babybatss-blog

[babybatss-blog]

putting this out there, and if you don’t like it block and/or unfollow me i don’t care. Being a gaylor is weird. Taylor’s sexuality is her own, and as a bi girl who was outed previously and bullied because of it by my bio mum and people at school I don’t wish that sort of prying and lack of boundaries on ANYONE.

Taylor herself has told you to stop being weird about her female friends and her sexuality. I don’t care if some suprise songs and a dress allude to it, I will not support something she said makes her uncomfortable unless she explicitly comes out.

Stop being weirdos!

[babybatss-blog]

ALONE

Sam (stardew) x f!reader, 3300 words

summary: maybe it’s a bad idea to get high with your childhood crush, but here you are, crying and praying you didn’t feel the way you did.

a/n: okay this is way angstier than I intended it to be! It ends up being quite sweet, but the beginning is honestly depressing. Bare with it my friends, cause I’m really proud of this one!!!

cw: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! childhood friends to lovers, smoking and getting high on weed. Mentions of family members passing and reader is struggling with intense grief. Swearing, kissing, making out, 69ing, ejaculation and both f and m orgasms. Slight religious comparisons.

No one would expect what would happen tonight, not even you, who has been friends with Sam since birth. Your parents raised you together along with Sebastian and Abigail to always be by each other’s side, exploring your grandparents farm or causing trouble in the town square. But in the back of your head, you always had some strange, borderline inappropriate crush on Sam. Just a simple smile would make your heart flutter, and you spent many late nights crying over some new girlfriend he had for at most a week at your school. But it was wrong. You told yourself that a million times. He was like a brother, not anything more or anything less.

You find yourself at his on a Friday night, hair sprawled on his sheets and skin concealed by a skimpy top and shorts; far too risqué for a day out on the farm. You wore it just for Sam, hoping that it could indulge you in some fantasies you have long dreamt about. It was idiotic to think that anything could happen, but your high brain after smoking a joint together caused some delusional thoughts of childhood escapades to return.

What if something could finally happen between you? No, you can’t think that about one of your best friends. Fucking fool.

You couldn’t blame yourself though, as Sam invited you to have a sleepover at his after a night in the saloon. Since you inherited your Grandparents farm and moved back into your childhood home, it’s been difficult spending a single night there. No matter how much wood is in the fireplace or the volume of music you blast, you can’t escape the cold quietness that comes with that tiny cabin. You miss the times where the farmhouse was always bustling with community members and smelling of homecooked meals, wondering what the world looked like outside of your small town with outstanding naïve. At least you still have your friends, who will be there for you no matter what. You feel those same feelings arise when you’re with Sam though, watching him play his guitar while smoke billows out of your mouth picturesquely. His light blonde hair falls messily over his face, the freckles peaking out like splatters on a canvas. If you were to paint him, you could easily portray every detail, flaw and all. He’s perfect you think, wondering what his lips would taste like on yours.

He abruptly stops the song, sticking his hand out to you. “give me a puff.” You huff at him, handing it over. You can’t help the way your thighs clench when your fingers brush, and somehow you feel as if he is the same, as his eyes linger for a second too long on yours, pink lips enveloping the joint and taking a long breath.

Theres no way he feels the same, don’t be an idiot.

The room reeks of marijuana, something that you know Jodi would kill you for. She was always stressed out of her mind with the two of you, getting into trouble and causing a ruckus. And you feel like that same teenager all over again, doing something your parents would never approve of in a precariously hid secret.

They did know the truth though, and let it happen. You kept him safe, and he kept you sane. A symbiotic relationship. Jodi mostly thought her son was reckless. Unpredictable. Unadulterated. But around you, he became a man, ready to protect and be protected. On nights like this where you have no energy to fight the visions racing in your mind, he would be there, playing your favourite songs on his guitar and staying up to make sure your nightmares don’t get too tense.

As you battle with your subconsciousness to fight the intense guilt eating away at you for such childish caprices, tears start to leak out of your eyes. Sam immediately notices, snuffing out the joint and placing his guitar down. “No… What’s wrong?” He sits by you on the bed, hand brushing some hair out of your eyes. He immediately regrets it, pulling his hand away. This makes you cry even more.

He doesn’t even want to touch you, you’re insane for even considering he liked you back. 

Sam reluctantly shuffles down to lie on his side next to you, face opposite yours. You feel his eyes staring at you, but don’t dare to move. If you do, he might ask what’s wrong. What are you supposed to say? I’m crying because I’m so grateful you are here for me and all I want is to love you like you deserve but it will never be?

The two of you lie like this for at least an hour, frozen like statues, minds running wild. But at least your tears have dried, so you can turn to him and feed into impulses without looking like some hideous beast.

“There she is.” He smiles, crow’s feet appearing by his eyes. “Don’t do that Sam.” You plead, pain striking your chest at how his innocent worlds blush your cheeks. Unaware, he grins, grabbing your shoulders and pinning you down. He straddles you, breath tickling your forehead as he peers over your shocked frame. To any other individual this is inherently sexual, but not to Sam. He starts air punching your face, eliciting a giggle to erupt from your throat. You push him off, and an all-familiar wrestling match ensues. You leap and he twists, you scream and he laughs. This is something you would do with your friends all the time previously, and it feels ever so natural to do it again after all these years. The two of you intertwine like gloves, dodging each other’s clumsy attacks and laughing like wild parrots. But you’re not the same little kids anymore, so you get tired quicker than you used to and the only sounds soon heard are your breaths amalgamating as you gasp for air when you stop, slightly embarrassed by your unfit states. Maybe it’s the smoke that caused your lungs to be this way, or the fact that you’re getting older. More likely, it’s the how close your faces are to each other, him once again on top of you, now pinning your hands up above your head as your core selfishly soils.

It's pathetic honestly, how malleable you are around him. After all these years you believed you could come back to Pelican town as a new person, capable of taking care of yourself after seeing the world. You thought you would be some mature, sexy woman standing in front of him, having her own escapades and somehow showing this clueless man your better than him. But that isn’t reality. When you saw him again, your eyes were puffy from grieving the dead, your hair matted and body frumpy in it’s baggy clothes, and not at all appearing confident or self-assured. What’s worse, you’re still a virgin. That may seem unimportant to the average person, but you always held yourself out in hopes for Sam. So the real world gave you an opportunity to let go of those immature ties, breaking free from what held you back.

None of that matters now, when he says the most unexpected thing you could think of, like a man out of your dreams. His words come out anxious and light, as if he didn’t even expect them himself.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, unable to get the words out. Because if you did, it may not be true. Nonetheless he leans down, pausing mere millimetres away from you. It’s tantalising, but your scared, so you don’t argue with it. This is something you have imagined for years, and it could finally happen. Your lips connect as he brings himself the final way down, a groan leaving his mouth in pleasure. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you already are, but he doesn’t seem to care as one arm slides down to your waist. Not a moment to goes by before his tongue slips between your shaking lips, raking along your teeth and intertwining with yours, saliva tasting earthy just like the cannabis you consumed. The shared kiss is inexperienced, wild and erratic, as if the two of you have been waiting for this moment for years. And you have.

Your hands take the moment to explore every inch of skin you’ve never been able to touch, his back rippling like waves and his chest heaving like a hungry shark. Even those warm eyes stare right at you like the deep blue when you pull away, both unsure of where to go from here.

“What are we doing Sam?” You ask, maintaining the tiniest sliver of mature so you can understand where his head is at. If he were to ask you the same thing, you would say you are doing what’s exactly right. Finally giving into love, surrendering to what you deserve and living as solely each other’s until your dying days. This is it, the first and final time you need to expose yourself. Because this should be your forever, as insane as it sounds.

“I don’t know.” He admits, in a statement far from what you want to hear. “But I’ve wanted this for a long time. So lets see how this goes.” He leans back down after saying this, pure passion drenching his kiss as he practically suffocated you. Your body takes over autopilot after his words, kissing him back while processing what he just said.

He wanted this for a long time? Does that mean he feels the same way? This can’t be real.

The realisation invigorates you, a side coming out nobody has ever had the fortune to experience. You flip him over to be on top, lips barely leaving his for a second as you explore his mouth in turn. His hard on now touches you, and you desperately try to conceal your moan as you realise what you’ve done to him. But you’re exactly the same, every and any bit of friction vibrating within you. You need it. You need him to do whatever he wants, to show you whatever you don’t know and finally leave those secrets only left for lovers behind. You start to roll your hips into his, the two of you making obscene noises as you struggle to keep your kissing going. His fingers dig into your ass, hands trembling at the lewdity the two of you have never experienced before. But you don’t know this yet, and neither does he. You need to break the news sooner or later.

“I need you” You concede, grinding into him with shaky breaths. Understanding the sentiment perfectly, he pushes you away lightly, the two of you now sitting together completely dishevelled but enraptured. “Me too. But I’m… A virgin.”

It’s almost as if your brain blocks out his words due to sheer disbelief, because you just sit there in silence, waiting for him to say something. Just as the prospect of innocence embarrasses you, it seems to also affect him, as his face turns a shade of bright red as he nervously rubs his palm up and down his leg. “Is that weird? Cause like, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I know some girls get grossed out by that and I-“ “Wait what?” You genuinely ask, ignoring his previous sentiment that brought you to this moment. “I-I’m a virgin.” He repeats, eyes bewilderly looking into yours.

“Oh.” You stutter, the exclamation coming out more judgy than you meant it to. Because you never expected this handsome man opposite you to be the same as you in this regard. In your head, he’s had hundreds of experiences like this one, girls basically lining up at his door for just one touch. But he’s just as awkward as you, head about to explode in hopes you still want him just the way he is.

“Me too Sam.” You smile, an invisible barrier of worry breaking instantaneously as the two of you realise you are in the same boat. You lean forward to be on all fours to kiss him, his hand flying up to stabilise you at the jaw as you kiss, much more soft and caring than before. You pull his top up over his head, toned abs rubbing up against your stomach as your heat melds into each other. The two of you feel safe like this, alone in the four walls of his room exploring fantasies you have long thought could never be true. You know it’s true though when your hand brushes against his crotch, feeling how incredibly hard he is and the shivers he elicits after such a soft touch. Pulling away, you look in his eyes to see the daze you have placed him in. “Shall I?”

He nods frantically, and you sit back, pulling his pants and underwear down. His length springs out, precum dribbling slowly down the shaft as it hits his abs. It’s everything you ever dreamed of, throbbing and sore for your touch, as he craves the same thing as you. You spit into your hand and rub them together, before slowly going down the shaft as he moans. Although you would hate to admit it, you’re a tease, moving agonisingly slow as your hands twist and bob. Sam is acting as if you’re going as fast as humanly possible though, his head falling back and hand covering his mouth, attempting to not call out every swear word in the book.

Despite this, your determined to show him what he’s missed out on by never doing this earlier, so you lean down to swirl his tip on your tongue. He practically screams, and you need to pull away to shush him. “Shh, your mum and Vincent are in the house.” He wines, a frail hand grabbing your head and rubbing it possessively. “Please…” He mutters, almost a shell of his former self.

You obediently go back down, hot mouth enveloping his foreskin completely as he bites down on his hand to remain silent. It’s a surprise Sam doesn’t draw blood, because it takes everything in him not to call out your name at the way you envelop him. Your throat takes his member nearly completely as you push further down, eyes filling with tears as you battle against your gag reflex. His length hits the back of your throat soon thereafter, and you begin to pull back and forth, sucking as he shakes beneath you, his musk intoxicating. It doesn’t take long for him to push your spit soaked face away, looking down at you like he just had a religious experience. “Want to sit on my face?” He manages after a bit, and you don’t even bother to respond as you unbutton and pull your shorts and underwear off, revealing your soaked, sensitive cunt to him.

It's just what he dreamed of. Delicate and weak, absolutely begging for his touch. He leans forward to take your shirt and bra off, nipples hard in the air but soon softened as his hands hold them tight. He massages them, dazed vision staring at how they move in his influence. You stop him, pulling his hands away as fast as they came and pushing him to lie down in front of you as you crawl over. His hands hold your squishy thighs as you slowly sink down in a reverse cowgirl position onto his hungry face, and when as you’re close enough, Sam greedily laps up your juices, tasting the sweet nectar he so desperately wanted. Your back arches, groaning at how he satisfies your throbbing with eagerness you didn’t even know was possible. Although you know he is enjoying your squirming at his every move almost as much as you are, you cannot help but lean back down to his cock and envelop it once more.

The two of you suck at each other’s soft spots, desperate in both pleasuring and being pleasured as slopping noises are all that is heard. It’s hard for you not to stop what you are doing as his tongue quickly swirls your clit, threatening your internal explosion but the need to give him as much love as your getting takes over you, throat completely filled with his scent. Sam begins shaking, symbolising his climax taking over as he struggles to keep up his pace within you. “Let go.” You mumble as you pull away, before diving back in. As your mouth does it’s job so does your hands, Twisting and squeezing at the base until he cums right into your mouth. The warm, salty liquid shoots down your throat like a waterfall, Sam’s overstimulated body going completely weak as you take his load. Some of it clings to your lips when you pull away, but you wipe it off, getting to move off his face to give him a rest.

Clearly Sam doesn’t need it though, energy almost as high as his brain when he pulls you back down. “Beautiful girl.” He mumbles, kissing your folds over and over again. You readjust to be right on top of him this time, sinking down and rolling your hips. Your stomach tightens at the sensation, moaning as quiet as possible at how his tongue massages your clit. As he does so, his nose threatens to breach your entrance, wet juices leaking out from within.

“Oh Sam…” You moan, sensations being overridden by complete pleasure. The way his mouth rolls up and down you is like heaven, causing your vision to blur and your mind to go blank.

Sam doesn’t stop there though. Despite how close you are already, he is determined to treat you just how he dreamed it would be. His long pointer and middle finger slide into you, stretching your hole in a way you have never felt. Unexpected, but flawless. A moan comes out of your mouth much louder than you expected, head dropping down and your hands catching yourself before you fall on his toned abs. Your hips grind back and forth on him, as his hands and mouth move as fast as possible.

And that’s when it happens. Your first, true, all-encompassing orgasm. It takes over your body like a possession, sensitivity rising higher like never before. You practically slap your mouth with your hand in order to not alert the whole neighbourhood to what the two of you are doing, but the rocking of the bed as you thrust across his mouth may as well give it away. As it takes over you fully you collapse, quickly rolling off of him to lie at the foot of the bed. This overwhelming feeling is everything you missed out on, and to experience it with the man taking over your dreams for years is a paradise. Your mind runs itself in circles at this euphoric fact, exploring every possibility of the future you may have as he crawls over to you, arms enveloping your naked body. “Thank you.” He mutters, kissing your jaw.

Within his arms you feel safe, like everything is right and how it should be. You turn to kiss him back, tongue circling each other and tasting yourselves like you never have before.

Neither of you know where to go from here, or what the other is thinking, but one thing is certain. You wouldn’t complain if the rest of your life was spent like this.

[babybatss-blog]

GUYS OMG IT HAPPENED!!

For those of you who have been here for a little, you know I'm a foster child whos scared of loosing my new foster parents because they have been so great. Now I'm 18 I've been looking at places to move into, as they aren't my guardians anymore but THEY SUPRISED ME EARLIER WITH ADOPTION PAPERS AND ASKED ME IF I WOULD LIKE TO BE APART OF THEIR FAMILY!!!

this is honestly the best day of my life, the past two years with them have been incredible and I was only going to move out as not to be a burden, but my new dad said their happy for me to stay with them as long as I like because I'm now their daughter :))

[babybatss-blog]

my longest fic yet will be out hopefully by the end of next week! Its a sam x f!reader fic, and I'm really proud with how it's turning out! I just need to fine tune it and it'll be all yours ;)

[babybatss-blog]

A HELPING HAND

sirius black x reader, 1500 words

summary: if there’s one thing you know, it’s to always trust Professor McGonagall’s advice.

c/w: nerd-ish reader who gets in detention, friends to lovers, confession of love. Mentions of insecurities, but nothing too intense.

a/n: rest in piece to the darling dame maggie smith. I hope I did her and her wonderful character justice, I just wanted to appreciate her in the best way I knew how <3          

You’ve always been a good student. You study hard, get good grades and never get in trouble, sometimes even getting made fun of by nasty students for being a nerd. Sirius never made fun of you though, he was always so sweet when you cancelled on him to study for a particularly hard test or ignore him because your too engrossed in writing your essay.

But why does that even matter now? Your strides through the stone hallway break your thoughts, internally cursing yourself for even slightly letting your mind drift from the problem at hand. You got a detention!

Well, not exactly a detention, but it’s as close as you’ll ever get. Your grades have been dropping below your usual impossibly high standards, and now the headmistress has asked to meet with you to discuss your current predicament. Unlike your Black family counterpart, you pride yourself on academic appearances, especially when it comes to higher up authorities like Professor McGonagall.

You knock on the hard wood door three times, the wood rumbling as it opens almost immediately. Before you sits this aforementioned professor, enveloped by a thick leather armchair and adorned in expensive jewellery. Truthfully, you aspire to be like her someday. Commanding and treacherous, yet simultaneously kind and beautiful. Her emerald broach shimmers in the sunlight pouring into her tiny study, and her slick back bun has a few curled whisps falling out. You wonder how she always gets her hair to sit so nice, and how long that must take every morning.

“Good afternoon Miss McGonagall.” You nervously state, quickly walking in and sitting primly in an armchair. She simply nods, going back to whatever letter she is writing with a soft smile. “I presume you know why I called you in today?” “Of course. And I’m very sorry I’ve fallen behind on my schoolwork professor. I promise I will get that transfiguration parchment to you once my defence against the dark arts test is done, and I’ve been studying tirelessly to get my scores to a more appropriate level, I promise.”

Despite the worry evident on your voice, she merely chuckles, acting as if you made a joke. You didn’t make a joke though, so you furrow your brow in concern. Did you say something wrong?

“No my dear. I was just calling you in to ask about your handwriting.” “My-? Oh yes, apologies for the messiness on my last assignment. I was in a bit of a rush, so I think some of my m’s turned into n’s.” Once again she laughs, this time straight from her belly, her head thrown back. You can’t help but feel your face burn up in embarrassment. “Messiness? Why I never! No darling, I meant to ask how it’s so neat! You see, I’ve been attempting to do those same loops you do on capitals, but I’m afraid I can’t replicate it!”

She slides over to you the parchment she was writing on, revealing random sentences repeated in order to practice replicating your font. Truthfully they are quite shaky, but you wouldn’t admit it to her face anytime soon. “Do you mind writing a few sentences for me? Maybe even casting piertotum locomotor on them so I can’t watch it back would be helpful!” You bashfully fulfill your task, writing some simple words on the page in swirling calligraphy. As you do this, your professor casually talks to you.

“I must say though, you were never much of the type to rush projects. What had you in such a hurry?”

“Nothing really, just a trip to Hogsmeade with Sirius Black.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Oh yes, it really was. Sirius wanted to go into town because he ordered a record from the post office that was due to arrive. It was some muggle band, I think it was called The Beatles? He said they are quite popular, and I see why. The singer is dreamy! He played it for me when we got back to school, and he gave me some of his Berty’s Botts Beans. He knows I love them you see, and he always tries to inspect them before he hands them to me so I don’t get the bad ones. Sometimes he gets it wrong, and I have to suffer anyways. But I…” You eventually realise just how much you have been rambling, as the page is suddenly filled with words you didn’t remember writing and you need to take a deep breath to rid of your light headedness. “Yes, I thought it was nice.” You finish up, not wanting to bore her with your story of a typical day out. But she honestly seems quite intrigued, looking at you with a peculiar arched eyebrow.

“You and that Black boy make a strange pair. A good one at that though.” You chuckle along with her, reminiscing on your differences that complement each other perfectly. “Many do say that. He’s a good friend to me.”

“Friend?” She mirrors, an almost offended tone on her voice. She takes the page away from you and blows on it as to help to ink dry, before placing it in a draw of her desk. “I don’t know why, but I always thought you two were together. Never mind me, I’m a silly old lass now.” Usually you are completely and utterly respectful no matter what is thrown at you, but something in her statement sets off a spark in which you immediately regret. “No! no no no no no. Sirius and I would never! I mean, have you seen how he- no, it would never work.”

Professor McGonagall looks at you in a way that can only be described as utter disbelief, and a tiny hint of disappointment before she speaks. “If you say so. But I have to say, I was just like you back in my day. So naïve…” She sighs, looking blissfully off. “You know…” She twists to face you, a smirk causing her features to almost become young once more. “When I was your age, maybe a little younger I liked a guy. Now don’t tell anyone I told you this but… He was a real dashing man. So proper and smart, but he really knew how to dance when the jukebox started!”

Suddenly you feel like Minerva McGonagall’s best friend, gossiping about your childhoods now those days are long gone. Never would you have expected to see this side of her, but you cannot complain when you see that energetic sparkle in her eye.

“And I believe he like me back. When I was tired he would carry me up to my common room, and and would tuck me in real nice and tight. But I never went any further. I was too nervous. So he started dating my friend, and five years later they got married! I hate to admit it but sometimes I wonder how things would’ve turned out. You don’t have to listen to an out of touch woman like me, but you know I have your best interest at heart.”

It takes you a good minute to properly process her words, repeating them in your head and wondering how she could be so right. No one, not even any of your closest friends have ever realised your concealed feelings, the only being hearing them is your little diary under the moonlight, which knows they will never come true. But here is your teacher, completely demolishing your tiny sense of secrecy and legitimising every worry you’ve ever had. When he kisses some random girl at a party you worry it will last between them, when you can’t find him in his usual spots you worry he’s abandoned you and when you look in the mirror you see merely a friend, someone who will never amount to him. But maybe you could. Maybe there is some universe where he feels the same, and you are lucky enough to be in that universe right now. After all, there always is a chance.   

“Go and get him.” She orders, staring into your soul with her blue eyes. You nod, tears fighting to leave your eyes as the weight of emotion takes over you. You stand up, thanking her breathlessly before running out.

Professor McGonagall knows that she did the right thing, judging by the conversation she had with Sirius about the same subject just the other day.   

[babybatss-blog]

Hii, I'm Brazilian, so I'm sorry for this shitty writing

can you write something with SDV Sam? I rarely see fanfics with him and I wanted a creative boost to imagine what his married life with the farmer would be like (with all the scenes, even some spicy ones 😉)

WITH YOU

(Stardew) sam x reader, 1400 words

a/n: since you left it pretty vague I tried to make this not too plot heavy, instead it’s a simple drabble on marriage with out fav bachelor! I hope this is what you were wanted lovely x

cw: proposal with a ring instead of mermaid pendant, marriage, slight out of characterness (which makes sense trust me), mentions of adult activities but nothing explicit, slight swearing, kissing and making out. Talk of babies at the end.

How he managed it, you’ll never know. For a man so often oblivious and clumsy, he pulled of the proposal of your dreams.

It was 11pm on a Friday, and after Sam randomly disappeared from the bar under the guise of a full bladder you thought something was off. Abigail and Sebastian were oddly giggly, the other patrons far too watchful of you and Sam was taking way too much time than he should be. Eventually you got up, walking to the bathroom to only find Alex. “Oh, he left.” He simply stated, a matter of fact tone that lazily disguised a strange excitement. “He went to the beach.”

You walk down to the beach, muttering to yourself about what he could possibly be doing. He didn’t have much to drink so this wasn’t some dumb wandering, and he seemed relatively happy earlier so it couldn’t be that something upset him. Come to think of it though, he did appear overly fidgety, like a man with something stressful on his mind.

As you near the beach, shimmering lights start to appear. At first they remind you of Zuzu city, but once you see the man standing in the middle of them, you know that you are actually home. Your home stands within the candles, a grin on his face as you realise: this is it. The day you have dreamed for since you were a child, wishing you could have. It doesn’t take a very long nervous speech from Sam to bring you both to tears, choking out repeated agreements between lovesick kisses and hugs. The next couple of months are spent in a bliss, no matter how stressful. It turns out that Sam was contemplating the day of your marriage just as much as you were, so the collaboration of the wedding went by as a breeze.

What colour is the aisle? Blue. What type of bouquet do you have? Wild grass and Dandelions. What is served at the reception? A mix of pizza pockets and joja cola (despite how unprofessional it may be, this had to be done.)

And the honeymoon phase never ended. It may be because you never actually got to go on a honeymoon, but the two of you spent everyday in a comfortable paradise, going about your daily tasks and enjoying each other’s comfortable company. “Do you think you could teach me how to plant crops?” He asks out of the blue, when the two of you were cuddled up on the couch watching another horrible sitcom. Surprisingly, Sam has managed to mellow out in his locked down lifestyle, swapping his late-night escapades for meaningless conversations and the sound of heavy metal to the rain on a drowsy afternoon. You snort, shocked by his change in attitude. The Sam you knew, so boisterous and uncontrollable has been replaced with a lovesick old pup, preferring spending time with his partner over risking his life.

“You? Mr hay fever? No way!”

But less than a week later it happened, and he was collapsed in the grass, sweaty and pouty. “Who knew gardening would be so hard?!” He whined, throwing his head back like a toddler who was told they couldn’t have ice cream. You laugh, walking over and holding his chin in your hand, towering over his weak frame. Your gloves get dirt on his face, but neither of you care because his jeans have been ripped up, hair frizzy, and he even managed to cut himself with a shovel, however impossible that may seem.

“I warned you. But you insisted that you would be fine, dumbass.” “You should have forced me not too.” “I know beautiful boy. I’m sorry.” You croon, crouching down to his level. But all prior anger dissolves within him at the look in your eyes, leaning forward for a deep kiss. Despite his grown-up demeanour, the two of you still love like teenagers, hungry for each other’s touch and fragile after every little look. His tongue lurches into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny like it’s the first time as you groan in pleasure at his unadulterated lust. You would never admit what happened next.

It's not even three months into the marriage now, and Sam wakes up to find you already up, as per usual. You stand at the window with a cup of tea in your hand, and he can smell the mouthwatering pancakes you made on the table. How he got lucky enough to have you, he’ll never know. “Good morning sexy” he teases, slinging his arms around your shoulder and looking out the window with you towards your hard work. That’s one thing he’s always admired from you… Your insane amount of dedication and resilience. When you inherited the farm, it was a battered mess, and after school he would go there with Abigail and Sebastian, always returning home with blackberry cuts and twigs in their hair. But now it is a utopia, alight with all types of plants, animals, and decorations. Plus, you managed to make an insane profit out of the whole ordeal, turning your struggle to pay the bills into shouting everyone at the saloon on someone’s birthday to a drink and a hot meal. “Have a good sleep?” You ask, looking up at him with an adoring smile. “Course, you know me.” Scoffing, you reply with a shaking head “like a baby.”

And honestly, it’s true. If Sam has one talent, it’s his ability to fall asleep in a split second. The moment the lights are off he’s obnoxiously snoring, often crushing you with his dead weight. If he was to be asked why, he would say it’s because of you. Just as much as you view him as your home, he also sees you as his. A safe haven, someone he knows will take care of him and always be there for him, no matter what.

“Like a baby.” He repeats, looking out the window with a strange, squinting expression. It confuses you, but you don’t push. After all, he just woke up. It’s not uncommon for him to struggle with opening his eyes or being a functioning human being in the morning, he’s like a bear out of hibernation. But eventually he lets you into his thoughts anyways. “Actually, I’ve been thinking… How would you feel about trying for baby. I know we are still pretty early into this whole marriage thing, but it just feels right. I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.”

For the first time in a long while Sam seems properly nervous, rambling his words and shuffling about. It’s nice to see that side of him, and truthfully you feel like you were at the start of the relationship too. Happy. Giddy. Excited. “Seriously?! Sam, I thought you said you wanted to take your time with that part of our life??” You place the mug down and turn to him, furrowing your brow. This unintentionally makes him panic, backing up on his words regretfully. “No, no I’m still happy for that. Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I know I wanted to take my time. Sorry.” Your heart melts, looking at your husbands worried face. Shouldn’t he know you would never judge? You peck his cheek, holding both his hands with a tender smile. “Don’t be sorry. I’d love that.” In a split second he lifts you up into his arms, kissing your face in a variety of places as you laugh.

“Baby baby baby!” he chants, jumping up and down. Soon he practically launches you onto the bed, lying on top of you and further peppering you with kisses, that uncomfortable stitch in your side forming from your pure laughter and ecstasy. It’s safe to say the next couple of weeks are spent tirelessly trying, in between sessions of rants about how great your little family is going to be.

[babybatss-blog]

hello my beautiful friends! I was thinking of doing a little tribute fic for the lovely maggie smith where mcgonagall has a chat with the reader which makes her realise her feelings towards sirius, thus causing a "go get em" moment, but I'm not sure if that is a bit innapropriate due to current events. She was such a lovely lady that I would love to do a piece highlighting her kindness if it isn't rude, what do you all think?

[babybatss-blog]

this is so sad, we were so lucky to have her </3

Dame Maggie Smith

1934-2024

[babybatss-blog]

NEW ZELDA GAME NEW ZELDA GAME NEW ZELDA GAME this may inspire me to make some zelda x reader fics but im loving it so far !!!!

[babybatss-blog]

DOMESTICS

Sirius black x reader, 1100  words

summary: all you wanted to do was cook Sirius some chicken for dinner, but perhaps things don’t always go your way.

c/w: established relationship, alcohol consumption, swearing and crying, argument between Sirus and Reader. Practically just tame, basic relationship angst that turns into fluff :)

The classic casual Friday night is always a big step in any intimate relationship. Stepping out of uncomfortable outfits and delicate table foods into comfy hoodies and junky snacks creates a whole new level of intimacy with a partner, and can be quite nerve wracking for at least the first few instances. 

But you and Sirius are way past that.

On the first date, you stayed the night at his for two whole days. You met his best friends on that second day, and he met yours just four days later. James said you were funny, and Lily said Sirus was smitten. He admired your comfortableness with him while you appreciated his lack of care towards your groggy state every morning, and a week in you both shared your deepest traumas with each other. On some random Wednesday your parents turned up unannounced in your apartment, which is when he met them both shirtless and slightly hungover (though he concealed the latter expertly).

So, two months later it is entirely expected to have Sirius lounging on your couch, watching some Netflix overproduced action show and as you cook dinner. Usually he prefers taking control of the kitchen because he “likes to spoil his girls”, but he did not impose when you insisted it was your turn to give him some love. The kitchen smells like a variety of spices and mouth-watering flavours, and despite the simple dish you are preparing the kitchen looks like a professional chef is making a world-famous meal. Plates, pots and pans are spread around, ingredients spilled on any and all surfaces and your state decreased to completely dishevelled, huffing and puffing at every slight inconvenience to come your way. “This needs to be perfect for him.” You think, anxiously managing every element with not a moment to spare. Unbeknownst to you Sirus has now snuck over, and softly places his chiselled chin on your shoulder as you peer over the cooking meat.

“Looks raw.” He states nonchalantly, arms creeping around your waist. “I know. It’s not done yet.” You explain bluntly, words leaving your mouth slightly more harsh than you intended. But you don’t take them back, as your focus is entirely taken up by the meal in front of you.

Wait, I thought it was done? What’s it meant to look like if it is done? What does it taste like? What more does it need?

He soon releases you, walking away to the bathroom as he calls out. “Sorry for not wanting to be poisoned I guess!” You huff, opting to not fight back in fear of putting too much energy into something that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. You and Sirius are both painfully stubborn when you want to be, and are often laughed at by your friends for getting in ridiculous arguments. Once, you needed to go on a walk and clear your head after the two of you debated which Barbie movie is the best.

As he returns from the bathroom he subtly side eyes the chicken, seeing you have now placed it on a plate ready for serving. Against his better judgment, he calls out, in a half cough half word amalgamation which complains “still raw”. Would it be smart for you to reply? No, of course not! But do you do it anyway? Obviously!

“WELL WHY DON’T YOU COOK THEN MR PERFECT?!” You snap, eyes erratic and wide as you face him. He scoffs, hands placed on the kitchen counter opposite you.

“I’d be happy to, but you didn’t fucking let me!”

”Didn’t let you? I’m not your mother, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you!”

“Well it isn’t nice if I’m too sick to go to work tomorrow!”

“Relax hard ass, you start work at three!” The argument quickly escalates past the point of reasonable, as Sirius’ arms flail widely about and the vegetables are left to burn in the oven.

In a closing statement you call Sirius a “spoilt brat” and he storms off, slamming the bedroom door behind him so he can no longer hear you if you try to apologise. Tears well in your eyes as you look around, realising what just happened truly as your brain finally processes. How can your worst argument be about some stupid chicken? You rush to repair the damage of your distractions to the meal, pulling the vegetables out of the oven as your salty tears fall within. You can barely see through your exaggerated sobs, mad at yourself for all manner of things.

Why did you let his simple comments go to your head? What if he’s right, and the meals a disaster? Will he despise you now for going so off the handle? Is this the last night of your fleeting romance?

You quietly serve up the food as these thoughts run through your head, wiping away gushing tears and snot as you go. Once it’s done, you tentatively go over to the closed door of the bedroom and knock a few times. You hear some shuffles, and the door is opened to reveal an unimpressed Sirus. “Sorry…” You mumble, eyes glued to the wooden floor between you. He pushes past you in silence, grabbing his plate and sitting down on the plush couch. As much as you would like to beg for forgiveness and list all the reasons you should stay together, you don’t deem that important when he pats the space next to him to sit down, handing you a sympathetic yet weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He finally gets out, eyes drilling into your still shy figure. “I just was trying to help.” “I know. But I didn’t want you to have to worry. I wanted to spoil you; you know?” His hand falls onto your thigh, the other placing the chicken in his hungry mouth. You join him in eating the meal, and reluctantly admit what you wished wasn’t true.

“It’s not fully cooked.” You pout, tears still glossing your eyes. He chuckles, placing his plate down and enveloping you in a hug. “That’s fine gorgeous. UberEats it is.” You pull back and quickly peck his lips, a smile forming on both your faces as you respond.

“Only if it’s Mexican.”

“Deal.”

[babybatss-blog]

Hey Abigail request here!

You can do whatever but pretty much I just want Dom!Abigail x fem! Or gn! Sub!reader smut maybe pegging? Idk

TO PISS OF YOUR DAD

Abigail x fem!reader, 1050 words

c/w: predeveloped relationship with COMPLETELY EXPLICIT SMUT, f on f, slight slut shaming from Pierre, and Abigail has daddy issues. Swearing, dom!abigail with sub!reader, grinding, eating out, and religious comparisons throughout.

It always ends like this. Gasping, shaking and screaming, in loud enough tones to wake even the bears in hibernation deep in the woods near your farmhouse. Abigail’s good at doing this, often making you see all variety of deities you previously didn’t believe existed through the religious experience that is sex with her.

This particular evening Abigail comes knocking on your door, adorned in a leather jacket, skimpy bralette and skinny jeans that caused a heated argument with her father before she walked over. “You look like some dumb prostitute” he pestered, excruciating hatred oozing off his voice. She stormed out, not dwelling on what he thought. Because who cares what he thinks? She isn’t anything of the sort, and even if she was it isn’t his business. You treat her well, and that’s all that matters.

You open the door, that familiar dazzling smile on your face at the sight of your beloved girlfriend. “Abigail” you coo, more than pleased at the woman in front of you. But your face drops when you see her lack of mirrored enthusiasm, so you hold her shoulders with worry that can only be described as doting, and slightly deprecating (though you would never mean it that way). “Sorry. Dad pissed me off again.” You groan, pulling her in and sitting her down at the dinner table. In front of her is a ravishing plate of Spaghetti Bolognese, adorned with a thick layer of cheese, just how she likes it. You begin diligently massaging her shoulders as she digs in, allowing her to air any grievances with the same sense of kindness you’ve always had about you.

“He didn’t like my outfit, said it was unladylike and called me a whole bunch of stupid names. I don’t get it. He doesn’t give a fuck until it effects his reputation, and then he won’t leave me the hell alone. I’m an adult now, why can’t he see that?!” After letting go of the thought weighing on her head a silence ensues, until you finally speak up. “Well fuck what he thinks then. You’re right, you are an adult now, with a girlfriend and your own responsibilities. So lets just ignore him, and have a good night.”

You sit down, rubbing her thigh up and down with your soft hands as you join the meal. This is something you’ve always been good at, distracting her whenever her dad gets on her last nerve. And this empowers her, because she doesn’t have to be daddy’s good little girl anymore. She’s an adult, who can piss of Pierre whenever she so chooses.

She pushes the now empty plate away from her, and waits for you to finish before standing up, leading you diligently by your hand to the bed. “Lie down princess” she directs, peeling off her leather jacket as you attentively lie down. Abigail then climbs on top of you, kissing you slowly as your hands cup her face. Like an angel from heaven you groan underneath her, mouth slightly vibrating against Abby in a way that makes her core tingle familiarly. “I love you.” Abigail mumbles, knee inching up to press on your already wet folds.

The feeling of skin against your underwear is tantalising, making your mind go numb at all the possibilities of what could happen tonight. Your hips rock in such a way that makes your cunt throb against her, ignoring the smile that forms on her pink mouth at your desperate ways.

“So eager…” She teases, your bottom lip trembling as she puts more pressure down on your sweet spot. You rock faster and faster, already reaching the high which you know Abby won’t let you have anytime soon. She pulls away, fidgeting with the zip of your skirt with shaky hands to get it off. She may appear nonchalant and uncaring, but truly she is obsessed with how you look tonight. Her favourite noise is your voice calling her name, and her favourite feeling is her nails digging into your hips. It makes her brain fry, and she can’t go a minute without thinking about you. What would you think about this outfit? How would you respond to an annoying situation? When do you need her touch the most?

Once both the skirt and underwear are off, she leans down and kisses lightly just above your cunt. “Beautiful” she whispers, as she spreads your legs and delves into your folds. She laps up your sweet fluids with the eagerness of a woman who hasn’t seen you in years, when in reality you did just this last night. Immediately you moan, the sensation causing a familiar pleasure which drives you insane. “Oh Abby” You exclaim, her tongue driving circles into your throbbing clit. She sucks and licks and spits, determined to make you see stars. And she does, your vision goes blurry, legs shaking and head spinning. As your hands grip the bed sheets, you curse to relieve the overwhelming ecstasy. She’s truly a pro, now knowing every way and spot that you love her to touch.

Soon you cannot take it anymore, screams reverberating on the four walls of your cabin and all of Abby’s strength pinning you down so your hips don’t buck. Soon you go weak, your peak being reached as your body catches up with the world around you.  Abigail climbs up to cuddle your frail figure, hands running through your hair as your inner fluids still coat her face. But she doesn’t care, instead just listening to the pants you make as you come down from the high.

“I love you so much Abby” you finally manage, hand holding her soft skin once more. She kisses the top of your head, silking hair still shining in the dim lights as she responds. “I love you too princess.”

Although it takes you a while to recuperate, the rest of the night is spent with the two of you reaching your highs over and over again and thanking every moment that led you into each other’s warm arms.

[babybatss-blog]

maybe this is an issue but I feel like I can't write smut without having a glass of wine. I just need to be slightly tipsy in order to channel those vibes... anyone else?

[babybatss-blog]

Heyyyy! How’s everything going?

If you’re up for it, I’d love to see a Sirius Black x fem reader where she’s sick or injured and he takes care of her.

Totally understandable if this doesn’t inspire you though!

Have an awesome day 🥰

DELUSIONS AND DAYDREAMS

Sirius x f!reader, 1000 words

a/n: hey anon, im doing good thank you! I hope everyone is also doing well :) this was such a cute lil fic, I hope it’s the right dosage of fluff mixed with angst for your day <3

c/w: friends with tension. Reader has a twisted ankle, smoking, sexual connotations and a confession of love.

He warned you not to do it, he really did. When you said you were going ice-skating on the black lake with your friends he told you that you’re “too clumsy for your own good”, but due to your unresolving stubbornness you went anyways. So he’s not surprised when Marlene messages him a few hours later, bluntly stating that you “twisted your ankle and need someone to come and get you.”

Without a second thought he walks down to you, throwing some weak and easily transparent excuse over his shoulders to his friends. Rest assured the moment he leaves James will make a comment on how head over heels for you he is. When he arrives, it doesn’t take him long to spot you. You’re sitting alone on the edge of the lake, snow cushioning your jeaned legs from the ground and a despondent look on your face as you watch your friends laugh and scream without you. His poor girl, you look so upset by yourself. He creeps up behind you, sitting down to meet your sniffily little figure.

“Hey darling.” He coos, the oddly romantic pet name rolling off his tongue like many times before. “Siri…” You mutter, flopping your forehead onto his shoulder weakly. Sirius chuckles, scratching your head comfortingly. “Come on, I’m taking you back to my dorm.” You groan, not even moving from your spot, but Sirius doesn’t give in easily. He never does. Instead he merely huffs, effortlessly picking you up regardless of your protests. You always tell him he’s “too much”, constantly flirting or playing with you. “I’m not going to ever get a boyfriend if you keep on doing this!” you always yell. Perhaps that’s his plan, because he’s been desperately in love with you from the day you first met.

As you walk, he ignores the judging stares of others and instead opts to focus on easing your pain.

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Like a seven out of ten.”

“Well that’s no good princess! You didn’t try any spells on it?”

“Lilly did, but I don’t think it helped much”

“I’ve got some tokes in my room, maybe that’ll help.”

“Yay!!”

When the two of you arrive, the boys are sitting in the common room, staring disappointedly at him as he carries you into his room. He knows later he’ll get some lecture by Remus about how he needs to start “putting himself first”, but he doesn’t care one bit when he sees you lying on his bed, silky hair spread out on his linen and eyes fluttering in a daze. What if he was on top of you right now, making you scream his name with that pretty little voice and scrunched up face and-

No. He can’t think about that. It’s wrong.

As promised earlier, Sirius whips out a pack of cigarettes and hands you one, smiling when you giggle in delight. The two of you sit in a blissful silence for a while, both separately enjoying the smoke and depth within both of your lungs. That is, until you break the silence with something Sirius wouldn’t even imagine in his own mind.

“Wouldn’t it be crazy if we dated?” Hah, that would be insane he thinks, respective of his own ideas. Instead Sirius just stays silent, too scared of what could blurt out of his mouth. “Cause Frank mentioned something to me the other day that got me thinking… Why did nothing ever happen between us?” Sirius darts his head up to meet you, puzzled by the question. Truthfully, he has pondered this very idea on many sleepless nights, wondering why you always went for the good, boring guys and never blushed whenever he makes some blatant flirt in your direction. He was hot, other girls tell him that all the time. And you know that you can trust him, you’ve been friends for years. But of course it never happened. Perhaps your just out of his league.

“I-I don’t know. I guess we were just never into each other like that.” He finally manages. You scoff, your half lidded eyes looking at him in jest. “That’s not true. I was crazy for you all of year one two and three.” “Wait, what?” You laugh at his shock, which quickly turns into a grimace as you moved your foot in some awkward way, forgetting it was injured. “Sirius, you could never tell? I used to pray to Merlin that you would like me back, but then you got with Daisy M and I moved on.”

Every moment, every time he cursed himself for feeling how he does and dreaming about you came crashing down on him. How could he be so stupid? In one big puff his cigarette is finished, snuffing it out onto his battered and broken bedside table and placing his head in his hands.

Although it appeared distant in his confused state, he heard your voice clearly rattling his brain as you continue to speak. “I think we could do it. Like, we could be a thing. Your hot, I’m… average and we know each other better than anyone. Plus, it would probably be easiest. Instead of wasting our time trying to find someone else.”  Sirius tries not to break down at your words, revealing it’s all he’s ever wanted. “Just a chance” he would say, “Just one chance to prove I’m worth your time.”

But before he can say any of the millions of thoughts swirling around in his head your fast asleep, the pain from earlier finally catching up with you and the cigarette ash coating his bed to the side of you.

He brushes it off, kisses your forehead and walks out.

“I love you darling.”

[babybatss-blog]

FOR YOU

Abigail (stardew) x reader, 2000 words

summary: Despite her own interests and sanity, Abigail can’t help but partake in your hobbies.

cw: preestablished relationship between Abby and reader, innocent reader, kissing, slight swearing

The two of you are sitting together in Cindersap Forest, a red picnic blanket separating you from the green grass and thick pines trees separating you from the blue sky. Your head is lying on Abigail’s lap, her hand subconsciously brushing through your hair as she scrolls on her phone.

Suddenly you gasp, words in your book captivating you like many times before. “You alright?” She asks, eyes leaving the screen to look at you. “Yeah. I just finished my book, and it was amazing! At the end… No, I won’t spoil it, but it was incredible!” The way your eyes sparkle as you sit up, voice pitching up in your excitement makes Abby grin. She honestly could listen to you rant and rave about your novels forever.

“I’m glad. You know I’m not going to read it though love, I haven’t picked up a book since forever.” You pout, your cherry red lips turning downwards like a sad little puppy. Truthfully just like a puppy, Abigail wants to shelter you, keep you safe from the world and carefree. She envies your innocence, forever getting muddy on your farm or barely escaping danger in the mines without any care. She on the other hand has other things to worry about, more important events like her pressuring father or decisions to make on her impending future. “Abby you have to read it! The plot twist blew my mind, and it has heaps of action in it and deaths and romance and-“ Unable to argue with your sweet soul much longer, Abigail breaks your rambling with a kiss. It’s light, barred by her pleased smile and the way you hum against her. You are each other’s biggest weakness, and every moment spent together always ends like this. Intertwined, private, heated.

That’s why not another word is exchanged for the following twenty minutes, ending with the two of you sprawled out on the blanket with desperate breaths for air once more. “I’ve got to go…” You manage finally, as Abigail uses every muscle in her body not to pull you in again. She knows that you need to go, because Robin needed you to come over at 4 to help carry planks. But why couldn’t you stay just five more minutes?

Eventually you’re gone, leaving Abigail on the blanket alone. You took with you all of your belongings, including your phone, basket, cutlery and leftovers. But you do leave… The book.

Whether you did it on purpose or not Abigail is sure, but the way it’s placed so perfectly entices her. The light shimmers of it’s glossy cover, pages worn yet intact and bookmark hanging out as you left it. Abigail picks it up, lightly flicking through the pages and inhaling the fresh smell it produces. Would it be so crazy to give it a read? No, surely not! It would make you happy, and it doesn’t look that long… right?

It’s now two in the morning, and Abigail is huddled under her bed sheets, eyebags fighting desperately with her mind to fall asleep. Truthfully, Abby didn’t really realise how long books can take. How was she supposed to know 400 pages was a lot? And what’s worse, is she actually likes it. Realistically she should tell herself to go to sleep, perhaps read more in the morning. But her eyes are stuck to the page, almost breathing in every word and consuming every feeling. And this goes on for hours more.

Three in the morning, her favourite character dies. It’s a painful, agonising death, which brings Abby’s usually strong demeanour to a crashing halt. Perhaps it’s the tired delusions, but she soon begins sobbing, body shaking and mouth covered by a weak hand to stifle her cries. Frankly she should’ve seen it coming, her favourite character was too sweet for this world. Sort of like you, and she wouldn’t let anything happen to you, no matter what.

It's the final page of the book, and the sun has well and truly risen. Abigail isn’t sure how, but sometime during the night she ended up on the floor and is now sprawled out, arms aching from holding the book up above her purple locks of hair. “No. Fucking. Way.” She says aloud, voice hoarse from making comments into the abyss during the night. Its an insane plot twist, one she never would’ve seen coming, yet it makes sense nonetheless. I mean, of course that was going to happen. The way it was set up, the subtle foreshadows and hints sprinkled in.  How naïve she was to think it would go any other way.

But she can’t just sit here pondering the novel on her own when she’s got you! She gets ready quicker than ever, throwing on the first top and pants she sees, brushing her hair frantically and grabbing an apple from the kitchen as she walks out, despite her mothers confused cries. “Honey, your dad needs help in the shop today ~” Whatever, Abigail’s got something better to do.

When she arrives at your farm, you’re watering your crops and whistling some tune. Abigail can’t pinpoint the tune exactly, but it sounds like a lark’s song. One that you hear when your deep in the forest, that brings a smile to your face at natures raw beauty. “Hey love” Abby utters, hiding the book behind her back. Your eyes snap up to meet hers, and you grin in a way that makes her heart flutter. Without a word you set the watering can down and skip over to her, sending her stumbling backwards with an enthusiastic hug. As you do this you spot the book, and pull it out of her pale hands.

“Oh thanks! Did I leave it behind yesterday?” Abi nods, tucking your soft hair behind your ear to get a better look at you. “Yeah. But I did have a look at it…” In response you frown, tilting your head in confusion. You clearly don’t understand what Abigail is trying to tell you, and you understand even less when she gives you a confident smirk in return. “I read it love. The whole thing. And I have to admit, it was pretty good.

Just as she hopes, you squeal, jumping up and down and flapping your arms in shock. “No way! Oh Abs, I’m so glad.” You pull her in for a kiss, wrapping your arms firmly around her as she holds your head in place. The two of you try not to smile, but you can’t help it when you are locked in an embrace like this one, euphoria surrounding you. Finally you pull away, looking deep into her eyes with an intensity Abby loves all too well. “Come on, let’s get some coffee and talk about it more.” You lead her into your house with these words, looking back at her with an eager smile. Something tells her that a chat isn’t all the two of you will be doing.

[babybatss-blog]

UP LATE

Sirius x reader, 620 words

summary: Sirius turns up at your house late at night, because he’s just missed you too much to keep away.

cw: preestablished relationship between Sirius and reader, modern au? (mention of texting and calling). Kissing and making out. Suggestive language.

Usually, teenagers love school holidays. Not if you’re a student of Hogwarts though, whose average day at school consists of flying broomsticks and magic spells. So, this summer holidays have been a bore to say the least, consisting of binge-watching reality tv shows and messaging your friends. You’ve especially missed your boyfriend Sirius, who recently moved in with James after reaching a breaking point with his parents. He hasn’t been able to see you because one of your neighbours is friends with his parents, but over call he’s been updating you on everything he’s been up to.

You call him, and the phone rings. And again. And again. Weird, he said he would be free tonight. He doesn’t pick up, so you send a quick message to him before going downstairs to grab a snack. You think to yourself how he’s probably just away from his phone at the moment, and will be back any minute as you skip back up the stairs with some leftover pizza in hand. Your parents went out for dinner tonight with some friends, so the old faithful dominoes came to the rescue. When you arrive back at your bedroom you flop down onto the bed, checking your phone to see no new notifications.

Continuing what you’ve been doing for the rest of the school holidays you put on another tv show, this one being about some sort of 1800s romance. Is it the best thing you’ve watched? Definitely not, but it distracts you for a good hour until you realise that Sirius never actually got back to you. What is this man up to? You start to worry, mind racing to unrealistic scenarios like his mother turning up at James’ house or him dying in a horrific car accident.

Excessive? Maybe. But you’ve got better things to worry about when suddenly the man haunting your thoughts is rapping on your window.

“Sirius?!” You squeal, clumsily jumping out of bed and to the window. He has the goofiest smile on his face when you open it to the cold air, launching himself in with no regard for pain or consequence. “What are you doing here?” The man stands up and fixes his hair, a smug huff leaving his lips. “Seeing you obviously. Couldn’t wait any longer.”

You pull him onto your bed and sit-down hand in hand, studying his face in disbelief. Is he really in front of you right now? It feels like a dream, but to prove to yourself it isn’t you lean into him. Sure enough, the feel of his soft lips on yours is all so familiar and wanted, proving everything in front of you is true. “I missed you” You mumble, a lovesick haze falling onto your face. “You too darling.”

He falls on top of you as you lie down, sloppily kissing through both of your smiles. If your parents were home right now you would be concerned by the pornographic moans Sirius emits as his hands explore your body, but there no need for that as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

“Mind if I stay here tonight?” “Of course, as long as your prepared to hide in the wardrobe when my parents get back. “Anything for you.”

As the two of you continue your heated reunion, you can already tell it’s going to be a long night. But how could it not be with the one and only Sirius Black?

[babybatss-blog]

ive been in a bit of a writers block atm (thats why you havent seen me in a while) but im back! That being said, throw some requests my way so I know what yall want <333

Love ya!!

[babybatss-blog]

me when this is possibly my favourite fic I have ever written PLEASE READ IT!!!

BETTER THAN THIS

Link(totk) x reader, 1900 words

summary: you are Zelda’s personal assistant. Link is Zelda’s bodyguard. You’ve always hated each other, but what if that isn’t the complete truth?

cw: lots suggestive content, enemies to lovers fic with a wild amount of horniness and angst. Intoxication and random person is overly touchy with reader.

Who would’ve thought that you and the hero Link would be together tonight, in a passionate embrace underneath the Zora Kingdom party, your breath intertwined and lips colliding frantically? Certainly not you, who hated Link with every fibre of your being due to his uptight personality and constantly anxious demeanour.

You’re Princess Zelda’s personal assistant, organising her events and facilitating the revival of the castle after Calamity Ganon’s attack. Honestly, Link got on your nerves. He never left you and Zelda alone, was always worried about safety issues and didn’t answer your questions, as if he’s some sort of better person than you. And it was no secret that he didn’t like you too, divulging to Zelda that you’re taking the modernization of the castle too far or that your schedule is too much for her. Therefore, Zelda became your strange little message carrier, conveying messages between the two of you and trying to keep the peace. Sometimes she would try and complement him to you, saying statements such as “he was so kind the other day” or “He definitely worried about you when you left last night.”

She tries desperately to repair this illogical feud between you, but to no avail. That is until today, when the three of you are sitting in a wagon together on the way to the Zora domain. Sidon’s inauguration is tonight, and the princess is expected to attend for her blessing. This involves a party, grand feast and hours of boring speeches, but it’s for the best to have a prospering society in Hyrule.

“I’ve always loved this area so much. Don’t you?” Zelda asks, bewilderment in her eyes as she looks around the area. It is beautiful here, and Link seems to agree due to the twinkling look in his eyes. “Definitely. We’re planned to stay here for three days, but I may elongate the stay so we can do some sightseeing. I hear that they have built a Mipha memorial nearby.” Link stiffens at your words, having some sort of impact on him that you don’t quite understand. “I’m not looking at a statue of my dead friend.” He mutters, loud enough for you to hear but not Zelda, who is sitting opposite the two of you. You wonder whether you should speak up, telling him that Sidon put hard work into it but ultimately don’t stir the pot. Afterall, you don’t want to ruin the ride with your bickering once more.

The wagon enters the gates of Zora’s Domain, illustrating a wide runway with blues and aquas, like an underwater sanctuary out of a fairytale. Zora children and adults crowd the sides, waving enthusiastically at you as they cheer. Zelda smile’s back at them in that same way she looked at the views from earlier: grateful and ecstatic.

When a child runs over to the wagon and follows it through tripping steps and teary eyes, she holds up a ragged teddy bear to Link. “Link! Link! I love you!” He timidly takes it, an embarrassed blush quickly turning his face into a resemblance of a tomato. You laugh, finding his nerves shocking as he is the hero of Hyrule after all. “He said thank you!” You call out to the child as she stops following the wagon, noticing the despondent look on her face that he never responded. “Thanks…” He grumbles, avoiding your eye contact as he places the bear in his bag. “No problem. But maybe we need to get you into some of Zelda’s etiquette classes if you’re going to act like that every time a fan interacts with you.” Link just merely rolls his eyes.

You arrive, and as Zelda and Link already reunite with their old friends you set off to work. Those two may be able to have fun, but you don’t, rushing around to ensure everything is perfect for the princess. She certainly isn’t posh or judgmental, but Zelda does have certain things that she likes to have in her living situations. It is your responsibility to ensure that her journal is in her room, bags are unpacked and clothes are prepped for the next day, as well as checking that all the appropriate safety precautions are made.

After a while you collapse on a chair, watching Sidon’s attendees scatter around to prepare for the crowning. It’s tough work, and even tougher when you watch Link joke around with Sidon instead of helping. Isn’t he supposed to be Zelda’s bodyguard? So why is it your responsibility to update the guards on your arrival and suspected leave date and not his? Lost in your frustration about this and the other many things he does (like why is his hair always so silky??) you suddenly have someone sit down next to you, their toned bicep leaning on the back of the chair and an exhausted huff leaving their mouth. 

“Zelda told me to take a rest while she goes for a walk with Yona. Mind if I join you?” Asks Link, his eyebrows furrowed as if he just did something preposterous. You turn to him bluntly, eyes scanning his body. Who does he think he is, just suddenly acting like he’s your friend? But you don’t want him to get any satisfaction out of your shock, so you merely reply “Yeah that’s alright” before turning back away from him.

As much as you would love to uphold a confident, unbothered quality in this moment, the air is soon filled with and uneasy silence you yearn to break. But why? You never want to speak to Link, and certainly not with trivial small talk.

“This looks nice. The coronation is going to be beautiful.” He states. “Yeah, definitely. But they’re also so… long.” He laughs at your annoyance; in a beautiful rumble you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. You continue to talk, trying to conceal that pit in your stomach. “But Zelda loves them, and I know Dorephan is thrilled to pass on the throne to his son.” Link nods thoughtfully, pondering your words. “That’s true. I know this was a big day for Zelda, regardless of if she ever actually had a coronation or wanted one. It’s a nerve-wracking yet important step for any royalty, and culturally unique in every way.” Once he finishes your mind is fried, having never heard him speak remotely more than a sentence in the past. But he knows much more than you do, and his insight is intriguing to say the least.

The conversation is left there, after a cook runs up to you asking about the princesses’ dietary requirements. Before you know it, it’s well into the night and you feel like you haven’t breathed once. During the speeches you were ensuring Zelda was prepared for hers, during the crowning you were helping the chefs prepare the food and during the idle chatter you were having meetings with members of the community to see what the royal family could do to help them.

You find Zelda on the middle of the dance floor with the new king of the Zora, doing some sort of traditional jig and giggling like a schoolgirl. You told her not to have any wine tonight, but it seems she didn’t listen. “My dear, will you not dance with us?” asks an intoxicated and overtly touchy older Rito man. “Oh, thank you but I don’t know the dance.” “Well that’s fine, I don’t know it either! You just copy the person next to you! Here, follow me!” Without further warning he grabs your arm and pulls you onto the floor, twirling you despite how you almost fall over. The dance is complicated and fast, but with this random man’s lead you manage just fine. That is until it’s time to switch partners, and your viciously thrown into Links arms.

“Link?!” The two of you look at each other with the shock of seeing someone come back from the dead, even though you knew you were both at the party. “You didn’t strike me as a dancer” He says, and you scoff. “Neither did you. What are you doing?” “I don’t know, guess the wine got to me.” He answers honestly. Your hands intertwine and you clumsily follow the movements, as he does the same in a somehow even worse way. He twirls you, and you swear you see his eyes drift down to your ass, but they jump back up to your eyes with an intense glare. Just to spite him, you pull him in close, seeing his confident stare falter. “Having a nice night?” You smirk, hand clasping his shoulder. He’s warm but muscled. It feels good on your dainty hand. “Could be better. Want to get out of here?”

Did he just, say what you think he did? You stop dancing, despite being jostled by the people next to you. Wordlessly you nod, unable to get the words out as you fear that perhaps you’re dreaming this. But why would you? You don’t care what he thinks, or about spending time with him. Still holding your hand, he leads you down the stairs to the pools, leaning on the railing which overlooks the water and you join him, reluctantly dropping his hand.

“So, what’s your deal?” He asks, not even bothering to turn and look at you. “What do you mean?” “I mean why are you here? Being a personal assistant, following Zelda and I around. You seem… Better equipped for something more fulfilling.” You blush, surprised at his complement. “I don’t know. I guess it was just what was expected for me. Apparently my ancestors worked at the castle, and so when Zelda was hiring my parents were thrilled. They thought I was perfect for it, as it’s in my blood and all. But I… Wanted to adventure. Go to the wildest plains of Hyrule, climb the tallest mountains and meet the furthest civilisations. But I can still do that with you two!” A silence lingers between the two of you, an uncomfortable one that makes the hair on your neck stand up. Finally, he turns to you and straightens up. The creases on his forehead display true concern, one you haven’t had directed towards you since you were a kid scraping your knee after a tumble.

“No. You go and do that, Zelda and I don’t need you. This is your life, not your parents, not anybody else’s. Yours.” He seems truly angry when his says this, and it makes your heart flutter. When he says his next words he closes the gap between you, lips almost touching yours but showing the tiniest restraint to not. “You’re better than just some personal assistant. Trust me, I know it.”

That’s when you can’t take anymore, and you kiss him. If you were in any sort of right mind, you’d think you were insane for doing this, your fervour causing him to stumble back and grab your waist for support. But he kisses you back, tongue sliding hungrily into your mouth and grazing your white teeth. You moan, and he digs his nails into your ass.

You needed this, and so did he. Whether you knew it or not.