho #jonghyun/minho #hohyun #jongho fic #fanfic #my fic

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hutchhitched · 4 years

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Everlark Self-Inteview

Okay, this spiraled out of control. My apologies. Here are some thoughts on this fine Friday.

I posted my first Everlark story in September 2013. I still feel like a newbie in the fandom.

Fanfiction is a creative outlet for me. Some days the muse is strong and feeds me. Some weeks/months it does not. I am never trying to put someone off or delay posting. I know that doesn’t make the wait any easier or shorter.

Be kind to others. We’re all trying.

Edit your story before posting. Typos drive me crazy. Please let me know when I have one. I always go back and fix them when I find them. (Also, read more links are your friend.)

New people come into this fandom every day. It’s intimidating. I’ve been here a long time, and I still feel like no one knows who I am. Find out the history of the fandom, but you don’t apologize for being new. I, for one, am happy you’re here.

The rest of the interview is under the cut. Also, my past interview is here.

Writing process:

Do you outline?

This is going to come up a lot, but the honest answer is it depends on the story. I’ve been writing for a very long time. I’m in my early forties, and I wrote my first story when I was in second grade. Every story I write has its own voice and method and process, but one thing is similar. I’m a thinker. I don’t always write down an outline. I’m a procrastinator, which is code for, “I think about things until I’ve got it organized in my head. Then I’ll write.”

That said, there are some stories that have pretty elaborate outlines. Too Familiar has an outline now, but it didn’t when I started it since it was only supposed to be a one shot. Always Rivals has an outline. End of Love has an outline. All my completed JHutch and Joshifer stories had outlines. I know District 14 and Code Name: Mockingjay need outlines (and am procrastinating on making them). When a story gets long(ish), I end up needing an outline.

Do you use a beta?

Again, it depends on the story. I used to use a beta for everything I wrote. @myusernamehere and @jennagill and @cheeks-and-white-tshirts and @xerxia31 have all been regular betas for me. A few others have looked things over. Now, I tend not to use a beta, although @xerxia31 still glances over a lot of things for me before I post.

Good betas who will tell you if your story is crap and/or needs development or whatever are the best and absolutely amazing. I am super grateful for them. The reason I stopped using one every time is more for timing reasons than anything else. I’m a procrastinator, so asking someone to beta when I’m up against a timeline just isn’t fair to those who are volunteering to help me. Also, I’m a pretty good proofreader and editor, and I’m usually fairly confident about what I want to do in a story. I’ve typically talked out the plot with someone beforehand, so the chapter by chapter beta-ing isn’t needed the same as it used to be.

Do you post right away?

Almost never. Drabble challenges, yes. I’ve actually whipped out some @talesofpanem stories in a couple of hours and posted, but that’s only because of the deadlines. I tend to let a story sit for a while and edit a few times before posting it. It helps catch repetitious words and typos I wouldn’t catch otherwise. I don’t want to post something half-assed because I don’t want to read something half-assed.

I’ve posted one story that was completed before I started. It was a Josh/OC story, so nothing from Everlark. However, that will change with the two @fandomtrumpshate stories I’m writing. Both will be complete and shared with their respective bidders before I start posting to tumblr and AO3. I’m also trying to use this month’s Nanowrimo to finish some stories (or get a big jump on them), so posting time between chapters isn’t so long. I understand people’s frustration. I really do. I’m trying to be better.

Story questions:

Where did the story come from?

Too Familiar—I’ve put this out there before, but here it is again. I was in grad school, and another grad student and I met and clicked instantly. He was married. We became the best of friends and ended up falling madly in love with each other. I honestly believe if soulmates exist, we are it. The hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life is give him up. Eventually (after I moved to Houston), we cut off communication. I talked to him for the first time in eight years last month. He still loves me. He’s still with his wife. He thanked me for the sacrifice I made by letting him go. It is a terrible, awful, horrible situation, and there is no happy ending for either of us. In the story, I tried to give Everlark one, even though it’s messy and complicated and some readers hate both Katniss and Peeta in it. But it happens. People don’t always do things the right way, and that’s what I was trying to show in the story. Sometimes love isn’t fair or right or moral or good. Sometimes it’s painful and raw and means breaking the rules—at least in fanfiction.

Sole Beneficiary—I had an ex-boyfriend who worked nights. He and I still really liked each other, and I was lonely and stressed out in grad school. I used to go over to his place after morning workouts and climb into bed and cuddle with him. He was all sleepy and warm and teddy bear-like, and it was really comforting. It was also really confusing, which is what the story’s about.

Cattle Show—I used to show cattle when I was in 4-H. There was a family from a neighboring town with three brothers. The middle one was named Brett, and he was one of the kindest, sweetest, most gorgeous creatures I’d ever met. His family owned a registered farm with a logo and everything, and my family rented our farm and didn’t have the money to invest in outward appearances. Still, those nights at the fair were some of the best of my childhood memories. Sleeping in the cattle trailers (and me in the bean truck) and hanging out after it was dark and a lot of people drinking and people sneaking off together all happened. I was younger and much more innocent, but those three brothers were always in the middle of it all. Brett was always kind to me, even though I was five years younger and kind of on the outskirt of things. He passed away a few years ago in his early forties, and the world is a darker place because of it.

Which was the easiest to write?

Of the three, Cattle Show is lighter and more fun. It’s also the one that doesn’t really skirt the boundaries of acceptable moral behavior. Because of that, people have accepted it more readily even though the others have gotten more attention.

What is your favorite part of the story?

Too Familiar—I just wrote the exchange between Madge and Katniss, and that was A LOT of fun (and probably not what people are expecting). However, I think my favorite part was when Peeta confesses how he feels about her for the first time and then is absolutely mortified when he does at the end of chapter 1 and beginning of chapter 2. He’s so vulnerable, and she’s so stunned and angry. It’s kind of beautiful and simultaneously heartbreaking.

Sole Beneficiary—I love this line: “I swear someday I’m going to say no to you,” he growls and tugs my clothes off. “Someday I’m going to realize I’m a fool for letting you use me. Someday I’m going to find someone else.”

Cattle Show—There’s some drunk Peeta in there, and I adore writing drunk Peeta.

Were you shocked or disappointed by the reaction the story got?

Too Familiar—Not exactly. It’s gotten a lot of attention on AO3, and not all of it’s good. There are some readers who hate both main characters and say there’s nothing redeeming about either of them and no excuses for their actions. I’m not really sure why they keep reading the story, to be honest. It disappoints me that the story I’m trying to tell about gray areas is being read in black and white terms.

Sole Beneficiary—Not for this one. I’ve been really pleasantly pleased that people seem to want more. I get more requests for this than any other story. I don’t really know why it’s so compelling to so many, but I’m appreciative of the reception.

Cattle Show—I’m always a little surprised when someone tells me this is their favorite. It kinda flew under the radar, so when it comes up, that makes me happy.

Future plans:

Top tier priority—Too Familiar, Three Months, Maybe This Summer, Float Your Boat, Playlist: Home, Hold It

Second tier priority—Always Rivals, Code Name: Mockingjay, Influenza, Sole Beneficiary, District 14

I’ll get to them eventually—Extended Office Hours, The Cipher, Mother of Pearl, Bullseye, We Wish Real, High Society, Go With Me, Hope Boldly, The Doppelganger, The Worst Day, Small Town Secrets, The Cry

#everlarkselfinterview #everlark fanfiction #hutchhitched #i rambled a bit

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psychoangiethings · 5 years

Text

The Bloodline [Roman Godfrey x Reader]

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who are reading this. I’m not sure I am really back in tracks with this story since my Word pissed me off and didn’t save a lot of pages I wrote a few weeks back. But let’s hope that bitch will listen now. Sorry for typos, obviously even turned off automatic correction doesn’t mean shit to Word. Leave some comments, if you like. I’ll be glad.

Warning: Adult themes & language, murder

Other tags: Magic, friends to lovers, slow build, nightmares, witches, upirs, swearing

Summary: After very suspicious car crash that killed both of her parents, Abigail Wolff moves in with her aunt to Hemlock Grove only to discover a truly interesting family history which her father kept from her. As she awakens her powers, something much older and terrifying is coming after her. Or maybe not after her at all.

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Chapter 11 - You’re an idiot

After one class at school I could tell it would be boring day as fuck. It was shitty morning, followed by even shittier class in which my thoughts were similar to someone who's planning some kind of murder. What the fuck was he thinking? Was he an idiot or something? Obviously he was, because what kind of person asked how was it for me to watch my parents die? Retard. And what did he expect for answer? Yeah, man! It was terrific! You should try it sometime with your parents, you'll be thrilled.

I was sitting by my desk, looking out of window and waiting for my biology class to start. Some places in the classroom were still empty but I didn't pay attention. I was thinking about how one could brutally but efficiently kill Roman fucking Godfrey. My grip around my pencil was deadly and my tapping with the pencil's point against pages of my notebook was loud.

"Tell me how it felt to see your parents die."

"Spoiled. Rich. Little. Fucker." I furiously muttered under my nose.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine today?" Peter mocked me and sat down beside me. I didn't even look at him, just tried to calm myself but then I heard the giggle our class dumb bitch let out only when certainsomeone was near. Just to make myself sure I looked around. Yep, there he was. My pencil broke in two.

"Whoah, someone is clearly pissed. What the hell happened?" Peter asked as I bend down to pick what remained of my pencil.

"Nothing. Your retarted friend tried to ask me- No, he did ask me, how it felt to see my parents die. And then he was surprised I didn't answer. What did he expect? Five star review with recommendation?" I wanted to scream at him but I couldn't and knew Peter wasn't in fault here. He didn't do nothing wrong.

"He what?" O-okay, that was so not quiet. Everyone turned their heads in our way and I rolled my eyes.

"Couldn't you be even more louder? I think the principal didn't hear you quite well."

"Idiot, idiot, idiot. He's just an idiot," Peter mumbled to himself as his hand ran through his hair. Then he stood up and made his way to Roman's seat, whispered something to his ear and both of them disappeared. Huh.Weirdos.

"It's official. You're an idiot," Peter started even before he could close the door of empty classroom.

Roman rolled his eyes and openedone of many windows to lit up a cigarette. "Why? Because I asked her what basically everyone would ask her if they would know about what happened to her? I don't think so."

"You don's ask people this kind of questions. You ask them how are they, if they slept good or something but not this, Roman. It's like you're from Ice Age. No filter and no empathy." Peter sighed and shook his head.

"It didn't even worked, Peter. If it worked, she wouldn't remember a thing. I was just curious."

"You... You tried your thing on her, right?" Peter was really amazed. Not only Roman was sometimes dumb as shit but he couldn't tell Abigail was a witch and that was the reason his mesmerizing didn't work out.

"Yeah. It never happened before to me. How's possible it didn't work?"

"Maybe because she isn't into you, is stubborn as fuck and isn't trying to get into your pants? Just guessing," Peter offered his opinion and Roman made a face. Again.

"You just made that up, right?"

"Hey, listen, I don't know but maybe it is because she is stubborn. Look at every other girl in this school or town. They want you and they are easily influenced. This one? Right now she hates your guts."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

In my last class of the day I said to our teacher I'm not feeling well and if I may go to the Girls. And because of this class was our teacher a man, he just waved it away and let me go. And that's how I, ladies and gentlemen, ended up about an hour earlier in my room. I just went home. And theoretically I didn't lie. I was pissed at Roman and tried to ignore him all day but wasn't sure if he didn't prepare another stunt after school like yesterday. So I went home.

I sat on my bed cross-legged, my notebook in front of me, earphones plugged in and I tried to relax. I think I did deserve it. Just a little bit of time for myself. A moment where I could forget my parents were dead, that I was a witch.

Knock. Knock.

It was loud knocking. Not my aunt Erika's knocking. Maybe Peter? I huffed and went to get the door.

As soon as I opened it, I immediately regretted it and tried to close it. A fancy leather shoe stopped me from that. "I just want to apologize."

"You just did. Now get out."

"Come on, just let me in, hear me out."

"Will you then piss off?" Probably not the answer he wanted but I let him in anyway and sat on my bed again, before he could say a thing. Now there was definitely awful silence between us. I was looking at him, he was looking at me and neither of us said a thing.

"I think you wanted to apologize. Is this some kind of special silent treatment?" To be honest he did look a bit nervous.

"Let's be clear, I don't know how to do this properly, let alone right. I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have asked that question. I was just curious. I've never met another person who lost parents."

"What do you mean by another person?"

"When I was a child I found my father dead. He blew his brain out."

"Okay, I did not see that coming," I said after few awkward minutes of silence but the anger was still inside. "Still, it's no excuse to ask how it felt for me. You just don't go and ask people this. It makes you look like Neanderthal man."

Roman raised his hands up in defense and nodded. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can we start again? I promise I won't tell anyone and if someone will have stupid talks how you are my new sex toy or something I will put end to it. Do we have a deal?" He said, surprisingly calm and serious with outstretched hand.

There was this tingle in the back of my neck when I said, "What worse could happen. Fine. But I will deal with gossipers myself. And I try not to comment your sex life. Deal?" I outstretched my own arm and we shook on it while he accepted those terms.

"You, trying not to comment something? Will we have something to talk about at all?" Roman asked with pretended worry in his voice.Little fucker.

Olivia Godfrey was old. Very old, came from old blood, bloody money and combination of these two gave disgustingly powerful lineage which was surviving through centuries with no problems.

Head of Godfrey family was spoiled like a brat and even more manipulative bitch. Let's not forget she was also rich and influential, at least for the rest of her subordinates. Many feared her and only people on high positions were able to talk to her. And still it didn't matter if you were head of some department, she would be still looking at you like driver looks at smashed bug on his windshield. Disgusted and unworthy of her attention. There weren't many things that could actually move something inside her - not people, not their opinions and certainly not their actions.

There also wasn't a lot of things that made her afraid. She was surrounding herself with expensive and beautiful stuff using everything she could to distract and cloak herself from reality. Because reality could be boring and somehow a bit dull for Olivia.

But there, sitting in her workroom, fingers gripping edge of desk so hard it hurt, the reality for Olivia was dreadful. Yes, she was old but not that old to live through stories her father told her about. About powerful creature who made their lineage wealthy and... well, almost immortal. How was the creature deceived and banished back to his world.

And now it was back. She knew it, she could feel it inside of her. Like some connection.

Once servant, always servant. I think I will find use for you, Olivia Luspec.

She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. So there it was. The old, ancient, terrifying evil. Interesting how in one moment you are on top of the game and one second later you're trying just to be alive. Of course there wasn't any visible threat but-

"It's nice to see I still have some effect on others after so many centuries."

#Roman Godfrey #roman godfrey/ofc #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey/reader #olivia godfrey #destiny rumancek #peter rumancek #souls #demons #spells #blood witch #supernatural #upirs #hemlock grove #hemlock grove fanfiction

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laurieteddy · 5 years

Note

Hi, may I have an Avengers ship? I’m a Pansexual, cis female. I’m a Slytherin, INTJ, sassy and sarcastic smol person standing at only 5’0. I enjoy writing and drawing about fluff, I also love watching and reading Horror. I’m a bit stubborn. Affectionate, but only on my own terms, I’m uncomfortable with unwanted physical contact. My humour is pretty dark but I have a very cutesy facade to my being, so at first glance, you wouldn’t be able to tell. I love snakes, they’re my favourites. Thanks!

There are like little drabbles I wrote in this for you and the person, let me know what you think :)

Hope you like it! I kind of ended up getting more detailed than I meant to so... sorry about that and I won’t be doing this much for every ship bc I don’t have it in me. There are probably many typos but I hope it’s still good... also

Ships close today at 11:59 PM EST

Your ship: Tony Stark

Your best friend/s: Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers

Who asked who on the first date: you | them

Tony would know that you had a completely different side than just a cute sweetheart, which he would love honestly. He would want to see that other side of you so he would work at getting to know you. From day one he would be blunt with you, telling you “I know that you really have something darker about you, there’s no way you’re rainbows and sunshine,” the first day he met you because he’s a freak like that. He genuinely would be interested in getting to know you better though and it would be because he would really think he’d like your personality. So, after hanging around you when Steve invited you over, he would eventually ask you on a date.

“A date? You want to go on a date,” You questioned, “with me?”

Tony nodded, a smile growing on his face. “Yep. I just think you seem really interesting.”

You gave him a look saying you didn’t really believe him, and it wasn’t because it was Tony Stark asking you, you didn’t care about that. It was because, while he did truly seem intrigued by you, he didn’t strike you as someone that actually tried getting to know someone in such a typical way. Tony would usually just research someone instead of actually trying to get to know them from them. A date with Tony Stark could mean anything from going to a gas station at 3:00 AM to get slushies and go stargazing, to him taking you for dinner at the most expensive place in town and then proceeding to take you to a charity ball as his plus one.

Not to mention, he just never seemed interested in you in that way, at least to you, and you honestly weren’t sure if you could picture him in such a way. “I mean, are you sure? We barely know each other.”

“That’s kind of why people go on dates, to get to know each other. Obviously you don’t have to go, just thought it didn’t hurt to ask.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, nervousness washing over him.

You noted that, too, he was actually nervous. He wasn’t just asking you like you were any woman he would take as an escort, he seemed to actually be interested. Which was shocking in ways because of all the things you heard in the news about him, all the things involving women specifically. You weren’t one to let what others say fog what the person is actually like... but everyone always talked about Tony being a playboy, even Tony. It just seemed that your personalities would be too much for one another, more so too much for you than him.

Tony always was a very outgoing person, sometimes not knowing when to hold back. You always tend to show your more quiet side where you keep to yourself. So, at first glance, Tony is a LOT. He did try to not be as loud around you though, at least while he got to know you. He didn’t want to push you away with his loud mouth before he even got a shot at getting to know you.

“Look, I know I’m a lot to handle and I come off loud and pushy. So I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, and not just for those reasons. But, I am seriously curious about you and I’m not just wanting a fling, I know I’m famous for them.” He pressed his lips together and breathed out of his nose, “Maybe think on it? You could pick what we do on the date so you know I won’t go all out.”

Alright, this is ending here before it turns into a oneshot, lemme know if you want more though!

Who kissed the other first: you | them

Tony would completely understand and respect your boundaries. He would always make sure that you were comfortable with every milestone in your relationship, from holding hands to kissing. He would let you make the first moves with these things, even telling you that he would wait until you were comfortable, you just tell him when.

Your first kiss would be on his cheek, which he would absolutely melt when it happened. Honestly? He would die on sight anytime you kissed him, no matter where or how brief it was.

Who fell in love first: you | them

Tony is just that Bitch™ that immediately falls in love. He feels so many different kinds of love, fight me. And he would feel so many kinds of love with you as he fell deeper and deeper. No matter the kind he felt for you in whatever stage of the relationship, he would feel it deeply. You would be someone, to him, that was so selfless, caring, warm, hilarious, creative, the list goes on. He would see you or even just think of you and know everything was going to be alright. Because of this... he would be the first to say “I love you.”

Who says ‘I love you’ first: you | them

You and Tony were up at an outrageously late time, both in your own worlds. You were upstairs working on a drawing while Tony was down in his lab working on a new suit. Neither of you realized the time, not that it would matter if you did. Well, that is to say, it wouldn’t matter to you if you were up that late and it wouldn’t matter to Tony if he was up that late. But, it would matter to each other if the other was awake. You two often were a bit hypocritical when it came to things like that, saying the other needed to take better care of themselves.

Tony realized the time, due to FRIDAY reminding him he needed sleep for his long day tomorrow. But he didn’t care, he only took a break from his lab to go get more coffee. On his way to the kitchen, he saw you drawing, or it seemed. For a moment he just watched you, considering whether he should remind you of the time or just let you be. He knew that if you did tell you what time it was you would be convincing him to get some sleep, which he wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep yet. He did know that you needed the sleep though.

“What’cha up to?” He broke the silence, pushing himself off the wall and making his way to you.

You looked up, jumping slightly surprised by his presence. Your shoulders fell as you relaxed, realizing it was him. “I’m working on a new drawing of my original character. What about you? Coffee break?”

He nodded, “Yep, figured I need it if I’m going to stay up any later.”

“Later?” You questioned and looked at the time, “Three in the morning?! Tony, you have press conferences tomorrow, why are you up so late?”

“Don’t you mean I have press conferences today and I’m up too early?” A grin spread on his face, “Besides, you can’t talk.”

You sighed, setting your drawing down and rubbing your eyes. He was right, you couldn’t talk but neither could he. Both of you had heavy bags under your eyes, your hair messy, and movements becoming more and more clumsy. You still would of course bicker about the other being up so late, you always did.

“At least I don’t have things to do all day tomorrow and I can rest up. But you actually have things scheduled, Tony, and,” You went on listing reasons why he should be asleep.

He began to zone out, he has heard it all before and you both know it will end with both of you agreeing to go to sleep so long as the other did. He thought about the first time you found him still awake at an ungodly hour, you were actually asleep, to begin with. You woke up and he wasn’t there, which you initially thought nothing of until you heard soft music coming from another room. You decided to go find the source of the music, thus stumbling upon Tony.

You asked him what he was doing and why he was up still then tried getting him back to bed. He first thought to himself that he wouldn’t fall for it, but he did. He melted immediately when hearing your voice crack with a want for more sleep. He went back to bed, but it wasn’t because he cared about how much sleep he got. It was because he knew you wouldn’t give up until he did and he didn’t want to make you lose sleep. But, the more often this happened the easier it became for him to tell you, and you to tell him, that you would stay up for a few more hours. That was, until this moment.

Tony remembered how he did just melt for you before, how could he not? You had his best interest at heart and you always looked and sounded so soft when getting him back to sleep. He knew he did still melt for you, even if it took a little convincing, but he didn’t mind. He loved you and, even if he would never actually verbally admit it, you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Alright,” he interrupted, “I will go back to bed if you will.”

You nodded reluctantly and intertwined your fingers with his before asking FRIDAY to turn everything off for the night. You rested your head on Tony’s shoulder on the way to your room, your body pulling heat from his making you even more tired.

He smiled softly, gently squeezing your hand and planting a kiss on top of your head. “I love you.”

Again, stopping here... if you want more let me know!

Random:

Tony would dedicate a floor in Stark Tower to snakes for you and you can’t convince me otherwise. I mean,, the giant rabbit??? He would so do that.

Sometimes you guys would see who could out sass the other.

Tony wouldn’t love lightly, neither would you.

You and Steve would become friends because you would treat him like anyone else and he would 110% love your gallows humor. It’s just such a WWII thing and he’d carry it with him.

#ship #pyromaniac-skeleton

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nothing-but-kpop-dreams · 6 years

Text

BTS Reaction: Out of frustration they yell at their kid for distracting them and the child goes running to you (request)

Request: Can I have a bts reaction on u being a new friend to the guys and your staying over at the dorm but they have a son from a past relationship (she left both of them almost as soon as he was born) and they have gotten pretty attached to you almost seeing u as a mother figure since he has never had one. And he has a bad dream and he goes running to his father but they were working so he gets mad at him so he goes crying to you for help.If it is too much work u don't have to thank u.

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken so long! We have all been so busy! But I also made sure to take my time with this request. It was so cute and fun to write and i had this certain idea as soon as i read it! I got a bit carried away with some of the members haha.

Tbh though, i wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be “new friend” or “new girlfriend” (since it had girlfriend vibes) and that it was like a typo, but i stuck to the request and wrote it as Y/n being a friend.

*the intro is the same for all of them, then each reaction

It had been an eternity of being locked in his almost sound proof prison. Just when he thought a home studio would make his life easier, it only made his role as a single father that much harder. It was yet again another night where there was just a wood door holding him back from being with his son; that and his pending deadline to add his voice to the last remaining song of the album.

Tonight was like every other. He called his friend Y/n over to look after his son ,______, while he recorded. Sure, _______ loved when you were over but, he knew his son was always a bit sad when he had to work. He always hated the moments where he had to look into his son’s happy wide eyes and turn him down to play time, or lunchtime, or bed time, or taking him to preschool or daycare, or eating breakfast with him… just about everything really.

But now was not the time to be heartbroken over the fact he was such a bad father, now is the time to perfect his recording. It had to be the thousandth time that night he was recording this last part of the song, but now with the stress of his deadline, it was all getting to him. It seemed like every attempt was horrible. Either his voice cracked, or his words didn’t come out like he wanted or there were faint sounds of ________ playing with you out in the living room. Honestly if it wasn't for you, he didn’t have too many options as who would be able to help him look after______ . So of course he shouldn't be getting too mad over his recording being ruined by the two you. If anything, every failed attempt always lead back to him being the problem… and it was eating away at him. He wanted nothing more than to have a decent enough recording and call it a night.

However, little did he know, his almost perfect recording was going to be ruined any moment by _________. _________ was experiencing yet another nightmare caused by a scary clown movie Daddy’s friends were watching and he just so happened to be watching from over their shoulders. Like the nights before, the evil clown had broken into the house and attacked you, his dad’s friend who he saw as his mother, and then attacked his father, who attempted to save the both of them. Now the evil clown was coming after him. In a broken sweat, little ________ awoke from the nightmare just as the clown opened its mouth showings it millions of sharp teeth.

Being in his pitch black room he couldn’t differentiate whether he was in his home or the stomach of the monster. As any five year old would, _______ began crying, sobbing out for his father to just know he was alive. He pushed his little body out of the bed and ran to the one room his father was most likely to be in. He tried to open the recording studio door that was locked. With his heart racing, he pounded his little fists on the wood door “ Daddy! Daddy where are you?!? Daddy!” he cried harder when there was no response.

He banged the door over and over and over until finally it opened and thankfully his dad stood there...with the angriest look on his face.

“Daddy! Daddy! The clown!” he shouted, running to his father and hugging him by his legs “The clown is going to eat us!”

“__________ get off!” His father said sternly, grabbing him by the arms and pushing him away. “Daddy is working! What have I told you about trying to come in when I am working?!? If you need anything you know to go to y/n!”

“_______!” The small child could hear his “mother” calling out to him. “_______, it’s alright, come to me.” you cooed as you walked down the hall, a bit too late to the commotion due to falling asleep on the couch. In an instant you scooped up the boy in your arms and carried him tight.

“Mommy!” _______ was only able to get out before he started crying harder.

“I got this.” you said looking up at the boy’s father, partially throwing him a dirty look over his outburst. “C’mon ________, let’s go to bed so your daddy can get back to work.”

The door the the studio slammed shut, leaving you by yourself to look over your friend’s child.

“But I don't want to sleep! I want daddy!”

“You don't want to sleep? Why don't we watch tv in daddy’s room while we wait for him to finish?” Having been here the last week to calm ________ down from his nightmares, you knew he would be back to sleep in second if he knew he felt safe.

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the night that father dearest finally perfected his session and dragged himself into his bedroom to find you and _________ cuddled together in a deep sleep.

RM:

His guilt intensified seeing the sight before him. He was the one that should be cuddled up with his son. He should have been the one to comfort him from his nightmare instead of scream in his face. What father literally pushes their crying child away?

He needed to apologize.

Being careful not to wake you up, RM crawled into bed, getting as close to _______ as he could.

“________… ________, wake up.” he whispered softly

“Daddy?” _______ called out with eyes still shut tight.

“_______, I am so sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

_______ finally opened his eyes, not having paid attention to a single word he said. “What?”

“Daddy is very sorry for yelling at you.” He repeated. “I shouldn't have done that. It wasn’t a nice thing to do at all okay? Can you forgive me?”

His son stared at him for a long moment with sleep in his eye. “... What does “forgive” mean?” he asked innocently

He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. However, too tired to explain, he changed the subject. “Why don’t I tuck you in back in your bed? I can read you any bedtime story you want!”

______ only shook his head. “I want to sleep here with Mommy.”

“Mommy? Who is mommy?” he couldn't help but panic at the thought of his ex.

“Mommy!”______ said pointing at the sleeping you.

RM fought back the urge to correct his son. It was bad enough he yelled at him for something he couldn't help, he didn't want to make thing worse by putting a separation in _______ relationship with you. In that moment, ________ had a point. You really were like a mom to him. The last thing RM wanted to do was deny his son the closest thing he had to a mom. “Okay, but just tonight you and I can sleep here with mommy.” he smiled at him.

Jin:

There was this bittersweet feeling in his gut. He hated the fact that he didn’t and wasn't doing his job as a father, but he had to admit, you and ______ looked so cute cuddled up together.

He tiptoed over to your side of the bed and gently shook you awake. “Hey y/n, thanks again for helping me with ______.” He began when you finally opened your eyes. He hated waking you up, but he had the sudden urge to thank you for everything you’ve done up to this point. “I am sorry I took so long today. I really thought I was going to finish everything faster.” he sighed.

“... Jin it’s fine.” you mumbled. It was something you always whenever he gave his thanks but honestly you always down played just how much he appreciated your help.

“...What was ________ crying about? Was it that same dream?”

“Yeah. He was crying that “Mommy and Daddy got eaten” and that the clown was after him and all that stuff.”

“Aish, I already talked to him that it was a movie!” he huffed, “And I’ve also gotten after him for still calling you mom.”

“Jin, it’s fine! Honestly, I don’t mind him calling me mom. And c’mon he is only five, he can’t be logical about what is real and what is fake.”

He only ran his fingers through his hair. “You're right, you’re so right!” He felt stupid for expecting that much out of his toddler. “...Thank you y/n. I really don’t know where I would be without you.” he vented

You grabbed his hand that he had balled into a tight fist. “What else are friends for?” you smiled at him.

Instantly his body loosened and he put a smile on his face as he looked down at you. “Well… Breakfast is on me! I’m making us a feast. Now you stay here and get some sleep. I’m gonna get ________ and tuck him in his room.”

Suga:

Honestly, seeing You and _______ sleeping together on his bed had to be one of the cutest things he had seen in a long time. It was such a picture perfect moment, the two of you with your faces squished together in a deep sleep, just derpy and adorable. However, the only reason this moment was actually happening was because he was such a bad dad.

If only it weren't so late in the night. He wanted nothing more than to wake you and _______ up and watch a movie or like go out for food or something do happy! He wanted to do something that would erase the moment he yelled at his son.

The longer he stared at the two of you, the more his guilt ate at him. When he thought about it, you were more of a parent to ________ than he was. You were the one that deserved to be called “mom”, while he felt more like a distant uncle sometimes.

“I need to make things up to them.” he thought. The last thing he wanted was for ______ to grow up with a memory of him only getting yelled at. And he for sure needed to make things up to you. You had taken so much time out of your own schedule to help him out, he needed a way to thank you for everything

“Making breakfast tomorrow could be a start.” he said to himself in a yawn.

Sleep was getting the best of him and there was enough room on the bed… but did he deserve to sleep there? Was his comfort worth the risk of waking up you or ________.

“...I should let them sleep.” he frowned as he dragged himself to the living room and knocked out on the couch

Jhope:

He smiled at the two most important people in his life sleep in his bed. It was cute, really cute, but he was still hit by a wave of shame and guilt. What he had done was wrong and thankfully you were here to take care of it, but how long was that's going to last? How long were you willing to put up with him?

Before he knew what he was doing, he was by your side waking you up. “Y/n…. Y/n… Can I talk to you?”

“Huh? What? Hobi? What times it?” you mumbled groggily.

“I’m- I’m sorry… but are you made at me?”

“Um” you took a moment to rub the sleep out of her eyes. “No? “

“Are you sure?

“Why- why are you asking me this at-” she checked her phone, squinting her eyes at the blinding light. “At 4 in the morning?”

“... Because… I saw the look you threw at me earlier… I know I put so much pressure on you and I shouldn’t! All this started because I needed you to babysit _______ for me and it is at the point where he is calling you mom! And I feel like such a piece of shit.”

You sat up just starting at his sudden mini breakdown. “Hoseok where is this coming from?”

“I rely on you too much!” he continued. “I should have been the one to comfort ________. I should have stopped recording and be an actual dad. You shouldn't have to be here, up in the middle of the night looking after MY son. I should! When we meet up to should be for having fun and plain hanging out, not me dropping off ________ with you then going over plans on when you can look after him again-”

“Hoseok, calm down. you are overthinking all this.” you laughed lightly. “Yes, I was upset that you pushed ________ away, but I know you are stressed I wouldn't be here 2/7 if i didn't want to be. C’mon we both know that when it comes to raising a kid, it take a village”

That was enough to make him smile. and he wrapped his arms around you, so relieved you didn't hate him. “My parents are visiting next week. They are going to hog ______ all to themselves, so next time we hang out it'll just be you and me and i’ll make it all up to you. How does that sound?”

“It’s a date.” you laughed. “Now you get some sleep you must be exhausted.”

Your body was sprawled across his bed. Your limbs hung in all different directions. She looked almost like thrown ragdoll. In complete contrast, his little ________ slept in a tight little ball nestled into your side. He was using your arm like pillow his his little hands clung to your clothes like a koala. the image before him was not only adorable but hilarious.

Despite his complete exhaustion he used what was left of his energy and pulled out his phone to take a picture. It was something that was screensaver worthy. He chuckled to himself for a quick second as he made the picture his homescreen, but seriousness was quick to set in. He was still guilty about the whole thing. He couldn't get that look you threw him out of his head. He felt like a failure, a failure that threw his problems on someone else

But what's done is done. It wasn't like he could go back in time and stop himself from snapping. What he had to focus on was how he could make up for it. “There is enough room for me on the bed. Maybe I should sleep here with them? ________ might like waking up to me being right there next to him.”

He shuffled his way over to the little space left next to ________ and climbed on as gently as he could.

Both you and _______ rustled a bit but neither one of you woke up.

Considering that you had been to one to tuck ______ in for the past week (yes, you were practically living with him and ______ at this point) he thought he'd take the chance to “tuck him in”.

Now next to _________, V lightly ran his fingers over his hair and took in the image of his sleeping mini me.”I’m.sorry I yelled at you ________.” He whispered to his sleeping son. “I shouldn't have done that, but I am going to make it up to you okay? Please don't hate me” he said before he leaned down and gave his son a quick peck on the head. “I love you. Sweet dreams.”

Then he looked up at you. You were as knocked out as ever. Him getting on the bed did nothing to distract your sleeping. “Aish, y/n I’m sorry I am such a bad friend. You're helping me so much! You have no idea how much i appreciate you... You're a better “mommy” to ________ than I am a dad…” He could feel a sting in his eyes as he vented to his sleeping friend just how he felt. “I’m gonna make things up to you too alright?” He promised, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He leaned over a bit and kissed your hand, that being the only part of you that was close enough to.him. “Night. Love you too y/n. Sweet dreams. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Jimin:

Seeing what he saw, he couldn't get himself to move you or _______ from his bed. Who was he to ask them to go home/ go back to their room? who was he to disturb their sleep especially after the Stunt he pulled? “Looks like the couch is meant for me tonight.” he thought to himself

Being so tired, he was asleep the second his head touched the cushion.

He awoke to the smell of food and the sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen. He sat up immediately. If he wasn’t a bad enough parent and friend, he just got a lot worse.

He was up in second. He skipped the step to wash up and went straight to the kitchen, ready to apologize to you and then run off and wake up _________ with a million kisses.

“Morning daddy.” he heard his son say once he made his appearance in the kitchen.

_________ sat adorable the end of the table with a coloring book as you stood by the oven scrambling some eggs..

‘Morning _________.” he practically sang. “Morning y/n” he said to you

“Morning .” you only yawned

He went over to his son, scooping him in his arms and covering his face in kisses. ________ only laughed.

“How’s my big boy doing today?” he asked

“I’m hungry.

“How are you he's asked. “ as he made his way to you

The unsuspecting you let out a squeal when you felt Jimin’s free arm wrapped around you and suddenly his lips put a peck on your head

“And how is the bested person in the world?’ he asked

“Wondering what the heck is going on with you.” you laughed, trying to hide your blushing face.

“Guilt” he said out right. He sat __________ down on the counter, and then suddenly turned off the stove.

“Jimin! Why are you-” you didn't have time to finish our question because he grabbed you and gently moved you over next to ________.

“I need to apologize to the two of you.” he said seriously.

“Why daddy? ________ asked

“Because what daddy did last night wasn't nice. I shouldn't have yelled at you when you were scared. What I should have done was remind mind you that monsters aren't real…. well I take data back there is one monster, but only one.”

“What?!? There is?” ________ already teary eye with fear

“Yeah, the tickle monster! “Jimin roared, attacking his son with tickles

_________ shrieked with laughter. Even you couldn't help but laugh at how cute he laughed

He looked over at you “And I need to say sorry to you too.” he put all his attention on you

“Why?” You asked him.

“Because you help a lot and I feel it's gotten to the point where I might be taking advantage of you. I’m not am i? I don't want you to feel like we are mostly friends cuz you help me with _______.”

“Chimmie don't worry. I love being here and being with you and ________.”

He smiled. “ I love when you are here too…” he blushed. “But I’m gonna make it up to you and you too ________” Jimin turned back to his son. “I have the day off today! so today it’s going to be just you and me and we can do whatever you want!’

“Really?”

“Yes”

“But what about mommy?” __________ frowned looking up at you.

‘Ya, _______ what did I tell you about calling y/n mommy-

“Jimin, its fine.” you insisted before ______ could feel guilty about it.

“Well okay then. “Mommy” is going to have a whole day to herself!” he cheered. “She’s been really busy taking care of the both of us don't you think ______?” he waited for his son to nod in agreeance. “So she is going to rest all day. And that is starting right now.” he smiled at you. “You go sit down, I’ll make breakfast for us.”

Jungkook:

The light of the tv lit their sleeping faces

All he could do was let out a sigh. This was just another night of failure to add to his I-have-failed-as-a-dad list.

He shuffled over to you and ever so carefully removed the remote from out of your hand and turned off the tv.

Suddenly you rustled awake. “I was watching that!” you mumbled as you tried to sit up.

Jungkook couldn't help but laugh, struggling to keep quiet and not wake up _______. He turned on the lamp on the nightstand so he could take a look at you. “Y/n go back to sleep.” He instructed, resting you back in a laying position

“Oh Kookie… when did you get here?”

“How it is that you woke up from me turning off the tv but not from my footsteps walking up to you?”

“Tv is life.” was your only explanation. “But are you finally done recording?”

“Uh, yeah, pretty much. I kind of gave up and just used whatever was best.”

“Finally. _______ kept asking when you were going to be done. He tried to stay up for you, but fell asleep after half an hour.” you chuckled as you looked down at the child that clung to your side.

The guilt inside him intensified. “How is it that you aren't even his real parent but you are better for him than i am?” the thought out loud.

“What?”

“He isn’t your son, but you take better care of him than I do.”

In an instant you sat up and your hand cut through the air, lightly smacking the side of his head.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Jungkook cried

“Why did you say something so stupid? You’re a great dad!”

“No I’m not! I don't even know what i’m doing half the time.”

“Do you think anyone does? Do you think i actually know what i’m doing? I know just as much as you.” you said in a hush, still being careful to now wake up ______. “Jungkook, you were a teen dad, you’re a single dad, and on top of it your this crazy international idol! Of course being a dad is going to m\be hard and it's going to be a thousand times harder because you are who you are, but you are still a great dad!”

“Yeah?” he smiled shyly

You grabbed his hands and sat him down next to you. “Yes! Of course!”

“Are you sure? Cuz i feel like you do all the work and i just poke my head in every now and then. And like ______ calls you mommy all the time and i don’t even know if you are okay with that. I haven't even had time to explain to him he should do that. And i’m scared to talk about his actual mom and just ugh. I don’t know. And like i hope that i don't overwhelm you with always asking you to come and help me with ______ -”

“Kookie.” you had to interrupt. “It’s fine. It’s all fine! Now about the whole mommy thing, i was just wanting to know if you were okay with it. Cuz like you never even bring “her” up so i don't know.”

“I mean, i’m cool with him calling you that. You're Like a mom to him basically. I see you like his mom.” He gave your hand a squeeze.

You just giggled.” YEah I get you. And like I love my Jeon boys, so of course i’m always going to be here helping you out, even if you don't want me to be.” you smiled, giving his hand a squeeze in return.

Suddenly he pulled you into a hug. “And we love you too.”

-Admin Boat

Again, sorry this took so long, but i wanted this one as perfect as could be. I loved writing V’s part. Did any of you have a favorite member’s reaction to read?

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heartofsnark · 6 years

Text

Breakfast In Bed

Note: Y’all can blame @babamitsu for this one. Her tags on my NSFW Alphabet for Baba made me want to actually write this. I don’t know when your b-day is, is it literally a few hours after you reblogged that thing from me? Cause, here this is. Also, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure on whether or not to include him kinda eating her out after he came inside of her, cause that’s a squick for some people. But, I don’t personally get why, so I hope that’s not a problem. If it is I guess I can take it out or whatever. Also, probably typos, cause I don’t proofread and I am literally posting this right after I wrote it.

Summary: MC decides to give Baba breakfast in bed…it’s her pussy. Subtly isn’t my strong-suit.

Pairing: Baba/MC (Or any cis female, really)

Word Count: 1740 (Sorry it’s kind of short)

Warnings: Cunnilingus, Face Sitting, Slight Somniphillia (but not really), Penetrative Sex, Over-stimulation, Morning Sex, Creampie, Eating out a Creampied Pussy, It’s Baba being a cheeseball who’s great at eating pussy. Baba and MC continue to be grossly in love with each other.

She stares at the alarm clock, the early morning hour blinking at her. Nerves bubble inside of her. Is she really going to do this? She’s not sure why it makes her so anxious, Baba asked for this and it’s not like they haven’t done kinky stuff before. She waited a few days after he made mention of this particular fantasy, wanting it to be a bit of a surprise. Was that the best idea? Surprise, good morning, eat me out! Something about it feels inherently selfish, but Baba has made it particularly clear how much he enjoys being between her thighs. No, she decided to do this, she’s going to do it.

Baba sleeps beside her, just the sight of him seems to make her nerves fade a little more. He’s sprawled out on his back, having rolled over when she managed to escape his arms. She’s just happy he didn’t wake, usually he’s up the second he can’t feel her close to him. They’re both naked from last nights activities, the soft morning light drifts in, casting his face in a soft glow. On pure instinct, she reaches out and brushes the silky strands of hair off of his face. His expression twitches, but he doesn’t wake. He must have been extremely tired, content he’s not stirring right away, she places a gentle kiss on his lips before moving herself up.

Her hands grip the headboard as she tries to position herself, trying to keeps her knees on either side of his head without touching him right away. Finally, her pussy his hovering just above a sleeping Baba’s face. Just the idea turns her on, she can feel herself getting wet. Now, to wake him up.

How should she do that? Should she say something? Should she just start grinding? What is the social protocol of waking your boyfriend up by sitting on his face?

She yelps, her thoughts interrupted by a small nip on her inner thigh, then soothed over by a lick.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” His breath tickles her skin as he speaks.

“You were awake this entire time, weren’t you?” She asks, resting her bright red face against the headboard.

“Mmhmm,” he hums against her skin, “you’re so cute, getting up early just to get me breakfast, I’m a lucky man.”

His hands run up over her outer thighs and hips, tightening his grip on her before pulling her down onto his face. A loud moan escapes her, his tongue makes contact with her. He runs the flat of his tongue along her slit, teasing her lips while his nose bumps against her clit. Whimpers and moans keep escaping her, just the littlest touch drives her crazy. His grips keeps her from lifting off of his face, but she’s can still grind against him. It’s not a conscious decision, each bit of pleasure makes her squirm and move her hips.

He’s teasing her, keeping a slow pace to start, his tongue focused on the lips of her pussy. Never venturing more than a small dip inside of her. His moans and groans of lust vibrate against her skin. She looks over his shoulder, at the expanse of his body. The sheets have been kicked away and she can see his hard on, pre-cum leaks from the head, he loves this just as much as she does.

Her mind is hazy from pleasure, but she wants to touch him. She tries to reach back and stroke him, but then his tongue slides inside of her. Pleasure shoots through her, the feeling of his tongue penetrating her makes her lose all focus. Her hands instinctively burying in his hair instead as she starts to ride his face harder.

His tongue strokes and rubs along her sensitive insides, he drinks up all of her wetness, his own muffles noises get louder. Her movements grind his nose harder against her clit, but she needs more. Then his tongue moves to lick circles across her clit, pushing her over the edge. She yells, tension snaps and she can feel the gush of slick across his face. Her fingers grip his scalp and she rides out her aftershocks, soft squirming across his face, while his tongue slows to small kitten licks.

Panting, she starts to lift herself off of his face, but his grip tightens and her world flips. It does nothing to help her fuzzy post-orgasm brain. Her back is against the bed, pillows under her head. Baba now looking up at her from between her legs. He’s nuzzled his face into her thigh again, giving a soft wet kiss before he pulls just a bit away. His face is soaking wet and he’s grinning,

“Let me take care of you,” she tries to offer, but he just plants a another kiss against her skin.

“I’m still hungry, darling,” he whispers then buries his face into her folds again. She’s still incredibly sensitive, so soon after her first orgasm. His tongue back inside her is right on the line between pleasure and pain.

Her mouth runs without her permission; moans, whimpers, babbling about how much she loves him. He’s less slow this time, less teasing. Hungrier for her and lapping at her likes he’s starved. His tongue is deep instead, licking over every sensitive spot it can reach, desperate to make her wetter just so he can lap it up. His groans are barely audible, between her body muffling it and her own sounds drowning him out. But, she can feel them against her sensitive wet skin.

Her hands wind tight in his hair, she see his hips grinding into the bed. Her own writhe and squirm, unable to stay still when she feels so good. If for even a moment she manages to wriggle away from his mouth, he pulls her right back down onto his tongue with a groan. It’s overwhelming and every touch feels like entirely too much, but she loves it. Stuck between wanting to squirm away and push her harder against her. She melts into pleasure when a particular lick pushes her over the edge again, her thighs clamping around his head as she screams out.

He moves over her and thrusts his cock into her while she’s still riding out her second orgasm, sending her into a third. The sudden deep penetration makes everything clench tighter. Her arms wrap around him, her fingers dig into his back and her legs tangle around his hips. He starts moving, stretching her orgasm out further. His movements are messier than usual, he’s desperate and trying to control himself.

“You feel as good as you taste,” he tells her, leaning his forehead against her and staring into her eyes. His expression is loving, but slightly tight, he’s trying to hold back because she’s sensitive. Wetness still glistens across his face and she kisses him, tasting herself on his tongue before pulling away.

“Don’t hold back, please, fuck me as hard as you want, please,” she whines. He smiles and kisses her, before his movements change. His thrusts become quick and brutal, desperation coloring his movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with their own lustful noises. Her mind goes blank, every movement seems to make her orgasm and see stars. Everything is a haze of pleasure, his cock reaching the deepest part of her while his pelvic bone grind against her painfully sensitive clit.

She loses count of how many times she cums, then his grip around her tightens and a loud groan escapes him. Her own soft whimpers follows when she feels his hot cum spilling inside of her.

A few moments pass of them just trying to catch their breath, her body is absolute jelly. She can’t but whine when he pulls out, feeling his cum starting to leak out. She’s a sopping wet mess between her thighs, between her own slick and his cum. But, she loves the feeling. His eyes linger on the sight and he licks his lips. She can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“I don’t think I can cum again, but if you’re gentle, it’s okay,” she tells him, her voice soft and hoarse from every yell of pleasure.

“Okay princess, if it’s too much, let me know.” He smiles at her, pure love in his eyes, before he ducks his head back down between her legs. His movements are far softer than any before, but she still can’t but make little noises. He’s gently licking at the mixture of their fluids, cleaning his cum from her pussy. Not enough pressure or friction to start building her up again, just the soft sensation of his him lapping up the mess they’ve made together. It takes just a few moments for him to pull away, content with how well he’s licked her clean, and then pulls her into an embrace.

He presses soft kisses across her shoulders, letting her relax. He’s much more composed, while she’s pretty sure her brain has actually been sucked out through her vagina. The morning is just starting and they have things to do, but she can’t even fathom leaving bed. She nuzzles against his sweat soaked skin, murmuring about how much she loves him before she drifts off against her will.

“Wake up beautiful,” he whispers against her ear and makes her stir. Her brain still hazy, she looks to the clock and sees he let her sleep for about an hour. She’ll be late to work, but she doesn’t have it in her to care all that much.

“Sorry, I fell asleep…” her voice slurs a bit as she forces herself to fully wake up. Baba’s smiling as he places a stand tray across her lap, an immaculate breakfast spread out across it.

“Nothing to apologize for, I made you some breakfast,” he tells her as he sits down next to her in bed and kisses her temple.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” She realizes her mistake as soon as the question leaves her and he grins.

“Already did,” he winks and her face feels like it’s on fire. Dammit, she walked into that one.

“You’re the worse!” She throws a piece of toast at him while he cracks up at his own dumb joke. But, she’s smiling and her voice carries no cruelty, only love. He’s a giant dork and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

#kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #mitsunari baba #kbtbb baba #baba mitsunari

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