#I’m suddenly able to Write Emails and Get Work Done

[musicaldeductions]

*claws my way out of a months long, very severe depressive episode with nothing but boops and as many free silly plugins I can load into logic as possible*

[broken-freedom]

Nina can you write a blurb or one shot of Eren going to the strip club one day and discovers that Y/N is a stripper plus she doesn’t want anyone to know her secret that’s why she doesn’t tell anyone. One day he catches her and in order for Eren to keep her huge secret she has to give him more than a lap dance in the back room if you know what I’m saying 😏

• Your Little Secret •

Word Count: 1.9K

CW: lap dance, humiliation (?), face riding. 

A/N: It took me forever I know, but hey! It is now done at least! Enjoy ;) 

Your worst nightmare became reality the moment your eyes locked with his in the middle of your performance. You managed to keep your “job” a secret from every single person you know for 4 long years only to be discovered by the one person you hate the most.

 It started as a little extra support, because let’s be honest, who can afford to pay all this money every semester for 4-5 years atop of all other life expenses? You left home as soon as you graduated from high school and even with the extra shifts you were picking up here and there, the bills were left unpaid. When one day you were working as a waitress, serving dinner and cleaning tables, an older man slipped a note in your hand as he paid you a farewell, one you thought was a generous tip to conclude the good service you provided, or at least .. you hoped. You shoved the note in your back pocket and resumed working. 

After your shift ended, you opened the note to only find a number and a few words scribbled messily underneath “I can provide you more, somewhere else.” The note creeped you for days, but one afternoon you were desperate, unpaid bills everywhere, unsubmitted assignments alerts filling your school’s email. How are you supposed to find time to study when you are practically overworking yourself to be able to pay for rent, classes, gas and food?!

You ran to the note and with shaky hands opened it and dialed the number. 

“H- hello …?”  you start nervously. 

“I was waiting for your call” you hear the man on the other side of the line talking with such confidence.

Turns out to be a stripping job that the owner of the club saw you and thought you would be able to earn a little extra doing that instead of serving food and relying heavily on tips. Without a second thought you accepted, the number he offered you would solve 99% of your problems and you only needed to work 3 days per week. In the other 4 you can actually focus on your education and get your degree to find a better job for yourself that can fully support you. 

You managed to keep your little job a secret from your friends and classmates. Yes it is a small town, but who would go to a strip club on a Tuesday evening while needing to be in class first thing in the morning the next day? And it worked, for four years, you buried the truth intending to never admit it out loud, not even to yourself, until today….

The day where your secret comes out and everyone will know about it because of him. 

You were in the middle of your seductive movement taking off the little excuse of a bra as a part of your dance when you locked eyes with him. You feel your whole world crashing at once. The air around you is thick and making it hard to breathe. The room you’re in suddenly turns 100 degrees and rising. You meet his amused gaze with a  mortified one, feeling sick to your stomach. Your body is moving as you do every time performing your seductive dance as if you were on autopilot but your brain is flashing alarms at you to run away from his burning stare. The way his eyes are twinkling looking at you makes you sick, and you would love to smack that shit-eating grin out of his face, but you sadly have to carry the dance.

“Eren Fucking Jaeger..  Why is he here? We have a test tomorrow! Shouldn’t he be studying?” 

The more you wonder, the wider his grin gets, making you clench your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming from the top of the stage. 

Your thoughts are running 100 miles per hour but also trying to keep your cool as much as possible replacing the mixed facial expressions of disgust and anger with a much calmer and relaxed one. The show has to carry on no matter what. 

 Your body swaying left and right to the beat of the slow tone music as your own hands cupping and grabbing at your skin starting from your thighs to your hips, to finally settle on your tits. You try to keep your mind off him and focus on your work, you’ll have to deal with him later. But he makes it so hard for you with him whistling and cheering at your every movement, feeling his flame-filled gaze on your bare back even when you can’t see him. 

The moment the music dies to a stop you rush off stage and run in your heels to shield yourself from his prying eyes, you strip in front of thousands of people without care, but not him, not Eren. He will make sure to turn your life into a living hell now he knows your secret. You’ll have to run away, change your name, and find a new life elsewhere. But it doesn't always end up as you want as Eren catches up to you and holds your wrist preventing you from going further into the dressing room. 

“What do you want Eren?!” you try to yank your hand out of his grasp but no success since he is way stronger than you. “Oh why so shy now darling, you were ready to drop your panties for me not a minute ago?” He holds your gaze daringly. “I also paid for a lap dance, would never miss the chance of having Ms. perfect dancing half naked in my lap�� 

“Not in your wildest dreams! Let me go right now!” You try to push him away with your other hand, but he is faster, holding both of your hands now and pulling you closer to his chest, hovering over your face and smirking devilishly “You were the last person to come to mind when I asked for the best.. You? The best? Got to try to believe it .. or do you want your secret to make it past the walls of this building?” He twists you around and pushes you to walk in front of him to the same hallway you were going to earlier, not to your dressing room, but to the private room right next to it. 

You want to keep your job, it still pays the bills, but also needs to find a way to keep Eren from exposing you to everyone you know, you walk with him as you think, and think, and think, you need to have the upper hand in this situation, but knowing how evil Eren is, you will need to calculate your next step carefully.

You get inside the private room and push Eren to sit on the sofa, his hungry eyes exploring every inch of your body as you make your way to the pole in the center of the room. “Someone changed her mind” Eren chuckles thinking to himself how easily you got manipulated to do exactly what he wants. You wouldn’t want anyone to find out about this after all, and from who? So you’ll have to do what he tells you to do. 

You grab the pole, bending your body ever so slowly, giving Eren a full view of your puffed pussy strangled by the thong. A loud whistle coming from behind you reminding you of who is actually sitting there watching your every movement. You close your eyes shut trying to steady your breathing and carry on your plan. Slowly but seductively you make your way towards Eren pushing his knee apart so you can stand in between and reaching for his necktie to untie it “Hands behind your back Jaeger, club’s policy” He does what you tell him to do, hypnotized by how good you smell and you tie his hands behind his back. You bend over as you sway your hips pushing your tits closer to his face. The way he gulps the closer you get to him tells you that what you are doing is correct and gives you the energy you need to continue. You pull the string of your bra down exposing your boobs as you straddle Eren’s lap. Watching the teasing gaze drop from his face gives you satisfaction when you start grinding on him wanting to torture him. The more you grind the louder he growls “ Fuck …”  wanting more, and now you can feel him more. Erected, desperate, and wanting more, and you give him more by pushing your weight down on his cock but stand back on your feet quickly “wha- … why?” his confused tone makes you giggle. 

With one swift motion, you place one leg on Eren’s shoulder, reaching your hand to teasingly rub your clothed clit before you pull the string to the side exposing your wet pussy to Eren’s widening eyes. “You did not pay for this but I am feeling like giving you a special treatment today” 

The closer you get to Eren’s face the more he understands what you want to do “why are you doing this?” “Because I can, isn’t that obvious?” “But you- …” you cut him off when your pussy makes contact with his lips, tongue darting out immediately to taste the sweetness of your essence dropping into his mouth. He moans, loud, and you enjoy the scene of his eyes rolling back. Grinding his clothed cock was fun, he made cute noises, but riding his face is even more thrilling. His whole diameter changed and it is pleasing to watch. You pinch your nipples in between your fingers speeding the process, Eren thrusting his tongue inside your pussy with his nose pressed against your clit is more than enough to send you to cloud nine, drenching Eren’s face with cream liquid and a few drops falling into his shirt staining it white. Your legs shake and you try to steady yourself by putting your leg back on the floor, Eren is quiet, he is more surprised than you are by how your actions silenced him, but his eyes are screaming at you. You look at his flushed, wet face with amusement, his hands still tied behind him. One final step before you conclude your plan.

You drop to your knees in front of Eren, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to take his raging cock out, fully hard and leaking in your palm “what a pretty cock, Jaeger” you smirk giving Eren’s cock a few pumps making him growl in response. You keep your eyes locked with his as you bend lowering your head, but before your lips reach his tip, you tear your eyes away from Eren’s looking at his length in your hand “what a shame for a cock this nice to be attached to an asshole like you” and you spit on it before you stand up and start backing up to go to your room to change “keep your mouth shut Jaeger, or I know a way to keep it useful other than talking shit about others” 

Even though he never actually planned on telling a living soul about your little secret. He’ll still come to spite you every once in a while, and to get you to sit on his face again… 

xXx

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine being Bucky's neighbor

The noise: the constant noise coming from the halls would have driven Bucky insane had it not been for who the ruckus was coming from. He eased up from as he continued to type on his laptop, sending the email to his writing editor before removing his gaze from the screen. He checked the time on his smart watch and smirked – it was two in the morning, oh to be young again. His socks glided across the hardwood floor, faded white shirt and sweats on. It was his usual outfit for writing through the nights, what could he say? He was a creature of comfort and every Friday night, like clockwork, noise came from the hallway of the apartment complex he lived in. The floor he lived on for years had been quiet, the four apartments had been occupied by a retired couple, a photographer who was constantly away, a divorced fella and Bucky. Then the divorced fella moved out and a new tenant moved right on in – you, a snarky, loud only on the weekend’s talent manager. The first time the two of you met, you were attempting to break into his apartment, and it was a sight.

“Motherfucker, fucking…key….”

Bucky watched from the peephole, recognizing you from the other day; when you had a few friends helping you move in. He stared down at the jiggling doorknob, annoyed to no end that his writing session had been interrupted. Fed up with a few more attempts, he pulled open the door so suddenly that you flung forward. Bucky quickly stepped aside and watched as you fell onto his expensive antique carpet.

“Don’t throw up on the rug.”

“I don’t have rug in my doorway,” you murmured, getting up on your elbows. Her eyes glazed over to the living room, sobering up at the fact you weren’t in your apartment. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed, come on,” Bucky sighed and helped you to your feet. He held you steady for a moment by the waist, finally getting a good look at you. His face softened at the lightness in your eyes, the smirk on your face and the way your hands cradled your head. “You’re drunk.”

“Obviously.”

He laughed. “Your apartment is two doors down.”

You nodded, reaching for the frame of the door. Looking at your neighbor, you nearly threw up on seeing how attractive he was – even in his lousy white tee and sweats. He had a look to him, could be a model…

“You have a face for modeling. Are you signed to an agency?”

Bucky laughed again. “Absolutely not. I’m a writer.”

“Great.” You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the apartment. “Another pretentious prick, but at least I don’t have to work with you. Anyways, apartment two doors down…”

He said yes and scooted you out of his apartment, smiling uncontrollably as he watched you hobble away; nodding his head when you pointed to your door. You blew him a kiss, then saluted him before fetching your keys – the last thing he saw was your fingers wiggle goodbye as you disappeared into the apartment.

He saw you through the peephole, staring right at him and he grinned, flinging the door right open to a slightly inebriated you. Hair out of place, leather jacket on – you held up a bottle of expensive champagne and he asked if the night was successful. Grinning with glee, you moved into the apartment and turned as he closed the door.

“Two Oscar nominations! I stole this from Reese Witherspoon’s table.”

Bucky whistled and plucked the bottle from your hands, apologizing for not being able to make it. You waved a hand and promised it was fine, moving to him. His smile faded into contentment as your hands slipped up his back and he leaned in for a kiss. His body felt so nice and warm, free arm around your waist. You kissed him twice before asking if he was done writing for the night.

“Just sent the last pages to my editor.”

Practically giggling in excitement, you rushed to the kitchen and grabbed two wine glasses off the shelf. Bucky followed and leaned against the counter, opening the bottle with a boyish smile. You held the glasses out and he poured the champagne, setting the bottle down on the counter. You handed over his glass and he held it up in the air. He stared at you for a moment and couldn’t help but think of that first night – you were so drunk on his carpet. Then the next day he found a fruit basket at his door and note apologizing for your misbehavior. Of course, he had to thank you and asked you over for dinner – which turned into another dinner, then a late lunch and then sex. Mostly in that order.

Then everything turned into unexpected love and now you didn’t have to second guess which apartment door was yours, because his was yours now. And hopefully, the sparkling diamond ring in his desk would seal the deal later that week – that you would be his forever and ever.

“To us,” he chimed.

“To us,” you repeated, eyes softening as the glasses clicked. “And the hot sex we’re having tonight.”

Bucky laughed and clicked his glass against yours again. “Definitely.”

[vodika-vibes]

Round 4 *ding ding ding*

(This definitely feels like I'm taking advantage of you)

Tup and "Either go to bed and get some rest willingly or will drag your butt down the hall kicking and screaming. You know I'll have no problem with either option."

Okay, I'm breaking my own rule, but I thought it would be interesting to see the other side of Tup. You know, the side where sweet Tup isn't working and he needs to pull out the big guns?

Please and thank you, my love 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Time for Bed

Summary: You've been working for far, far too long...and Tup has a problem with it.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x Reader

Word Count: 776

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023

Divider by Saradika

You’ve been awake for…god, you don’t even know how long. Blearily, you cast your gaze to the chrono and stare at it blankly for a moment. It takes you a lot longer than it should for your eyes to focus on the numbers blinking innocently on the screen.

Oh. It’s 6 am, that’s not too bad.

Aside from the fact that you’ve been working since 5 am…yesterday.

It’s fine. Sleep is for the weak, or something. Besides, this project is important.

As in, if you don’t finish by the deadline people will be looking for your body for years to come, important.

Luckily, you’re almost done. You just have to write one more paragraph, and then you’re free to send it up to your direct supervisor for editing and everything else. 

You slam out the paragraph in less than ten minutes and lean back in your chair as the spelling and grammar check runs through all 50 pages you’ve typed in the last 25 hours. 

And the moment it pops up with no glaring mistakes, you save it, attach it to an email, and then send it to your boss, and you lean back in your chair. The chrono blinks 5:45 at you, and you sigh. There’s no point in trying to sleep now.

You might as well wait until this evening before you try to sleep. It’ll be fine. It’s not like you have any plans.

You spin your office chair around so you can stand without bumping into your desk, and yelp when you see Tup, your Tup, standing in the doorway. “Tup!” You press your hand over your heart, “I didn’t hear you!”

“I noticed.” He leans against the doorframe and you notice that he has an unimpressed brow raised in your direction. “Cyare, baby, love of my life-” Tup pushes off of the frame and walks over to you, setting his hands on your shoulders, “You’ve been working for over 24 hours. It’s time for bed.”

You smile up at him, “It’s fine, I can just wait until tonight.” You try to reassure, only for your smile to falter when he shoots you an unimpressed look. “It’s fine, really. I’m not even tired,” You add.

“Uh-huh.” Tup takes a step back and folds his arms over his broad chest, “Either you go to bed and get some rest willingly or I will drag your butt down the hall kicking and screaming.” He smiles, and you're suddenly reminded that your sweet, gentle Tup is just as much a soldier as his brothers, “You know I’ll have no problem with either option.” He finishes.

“I…” You pause, and then you hold your arms out to Tup, “Will you stay with me? At least until I fall asleep?”

Tup huffs and takes your hands to pull you to your feet. And then he scoops you into his arms, “Spoiled,” He chides lightly as he turns and walks out of your office and down the hall to your shared bedroom.

“Pleasssse, Tup?” You ask, as you look up at him with the saddest eyes you can muster.

He muffles a laugh, and kisses your forehead, “Yes, my sweet, spoiled cyare. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He gently sets you on your side of the bed, and tucks the blankets around you.

“Wait!”

Tup sighs deeply, “Cyare-”

“I just need my pajamas!” You say hurriedly, able to hear the frustration in his voice. Even Tup can only be pushed so far, after all.

He gives you a pointed look, and pushes you down to your pillow, before he stands and grabs the top of his blacks from the day before, and flings them at you from across the room, “Here.”

“Thank you,” You chirp at him before you shift and squirm under the blankets to replace your work clothes with his warm shirt, and then you toss your work clothes on the floor and curl up in a ball.

And when Tup slides into bed next to you, you release a happy noise, and roll so you’re able to press yourself against his warmth, “I thought you said you weren’t tired,” He teases, his voice low and soothing as he runs his hand down your back.

“‘M not.” You reply, as your eyes flutter closed, “Just love being near Tup.”

“I love you too, cyare.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head as your breathing evens out and you slip into a deep slumber almost immediately. And then he glances at the chrono, and decides that more sleep wouldn’t hurt, and he slides down in bed to curl himself around you.

[icedteaandoldlace]

💖📥🖊️🧠

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

I think maybe the dialogue. I have a lot of fun writing it, and it's also really fun to reread, especially if I nailed a character's voice well.

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

I don't really get comments frequently enough to know, but I know the fics I get most excited for getting kudos on are always the least popular ones. It's always nice getting them on any of my fics, but there's always that extra jolt of excitement when a title that hasn't gotten a lot of attention suddenly pops up in an AO3 email. Also, anything that has a fun twist in it. Even if it's super obvious, I like to hear when a reader picked up on what was going on, or if they saw it coming from the start.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Dante’s eyebrows sprung up in disbelief, and this time it was genuine. “Terry got mono?” he said, his voice wavering with barely suppressed laughter. “How did that happen?”

“He got it from my lab partner, which is why I’m paired with Cisco now,” Kamilla said impatiently. “Can you just tell me where he is please? I lost my notes and I really need him to lend me his.”

Dante tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t know where he is right now,” he said. “But if I had to guess, probably the library or the room where they have metal shop. He should have a free period right now, and he’s usually either got his nose buried in a textbook or he’s working on building something nerdy.”

She could hear what he was trying to do, and if she weren’t in a hurry, and if he weren’t Cisco’s dead brother, she might have told him off for it.

-from a somewhat cracky fic where Kamilla and Cisco get stuck in 2006, in an unfamiliar timeline where both their high schools are merged into one

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

A Flash season 6/early season 7 rewrite where Cisco didn't take the metahuman cure at the end of season 5, but instead had it forced on him by the collectors when they thought he was the one who killed Cynthia. He gets his name cleared like two minutes afterwards, but it's already too late, and the cure is irreversible, so They Done Fucked Up Big Time. And life without his powers is even more difficult this time around because it wasn't something that he chose. It gets even more frustrating after Crisis, because now Cynthia is alive, and Echo and the collectors agency don't even exist on Earth Prime, so why the hell does he still not have his powers when the event that caused them to be removed has been erased from history? (I already know the answer, but he won't figure it out until later.) He does end up getting them back, and he is able to open a breach into the Mirrorverse to rescue Kamilla, there's just a whole lot of stress and bullshit he has to deal with first.

[copingmechanism1899]

Feb 12, 2023

So it just hit midnight so this is all about “yesterday”.

We shot today. All the “common room” scenes for the project I’m working on right now. And I’ll say it now, I think it looks pretty good. It’s just I’m a bit TOed about what’s been happening.

Starting back from last semester, out first production meeting was pushed back (and I don’t think I know the reason,) So our first meeting ended up being during winter break. Which was, not terrible, but not my favorite. I had visuals and moodboard type things ready for that meeting so I was prepared. Or as prepared as I could be, considering we didn’t have a final script yet and virtually no information.

I find out during this meeting that the director wants to film at the school, and that sounded great, as I had heard horror stories from the other films about having to shoot on location. But then she emails me after the meeting to see if we can talk location. Of course I say yes, and we hop on. I end up hearing that she doesn’t like any of the option that had been suggested to her, and so I was asked if I had anything else in mind. (Taking a break here to go to sleep because I suddenly got very tired,very fast)

So it’s now the 15th, but I’m finally in a place to write some stuff out.

Going back to the planning stage, I want to say, I tried to be as prepared as possible, as soon as possible. Even before the production meeting was pushed back, I had a props list done based on the version of the script that I had. I wanted things to go smoothly because of all the horror stories I heard from my peers about how films were super difficult and messy.

So I’m doing my best to communicate, but it was super difficult to get information. I was never told a date for when the final script would be locked, and once it was, I wasn’t sent a copy. I didn’t know there had been an update until I was talking with the SM team and they asked me why I had some opinions when things didn’t happen that way in the script.

But we go through the motions, getting things ready and whatnot, and every time (Dang, it’s the 17th now) I get a new little comment, it’s just a surge of work until I’m back in limbo, with no information on how to move forward.

One of the things that (at the time) I thought was super important, was the shot list. In film, you make a shot list so that your designers, director and actors know what is going to appear on camera. Both the lighting designer and I asked multiple times for a shot list as soon as possible, but we didn’t end up getting one until the 9th. Apparently the DP was pretty bad at getting back to people... Filming started on the 11th. Not to mention, that our location changed on the 10th. So going into filming, I felt under prepared and scattered.

The location had been an ongoing thing, with the first call over winter break, and having multiple factimes once we got back. I suggested a location over break, she asks the production supervisor about it. We don’t hear back until about 3 weeks out. A week later we have a factime and it changes to a smaller room. Final rehearsal and it goes back to the big room. I’m worried that we won’t have enough to dress.

Edit (23rd): [On the day of our final rehearsal, we were told that we would be able to rehearse in the space, but when we got there, another club was already there. So we we’re moved to the lobby of one of the other theatres. The club had apparently told the director that they had the space reserved, but upon further emailing (after it was too late to go back), they actually did not, and we were supposed to be in that room. So, sucks but what can you do?]

But back to the shot list. I understand that everybody has their own templates and workflow, but every single crew member working on this film was A) a student, and B) had never worked on a film before. The shot list was difficult to understand, and didn’t give any information on what we were supposed to prep for. But I digress. I just know that the director had said “360 degree shot” and that frightened me.

But everything ends up happening and we get in on the 11th at 8am, and Props/Scenic is setting up. A sidebar here, I did actually have a mentor throughout this process, and while I didn’t really have many “design” questions, it was really great to have someone there who had previous experience. She was able to answer questions when I had them, and it was helpful to bounce ideas back and forth when challenges arose.

But back to filming. We’re getting things ready, and it’s basically like a little party of our own. A few popped balloons and confetti on the floor, but nothing serious. I had tried to organize a time for us (Me+3) to make posters, (wow, it’s the 21st now...) but it ended up only being me and 1 of the build and run crew (My design assistant had an excuse, but the other b&r just, never responded.) We’re setting up food, moving furniture, etc. Camera and sound come in about 30min after us, and Lighting a bit after that (lighting was late). We get finished, actors mic-ed, and whatnot. So we begin day 1 of shooting.

Things overall went well. We wrapped earlier than expected, and there are only a few notes.

Something that multiple people noticed, was that the Lighting Mentor did a thing where once we were rolling, she slept. At first in a chair next to the director, but also on the floor (blocking a door). I felt bad for tripping on her, but she had taken one of the pillows from our couch so, a little less bad. But she wasn’t even the most problematic.

Apparently, during both set up and shooting, the DP was eating food from the party table. The one that appears on camera and is in multiple shots. Now I’m no professional, but that seems like a bit of a no-no. Both for continuity and just rules in general. We didn’t have a lot of food laying around, but there was extras behind the scenes in case we needed it. And the fact that I wasn’t informed of it, is annoying. I found out after we wrapped that first day, because I was telling the crew not to be eating things because I didn’t know what we would be needing the next day. It made me feel really icky to tell them not to eat the stuff and hear “but the DP’s been doing it.” We’re all adults yes, but we’re still students, and I don’t know that I appreciate the example of professionalism we had from the DP (throughout the process).

Another thing about food. Since we were scheduled all day, the school provides “food”. 1 meal, and it’s from the caf. So not great, I’m not 100% aware of all the information, but what I do know is that not only was there no utensils, mixed up meals, but also not enough meals for everyone. So that’s an ick.

After “lunch”, we head back up to keep shooting, and in the group chat, we get a message from the Production Manager. She asks about the storage situation (Scenic/Props and Lighting stored their equipment in the theatre in between shows because it could be locked), and if we saw “if the trash was knocked over or the headshot board in dissarray?" I respond that when Props/Scenic left, things seemed okay. Which means that Lighting had done some damage going through to get their equipment. Nothing that couldn’t easily be fixed, but it just irks me that they wouldn’t try to clean up, and open an avenue for the theatre people/Company Manager to get upset with us.

But issues aside, we wrap day 1 one shooting, and the plan is for Props/Scenic to be back at 8 am the next day. We do so, and what do we get but a locked door. The building is not open and there is no security guard at the door. So we’re stuck outside till about 8:30, and it’s nice to be out of the cold. We get in, and start setting up, today is a lot lighter for us, as it’s the confessional scenes. We clear the room, block the door and set up our single chair. Lighting had already papered the windows the night before, so we should ready. Right? Wrong. The DP lost/forgot a cable, and needed to go get a replacement at the B&H 3 miles away that didn’t open until 9. So now we wait. 

One thing I should mention is that the school does this thing called “Practicum” where the onstage people take a few shifts to assist us backstage people (Generalizing ofc). Point is, they’re not any help, especially on a smaller project like this, there’s not always stuff for them to do. Maybe on a bigger show, but not this one. Day 1, none of them signed up for the 9am shift, so no extra hands to help set up. 4 people on the 12pm shift, so they’re really just sitting there.

But day 2, we have 1 person sign up for the 9am shift. Too bad that they show up after we’re done setting up, and we’re just playing a waiting game while we wait for the DP. While waiting, a bunch of us (Props/Scenic, Lighting, SM) are all sitting around. We talk about multiple topics, everyone is chilling. But at one point, the topic of knives come up. Multiple people in the group have them, mostly in multi-tool form, but some just regular pocket knifes. No matter. A little show-and-tell, no harm. But afterwards, the Practicum and Lighting Designer both still have theirs out. Not only that, they’re both constantly opening and closing the knives. Not a lot of regard for those around them, pointing them at other people, and just all around not being the most careful. At one point one of the SMs asks them to put it away, and they don’t. It takes for them to get bored before the knives go away.

This particular Practicum was only scheduled until 1pm, so after lunch, I figured that was the last we’d interact, even joking “goodbye forever!” (which is something I do regularly, no ill intent intended.) However, after wrapping, I planned to meet my friend L until they left at 6, when I would hang out with another friend, M. So I’m sitting around the elevators, talking with L when the Practicum passes us. We exchange pleasantries, and I figure that’s the end. But then she says she’s going to get food from the caf, and asks if she can join us. L says yes (no fault of their own, they’re just nice, and have no reason to say no.), and the Practicum goes off.

When they come back, they ask if we have instagram, and we exchange socials (ew. I don’t like doing that.) We’re talking for a bit when K (an underclassman and friend) and M show up. All of us are hanging out, when L has to leave. We all say goodbye and now I’m trying to find a way to leave the Practicum without being rude, and M and I already have plans. So I ask (specifically) M if we wanted to find another, more secluded room (as we are currently in a major passing area). She says yes. K is also planning to come along, as she has nothing else to do, so we all gather our belongings.

As we’re heading to the elevators about to leave and say goodbye, the Practicum follows us. It’s weird. But the 4 of us go up to a room on an upper floor, and we’re watching a competition show. It’s funny, the editing is tragic and we’re having a laugh. The editing reminds me a scene from another show, so I pull it up. It’s a weirdly high quality 1080p version of the scene, so we go to the channel page. It has 3 videos. We decide to watch all of them. And then it happens.

The Practicum gets a call. A factime more specifically, from her boyfriend. She takes the call in the room, no headphones. Weird, but quiet enough that the rest of us are still chilling. M recognizes some of the actors and we freak out, getting a bit loud. Not loud enough to bother other people on the floor, but loud enough to bother the Practicum. The Practicum- who mind you, is on a factime- who says “hey guys, can we keep it down? This is a huddle room, not a screaming room.” The audacity. The hell? Yes, the room is called a huddle room (a cutesy name to make the school appealing.), but first, we are huddled together around the computer, and second, if we’re being too loud, then leave. You’re the one who came here uninvited, and you’re the one on a phone call.

Apparently, when the Practicum and I both left the room, M and K were talking and the phrase “who even is that?” came up. Hilarious.

But back to the film. After the first Practicum left, there wasn’t much to do with the next batch except send them schlepping things back to where they belonged. Nice, less legwork for me. And thanks to the simplicity on what was needed the second day, we managed to wrap early, even with the starting delays. It definitely made the film crews of last semester “angry” at us (not really, they just had a bad experience, a 8 to 5. and not 5 pm, 5 am the next day). Overall, I think that things went very well, even with the multiple hoops we had to jump through.

[myfictionaldreams]

ello! saw your post and i wanna request a moon knight in which the reader is a female and she just graduated uni and the moon boys take turns in bed praising her like "our smart pretty girl", "so independent" of course if you are comfortable writing this have a good day/night :)

Praises // Moon Knight boys ☾ x fem!reader

A/N: Thank you for this request, I’ve been desperate to write something like this again! Also if anyone is at university or college, good luck with any exams/essays/results, I know how difficult it can be but trust me, it’s worth it in the end!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, anxiety, fluff, begging, sub steven, dom marc, dom jake, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral sex (f!recieving), creampie, pet names, shower sex, multiple sex positions, fingering, crying, praise kink, sir kink, daddy kink, aftercare, intense orgasms, pain/pleasure, bdsm, literally this is filthy lol, not beta read im sorry for mistakes

Word: 7.6k (oops)

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The hardwood floor creaked beneath your sock-covered feet as you paced back and forth across the flat you shared with the boys. You’d been at it since the moment you’d awakened that day, anxiety rippling through your body so drastically that pacing was the only action you could complete without the overwhelming feeling of throwing up or passing out.

It was the day you’d been waiting for years, results day. And for some unknown reason, the University had decided to release the results in the evening rather than midday which only caused you to overthink everything you had ever done whilst at uni. What if the results are out late because you failed? What if you have to waste another whole year resitting it? Shaking your head, you tried to let your mind go blank before you spiralled into a deep pit.

Steven watched you from his seat on the sofa, his own nerves bubbling in his stomach, hands wringing in his lap as he glanced at the clock for what felt like the 400th time that day. He desperately wanted you to get your results, he knew for sure that you’d passed but he absolutely hated seeing you this worked up.

Usually, Steven was always the one to be able to help best with your anxieties, compared to Jake and Marc. But today, he felt completely helpless as he watched you continue to pace the same path continuously for hours on end.

“Uh… Love, why don’t you have something to drink, you haven’t had anything all day”, Steven tried to reason with you, his voice trying to be soft and calm and would usually have you crawling into his lap but today, your mind couldn’t even process anything that he said.

Instead, your eyes remained glued to the screen of the laptop that was on the desk between you and Steven, so that he couldn’t see the screen. Your reasoning is that if you failed, you didn’t want him to read the words.

Steven shook his head as you continued to pace, briefly glancing at the mirror as Marc demanded that he make you drink. “I can’t force her to do anything mate” Steven mumbled in reply.

Marc rolled his eyes in announced in the mirror, not that you could see or hear his reply, “You know what Steven, maybe you should force her, it’s been nearly 20 hours since she’s had anything to eat or drink”.

“You do it then mate, I’m not having her hating me when she’s so stressed out-” BING.

Both you and Steven stopped immediately at the recognisable email notification noise. The air in the room suddenly felt thick and heavy as you slowly reached for the laptop, fingers shaking as you were one click away from finding out the much-anticipated results. Steven sat on the edge of the sofa, watching you closely to try and read any sort of expression that would give your results away.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you finally plucked up the courage to click on that all-important email.

You couldn’t breathe for a second, eyes becoming painful from the length of time that you’d gone without blinking until finally, you whispered, “I did it”.

Steven stood so quick his vision blurred as he shouted, “you did it?”

“I did it!” you screamed, reading the word congratulations over and over on the computer screen, the realisation finally set in as you sprinted around the table and jumped into Steven’s arms, causing you both to topple backwards onto the sofa, your legs straddling his body as he held you to him. Both of you were screaming and shouting with joy, you even briefly felt bad for the neighbours but you also didn’t care as happy tears slipped down your cheeks.

You weren’t sure when but the tears soon turned into sobs, all the years, countless nights not sleeping, the essays and exams had all been worth it for this moment. Steven held you close, catching every tear that escape your eyes, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“Oh my beautiful, smart girl” he praised, lips moving across your face until there wasn’t a patch of skin he hadn’t kissed as he continued to compliment you until finally, you stopped sobbing, instead smiling so much that your cheeks ached, which Steven was reciprocating with proud bright eyes.

“I can’t believe it,” you said in a rush, leaning your forehead against his whilst his hands settled against your waist, thumb rubbing small circles over your clothes.

“I never doubted you for a second, Love” Steven bragged, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek which you swiftly nuzzled into. Your boyfriend kissed your lips once more, twice, three times before you pressed harder, with all the eagerness that you could muster, knuckles aching with how tightly you were holding onto his shirt. His soft lips moved with yours, the taste of toast on the tip of your tongue as it slipped in, caressing his own.

Steven moaned, hands both now cupping the back of your head, keeping you close to him as you both became lost in one another's lips. It was only as your lungs burned for the need of air did you pull away, but only to tug on the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, your hips rolling down onto his crotch, already feeling this thickening cock, only separated from your cunt by a few layers of material.

Leaning forward, you were able to finally free him of the shirt, his warm beautiful skin flexing under your fingers as they danced along the skin, needing to feel every part of him as those wondrous lips of his travelled down your throat, leaving delicate kisses that had your body shivering in response. “My smart girl, my beautiful smart girl” he mumbled, and you mewled with each praise, loving when Steven was so appreciative of you, which he usually was.

It was only as you reached down to undo his jeans were you stopped by his hands enveloping yours, halting your actions. A frown set across your features as Steven sat back on the sofa so you were able to look at his face.

“Sorry Darlin’, Marc he- he keeps shouting at me and it’s only getting worse. I promise we can continue this but I really need you to drink something”.

You sat back against his knees, hands raising to Steven’s cheeks, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone as you knew the next words would probably get you in trouble but you didn’t care, Marc was ruining a perfectly good moment. “Well… fuck Marc, I’m busy”.

Steven’s head tipped back as he laughed, his eyes creasing as his hands returned to the back of your head, pulling you forward, “oh I’m sure you’ll be paying for that one later”. His lips moulded with yours once more, both of you moaning at the contact, his scents were filling your senses as you turned your head, causing the kiss to go deeper, his tongue flicking out and dancing with your own.

Steven was very good at distractions so you weren’t expecting for him to flip your position so now you were the one on the sofa, lying down with him hovering over you. It was now your turn to be undressed and he moved with delicate touches, making sure to lightly touch your skin as he removed each article of clothing leaving goosebumps across your body.

In between your legs was throbbing uncontrollably, your panties visibly wet as he pulled them down your legs and discarded them across the room. You needed him, you needed him now.

Reaching up to try and pull him down, you whined as he moved out of your reach, his lips kissing the tips of your fingers as he smiled down at you, “Shh my clever girl, let me take care of you”. You didn’t respond, not sure you could even form a proper word as arousal turned your brain to fuzz. Particularly as you lay there and watched the half-naked Steven move lower, hands now on the back of your thighs pushing up until you were completely exposed to him, the cool air causing your sweet cunt to clench around nothing.

He didn’t break eye contact, as he lowered his face, tongue out until finally, he licked the length of your core, savouring the unique taste that was only you. Both of you moaned deeply, his movements were slow, calculated like they always were. Steven was a passionate lover, more submissive than the other two but that mean that all he wanted to do was pleasure you, never caring if he came, only caring that you were taken care of.

His talented tongue moved up your slit, reaching your throbbing bean, circling it slowly, adding the slightest bit of pressure, making sure to really build up your already heightened arousal. At the same time, his long fingers moved to your entrance, circling it in the same manner as his tongue and slowly, you watched him slip one finger in, your mouth hung open, a constant stream of moans leaving it, only spurring Steven on.

The man didn’t do anything special with his fingers, for now, that was for later, instead, he simply felt the velvety warm walls, stretching you enough to slip in a second finger, rocking them both in and out as a single dark curl fell onto his forehead. Your hand reached out, sliding through his hair, not being rough, you could never be rough with Steven but simply scratching his scalp, silently telling him that he was doing good, perfect in fact.

Steven watched you for a few moments, continuing his slow actions, knowing that he was going to make you cum in the next minute but wanting to have the image of you moaning, glossy-eyed and desperate, engraved into his brain.

Removing his mouth from your centre, he beamed, “I’m so proud of you”. Steven's lips then seal around your clit, sucking it into his mouth whilst at the same time starting to curl his fingers, pumping his hand and the tingling sensation rushed over you before you could fully process his words. Releasing your clit, his tongue swiped across with firm pressure whilst his fingers didn’t stop the movements, Steven became aware that his chin and neck were becoming wet as you squirted over him, eyes rolling back, the hand in his hair moving to the sofa so you didn’t pull out his hair, needing to grip something as your core tightened violently until finally, you came.

Your cunt convulsed around his fingers, your body spasming as Steven’s fingers slowed until eventually, he pulled them out, his tongue licking up every drip of your juices. He smiled down at you, cheeks flushed as he could see the happy smile spread across your face, “I need you, Steven”.

“You can have me Love, but not here, you deserve the bed, not the sofa, come on”, tugging on your hand, he helped you up, chuckling at the slight wobbling of your legs but the distance to the bed wasn’t long and you were soon pushing him into the middle, crawling up until you were straddling his lap. Once again, however, Steven switched your positions, shaking his head as he smiled mischievously down at you. “How ever will I treat my ever so clever girl, passing her degree all by herself”.

“Steven please”, he never usually had you begging like this, that was more Jake's job but Steven couldn’t help himself today, he wanted you to feel amazing. Reaching up, you gripped his hair, pulling his face down so you could hungrily kiss him, tongues clashing together, teeth nipping on lips.

The man hovering over you reached between your bodies, fumbling to undo his jeans with shaky hands, his cock almost painful with how hard he was, he relieved sigh escaped his lips that were still attached to yours as his member was finally freed. You noticed his reaction and instantly reached for him, tossing him off a few times, enjoying the way he bucked his hips with your movements, before angling it towards your entrance, not even giving him time to fully take off the remainder of his clothes.

You both groaned deeply as he finally slide his thick hard cock into your quivering hole, your arousal enough to be a natural lube as he easily filled you inch after inch until finally you were both slotted together.

Sex with Steven was never the same as with Marc or Jake. It was never rushed, aggressive or filled with fancy sex positions. No, it was always sensual, and passionate and he knew your body better than your own but he was always modest about it, simply smiling down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. Obviously Marc and Jake thought the same but sex with them was just…different, you loved them all equally especially as they were all so unique.

Your back arched up as Steven started to pull out, his thrusts were long and deep, and his hands were interlocked with your own, held above your head whilst his lips travelled down the length of your throat. Every drag of his hips had you clinging harder to him, as he built up your pleasure until he had to cuming just as hard as the first time, your cunt clenching hard around him that he too came, your name spilt from his lips in desperation, arms wobbling to keep himself up as he stilled within.

After a few moments of trying to catch your breaths, he rolled off of you, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek as both of you smiled at each other like idiots in love. Closing your eyes, you savoured the after-sex glow, listening to each other breath.

“You know… you really do need to eat something Poppet. How about we go to dinner? Celebrate the great news, have a few drinks?”

“I would love that very much, Mr Grant. Let me just have a quick shower”, you lean up to kiss him, standing and doing the awkward run to the bathroom, hands between your legs to stop any of his cum from dripping onto the floor.

Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water spill over your body, relaxing your muscles. The reality of passing university brushed over your thoughts again as you did a happy dance in the shower, quickly before washing your body.

You’d become so lost in your happy little thoughts that you didn’t hear the other person enter the bathroom, not until a warm solid body collided with your back. Smiling to yourself, you leaned into the warmth, feeling the already hardening cock against your lower back. “Ready for another round are you, my love?” you asked innocently.

As you made to turn around, a muscular arm circled around your front, gripping your jaw in a strong grip so you were now held firmly in place. Definitely not Steven.

The hand holding your jaw pushed upwards, tipping your head back so that the shower sprayed across your face, lips moved to your ears, tickling and teasing as a low voice murmured, “Fuck Marc? Did I hear you correctly?”

You knew he could feel the pounding of your heart as he held your jaw, his teeth nipping your ear as you rubbed your thighs together, cunt clenching in anticipation, you didn’t date speak. It was always the game of cat and mouse when it came to Marc and your relationship but in the end, Marc always was the winner.

“All you needed to do…was to have one drink of water, just one”. You were hyperaware of every single movement that he made as he raised his spare hand to rest lightly against your naked hip, keeping you close to him.

“Well we were slightly distracted…sir”, you added the name for good measure, not wanting to annoy him any further.

His lips turned up slightly at your words but he didn’t say anything for a few minutes, leaving the anticipation thick in the air until at least, he squeezed your jaw, demanding you open. Immediately you opened your mouth wide, the water from the shower dribbling out and down your chin.

“Drink.”

You drank the water as it poured down from the shower, gulping the water thirstily.

“Good girl”, he whispered, feeling every time you swallowed whilst he continued to hold your jaw. His words sent shivers up your spine, causing it to rub harder against his cock that throbbed against you.

As your gulps started to slow down and Marc was happy with your water intake, he spun you around, pressing your back against the cool tiles, hand still holding onto your jaw, the other now leaning against the wall above you. Reaching down to your height, his back now had the shower beating against it so you weren’t being sprayed anymore.

Slowly, you raised your eyes from the floor, up his body to his dark beautiful eyes. Even though he shared the same body as Steven and Jake, he still looked different, you weren’t sure whether it was the hardening of the gaze in his eyes or the beautiful smirk that he held on his lips but either way, it brought a sly smile to your own mouth, having not seen him for a week.

“I hear congratulations are in order, you beautiful intelligent girl.” Pride and love bloomed in your chest.

“Thank you, sir”. So distracted by his handsome face, you didn’t notice the hand he had used to lean against the wall, slip down until his calloused fingertip started rubbing against your eagerly awaiting clit, causing you to cry out.

“I’m so proud of you, baby girl”.

“Tha-thank you, sir. I couldn’t have done it without you-ah!” Marc had slipped two fingers into your centre, his thumb now rubbing slow methodical circles against your bundle of nerves, your hips began moving with the action instantly. He watched you closely, his eyes devouring your every move.

Marc didn’t quicken his pace as he continued talking, the two fingers within you moving in and out steadily, “Now, I think my baby girl deserves a reward, what do you say?” You could only nod, moaning at his clever hands. “You’ve done so amazingly over these last few years. I want to pleasure you until you can’t walk and then we’ll order some food, no need to leave this place when I’ve got to make you feel good, baby.”

The mere thought of what he had planned had your core tightening, the tingles already spreading down your thighs as you breathed out, “I’m close, sir.”

“You want to cum for daddy?”

“Yes please, daddy”. His fingers moved quicker, bending at the perfect angle as his mouth dropped to suck one of your erect nipples, your hands instantly moving to hold onto his wrist that still held your jaw.

“Then cum for me, baby”. You did. Hard. The wind was knocked out of you as your knees wobbled, nails digging into his skin as your pussy contracted around his fingers.

Releasing your nipple with a pop, Marc moved quickly, turning you around, not giving you time to process what was happening as you found your face pushed against the shower wall. The water then stopped spraying the two of your as he turned it off, pulling your hips backwards leaving you slightly bent over.

Your boyfriend then proceeded to lick your cunt dry, you twitch at the oversensitiveness, automatically moving away from his warm tongue as it lapped over your swollen bud. “Shh, it’s ok Sweetheart”, he kisses both of your arse cheeks, “no more clit play unless you ask”.

Sighing in slight relief, you wiggled your hips as he stood to his full height. Glancing over your shoulder, you moaned, “mmm, want your cock sir”.

“Ok baby girl”, he was penetrating you a second later, your sensitive walls already clenching around him. Having already been fucked by Steven already today, you didn’t need time to adjust and Marc knew that as he started a quick, hard and thorough pace, his hand tugging on your hair so your neck ached at the odd angle, the sounds of your bodies slapping together like music to his ears. “My good girl, my very clever pretty girl”.

You were grunting with each thrust, trying your best to not cum already, it had only been two minutes but you were so sensitive from the previous activities. “I…I already need to cum sir, I don’t think I can hold it, I’m sorry”.

“That’s ok baby, cum for me, that’s it”, your knees buckled as you came, your insides felt like they were on fire as every nerve poured with pleasure, it took you a second to realise that Marc had his arm around your middle stopping you from collapsing to the floor. Easing out of you, he helped you out of the shower after you had found your footing, you stepped out, holding his hand but soon were leaning up to heavily kiss him, realising that you hadn’t even kissed him since he began fronting.

You could feel yourself becoming needier the more feverish the kiss became, enough so that your hand slipped down to grip Marc’s still incredibly hard cock, trying to please him but his hand caught your wrist stopping your movements. Breaking the kiss, Marc looked into your eyes, smirking slightly at your bratty whine.

“Do you want to stop? I need to hear your words?”

“I want you to cum in my pussy, please don’t stop sir” you desperately replied.

Marc didn’t need to be told twice as you found yourself being manhandled by him once more, as he pushed you over the sink, thrusting into your core, pulling on your hair like he had in the shower but now you were faced with the bathroom mirror so you could watch Marc pounded into you.

Leaning over until his lips were next to your ear, with each pound of his hips, Marc praised you, much like how Steven did, about how you were such a smart girl, you’ve done so well, his little university graduate. Your cunt clenched with his words, feeling both fucked out of your mind and proud of yourself at the same moment was hard to comprehend but he made you feel so special. Marc was always a soft dom, he would praise you no matter what, even in your brattiest of moments, but he just loved looking after his baby girl, not like Jake, he liked to handle those moments in different styles, not that you would ever want to be bratty with Jake.

Marc’s other hand which had been holding on to your hips with a fierce grip, moved to your torso, fondling your tits, squeezing the soft flesh, as his lips sucked into the side of your neck lightly. You tried to speak to tell him you were going to cum but the only noises to leave you were heavy moans Marc could tell you were getting close by the fluttering that your cunt was doing around his cock, he had been trying to hold off for a while, seeing you bent over in the shower nearly had him spurting his seed over your back but he held out for as long as he could to see just how much you could handle.

“That’s it, baby, cum with me, well done, good girl”, your core felt impossibly tight as finally, your orgasm rippled through your body. Marc was thankful that you were over the sink, his own orgasm making his knees wobble slightly so that he had to hold onto the side next to your hips to keep himself up as he shouted your name out.

He kissed a line up your back as you tried to catch your breath, his cock slipping out of you followed by his hot seed dripping out and onto the floor. He then spent a few quiet moments cleaning you up, wiping away his cum as softly as he could, apologising every time you flinched before finally asking if you thought you could walk, to which you promptly shook your head no. It didn’t go unnoticed by you the large smirk that he had on his face at hearing that his plan worked.

Your handsome boyfriend eased your body into his arms, your head laying on his shoulder as he supported your legs and back, carrying you back into the main area of the flat and onto the bed, neither of you particularly caring that you were still damp from the shower. Sighing in relief at finally being on a soft surface, Marc wrapped a spare blanket over your cold body, kissing your hairline delicately.

“I’ll be back in a moment sweetheart, I’ll order us some food, my smart girl”.

You must have fallen asleep because, by the time you had woken up, the smell of food was filling the apartment, your stomach making a loud growl at the realisation that food was here. Sitting up in bed, you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, groaning at the ache in your muscle from the evening's activities. The food smelt amazing however so ignoring the pain, you climbed out of bed, keeping the blanket around your naked body and glanced across the room into the kitchen, expecting to see Marc unboxing whatever food he had decided upon ordering but instead, he was hunched over the stove, cooking something.

Frowning you tried to clear the fog in your head to make sense of it. Marc couldn’t cook anything except toast (only on a good day), there was no way he’d be able to cook whatever you were smelling right now, and as for Steven, you’d be lucky to get a plain slide of bread without it being wrong in some kind of way. So it wasn’t Marc and it definitely wasn’t Steven that you were watching cook.

It was an almost immediate reaction, your whole body felt warm and safe. It wasn’t that Marc and Steve didn’t make you feel safe, of course, they did but with Jake, his unhinged personality meant that he would do anything and everything to keep you safe, it was a different type of protection compared to the other two. It was also not very often that you get to see all three alters in one day.

Biting your lip in anticipation, you stepped forward, “Papi?” His head flicked towards you immediately, moving the food off the heat so he could approach you.

His footsteps were heavy as he walked closer, his arms out, ready for your next move which was to drop the blanket and jump into his arms, legs circling his waist and arms holding tightly to his shoulders as his strong arms held onto your naked body. 

“Mi Amor” he mumbled against your neck, kissing the skin lightly as he held you close. You hadn’t seen Jake in weeks, particularly with all the stress that you had been through with the ending of university, he hated seeing you anxious. Unless there was someone else to hurt if they had caused the anxiety, he usually stayed away, hating to see love upset, it slowly sends him into an unbalanced state that no one particularly needed to deal with.

“I’ve missed you”, pulling away from his shoulder, you looked into his brown eyes that looked nearly black whenever Jake was fronting.

“I missed you too, cariño,” his voice was deep and laced with his beautiful Spanish accent that made your heart flutter. “My beautiful, intelligent girl”. Your cheeks warmed due to his compliments as he lowered you back to the floor, his hands cupping the sides of your head, tilting your face up to his so he could kiss your forehead tenderly, then lower to your lips. You wanted desperately to whine at the loss of contact but you didn’t want to ruin this calm Jake that you had not seen in a while, recently whenever he had fronted, it would be after a mission with Konshu and he would have a lot of pent up frustration and tension, leading to hours of you begging for him to allow you to cum, so seeing him calm wasn’t something you were used too.

Kissing your forehead one more time, he nodded in the direction of the table that still had your laptop on from earlier with the best email you had ever received. “Go and take a seat, the food is nearly ready, and take this, you’ll catch a cold, mi amor”, Jake then proceeded to remove his shirt, handing the warm material to you. Quickly pulling it over your head, you took a second to openly ogle at his body, even though you knew his body like the back of your hand, it still managed to get you all hot and bothered.

Jake chuckled deeply to himself, a single finger pushed under your chin, lifting your eyes from his chest up to his eyes, “later mi amor, now, go and take a seat”. You did as instructed, trying to ignore the evidence of arousal that was moistening your core, his shirt the only thing covering up the glistening wet that was slowly spreading over your thighs as you took a seat and tried not to move too much otherwise he would hear the squeak of your wet cunt against the leather chair.

He joined you soon after at the table, carrying two plates filled with delicious food that had your mouth watering, Jake was such a fantastic cook. As you moved to pick up a fork, Jake swatted your hand away lightly, “allow me” he demanded softly so you sat, hands clutching the edge of his shirt whilst he fed you.

He was able to feed both you and himself and with every bite you held strong eye contact with him, thanking him for every drop of food that you swallowed until he was scraping his and your plate clean. Pushing them to the other side of the table, he sat back in his chair, legs spread as he looked your head to two, making you squirm at the intense stare.

“Just taking the opportunities whilst I can”. You frowned at his words, not quite understanding what he meant.

“What opportunities?”

“To do things for you, there won't be much opportunity as you won’t need me for much longer now will you.”

The room suddenly felt small and suffocating as your throat closed shut, it felt like your world was crumbling.

“What?” was all you could whisper, barely audible as you tried not to cry, watching as Jake sat forward in his seat, forearms leaning against the table.

“Well now, you’re a big independent girl, you’ve passed your university degree, what else would you need me for, right?” You realised now that he was joking but you still felt on edge. “I mean, my smart Princesa, you’ve done this all by yourself, you won’t need me anymore”.

“I’ll… I’ll always need you Jake”, he gave you a pointed look so you quickly corrected yourself, “Papi, I’ll always need you”.

He didn’t respond immediately, still taking his time looking up and down your body until it looked like he had decided upon something. Lifting to fingers, he bent them, signalling for you to come to him which you did without needing to be told twice. Jake sat back in the chair, opening his arms for you to sit comfortably in his lap but before you fully sat, he twirled with his hand so you turned your back to him, sitting down in his lap, your head leaning back against his shoulder.

“Now I want you to do something for me, look at that right there” he pointed to the seat you were just in. At first, you looked on, confused about what exactly you were supposed to be looking at but then you spotted it and your cheeks burned hot. On the leather seat, the evidence of your juicy cunt hadn’t dried, even though you had tried not to drip onto the seat.

“Did my amigos not take good enough care of you today Princesa?” You were so embarrassed, it wasn’t normal for your body to still be craving someone's touch when you’d already been pounded multiple times and orgasmed multiple times, yet here you were, nipples peaked, clit throbbing uncomfortably, internally begging that he would touch you.

“Well? Did they?”

“The-they did Papi, I just..always want you, I’ve missed you so much-” your words were cut off as his large hand encircled around your throat squeezing slightly. The other hand moved to ease each of your thighs on either side of his so once he spread his legs further, your legs widened, causing the shirt you were wearing to rise, exposing your wet, marginally swollen cunt to him.

Your breathing quickened as you watched his hand move towards the area you wanted him to touch so desperately. Jake noticed your breathing and not wanting to overwhelm you, shifted the hand up your neck until his index finger could slip into your mouth. Almost instantly you were sucking on it, the action helping to distract and calm you, the muscles all over your body relaxing as you melted back into his hard body.

Your body still jolted however as he rubbed two fingers up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal before lifting them in front of both of your faces, displaying it. “See, this would say otherwise” he then lifted the fingers to his mouth, sucking them, moaning at the taste before lowering it, testing to see just how much you could take with him. First, he tried to circle your clit with his finger but you hissed at the touch, almost biting down on his finger in your mouth, before he moved lower to your cunt, pushing in slowly and you could feel how oversensitive your walls were and how you were slightly swollen from the action you’d received earlier as his one finger felt like the same thickness as his cock at that moment. 

Jake didn’t say anything at first, simply humming as he removed his digit, once again licking it clean before kissing the side of your head, his favourite way to show that you were safe with him and that he’d look after you.

“Now, how am I going to praise you for doing such incredible work with finishing university if you can hardly even take my finger, mi amor.” You huffed in frustration, the building tension was becoming nearly unbearable, even though it was uncomfortable, the pleasure was slowly starting to outweigh the pain. Sex with Jake was usually quite rough anyway so it was nothing that you hadn’t dealt with before.

“I can take it” you mumbled around his finger, reaching across to his other hand, trying to drag it back to your sopping cunt but he kept it still, not giving in to your demands. Instead, he stood, pulling you up with him, arm around your waist as he walked you to the bed, hand tugging on the shirt you worse until your arms shot up, allowing him to pull it off of you, before pushing on your chest so that you collapsed into the centre of the bed.

Looking up at him, you tried not to show how much he intimate you as he began to take off the remainder of his clothes and then crawled to join you, the evidence of his own excitement standing proud in between his legs until he was lying next to you.

“Turn over” he instructed, which you swiftly followed, lying on your side with your back to him, the warmth of his chest had you nuzzling back as his lips delicately kissed your bare shoulder. “You still think you can take me?” he asked, lifting up your leg and resting it onto of his, the feeling of his cock prodding at your inner thigh had you whimpering for more.

“Yes Papi, I can take it”, his only response to your words were him pinching your nipple harshly, tugging it away from your body and then letting it snap back as he released it. Your hips moved at the sensation, the pleasure once again pooling in your cunt entrance. “Need you…”

“You need me? But I thought you were a smart independent girl who doesn’t need me anymore?” you teased, his teeth now grazing your neck, hard enough that you were sure there would be indents in your skin. You could feel yourself feeling more and more subby as the seconds ticked by, your brain fuzzy with the need to be stimulated and Jake once again just laughed at how desperate you were becoming, he always loved to tease and push you to your limits.

Knowing that you’d start crying soon if he didn’t fuck you, he shifted his hips up, his tip finally pushing into your warm, wet folds, finding your aching hole and penetrating within. The sensation took your breath away, you felt so tight even Jake had to stop for a moment as he slide all the way in, otherwise, he would have cum before it had even begun.

His fingers still played with your nipples but as he started to pull out, he moved to grip your throat, the pressure was welcoming, not enough to fully cut off oxygen completely, but enough that you had to concentrate on how you breathed. Lifting your own hands, you gripped onto his wrist, much as you had with Marc.

This position felt intimate, he felt like he was all over you as he cursed in Spanish, his lips right next to your ear as he pushed his cock back into you, it being slightly easier than the first time. You’d never felt this overstimulated before, the mixture of pain and pleasure was blissful and you were worried that you were already only on the verge of cuming with all of the teasings that he’d done.

His pace was unusually slow, but you were thankful, not wanting to have too much stimulation at once but suddenly he snapped his hips up harshly, his cock fucking straight into your g-spot, your cunt clenching like a vice as the recognisable sensation of tightening in your core already overwhelmed you.

“Wait- wait I’m going to cum Papi, wait-” his thrusts didn’t stop, they were still slow but were harsh and you felt the rumble of his chest on your back as he growled in your ear.

“Then cum, mi Amor, cum my clever Princesa”. Your vision nearly turned blank as you hadn’t expected him to give you permission, it was almost an instant reaction as you came, the throbbing contractions fluttering around his cock as your nails dug into his wrist harshly, unable to mentally process what had even happened for a few seconds.

Jake had stopped moving to give you time to recover, another thing that he never usually did, sensing your confusion, he nipped your ear and murmured, “don’t expect this to be a regular occurrence, I’m only being nice because of how proud I am of you today. Do you need to use your safe words?”

You wanted to shake your head, thinking you couldn’t possibly talk but you knew he would get angry if you didn’t use your words so as he removed his hand from your throat you smiled, mumbling, “green Papi”.

Jake pulled his cock out of you, rolling you onto your front and pulling up your hips until you were on your knees, your face laid out on the bed, you were too lazy to try and push yourself up but this was the exact position that Jake wanted you in as he reached forward, pulling each of your arms until he held them behind your back, your neck now straining for the lack of support but any thought of discomfort flew out of the window as he fucked back into you.

You screamed out, not caring who heard as the bed started to shake against Steven’s book cake, Jake wasn’t holding back now. He grunted with each stroke, your cunt gripping him tightly like a glove as he watched himself disappear inside of you. The grip on your hands allowed him to pull you back onto his cock as you repeatedly moaned out Papi.

After all the pleasure you’d had all day, you didn’t think it was possible for you to cum again, having lost count of how many orgasms you’d even had that day but sure enough, as Jake moved to kneel on one knee behind you, the change in movements causing his cock to tip up the slightest bit, he now was just pounding into your poor sensitive g-spot. 

“Ah- Papi, I need…to…cum” you shouted, eyes rolling back at the overwhelming sensations, not even listening to whether you had permission or not as euphoria rushed through every inch of your body once more, your toes curling, small drips of squirt dripping onto the sheets below. Jake pulled out, letting go of your arms and you all but collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, body shaking from the day's events. 

“See, this is why I make you wait to cum, you’ll just tire yourself out if I let you cum whenever you want, for a smart girl you really are dumb sometimes.” Jake teased, satisfied with how thoroughly fucked you looked.

Glancing over your shoulder tiredly, you looked at his still-hard cock, then up to his beautiful face. “I still want you to cum in me, Papi.”

Jake bit his lip, contemplating your words, hand brushing down your spine, “you know… any other day I would be already fucking you into the mattress but I think you’ve had enough today”.

You frowned at his words, having never heard him actually say no to fucking you before, usually he would continue until you were crying with being overstimulated or floating in subspace. “But..but I can take it, I promise Papi” you tried to wiggle your arse to show him you were still up for it but your whole body felt like jelly so it didn’t move much. “Please!”

Jake glanced away for a moment like he was thinking through the consequences if he continued to stop until finally, he looked back, gripping your cheeks to show the seriousness of his words. “If you started to feel only pain and no pleasure, you tell me immediately do you understand?” he was using his dom tone of voice, one that you wanted to cower away from but instead you simply responded with a simple “yes”.

“Good. And the next time you cum, it will be the final time, as much as I love feeling your beautiful cunt pulsing around my dick, I already know you’re going to be feeling a bit spacey with the next one so we will be stopping and doing aftercare, whether I’ve cum or not, do you understand mi amor?”

“Yes, Papi.” Swallowing harshly at his seriousness, you also could feel the anticipation for him filling you back up again, even though everything felt overly sensitive, you couldn’t wait, the only issue was that your legs were so weak you could kneel back into position so Jake helped you to lift your hips and slide a pillow beneath you, helping your cunt to arch up but still being comfortable for you.

He straddled your legs, hands clenching your arse cheeks, prying them apart so he could look at your core, whispering about its beauty before finally he inched his veiny thick cock back inside of you. All the energy in your body had disappeared so that you couldn’t even grip the sheets, only instead being able to moan out his name repeatedly, as his hips snapped into yours.

This position also allowed him to hit deeper spots inside your cunt, each movement was like a spark of pure pleasure that had you on a constant high. Jake moaned at the sight beneath him, knowing that he was close, he picked up the pace, knowing it needed to be now or never as your eyebrows bunched together, mouth opening in a silent O, just a few more deep, heavy thrusts and his milky cum was coating your walls, just as you also shivered and clenched around him in orgasm but this one was different.

Through the multitude that you’d had that day, all your energy was burnt so you simply shivered and dribbled into the sheets, Jake even though for a moment you’d passed out but you still responded when he called out your name.

Not that you were aware of it, but Jake moved off of the bed, returning only once he had two wash clothes in his hand, one to clean you up with, which you didn’t even flinch at, whilst the other he simply placed it over your cunt as something to ease the pain and swelling.

Finally, he pulled on some underwear, picked up the discarded blanket from the table and moved back into bed, shifting your dead weight up until he was beneath you, your body lying over his chest as he covered you both with the blanket.

Stroking back the sweaty hair out of your face, Jake kissed your forehead one last time for that night, whispering, “well done my clever girl.”

[reidscanehand]

It Would Take a Lifetime

Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

Category: Fluff

TW:....cursing, alcohol is provided for adults, sexual attraction 

Hello! Just a quick note: this is set in season 5 or 6 before all the Ian Doyle and Maeve stuff. Also, I definitely tweaked the request this was based on a little bit. Anyway, I was going to take a couple of days off and I still plan on doing that, but I got this anonymous request: hi!! i’d like to request (idk if you’re taking any if not i’m sorry, don’t wanna bother) but today is my birthday and i love ur writing so much so could you maybe write something where the bau has a small celebration for readers bday and she and reid are just so in love... anyways tysm ily and it’s because it’s their birthday, it felt time sensitive! It’s 5pm my time, so I hope this is out on your birthday and that you have had a wonderful day! Enjoy xx 

~ “Birthdays are notches on an infinite timeline.” - Jessica Khoury ~

Spencer Reid doesn’t forget. The gift of his eidetic memory means that, even he tries, it’s really difficult to forget things. There are some things he longs to forget: his father leaving him and his mother, being tortured by Tobias Hankel, Gideon leaving, shooting Phillip Dowd, the many, many dead victims’ faces he’s seen since he started working with the BAU, the thousands of facts he knows about serial killers, paraphilia, and statistics surrounding death...the list goes on and on. But there are things that Spencer is beyond thrilled to be able to remember.

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget the moment he met you. How nervous you looked on your first day, even though you had absolutely no need to be. How when you entered the bullpen, he realized that, in his email regarding you joining the team, Hotch had failed to mention how stunningly gorgeous you are. How he’d suddenly decided that not only did he not mind shaking your hand, but he rather desperately wanted to. How soft and warm your hand had been.  

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget your smile. How, on your first case, Hotch had congratulated you on a job well done and the warmth of your smile had practically radiated from you. How you smile at everyone as you enter the bullpen, no matter how grueling the morning has been. How you always smile at Spencer like he’s worthy of something, more worthy than he’s ever been.  

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget your laugh, even though, in this line of work he rarely gets to hear it. How no music he’s ever heard can compare to how uplifting your laughter is. How you’ll try to hide it for a moment, scrunching your nose as you allow your lips to land in a small smile. How that never works and you end up laughing, and it’s always worth it.

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget the moment he felt his general kind regard for you blossom into something far more tender and wonderful. How on the jet home from a particularly hard case you’d seemingly been the only one to notice how hard he was taking it. How you’d come to sit with him and asked him about a book series he’d mentioned a few days before. How you seemed to instinctively know that he didn’t want to talk about the case, but he didn’t want or need to be alone in that moment. How, as the two of you exited the jet, you’d quietly asked if you could give him a hug. How warm and precious you’d felt in his embrace. How wonderful you smelled and how you tucked your head into his chest like you belonged there. 

He’s not thrilled that he will never be able to forget how very much he likes you. How he can’t seem to get together the nerve to ask you out. 

He’s initially thrilled by the fact that he’s remembered it’s your birthday, but as the day has gone on, he’s come to rather hate the fact. Well, not to hate it, exactly, but he’s very unsure of what to do about it. Because you haven’t brought it up, either. He finds the fact that he’s the only one that’s recalled your birthday, including, apparently you, to be rather disturbing. Sure, you’re still kind of new to the team, but it’s your birthday. He knows they’ve all seen your file or, at the very least your I.D. (both your FBI and your driver’s license as, despite being perfectly legal, you get asked to present it every single time the team goes out for drinks). And he knows that, obviously, not everyone has an eidetic memory. And he knows that this case hasn’t been easy...but it’s a little ridiculous. Spencer finds the idea of not celebrating the day you were born - the day some power decided to grant the gift of you into the universe - absolutely repulsive. 

However, he also wonders if he’s maybe...misread this? Maybe you want your birthday to be overlooked. The case is over, way earlier than the team thought it would be - a strange benefit of chasing a serial killer who went after the member’s of his ex-lover’s early morning yoga class is, apparently, finishing a case before noon - and they’ve returned to the hotel for the rest of the day. The jet can’t leave until the next morning, so it’s given the team a rare evening off, though this small town in Indiana isn’t exactly filled to the brim with exciting things to do at this time of year. The two of you are walking to your separate hotel rooms, which sit across from each other at the end of a long hallway and, as far as he can tell, the most pressing issue on your mind right now is taking a nap. Which he fully understands as no one on the team has gotten a full night’s sleep in the four nights you’ve been here. Spencer, himself, is absolutely exhausted, but still... You haven’t brought up your birthday. Maybe you hate it. Maybe you have some traumatic memories attached to this day. Maybe.... 

“So, is this nap going to fuck up my body’s internal clock?” you ask, interrupting his train of thought. Spencer swallows, intent on ignoring his initial reaction to you bringing up anything to do with your body. 

“At this point I’d say a side effect of working with the BAU is the demolition of any natural sleep patterns,” he replies. To his utter delight you giggle sweetly at him, causing a grin to tug at his mouth. You open your mouth to say something else when your phone rings. 

“Oh, excuse me,” you mumble, pulling your phone out. You pause in the hallway and Spencer finds himself waiting for you, even though you didn’t ask him to, nor did your slight conversation necessitate it. “Hey, Garcia, what’s-”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?” Garcia’s voice bellows over the phone, loud enough that Spencer can hear it. Your eyes go wide with embarrassment and you turn slightly away from Spencer. 

“Oh, Pen, I just didn’t really-”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!” Garcia cuts you off again. You groan a little bit and Spencer bites back a small chuckle. He’s quickly reminded of the fact that he’ll never be able to forget how adorable you are, either. 

“Oh God,” Penelope cries, “do you not celebrate your birthday or something? I didn’t mean to pry, I just noticed it in your file while I was entering the case data into my system and-”

“Pen, I didn’t want to bother anybody with it.” It was your turn to interrupt Garcia with a huge sigh. “We’re on a case, or, we were, I guess, but it just seemed...I mean I’m still kind of new here, and it’s not a big deal-”

“It’s a HUGE deal!” Garcia exclaims.

“It’s really okay, Garcia,” you reiterate, “if anything, I have the rest of the afternoon off to catch up on sleep.” Spencer can hear the enormous, emphatic sigh from Garcia over the phone. 

“Fine,” she grumbles, “at least buy yourself a slice of cake or something.” You giggle at her defeat and Spencer can’t help but smile again. 

“I will, Pen,” you affirm. “And, hey, thank you for calling me, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, babe,” she sighs again. “You shouldn’t be scared to mention it to the team, though; I’m sure Spencer knows it’s your birthday.” Your eyes meet his and Spencer feels the immense heat of his blush trickling up his neck. 

“I’ll be sure to ask him,” you laugh. Penelope wishes you a happy birthday again before hanging up and you once again meet Spencer’s eyes. 

“So,” you begin, awkwardly. “Did you know today’s my birthday?”

“Actually,” he admits, his anxiety rambling out the words faster than he can control them, “I did. But, you didn’t say anything...I just thought you might be embarrassed because you thought we didn’t know or we forgot or...and th-then I thought maybe you didn’t celebrate it, or something dramatic happened and you hate it now....I-I didn’t want to assume anything, but I did know about it, I promise! I would never forget - I mean, I can’t really forget stuff, but I would never-” 

“Spencer,” you interrupt him, your hands clamping over his shoulders, an action that, without much impact, still manages to knock the wind out of Spencer with its mild intimacy. You fix your eyes on his, speaking slowly and calmly, “It’s really okay. I didn’t think we’d celebrate my birthday. I’m not offended at all. It’s sweet that you remembered and thought through the implications of me potentially not celebrating it, but, it’s really fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Spencer replies, cringing inwardly at the slight whine of his voice. “It’s not fine; you deserve to be celebrated, Y/N.” 

“That’s very sweet of you, Spencer, but I-”

“Let me take you to dinner,” he gasps, trying to force back the unerring blush that’s radiating in his cheeks. Your eyes widen and you pull your hands back from his shoulders, a little shocked. 

“Sorry,” Spencer corrects himself, “I’m-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean to...demand t-that of you, but, um, would you allow me to take you to dinner tonight? To celebrate your birthday?”

Of all the moments he’s thrilled to be able to remember, this moment right here will be organized among his very favorite of all. You look down for a moment, biting your lip gently as your mouth teases into a smile. You meet his eyes again with the most gorgeous grin he’s ever seen and he almost can’t breathe. 

“That would be lovely, Spencer,” you agree. He wants to hug you - to kiss you, really - but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, or himself, so he settles on matching your smile and nodding happily. 

“Good,” Spencer manages to say, allowing himself the irresistible pleasure of being lost in your eyes for just a moment too long. He clears his throat, “Good. Shall we say 5:30ish?”

You nod emphatically before excusing yourself to your room. You watch him, your grin still firmly set on your face, until you’ve shut your door behind you. Spencer looks idly at his watch. 12:47. 

4 hours and 43 minutes, he thinks. I have 4 hours and 43 minutes to make this happen.

~~~

At 5:29 on the dot, Spencer raps on your door, wishing he’d tied his tie a little less tightly as he can hardly breathe regardless. He swallows deeply when you don’t immediately answer the door. Maybe you’ve changed your mind. Maybe you overslept. Maybe you-

“Hi, Spencer,” you breathe as you open the door. And, once again, Spencer is unable to breathe, but for a different reason entirely. You look absolutely fucking stunning. Another moment for the favorite memories, he thinks. The little black dress you’re wearing does you little justice, though. To be sure, you look lovely - you are lovely - always, but there’s something about the fact that you’ve dressed up for him, to go out with him, is enough to make him explode.

“H-Hi,” he stammers out raggedly. “You...you l-look-”

“It’s not much, I know,” you look away, shyly, “but it’s the best I could do from my go-bag-”

“You look stunning,” he rasps, the temptation to kiss you so strong he’s just managing to control it. Spencer swallows, the frazzle not quite leaving his voice, “I’m glad I was able to find somewhere nice enough to take you.”

“It doesn’t have to be anywhere nice, Spencer, I-”

“You deserve something nice, Y/N,” he insists. “It’s your birthday.” You blush beautifully and, even if he had reason to, Spencer doubts he could stop smiling.

“As much as I appreciate that sentiment,” you practically whisper, “I just meant that...if it’s with you, it’ll be more than enough.”

Everything he’s planned leaves his brain. The last four hours of calling, texting, buying, and plotting are the furthest thing from his mind. Spencer, almost unaware of his own body, surges forward, his hands cupping your face as gently as he dares before slotting his lips over yours. Another moment climbs to the top of his favorites as you, thankfully, kiss him back. Your hands roam his chest, a feeling he will thankfully never forget. You moan slightly into his mouth, a sound he will thankfully never forget (especially as the sensation immediately shoots to his groin). He continues the onslaught of his affection to your mouth until he absolutely cannot breathe anymore. Pulling back and panting for breath, Spencer presses a soft kiss to your hairline, before meeting your eyes, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your lips.

“I adore you,” he sighs. “And I know that you...that I’m not the best-”

“Spencer,” you admonish sweetly, “I hope you don’t think I kiss all people back like that.” He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it as you giggle up at him, sweetly. “I like you a lot, Spencer. I have for a while now.”

“Thank fuck,” he sighs, relieved. You smile back up at him, a teasing smile quirking on your lips. Spencer grabs you closer to him, a hand sliding into your hair and the other making purchase of your waist as he kisses you again.

“Spencer,” you moan breathily, as he kisses along your jaw. He’s not quite sure how it happens, but at some point he turns you around. Later, you posit that he was potentially hellbent on getting you to his bed as quickly as possible, but that seems fairly bold for Spencer’s standards. All he knows is that one moment, he’s pushed you up against his door, his lips kissing their way from your ear, which he nips cheekily, back to your mouth and the next, the two of you are falling through his door, crashing to the ground as the team yells, “SURPRISE” above you.

There is a chilling silence that, logically, Spencer knows only lasts a few seconds, but feels like hours. He stands quickly, pulling you up from the floor hastily. He can’t meet anyone’s eyes and you’re practically hiding behind him. The silence is broken by Rossi practically howling with laughter. Hotch starts laughing a second later, followed quickly by JJ and Derek. Emily narrows her eyes at Spencer. 

“Goddamnit,” she exclaims quietly. “You guys couldn’t wait until after the party?”

“What?” you ask, popping your head around his arm to look at her.

“Morgan and I had a bet that Spencer would tell you how he feels about you. He guessed before the party, I guessed after-”

“And I believe you owe me $20,” Derek remarks smugly, chuckling. Hotch steps forward, putting a hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“And then I believe you owe me that $20, Morgan,” Hotch says, sounding pleased with himself. “I told you they wouldn’t make it to the party before he kissed her.”

“What party?” you ask quietly, all the attention in the room turning back to you.

“Spence texted us all after we got back here and told us we’d missed your birthday,” JJ explains, as Derek passes a twenty dollar bill from Emily to Hotch. “And then set all of this up.”

You step to Spencer’s side and he watches as you take in his decorated hotel room. The small space has been decorated with as many balloons as Spencer could get in four hours, as well as streamers and Christmas lights. The desk is covered in food - pizza, cookies, and even a birthday cake.

“You did this?” you ask, eyes wide and slightly brimmed with tears.

“I told you I didn’t forget your birthday,” Spencer admits shyly. He sees your eyes flick to the group of profilers watching you all before you speak again.

“You have an eidetic memory. You couldn’t forget it if you tried.”

“Even if I didn’t,” Spencer interrupts, tucking an errant lock of hair behind your ear, really just as an excuse to cup your cheek. “It would take a lifetime to forget someone like you.”

You smile up at him before tipping onto your toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. Your small audience sighs in adoration, but Spencer cares about little else but you as you pull away and whisper, “I doubt this will be a birthday I’ll ever forget.”

Spencer grins down at you, absolutely thrilled he remembered your birthday.  

~ Not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever forget. - Leo Tolstoy ~

~~~

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[chrizbang]

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.121

Warnings: mature content, unprotected sex, oral sex (m)

Summary: Chan challenged you to go five days without an orgasm. Will you be able to do it?

Days: 1, 2, 3

You had to be honest, you were impressed at how Chan was going out of his way to tease you. You were working in the living room. I mean, trying to work. You were sitting on the couch, with your laptop in your hands, trying real hard to concentrate, but it was impossible. For some reason, Chan decided to work out in the living room. Something he had never done before. It wouldn't be a problem at all if it wasn't for the fact that he was only wearing grey sweatpants. So sweaty, shirtless Chan was already something that was enough to distract you. But it was Chan. Of course, he wouldn't stop there. He was always a vocal person. So he was grunting and moaning at every move he did. If you didn't see him working out, you would be sure he was masturbating by the noises he was making. You sighed, once again trying to write the email you had to send to your boss. Chan got up from the floor after a push-up session. He began to stretch out his body. His toned, gorgeous body. You were shamelessly watching at this point, practically drooling. Chan turned around to face you and you tried to disguise by looking at your notebook,  pretending that you were working. "I thought you were supposed to be working, not watching me," he said with a grin on his face. He ran his hand through his forehead, taking some of the sweat away. "I wasn't... I wasn't watching you," you cleared your throat. "In fact, I was trying to work, but you kept distracting me." "Me? I was just working out, baby girl. It's not my fault if you think I'm irresistible." You tried to say something, but you stumbled on your words, stuttering. "You know what?" you asked. "I'm going upstairs." You tried to grab your stuff but Chan stopped you, giving you a tight hug. "Aw baby, I'm sorry," he said as he squeezed you a little. "I'm just trying to tease you." "I'm just..." you sighed. "I'm frustrated." Chan looked at you. "Because of work?" "Yeah," you replied, looking down. "But also because I'm constantly horny." "Oh, baby," he said, smiling. "You can use your safe word, you know that, right?" "I'm not giving up, Chan." "Okay, baby. It's up to you." Chan kissed your cheek before kissing your lips. It was a soft, slow kiss. I kiss that meant "I love you" instead of "I wanna fuck you." You felt butterflies in your stomach, thinking about how much you loved him and how much you were loved. "I'm gonna take a shower, okay?" Chan asked. "Okay, baby." You went back to work as Chan went upstairs. You were finally able to finish your work. After you were done, you got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to get something to drink. As you were filling your cup with water, you heard Chan coming down the stairs. While you were drinking your water, you felt him hugging you from behind. "You look so good, baby," he said in a sweet voice. You furrowed your eyebrows. You were wearing an oversized t-shirt with booty shorts, you had your hair tied in a bun. "Chan, I've looked better," you chuckled. "No, baby. I like it when you wear comfy clothes. I also like when you get all dressed up. You look good in anything." "What do you want?" you asked, suspicious. Chan bit his lip. "I wanna fuck you." "Ah, of course," you laughed. "Hey! I meant everything I said." "Let's go upstairs," you suggested, holding his hand. "No, baby," Chan said, stopping you. "I wanna fuck you right here." "Hm, that's bold, I like it." You held his head with your hands and gave him a deep kiss. Chan grabbed your ass, massaging it firmly. You smiled against his lips. Suddenly, Chan grabbed you, lifting you up from the floor. He put you on the kitchen balcony. He took your shorts off, leaving you naked from the waist down. "That's not very hygienic," you said, thinking about how you were sitting half-naked on the same place you prepared your food. Chan chuckled. "We can clean it later, baby girl." Chan lowered his pants, freeing his dick. He pumped it a few times before aligning it into your entrance. You spread your legs as much as you could, giving space so Chan could fuck you. He ran the tip of his dick on your cunt a few times. "Fuck, you are so wet already?" he asked as he teased you with his dick, rubbing the head against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. "That's your fault," you complained. "If that makes you feel better, I feel the same about you, baby girl," he said as he began to slide his dick inside of you. You took a deep breath, loving how big Chan was. It was a bit painful at the beginning, but soon enough, you were able to accommodate his length.

Chan kissed you, molding his lips against yours. It was messy, dirty, and you loved it. He began to move, pounding into you. "So good, baby," he whispered in your ear. "You always feel so good." You hugged him, pulling him closer. "Deeper," you said. Chan moaned as his cock went deeper inside of your cunt. He used one of his hands to grab your boob, while the other held you by the waist. You licked his neck, biting and leaving marks behind. You could tell that he was getting close by his moans. "Stop," you said. Chan looked at you with wide eyes. "Is everything okay?" he asked. "Yeah." You got up from the balcony, getting on the floor. "I want you to cum in my mouth," you said, looking at him right in the eyes. Chan smiled. You pumped his dick with both hands. Your hands were sliding easily because of your wetness. "Baby, I'm getting close," Chan moaned, throwing his head back. You sucked harshly on the tip of his cock, while still pumping his length. "Fuck," he groaned with his eyes closed. You watched as he was getting closer to the edge. "Baby girl, I'm gonna cum," he moaned. You increased the speed of your hands while you kept licking and sucking the tip. Didn't take long before you felt his hot cum in your mouth. You milked him dry, swallowing every single drop. "Shit, you're so good, love," he said, helping to get up. "Did you like it?" you asked with a smile on your face. "You know I did." He kissed you one more time before helping you to get dressed.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Musicians On Musicians: Paul McCartney & Taylor Swift

By: Patrick Doyle for Rolling Stone Date: November 13th 2020

On songwriting secrets, making albums at home, and what they’ve learned during the pandemic.

Taylor Swift arrived early to Paul McCartney’s London office in October, “mask on, brimming with excitement.” “I mostly work from home these days,” she writes about that day, “and today feels like a rare school field trip that you actually want to go on.”

Swift showed up without a team, doing her own hair and makeup. In addition to being two of the most famous pop songwriters in the world, Swift and McCartney have spent the past year on similar journeys. McCartney, isolated at home in the U.K., recorded McCartney III. Like his first solo album, in 1970, he played nearly all of the instruments himself, resulting in some of his most wildly ambitious songs in a long time. Swift also took some new chances, writing over email with the National’s Aaron Dessner and recording the raw Folklore, which abandons arena pop entirely in favor of rich character songs. It’s the bestselling album of 2020.

Swift listened to McCartney III as she prepared for today’s conversation; McCartney delved into Folkore. Before the photo shoot, Swift caught up with his daughters Mary (who would be photographing them) and Stella (who designed Swift’s clothes; the two are close friends). “I’ve met Paul a few times, mostly onstage at parties, but we’ll get to that later,” Swift writes. “Soon he walks in with his wife, Nancy. They’re a sunny and playful pair, and I immediately feel like this will be a good day. During the shoot, Paul dances and takes almost none of it too seriously and sings along to Motown songs playing from the speakers. A few times Mary scolds, ‘Daaad, try to stand still!’ And it feels like a window into a pretty awesome family dynamic. We walk into his office for a chat, and after I make a nervous request, Paul is kind enough to handwrite my favorite lyric of his and sign it. He makes a joke about me selling it, and I laugh because it’s something I know I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. That’s around the time when we start talking about music.”

Taylor Swift: I think it’s important to note that if this year had gone the way that we thought it was going to go, you and I would have played Glastonbury this year, and instead, you and I both made albums in isolation.

Paul McCartney: Yeah!

Swift: And I remember thinking it would have been so much fun because the times that I’ve run into you, I correlate with being some of the most fun nights of my life. I was at a party with you, when everybody just started playing music. And it was Dave Grohl playing, and you...

McCartney: You were playing one of his songs, weren’t you?

Swift: Yes, I was playing his song called “Best of You,” but I was playing it on piano, and he didn’t recognize it until about halfway through. I just remember thinking, “Are you the catalyst for the most fun times ever?” Is it your willingness to get up and play music that makes everyone feel like this is a thing that can happen tonight?

McCartney: I mean, I think it’s a bit of everything, isn’t it? I’ll tell you who was very... Reese Witherspoon was like, “Are you going to sing?” I said “Oh, I don’t know.” She said, “You’ve got to, yeah!” She’s bossing me around. So I said, “Whoa,” so it’s a bit of that.

Swift: I love that person, because the party does not turn musical without that person.

McCartney: Yeah, that’s true.

Swift: If nobody says, “Can you guys play music?” we’re not going to invite ourselves up onstage at whatever living-room party it is.

McCartney: I seem to remember Woody Harrelson got on the piano, and he starts playing “Let It Be,” and I’m thinking, “I can do that better.” So I said, “Come on, move over, Woody.” So we’re both playing it. It was really nice... I love people like Dan Aykroyd, who’s just full of energy and he loves his music so much, but he’s not necessarily a musician, but he just wanders around the room, just saying, “You got to get up, got to get up, do some stuff.”

Swift: I listened to your new record. And I loved a lot of things about it, but it really did feel like kind of a flex to write, produce, and play every instrument on every track. To me, that’s like flexing a muscle and saying, “I can do all this on my own if I have to.”

McCartney: Well, I don’t think like that, I must admit. I just picked up some of these instruments over the years. We had a piano at home that my dad played, so I picked around on that. I wrote the melody to “When I’m 64” when I was, you know, a teenager.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: When the Beatles went to Hamburg, there were always drum kits knocking around, so when there was a quiet moment, I’d say, “Do you mind if I have a knock around?” So I was able to practice, you know, without practicing. That’s why I play right-handed. Guitar was just the first instrument I got. Guitar turned to bass; it also turned into ukulele, mandolin. Suddenly, it’s like, “Wow,” but it’s really only two or three instruments.

Swift: Well, I think that’s downplaying it a little bit. In my mind, it came with a visual of you being in the country, kind of absorbing the sort of do-it-yourself [quality] that has had to come with the quarantine and this pandemic. I found that I’ve adapted a do-it-yourself mentality to a lot of things in my career that I used to outsource.  I’m just wondering what a day of recording in the pandemic looked like for you.

McCartney: Well, I’m very lucky because I have a studio that’s, like, 20 minutes away from where I live. We were in lockdown on a farm, a sheep farm with my daughter Mary and her four kids and her husband. So I had four of my grandkids, I had Mary, who’s a great cook, so I would just drive myself to the studio. And there were two other guys that could come in and we’d be very careful and distanced and everything: my engineer Steve, and then my equipment guy Keith. So the three of us made the record, and I just started off. I had to do a little bit of film music - I had to do an instrumental for a film thing - so I did that. And I just kept going, and that turned into the opening track on the album. I would just come in, say, “Oh, yeah, what are we gonna do?” [Then] have some sort of idea, and start doing it. Normally, I’d start with the instrument I wrote it on, either piano or guitar, and then probably add some drums and then a bit of bass till it started to sound like a record, and then just gradually layer it all up. It was fun.

Swift: That’s so cool.

McCartney: What about yours? You’re playing guitar and piano on yours.

Swift: Yeah, on some of it, but a lot of it was made with Aaron Dessner, who’s in a band called the National that I really love. And I had met him at a concert a year before, and I had a conversation with him, asking him how he writes. It’s my favorite thing to ask people who I’m a fan of. And he had an interesting answer. He said, “All the band members live in different parts of the world. So I make tracks. And I send them to our lead singer, Matt, and he writes the top line.” I just remember thinking, “That is really efficient.” And I kind of stored it in my brain as a future idea for a project. You know, how you have these ideas... “Maybe one day I’ll do this.” I always had in my head: “Maybe one day I’ll work with Aaron Dessner.”

So when lockdown happened, I was in L.A., and we kind of got stuck there. It’s not a terrible place to be stuck. We were there for four months maybe, and during that time, I sent an email to Aaron Dessner and I said, “Do you think you would want to work during this time? Because my brain is all scrambled, and I need to make something, even if we’re just kind of making songs that we don’t know what will happen...”

McCartney: Yeah, that was the thing. You could do stuff -  you didn’t really worry it was going to turn into anything.

Swift: Yeah, and it turned out he had been writing instrumental tracks to keep from absolutely going crazy during the pandemic as well, so he sends me this file of probably 30 instrumentals, and the first one I opened ended up being a song called “Cardigan,” and it really happened rapid-fire like that. He’d send me a track; he’d make new tracks, add to the folder; I would write the entire top line for a song, and he wouldn’t know what the song would be about, what it was going to be called, where I was going to put the chorus. I had originally thought, “Maybe I’ll make an album in the next year, and put it out in January or something,” but it ended up being done and we put it out in July. And I just thought there are no rules anymore, because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, “How will this song sound in a stadium? How will this song sound on radio?” If you take away all the parameters, what do you make? And I guess the answer is Folklore.

McCartney: And it’s more music for yourself than music that’s got to go do a job. My thing was similar to that: After having done this little bit of film music, I had a lot of stuff that I had been working on, but I’d said, “I’m just going home now,” and it’d be left half-finished. So I just started saying, “Well, what about that? I never finished that.” So we’d pull it out, and we said, “Oh, well, this could be good.” And because it didn’t have to amount to anything, I would say, “Ah, I really want to do tape loops. I don’t care if they fit on this song, I just want to do some.” So I go and make some tape loops, and put them in the song, just really trying to do stuff that I fancy.

I had no idea it would end up as an album; I may have been a bit less indulgent, but if a track was eight minutes long, to tell you the truth, what I thought was, “I’ll be taking it home tonight, Mary will be cooking, the grandkids will all be there running around, and someone, maybe Simon, Mary’s husband, is going to say, ‘What did you do today?’ And I’m going to go, ‘Oh,’ and then get my phone and play it for them.” So this became the ritual.

Swift: That’s the coziest thing I’ve ever heard.

McCartney: Well, it’s like eight minutes long, and I said, “I hate it when I’m playing someone something and it finishes after three minutes.” I kind of like that it just [continues] on.

Swift: You want to stay in the zone.

McCartney: It just keeps going on. I would just come home, “Well, what did you do today?” “Oh, well, I did this. I’m halfway through this,” or, “We finished this.”

Swift: I was wondering about the numerology element to McCartney III. McCartney I, II, and III have all come out on years with zeroes.

McCartney: Ends of decades.

Swift: Was that important?

McCartney: Yeah, well, this was being done in 2020, and I didn’t really think about it. I think everyone expected great things of 2020. “It’s gonna be great! Look at that number! 2020! Auspicious!” Then suddenly Covid hit, and it was like, “That’s gonna be auspicious all right, but maybe for the wrong reasons.” Someone said to me, “Well, you put out McCartney right after the Beatles broke up, and that was 1970, and then you did McCartney II in 1980.” And I said, “Oh, I’m going to release this in 2020 just for whatever you call it, the numerology...”

Swift: The numerology, the kind of look, the symbolism. I love numbers. Numbers kind of rule my whole world. The numbers 13... 89 is a big one. I have a few others that I find...

McCartney: Thirteen is lucky for some.

Swift: Yeah, it’s lucky for me. It’s my birthday. It’s all these weird coincidences of good things that have happened. Now, when I see it places, I look at it as a sign that things are going the way they’re supposed to. They may not be good now, they could be painful now, but things are on a track. I don’t know, I love the numerology.

McCartney: It’s spooky, Taylor. It’s very spooky. Now wait a minute: Where’d you get 89?

Swift: That’s when I was born, in 1989, and so I see it in different places and I just think it’s...

McCartney: No, it’s good. I like that, where certain things you attach yourself to, and you get a good feeling off them. I think that’s great.

Swift: Yeah, one of my favorite artists, Bon Iver, he has this thing with the number 22. But I was also wondering: You have always kind of seeked out a band or a communal atmosphere with like, you know, the Beatles and Wings, and then Egypt Station. I thought it was interesting when I realized you had made a record with no one else. I just wondered, did that feel natural?

McCartney: It’s one of the things I’ve done. Like with McCartney, because the Beatles had broken up, there was no alternative but to get a drum kit at home, get a guitar, get an amp, get a bass, and just make something for myself. So on that album, which I didn’t really expect to do very well, I don’t think it did. But people sort of say, “I like that. It was a very casual album.” It didn’t really have to mean anything. So I’ve done that, the play-everything-myself thing. And then I discovered synths and stuff, and sequencers, so I had a few of those at home. I just thought I’m going to play around with this and record it, so that became McCartney II. But it’s a thing I do. Certain people can do it. Stevie Wonder can do it. Stevie Winwood, I believe, has done it. So there are certain people quite like that.

When you’re working with someone else, you have to worry about their variances. Whereas your own variance, you kind of know it. It’s just something I’ve grown to like. Once you can do it, it becomes a little bit addictive. I actually made some records under the name the Fireman.

Swift: Love a pseudonym.

McCartney: Yeah, for the fun! But, you know, let’s face it, you crave fame and attention when you’re young. And I just remembered the other day, I was the guy in the Beatles that would write to journalists and say [speaks in a formal voice]: “We are a semiprofessional rock combo, and I’d think you’d like [us]... We’ve written over 100 songs (which was a lie), my friend John and I. If you mention us in your newspaper...” You know, I was always, like, craving the attention.

Swift: The hustle! That’s so great, though.

McCartney: Well, yeah, you need that.

Swift: Yeah, I think, when a pseudonym comes in is when you still have a love for making the work and you don’t want the work to become overshadowed by this thing that’s been built around you, based on what people know about you. And that’s when it’s really fun to create fake names and write under them.

McCartney: Do you ever do that?

Swift: Oh, yeah.

McCartney: Oh, yeah? Oh, well, we didn’t know that! Is that a widely known fact?

Swift: I think it is now, but it wasn’t. I wrote under the name Nils Sjöberg because those are two of the most popular names of Swedish males. I wrote this song called “This Is What You Came For” that Rihanna ended up singing. And nobody knew for a while. I remembered always hearing that when Prince wrote “Manic Monday,” they didn’t reveal it for a couple of months.

McCartney: Yeah, it also proves you can do something without the fame tag. I did something for Peter and Gordon; my girlfriend’s brother and his mate were in a band called Peter and Gordon. And I used to write under the name Bernard Webb.

Swift: [Laughs.] That’s a good one! I love it.

McCartney: As Americans call it, Ber-nard Webb. I did the Fireman thing. I worked with a producer, a guy called Youth, who’s this real cool dude. We got along great. He did a mix for me early on, and we got friendly. I would just go into the studio, and he would say, “Hey, what about this groove?” and he’d just made me have a little groove going. He’d say, “You ought to put some bass on it. Put some drums on it.” I’d just spend the whole day putting stuff on it. And we’d make these tracks, and nobody knew who Fireman was for a while. We must have sold all of 15 copies.

Swift: Thrilling, absolutely thrilling.

McCartney: And we didn’t mind, you know?

Swift: I think it’s so cool that you do projects that are just for you. Because I went with my family to see you in concert in 2010 or 2011, and the thing I took away from the show most was that it was the most selfless set list I had ever seen. It was completely geared toward what it would thrill us to hear. It had new stuff, but it had every hit we wanted to hear, every song we’d ever cried to, every song people had gotten married to, or been brokenhearted to. And I just remembered thinking, “I’ve got to remember that,” that you do that set list for your fans.

McCartney: You do that, do you?

Swift: I do now. I think that learning that lesson from you taught me at a really important stage in my career that if people want to hear “Love Story” and “Shake It Off,” and I’ve played them 300 million times, play them the 300-millionth-and-first time. I think there are times to be selfish in your career, and times to be selfless, and sometimes they line up.

McCartney: I always remembered going to concerts as a kid, completely before the Beatles, and I really hoped they would play the ones I loved. And if they didn’t, it was kind of disappointing. I had no money, and the family wasn’t wealthy. So this would be a big deal for me, to save up for months to afford the concert ticket.

Swift: Yeah, it feels like a bond. It feels like that person on the stage has given something, and it makes you as a crowd want to give even more back, in terms of applause, in terms of dedication. And I just remembered feeling that bond in the crowd, and thinking, “He’s up there playing these Beatles songs, my dad is crying, my mom is trying to figure out how to work her phone because her hands are shaking so much.” Because seeing the excitement course through not only me, but my family and the entire crowd in Nashville, it just was really special. I love learning lessons and not having to learn them the hard way. Like learning nice lessons I really value.

McCartney: Well, that’s great, and I’m glad that set you on that path. I understand people who don’t want to do that, and if you do, they’ll say, “Oh, it’s a jukebox show.” I hear what they’re saying. But I think it’s a bit of a cheat, because the people who come to our shows have spent a lot of money. We can afford to go to a couple of shows and it doesn’t make much difference. But a lot of ordinary working folks... it’s a big event in their life, and so I try and deliver. I also, like you say, try and put in a few weirdos.

Swift: That’s the best. I want to hear current things, too, to update me on where the artist is. I was wondering about lyrics, and where you were lyrically when you were making this record. Because when I was making Folklore, I went lyrically in a total direction of escapism and romanticism. And I wrote songs imagining I was, like, a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair [laughs]. I was completely...

McCartney: Was this “I want to give you a child”? Is that one of the lines?

Swift: Oh, that’s a song called “Peace.”

McCartney: “Peace,” I like that one.

Swift: “Peace” is actually more rooted in my personal life. I know you have done a really excellent job of this in your personal life: carving out a human life within a public life, and how scary that can be when you do fall in love and you meet someone, especially if you’ve met someone who has a very grounded, normal way of living. I, oftentimes, in my anxieties, can control how I am as a person and how normal I act and rationalize things, but I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and what they do and if they follow our car and if they interrupt our lives. I can’t control if there’s going to be a fake weird headline about us in the news tomorrow.

McCartney: So how does that go? Does your partner sympathize with that and understand?

Swift: Oh, absolutely.

McCartney: They have to, don’t they?

Swift: But I think that in knowing him and being in the relationship I am in now, I have definitely made decisions that have made my life feel more like a real life and less like just a storyline to be commented on in tabloids. Whether that’s deciding where to live, who to hang out with, when to not take a picture - the idea of privacy feels so strange to try to explain, but it’s really just trying to find bits of normalcy. That’s what that song “Peace” is talking about. Like, would it be enough if I could never fully achieve the normalcy that we both crave? Stella always tells me that she had as normal a childhood as she could ever hope for under the circumstances.

McCartney: Yeah, it was very important to us to try and keep their feet on the ground amongst the craziness.

Swift: She went to a regular school...

McCartney: Yeah, she did.

Swift: And you would go trick-or-treating with them, wearing masks.

McCartney: All of them did, yeah. It was important, but it worked pretty well, because when they kind of reached adulthood, they would meet other kids who might have gone to private schools, who were a little less grounded.

And they could be the budding mothers to [kids]. I remember Mary had a friend, Orlando. Not Bloom. She used to really counsel him. And it’s ’cause she’d gone through that. Obviously, they got made fun of, my kids. They’d come in the classroom and somebody would sing, “Na na na na,” you know, one of the songs. And they’d have to handle that. They’d have to front it out.

Swift: Did that give you a lot of anxiety when you had kids, when you felt like all this pressure that’s been put on me is spilling over onto them, that they didn’t sign up for it? Was that hard for you?

McCartney: Yeah, a little bit, but it wasn’t like it is now. You know, we were just living a kind of semi-hippie life, where we withdrew from a lot of stuff. The kids would be doing all the ordinary things, and their school friends would be coming up to the house and having parties, and it was just great. I remember one lovely evening when it was Stella’s birthday, and she brought a bunch of school kids up. And, you know, they’d all ignore me. It happens very quickly. At first they’re like, “Oh, yeah, he’s like a famous guy,” and then it’s like [yawns]. I like that. I go in the other room and suddenly I hear this music going on. And one of the kids, his name was Luke, and he’s doing break dancing.

Swift: Ohhh!

McCartney: He was a really good break dancer, so all the kids are hanging out. That allowed them to be kind of normal with those kids. The other thing is, I don’t live fancy. I really don’t. Sometimes it’s a little bit of an embarrassment, if I’ve got someone coming to visit me, or who I know…

Swift: Cares about that stuff?

McCartney: Who’s got a nice big house, you know. Quincy Jones came to see me and I’m, like, making him a veggie burger or something. I’m doing some cooking. This was after I’d lost Linda, in between there. But the point I’m making is that I’m very consciously thinking, “Oh, God, Quincy’s got to be thinking, ‘What is this guy on? He hasn’t got big things going on. It’s not a fancy house at all. And we’re eating in the kitchen! He’s not even got the dining room going,’” you know?

Swift: I think that sounds like a perfect day.

McCartney: But that’s me. I’m awkward like that. That’s my kind of thing. Maybe I should have, like, a big stately home. Maybe I should get a staff. But I think I couldn’t do that. I’d be so embarrassed. I’d want to walk around dressed as I want to walk around, or naked, if I wanted to.

Swift: That can’t happen in Downton Abbey.

McCartney: [Laughs.] Exactly.

Swift: I remember what I wanted to know about, which is lyrics. Like, when you’re in this kind of strange, unparalleled time, and you’re making this record, are lyrics first? Or is it when you get a little melodic idea?

McCartney: It was a bit of both. As it kind of always is with me. There’s no fixed way. People used to ask me and John, “Well, who does the words, who does the music?” I used to say, “We both do both.” We used to say we don’t have a formula, and we don’t want one. Because the minute we get a formula, we should rip it up. I will sometimes, as I did with a couple of songs on this album, sit down at the piano and just start noodling around, and I’ll get a little idea and start to fill that out. So the lyrics - for me, it’s following a trail. I’ll start [sings “Find My Way,” a song from “McCartney III”]: “I can find my way. I know my left from right, da da da.” And I’ll just sort of fill it in. Like, we know this song, and I’m trying to remember the lyrics. Sometimes I’ll just be inspired by something. I had a little book which was all about the constellations and the stars and the orbits of Venus and...

Swift: Oh, I know that song - “The Kiss of Venus”?

McCartney: Yeah, “The Kiss of Venus.” And I just thought, “That’s a nice phrase.” So I was actually just taking phrases out of the book, harmonic sounds. And the book is talking about the maths of the universe, and how when things orbit around each other, and if you trace all the patterns, it becomes like a lotus flower.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: It’s very magical.

Swift: That is magical. I definitely relate to needing to find magical things in this very not-magical time, needing to read more books and learn to sew, and watch movies that take place hundreds of years ago. In a time where, if you look at the news, you just want to have a panic attack - I really relate to the idea that you are thinking about stars and constellations.

McCartney: Did you do that on Folklore?

Swift: Yes. I was reading so much more than I ever did, and watching so many more films.

McCartney: What stuff were you reading?

Swift: I was reading, you know, books like Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, which I highly recommend, and books that dealt with times past, a world that doesn’t exist anymore. I was also using words I always wanted to use - kind of bigger, flowerier, prettier words, like “epiphany,” in songs. I always thought, “Well, that’ll never track on pop radio,” but when I was making this record, I thought, “What tracks? Nothing makes sense anymore. If there’s chaos everywhere, why don’t I just use the damn word I want to use in the song?”

McCartney: Exactly. So you’d see the word in a book and think, “I love that word”?

Swift: Yeah, I have favorite words, like “elegies” and “epiphany” and “divorcée,” and just words that I think sound beautiful, and I have lists and lists of them.

McCartney: How about “marzipan”?

Swift: Love “marzipan.”

McCartney: The other day, I was remembering when we wrote “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds”: “kaleidoscope.”

Swift: “Kaleidoscope” is one of mine! I have a song on 1989, a song called “Welcome to New York,” that I put the word “kaleidoscope” in just because I’m obsessed with the word.

McCartney: I think a love of words is a great thing, particularly if you’re going to try to write a lyric, and for me, it’s like, “What is this going to say to that person?” I often feel like I’m writing to someone who is not doing so well. So I’m trying to write songs that might help. Not in a goody-goody, crusading kind of way, but just thinking there have been so many times in my life when I’ve heard a song and felt so much better. I think that’s the angle I want, that inspirational thing.

I remember once, a friend of mine from Liverpool, we were teenagers and we were going to a fairground. He was a schoolmate, and we had these jackets that had a little fleck in the material, which was the cool thing at the time.

Swift: We should have done matching jackets for this photo shoot.

McCartney: Find me a fleck, I’m in. But we went to the fair, and I just remember - this is what happens with songs - there was this girl at the fair. This is just a little Liverpool fair - it was in a place called Sefton Park - and there was this girl, who was so beautiful. She wasn’t a star. She was so beautiful. Everyone was following her, and it’s like, “Wow.” It’s like a magical scene, you know? But all this gave me a headache, so I ended up going back to his house - I didn’t normally get headaches. And we thought, “What can we do?” So we put on the Elvis song “All Shook Up.” By the end of that song, my headache had gone. I thought, you know, “That’s powerful.”

Swift: That really is powerful.

McCartney: I love that, when people stop me in the street and say, “Oh, I was going through an illness and I listened to a lot of your stuff, and I’m better now and it got me through,” or kids will say, “It got me through exams.” You know, they’re studying, they’re going crazy, but they put your music on. I’m sure it happens with a lot of your fans. It inspires them, you know?

Swift: Yeah, I definitely think about that as a goal. There’s so much stress everywhere you turn that I kind of wanted to make an album that felt sort of like a hug, or like your favorite sweater that makes you feel like you want to put it on.

McCartney: What, a “cardigan”?

Swift: Like a good cardigan, a good, worn-in cardigan. Or something that makes you reminisce on your childhood. I think sadness can be cozy. It can obviously be traumatic and stressful, too, but I kind of was trying to lean into sadness that feels like somehow enveloping in not such a scary way - like nostalgia and whimsy incorporated into a feeling like you’re not all right. Because I don’t think anybody was really feeling like they were in their prime this year. Isolation can mean escaping into your imagination in a way that’s kind of nice.

McCartney: I think a lot of people have found that. I would say to people, “I feel a bit guilty about saying I’m actually enjoying this quarantine thing,” and people go, “Yeah, I know, don’t say it to anyone.” A lot of people are really suffering.

Swift: Because there’s a lot in life that’s arbitrary. Completely and totally arbitrary. And [the quarantine] is really shining a light on that, and also a lot of things we have that we outsource that you can actually do yourself.

McCartney: I love that. This is why I said I live simply. That’s, like, at the core of it. With so many things, something goes wrong and you go, “Oh, I’ll get somebody to fix that.” And then it’s like, “No, let me have a look at it...”

Swift: Get a hammer and a nail.

McCartney: “Maybe I can put that picture up.” It’s not rocket science. The period after the Beatles, when we went to live in Scotland on a really - talk about dumpy - little farm. I mean, I see pictures of it now and I’m not ashamed, but I’m almost ashamed. Because it’s like, “God, nobody’s cleaned up around here.”

But it was really a relief. Because when I was with the Beatles, we’d formed Apple Records, and if I wanted a Christmas tree, someone would just buy it. And I thought, after a while, “No, you know what? I really would like to go and buy our Christmas tree. Because that’s what everyone does.” So you go down - “I’ll have that one” - and you carried it back. I mean, it’s little, but it’s huge at the same time.

I needed a table in Scotland and I was looking through a catalog and I thought, “I could make one. I did woodwork in school, so I know what a dovetail joint is.” So I just figured it out. I’m just sitting in the kitchen, and I’m whittling away at this wood and I made this little joint. There was no nail technology - it was glue. And I was scared to put it together. I said, “It’s not going to fit,” but one day, I got my woodwork glue and thought, “There’s no going back.” But it turned out to be a real nice little table I was very proud of. It was that sense of achievement.

The weird thing was, Stella went up to Scotland recently and I said, “Isn’t it there?” and she said, “No.” Anyway, I searched for it. Nobody remembered it. Somebody said, “Well, there’s a pile of wood in the corner of one of the barns, maybe that’s it. Maybe they used it for firewood.” I said, “No, it’s not firewood.” Anyway, we found it, and do you know how joyous that was for me? I was like, “You found my table?!” Somebody might say that’s a bit boring.

Swift: No, it’s cool!

McCartney: But it was a real sort of great thing for me to be able to do stuff for yourself. You were talking about sewing. I mean normally, in your position, you’ve got any amount of tailors.

Swift: Well, there’s been a bit of a baby boom recently; several of my friends have gotten pregnant.

McCartney: Oh, yeah, you’re at the age.

Swift: And I was just thinking, “I really want to spend time with my hands, making something for their children.” So I made this really cool flying-squirrel stuffed animal that I sent to one of my friends. I sent a teddy bear to another one, and I started making these little silk baby blankets with embroidery. It’s gotten pretty fancy. And I’ve been painting a lot.

McCartney: What do you paint? Watercolors?

Swift: Acrylic or oil. Whenever I do watercolor, all I paint is flowers. When I have oil, I really like to do landscapes. I always kind of return to painting a lonely little cottage on a hill.

McCartney: It’s a bit of a romantic dream. I agree with you, though, I think you’ve got to have dreams, particularly this year. You’ve got to have something to escape to. When you say “escapism,” it sounds like a dirty word, but this year, it definitely wasn’t. And in the books you’re reading, you’ve gone into that world. That’s, I think, a great thing. Then you come back out. I normally will read a lot before I go to bed. So I’ll come back out, then I’ll go to sleep, so I think it really is nice to have those dreams that can be fantasies or stuff you want to achieve.

Swift: You’re creating characters. This was the first album where I ever created characters, or wrote about the life of a real-life person. There’s a song called “The Last Great American Dynasty” that’s about this real-life heiress who lived just an absolutely chaotic, hectic...

McCartney: She’s a fantasy character?

Swift: She’s a real person. Who lived in the house that I live in.

McCartney: She’s a real person? I listened to that and I thought, “Who is this?”

Swift: Her name was Rebekah Harkness. And she lived in the house that I ended up buying in Rhode Island. That’s how I learned about her. But she was a woman who was very, very talked about, and everything she did was scandalous. I found a connection in that. But I also was thinking about how you write “Eleanor Rigby” and go into that whole story about what all these people in this town are doing and how their lives intersect, and I hadn’t really done that in a very long time with my music. It had always been so microscope personal.

McCartney: Yeah, ’cause you were writing breakup songs like they were going out of style.

Swift: I was, before my luck changed [laughs]. I still write breakup songs. I love a good breakup song. Because somewhere in the world, I always have a friend going through a breakup, and that will make me write one.

McCartney: Yeah, this goes back to this thing of me and John: When you’ve got a formula, break it. I don’t have a formula. It’s the mood I’m in. So I love the idea of writing a character. And, you know, trying to think, “What am I basing this on?” So “Eleanor Rigby” was based on old ladies I knew as a kid. For some reason or other, I got great relationships with a couple of local old ladies. I was thinking the other day, I don’t know how I met them, it wasn’t like they were family. I’d just run into them, and I’d do their shopping for them.

Swift: That’s amazing.

McCartney: It just felt good to me. I would sit and talk, and they’d have amazing stories. That’s what I liked. They would have stories from the wartime - because I was born actually in the war - and so these old ladies, they were participating in the war. This one lady I used to sort of just hang out with, she had a crystal radio that I found very magical. In the war, a lot of people made their own radios - you’d make them out of crystals [sings “The Twilight Zone” theme].

Swift: How did I not know this? That sounds like something I would have tried to learn about.

McCartney: It’s interesting, because there is a lot of parallels with the virus and lockdowns and wartime. It happened to everyone. Like, this isn’t HIV, or SARS, or Avian flu, which happened to others, generally. This has happened to everyone, all around the world. That’s the defining thing about this particular virus. And, you know, my parents... it happened to everyone in Britain, including the queen and Churchill. War happened. So they were all part of this thing, and they all had to figure out a way through it. So you figured out Folklore. I figured out McCartney III.

Swift: And a lot of people have been baking sourdough bread. Whatever gets you through!

McCartney: Some people used to make radios. And they’d take a crystal - we should look it up, but it actually is a crystal. I thought, “Oh, no, they just called it a crystal radio,” but it’s actually crystals like we know and love.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: And somehow they get the radio waves - this crystal attracts them - they tune it in, and that’s how they used to get their news. Back to “Eleanor Rigby,” so I would think of her and think of what she’s doing and then just try to get lyrical, just try to bring poetry into it, words you love, just try to get images like “picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been,” and Father McKenzie “is darning his socks in the night.” You know, he’s a religious man, so I could’ve said, you know, “preparing his Bible,” which would have been more obvious. But “darning his socks” kind of says more about him. So you get into this lovely fantasy. And that’s the magic of songs, you know. It’s a black hole, and then you start doing this process, and then there’s this beautiful little flower that you’ve just made. So it is very like embroidery, making something.

Swift: Making a table.

McCartney: Making a table.

Swift: Wow, it would’ve been so fun to play Glastonbury for the 50th anniversary together.

McCartney: It would’ve been great, wouldn’t it? And I was going to be asking you to play with me.

Swift: Were you going to invite me? I was hoping that you would. I was going to ask you.

McCartney: I would’ve done “Shake It Off.”

Swift: Oh, my God, that would have been amazing.

McCartney: I know it, it’s in C!

Swift: One thing I just find so cool about you is that you really do seem to have the joy of it, still, just no matter what. You seem to have the purest sense of joy of playing an instrument and making music, and that’s just the best, I think.

McCartney: Well, we’re just so lucky, aren’t we?

Swift: We’re really lucky.

McCartney: I don’t know if it ever happens to you, but with me, it’s like, “Oh, my god, I’ve ended up as a musician.”

Swift: Yeah, I can’t believe it’s my job.

McCartney: I must tell you a story I told Mary the other day, which is just one of my favorite little sort of Beatles stories. We were in a terrible, big blizzard, going from London to Liverpool, which we always did. We’d be working in London and then drive back in the van, just the four of us with our roadie, who would be driving. And this was a blizzard. You couldn’t see the road. At one point, it slid off and it went down an embankment. So it was “Ahhh,” a bunch of yelling. We ended up at the bottom. It didn’t flip, luckily, but so there we are, and then it’s like, “Oh, how are we going to get back up? We’re in a van. It’s snowing, and there’s no way.” We’re all standing around in a little circle, and thinking, “What are we going to do?” And one of us said, “Well, something will happen.” And I thought that was just the greatest. I love that, that’s a philosophy.

Swift: “Something will happen.”

McCartney: And it did. We sort of went up the bank, we thumbed a lift, we got the lorry driver to take us, and Mal, our roadie, sorted the van and everything. So that was kind of our career. And I suppose that’s like how I ended up being a musician and a songwriter: “Something will happen.”

Swift: That’s the best.

McCartney: It’s so stupid it’s brilliant. It’s great if you’re ever in that sort of panic attack: “Oh, my God,” or, “Ahhh, what am I going to do?”

Swift: “Something will happen.”

McCartney: All right then, thanks for doing this, and this was, you know, a lot of fun.

Swift: You’re the best. This was so awesome. Those were some quality stories!

[elfwoodfae]

Ima need you to write something filthy about Harry after he discovers y/n's erotic friend fiction about the team and learn what she really thinks about him.

Love, some one anonymous and your biggest fan

“Hurtful Lies” Harrison “Harry” Wells x reader

Author’s note: HUGE thank you to @wintersire for coming through and helping me keep Harry in character and help me edit and put together this story, honestly couldn’t have done it without her. Also I know is not exactly what you asked for but I could stop myself from the angst, I truly hope you like it. I loved writing it. I cried too while doing it.

WARNING: SMUT, ANSGT.

Gif credits to the owner, I found it on google.

4.5k

“Oh Harrison,” You moaned in his ear as he held you up against the wall, your legs tangled around his waist.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you,” He whispered, his hands going up your back and ripping open the fabric of your dress. His lips found yours, his teeth catching your bottom one, tugging on it for you to open your mouth.

His hand went down the curve of your ass to the inside of your thigh, feeling the heat coming from you.

“Every night since I met you I have dreamed about this moment, I've touched myself thinking of you, I adore you, everything about you.” You proclaimed against his mouth. He kissed you fiercely in response, savoring you.

You typed furiously into your computer, not wanting to lose the inspiration you had. This was your hobby, or more or less your practice into becoming a writer, and what better way to do it than writing about the center of your affections. Harrison Wells. Or more accurately, Earth 2 Harrison Wells. You had developed a hard crush on the man, everything about him drove you crazy, his hands, his hair, his lips, his back, and oh God did you wonder what was inside those pants; maybe that’s why he always wore them so baggy.

You could almost say it was an obsession at this point. At night, when you were alone, he was who you would think of while touching yourself, moaning his name. You wanted him so bad. It's gotten to the point where you would do anything for him, as scared as that thought made you.

Taking a break from typing and stretching your fingers, you leaned back to look at the screen and read over your writing. You wondered how long you've been writing for; it seemed like no time at all. When you catch the time you let out a curse. It was almost 8. and Cisco had insisted you all go out as a team for a very deserved family dinner at Barry’s place.

Saving the document and getting up from the computer you went over to your room, getting dressed up. While you readied yourself you heard a breach opening in your living room; Cisco was here to get you.

“I will be out in a minute! Get comfy.” You called out while struggling to fix the dress to make your breasts look more appetizing. Obviously you doubted Harry would notice, but at least you could dream he would. You had chosen a short float dress with an open back and low neckline, perfect for indiscreet kisses and flirty hands.

Back in the living room Cisco was moving through the apartment to get to the kitchen, leaving Harry, who had unexpectedly come with him, alone; something you were unaware of. The screen of your computer illuminated as a email notification appeared, catching Harry’s attention. He looked over and as he was about to dismiss it something called his attention back to it.

His name was written on whatever you were working on, moving towards it slowly he started to read it over, his eyes widening with every word he read. Just as he was about to scroll down the page the clicking of your heels could be heard, making him smack the screen down to hide what he was doing.

Trying to act normal he turned around, hiding his face from you and the blush softly creeping on it.

“Oh Harry, I didn’t know you had come with Cisco,” you said, looking at his back.

“He would take too long otherwise,” he grunted, unable to look you in the eye. His gaze stayed on your neck, trying to distract himself, but that was a mistake as he could see the way the dress hugged your body from his peripheral view. Memories of what you had written came to his mind as he wondered what it would feel like to run his hands up your back and take that dress off of you.

Clearing his throat he had to turn back around, hiding his hands in the pockets of his pants to try and hide something else triggered by the thought.

You took in his appearance. You don’t think you had ever seen him this formal, and for a moment he reminded you exactly of Thawne the night of the accelerator launch; his white shirt with a blazer on top, the first buttons open to show his skin, his black pants, and his hair; a little shorter and sharper on the sides. You wondered if this is what he looked like most of the time on his Earth; before zoom, when he was less worried about everything.

Cisco came back just in time from the kitchen, hurrying all of you into a breach to make it to Barry’s on time.

After the drinks started flowing, so did the good feelings; the atmosphere was joyful, everyone was having a good time, even Harry seemed relaxed in his own way.

As the night progressed and all of you sat around the living room, Caitlin asked about your project. She knew you had been working on a few pieces for a literature portfolio you had been building.

“Well I have been working on this piece I’m really excited about.” You said, causing Harry to suddenly choke on his drink.

“You good?” Cisco nudged him.

“Yeah yeah I’m just, I’m going to get some air,” he whispered getting up with his drink and walking over to the balcony.

Maybe it was the liquid courage the alcohol provided, or the fact that fate liked to play with you, but you suddenly felt brave enough to walk after him. You excused yourself quietly before following him into the cool night air.

“Hey,” you gently touched his shoulder. “Is everything okay?” You asked him with a kind smile. The one you always saved for him.

“Yeah, yeah, it's just a little crowded in there.” He lamely excused.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure. I’ll be leaving soon, I think I had one too many drinks, I’ll ask Cisco to breach me.” You said as you turned around, ready to leave, but right before you went through the door his hand stopped you, grabbing your arm delicately.

“I can walk you, I’m leaving too.” He said. He was regretting this as the words were leaving his mouth but it was already too late, you had smiled at him and nodded, letting him know you were getting your purse and saying your goodbyes. He didn’t know where this had come from, certainly not from his common sense as he knew he shouldn’t be giving you any hopes after what he had read in your computer, but he couldn’t help it, the alcohol in his system made him think slower and not very clearly.

The walk home was quiet, only making small talk between you both. He didn’t know why he had offered to walk you, Cisco could have breached you easily. Once you made it to your door you turned around, facing him.

“Hey,” you started, trying to find a way to phrase what you wanted to ask him. This may after all be your only chance at this.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” You asked him with a kind smile.

He shouldn’t stay, he should have said no and leave, he wasn’t thinking clearly and the consequences would prove to be devastating.

He nodded, too afraid of speaking and his words betraying him. He followed you inside, settling in the couch while you went to get some alcohol from the kitchen.

Serving him and yourself a drink you both settle on simple conversation, laughing and every once in a while you could see the way his eyes would fall to your lips.

Finishing your drinks, silence fell over you both, neither sure of what was supposed to happen, but the tension could be felt in the air. Softly, you moved closer to him, your hand finding his thigh as you leaned over him. He was studying you, his eyes on your lips. Slowly you touched his face, your lips connecting with his in a soft kiss.

He closed his eyes, his hands moving to the back of your neck as if by instinct, his lips pressed harder to yours, his teeth grazing your bottom one, prompting you to open your mouth. He had forgotten what it felt like to kiss someone else. His hands traveled down your back, feeling the soft skin of your back exposed by the dress. You moved to his lap, removing his blazer and playing with the buttons of his white shirt.

In a silent agreement you both decided to move this to the bedroom, you got up, offering him your hand for him to take and follow you. Once inside you turned around, kissing him again as you moved backwards towards the bed. His hands moved to the zipper of your dress, opening it and letting it fall of your form. There you stood, naked in front of him, only in your panties as you bit your lip, you looked absolutely stunning in his eyes.

He knew the only way he was being able to go through with this was because of the amount of alcohol in his system, and as he moved his hands to your waist to lean you back in the bed, kissing you, his breathing started to quicken. Heat spreading from the back of his neck to his shoulders. He was loosing focus on what he was doing.

Your hands moved to his pants, unbuckling them, opening the button of them and pushing them down, but the moment your hand touched his cock he lost it, he couldn’t do it. He started to panic, images of Tess came to his mind and his mind screamed at him that this was a betrayal to her memory.

Moving away from you quickly he turned around, trying to get himself back in his pants again.

“Harry?” You softly asked him, sitting up and covering yourself with the duvet.

“Hey it’s okay,” you tried again when he didn’t reply, noticing the way his breathing had quickened and he seemed to be panicking. Understanding came over you; he was probably nervous. You assumed he hasn’t been with anyone physically since his wife passed away.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you try again, touching his arm to reassure him, but the moment your skin touches his he flinched away from you.

“Don’t touch me” he says, getting up from the bed, his breathing quickening. He hasn't felt this way since Jessie was taken; the weight on his chest getting heavier every second he remained in your bedroom. He couldn’t explain why, but this sense of panic rose the moment he saw your face fall at him flinching away from you.

“Hey calm down, it's okay. I understand if you need time,” you began but he interrupted you with a breathy scoff. He was in a panic state now; he couldn’t think clearly anymore, he knew you knew what was happening to him, and somehow that show of weakness made the whole situation worse.

“What could you possibly understand, you're just a selfish brat. I don’t need you whoring yourself to me like you did to Thawne.” He spits quickly, not looking at you. He knew that seeing your face would be his last straw.

Your own panic becomes evident in the way your breathing changes. Tears pool in your eyes, so heavy that they start to fall without your consent. The hurt, the humiliation and embarrassment you feel at his words are obvious, how did he know what had happened with Thawne?

His panic dulls once his pants are securely covering him once more, clearing his head enough to allow him to process what he just said to you. He turns toward you, that feeling building once more but for a completely different reason this time. He shouldn’t have said that, he fucked up completely now. A sharp pain tugs at him the moment he sees your face; he went too far.

“No, y/n, I am,” he begins to say, he needs to fix this before is too late, but you close your eyes, whispering a quiet “get out”. When you open your eyes again, he is still there. He tries to reach for you but you dodge him, taking the blanket with you to the bathroom.

He tries to talk to you, to apologize, but by the way he can hear your sobbing from behind the closed door he knows there is nothing he can say to fix this, at least not now.

You stayed in the bathroom, sitting on the floor behind the door with your blankets around you until you heard the front door close, proving that he had indeed left.

How could he had done that to you? You had trusted him, you had trusted Harry to be different. You had never thought he could be so cruel, but once again you had been proven wrong and were hurt by two men wearing the same face.

Harry looks for you the next day. He needs to apologize, he needs to fix this because he can’t deal with the pain and guilt he is feeling now. He storms through the lab but he can’t find you. Eventually Ramon gets there, who informs him that you didn’t come today.

Harry seems to be in a even worse mood than before, yelling at everyone and throwing things every once in a while, a behavior he had overcome in his time on this earth.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” Cisco questions him, finally having been able to catch him.

He hesitates, unsure if telling Ramon what happened was the best idea but with how bad he screwed up he may need all the help he can get at fixing this.

“I, I made a mistake” he whispers, facing the white board he was writing on.

“Last night I walked y/n home, and we had a couple drinks and one thing led to another,” he says, fixing his glasses as he is unsure of how to continue.

“And” Cisco pushes.

“And we kissed and then I panicked, and I,” he sighs.

“Harry its okay." Cisco tries, but Harry doesn't face him. "Look, I am sure she didn’t take it personally.” Cisco stands and reaches out to pat his shoulder, trying to help Harry, but when he touched his arm he saw exactly what Harry said; he saw what happened, the way his words had affected you. He knew Harry had a temper but he never expected for him to be capable of being so hurtful, especially to you, who had been nothing but kind and understanding to him.

“Oh no Harry, what did you do?” Cisco quickly says, fear evident in his voice.

“What?” Harry says, turning to look at him.

“How could you had say that to her? How do you even know about Thawne?” Cisco demands, anger evident in his voice.

“I panicked Ramon, I wasn’t thinking when I said it.” He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“I heard Barry talking about Thawne and he mentioned that he and y/n were seeing each other.”

“That’s not the worst part Harry, we never talk about what happened not because of him but because of her too.” Cisco begins, he takes in a breath before continuing.

“Barry and y/n were closer back then, they were always together, but when Barry found out about Thawne, he also found out that y/n and him had a relationship, he instantly thought that she knew who he was and he never gave her a chance to explain,” he sighs, his eyes lost in the memories of that day.

“He was going to lock her in the pipeline with him, but Joe stopped him. Thawne had told her that she had been nothing but a distraction and a way for him to have fun, that he had never loved her. Barry was sure she had betrayed the team as well and when she was trying to explain he called her a desperate slut and accused her of not caring that he was a murderer." Cisco looks to the side, lost in the memory. "I still remember her face, the tears and how Joe had to intercept because he had crossed the line. After he locked her up, Thawne confessed that y/n was innocent, that she never knew who or what his intentions were.” Cisco proceeded explaining, making Harry only feel worse and worse by the second.

“Even when Barry apologized and she explained everything they never recovered, they never were as close as before and the team was not the same after that.” Cisco finished. God had he screwed up.

“I need to fix this Ramon,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead.

“I don’t honestly think you can do anything to fix this. I’m sorry Harry, but I think you can only give it time.” He said.

As the week progressed you had manage to avoid Harry at all costs, working on a lab far away from the cortex and completely opposite from him. You had expected to feel better by now, but his insult had only revived the memories buried in your mind, every time you looked at him now you could only see the original Wells, you could only see Thawne because the difference between both in your head had been completely erased after that night.

It took a week for Harry to finally corner you; he knew you were avoiding him, and he was trying to give you space, at least the first few days but every time you seemed to get a glance of his presence you would flee. He knew he deserved it.

When you made it home that night, after changing and settling down on the sofa you tried to relax, in all honesty the anxiety of the whole situation had made you too tense and too anxious to even be able to properly function that week.

As you switched between channels trying to distract yourself, you heard the telltale signs of a breach opening behind your couch. Cisco knew what had happened, he had hugged you as you cried that first day back after the incident.

“Cisco I am fine, I will be fine in a couple days” you added without looking back.

“It’s not Cisco” his raspy voice said, almost in a whisper and you instantly froze, not wanting to see him.

He noticed the way you tensed, how you wouldn’t turn around to see him.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered, tears threatening to fall.

“Please let me fix this, I am so sorry,” he began.

You looked at him, and as he took a step closer to you, you flinched away. He could see the fear in your eyes and that only hurt him more, he knew he deserved this, how could he blame you? He was wearing the same face as the man who once hurt you the same way he had done, in your eyes there was no difference between himself and Thawne.

He moved closer, slower this time, afraid to scare you away.

“I am so sorry,” he said again, trying to find the right words to make you understand that he hadn’t meant it.

“The other night, I, I panicked, I,” he couldn’t explain himself. Eventually he gave up and sat on the edge of the couch, giving you a wide berth. He took a deep breath.

“Her name was Tess,” he begins, closing his eyes at the tears he knows are coming.

“I know you know of her from the other one, but she was mine. My amazing, beautiful wife.” You only looked at him, allowing him to explain himself.

“When Jessie was 5, Tess got sick. We couldn’t figure out what was happening, she only lasted a couple more months.” He had removed his glasses by now, wiping the tears away from his eyes.

“After she died I became a bitter man; I was angry and broken. I couldn’t rebuild my life without her.” He continued, his eyes focus on the memories.

“That night, was, that night was the first time since her that I had allowed myself to be with someone, and the moment you touched me I panicked, my mind screaming that I was betraying her.” He finished.

You could see the pain in his eyes, the way the tears fell down his cheeks. You had never seen Harry so vulnerable.

Now you felt sorry for him; you could understand his panic.

“I know that’s not an excuse for what I said or how I treated you and I’m not asking you to forgive me but I needed to explain to you. I owed you that much.” He finished.

“Harry,” you began, trying to clean your face from your own tears.

“Harry I forgive you, I just,” you continued, looking up to clear your eyes of the tears trying to fall again.

“If you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did about you, you could have told me,” you said.

“That’s the thing, I have dreamt of you since the day I met you, I have wished to be able to move forward but I’m stuck, guilt eating me alive.” He said.

If there was ever any doubt in your mind of Harry being the same as his evil doppelgänger it was gone now. This man had suffered so much, he deserved to be happy and after finding someone who could help him he had locked himself away.

Standing up, you moved in front of where he was sitting, tangling your hands in his hair and bringing his face to your stomach, hugging him. His puppy eyes watched your every move, his hands instantly went around your waist, holding you, allowing himself to feel you.

“Harry, I know that you loved her very much, and I could never pretend or try to replace that love you had for her,” you began, trying to phrase what you wanted him to understand.

“Harry, she would want you to be happy, to keep living.” You said, rubbing your fingers softly through his hair.

“Your mind is lying to you, this is not a betrayal, you could never betray that love” you finished.

You felt him nod his head, still hugging you. His hands tightening around you. You stayed like that for a few minutes, letting him process your words.

His hand moved tangled in your shirt, pulling you down to his lap, allowing him to hug you closer, your arms went around his neck as he held you, burying his face in your hair.

“Would you give me a second chance?” He whispered against your skin, he needed to move on, to show you how much he cared for you.

“Harry, I” you began, scare that if you did he would hurt you again, you wouldn’t be able to get over that if it happened again.

“Please y/n, I need to show you how much you mean to me, please” he begged you, planting a soft kiss to the side of your neck.

“Only if you are sure you want to go through with this, to see where it could lead us” you told him, aware of the risk you were taking.

“I am” he confirmed, his hands running up your back.

Your own hands tangled again in his hair, pulling him to you, your lips connecting, softer this time, slower, he was taking his time exploring your mouth. You broke away from the kiss, looking at him while removing his glasses and putting them aside, leaning back down to kiss him.

His hand went under your shirt, caressing your back, feeling the soft skin as his kisses became hungrier. He moved his mouth across your jawline, delivering soft kisses and moving down your neck, obtaining a few sighs from you, his lips leaving a trail of open mouth kisses.

He got up slowly, tangling your legs around his waist he moved you both to your bedroom. Leaving you back down against the bed, removing his jacket before lowering himself on top of you.

This time his mind was clear, his only focus was you. To show you how much he wanted you and needed you. His hands found the hem of your shirt, looking at you for consent before removing it. He took the time to admire you, looking at every detail of your skin. He lowered himself, kissing your neck, the top of your breast as his hands ran up your waist, squeezing slightly before moving to your breast, caressing them and feeling the softness of them.

Your hands removed his shirt, aching to feel him bare against your skin. You moved your hands to his shoulders, feeling the way his muscles tensed and how they relaxed when you moved your hands down his back, his kisses trailed up back to your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin while his hand moved to caress your leg, running up your thigh to your ass, squeezing it and feeling how your body reacted to his touches.

Your hands moved to his pants, opening them but leaving them like that, giving him the option to remove them himself whenever he felt ready.

His hands found the hem of your underwear, once again he looked at you, wanting to make sure you still wanted this, you nodded while he removed them, his hand trailing back up to feel you, feel how soft you were and how wet he was making you. He groaned once his hand connected to your center, feeling the slickness covering his fingers as he moved them across your entrance, he love the way you moaned for him, throwing your head back. He buried his face in your neck at the same time his finger moved inside of you, opening you up for him. You gripped his hair as his lips sucked a mark onto your skin. Soon after another finger found its way inside of you; he was getting you ready. He curled them inside, making a long moan fall out of you as your eyes rolled back in your head. He could feel the way you pulled him in, how you squeezed him and dripped on his fingers. He moved them faster, grinding his palm onto your clit, drawing an orgasm out of you. He wanted you to come first, knowing that he wouldn’t last long.

He felt you tightening around his fingers, as you lifted yourself on your elbows, coming while moaning into his mouth.

He helped you ride out your orgasm, taking in the face you made for him, the way your eyes looked up at him half lidded and your teeth caught your lips to stop the moans from coming out. He adored the way you looked, how warm you felt against him.

He quickly pulled his pants down along with his underwear, letting his cock free. He grabbed it, feeling it throbbing in his hand, the head moist from the precum that had leaked out.

He stroked himself a few times before moving the head against your entrance. His arms trembling when he started to push in. He closed his eyes as he bottomed out, groaning against your skin as the feeling of your warmth surrounding him. He started to move slowly, lifting you to pull almost completely out before dropping you down again. He kissed your neck, biting softly at it, trying to distract himself to last a little longer. He doubted he would after so long. You felt so warm and divine around him. His pace quickened, hearing you moan while he grunted, feeling his orgasm building up. He was close, he could feel his muscles tingling and his cock ready to burst in you.

Your hands found his face, holding his cheeks to bring him to you, kissing him as he started to come inside, having to break himself from your mouth to moan into the air. That was a sigh you never wanted to forget. He moved himself to rest against your chest, hiding his face in your neck and breathing you in while your hands played with his back. He hadn’t felt this calm, this content in such a long time. He loved the peace you brought him, and he promised himself that no matter what, he would never hurt you again, he would keep you safe, he would love you and cherish you for the rest of his days if you would have him.

[fnf-amateur-writing]

Hey! It’s Fox again! How are you doing? I just started school back up today, so I’ve been busy Xp.

Think you would be cool with writing some Pico with an s/o who is a writer, and tends to ask him about things like “hey, how long does it take someone to bleed out” or other things like that?

I understand if you don’t feel like it, and I hope you’re having fun 😊

🦊

Hello again Fox, I'm doing quite well rn. I'm cool with your prompt, especially since I need more writing material anyways.

Took me a while, because I didn't want to do a hc, but rather come up with a oneshot with a little twist to the style. Well, hope it works well.

Good luck with school, mate!

TW: Mentions of violence, swearing, slight sexual reference, and crime.

Pico with a writer S/O who asks him strange questions

Prologue:

On a chilly autumn morning, you were sitting out on your patio with a laptop and a mug of your favourite beverage next to you. Whenever you looked up, you could see the warm coloured leaves fall as the breeze accompanied you. The whole scene was an aesthetic.

When your boyfriend, Pico, came outside to see this, he knew that the nice environment you surrounded yourself with meant one thing. "You're back in your writing space already. Heh, with that bestseller you published, I thought you were comfy taking a break." You simply smiled and said, "can't waste the inspiration rush I got right now."

Pico had a good point though, with your rising popularity as an author, you were near set to retire before turning fourty. But you wish you weren't given all of the credit, since your boyfriend's stories of his dodgy job has occasionally sparked some ideas for your stories. However the books you wrote in the past were usually meant for the young adult and had few mature themes. This time, you thought maybe it's time to garner extra inspiration from those stories.

You were met with some disappointment when you realised that your mug was empty, only a drop entering your mouth. "Here, babe, I'll ya some more," Pico said, taking your mug and walking inside. "Quick question," you stopped him. "Yeah?"

"What would be the best place for a murder cemetery?"

"... What?"

Chapter 1:

"So you're doing some story about the police hunting down a mass murderer?"

"Pretty much."

"And to think you were gonna write Pixar's next script. Aight' I respect that." Pico takes a seat next to you with a refill of your drink placed next to your favourite writing laptop. "Thanks, Pico. But yeah, I want to branch out to something edgier, and I think you can help too."

"Let me show you what I've got so far." You showed him some of your notes in a little notepad document, detailing the story thus far and your current plans for this chapter. "Oh, that's it? Just looks like boring police preparation mainly," Pico commented. "Yeah, it's not much right now. But it'll get juicy later." "And bloody?" "And bloody."

"Welp, I'm gonna head back in," Pico got up, "let me know if you need anything." He head back inside, closing the door, but then opened it almost immediately afterwards. Pico stuck his head out, "by the way, the guy should use some strong alcohol or something to throw off those sniffer dogs."

Chapter 2:

"And then, because they used a silencer, the police don't immediately notice the--"

"Nope! I'm calling bullshit (Y/N)!" Pico had suddenly interrupted your explanation of the scene you were currently working on. "Silencers can help prevent some hearing loss, sure, but they're not magic."

"Alright," you reply, "no silencer, but the killer still has to kill in a way to not get blood on them, so I thought shooting and killing them from a distance would work." "Well, they're alone. Instead, have the guy get shanked in the neck or something, and have the killer use a plastic bag as a glove. It saved my ass one time."

"Woah!" you exclaimed with a giggle, "you used a knife once? What happened to my trigger happy boyfriend, huh? That's pretty sus."

"I forgot to reload the Uzis, alright?"

"What an impostor would say."

Chapter 3:

"What would be the best way to muffle the scream of someone you kidnapped?"

You two were sitting on the couch together watching a show. You didn't have your laptop on you, so Pico didn't expect you to still be thinking about that book. "I can't say from experience, really," he said as he paused the show. "However, shove a rag in their mouth and duct tape it in, and you should be good."

"Thanks Pico, also one more thing." "Yeah?" "What if our killer also wanted to..." God, this one was gonna be awkward, but you had to say it or else no help. "You know, cut off this victim's willy. How would you do that?"

"Wai-wha-uh-ga," Pico started fumbling his words like never before. He stopped, then took a deep breath. "YO, WHAT THE FUCK?!" "It'll make sense in the story later, I promise!" You watch Pico begin to lose it, breaking into laughter. "Ladies, gentlemen, and others," Pico dramatically stood up, pulling a little Showcaster impression and directing his arms towards you, "my famous 'young' adult novelist partner!"

Chapter 4:

It was in the dead of night, but you awoke to Pico on his phone. His vpn was on and Tor was up. As per usual, he was checking up on his little hitman service, where others could request for a certain someone's guts to fly if they paid him a hefty sum first. Though tired, you ound this to be the best time to ask him some more questions.

"Pico, how do those sites work?"

"Oh, you're awake," Pico blankly stated, sleepy too. But he still answered you. "Basically, some anonymous rich guys in the area give me money and a target, then I just do the thing and send a mission accomplished email." "Do they pay you in person?" "Nah, we use always use Bitcoin. It's a lot harder to trace than real money."

"Thanks Pico. Goodnight," you wish him, yawning and going back to sleep. "You too... So this guy is a hit man too?" "Hush. Tomorrow." "Okay." Pico puts his phone away, leaving it on a nightstand. You then spoon the night away, peacefully thinking of murder as you drifted off.

Chapter 5:

On a morning similar to before, you two sat on the patio with your drinks and laptop at the ready. Pico watched rather awkwardly as you typed away, wondering why you haven't entertained him with another question yet.

"You gonna ask anything else?" "What? Oh, nah," you plainly state. Inevitable, sure, but he was kind of saddened. He liked being able to share his messed up wisdom. "So, you're done?" "Almost." You turn to look at him, "want the spoilers?" Pico smiled, "sure thing."

In the novella you and Pico crafted together, the main character is a cop who hunts down a killer. They eventually notice that there would be two murders at a time for unknown reasons. Well, it was unknown until one victim had left up a dark web hit man for hire site. They that the hit man not only kills the target, but the client as a hidden price for the service.

And any request will be fulfilled, according to the hit man's site.

"Do they catch 'em?" Pico asked. "Well, ANY request is granted. So, if our hero were to... hire him to kill himself..."

"No way!"

"He did. They find both of their bodies in his bedroom."

Pico was a bit impressed with the ending you came up with, but then he remembered something. "Why did that guy get his thing cut off?" "Lol, I forgot," you giggled. "He sent a message to the hit man, saying he wishes the target would choke on his dick."

"That's my favourite part."

Epilogue:

After everything was finished up, you sent the book off to your editor. After the initial joy of knowing how the story ended, you saw that Pico was still in thought. "What's up with you?" "Oh nothing, well it's just... I'm probably just biased, being that I'm a bit of a hitman myself, but it's kind of sad to see the guy go."

"Then I should spoil the epilogue I came up with." Rather than being excited, Pico nervously asked, "what's an epilogue?" He didn't get an answer, only you staring at him. "Sorry, school held too many bad memories for me to pay attention."

"Anyways," you continue, "the rest of the police gang did some background checks, and find that our killer was a normal guy with no criminal history."

"Penilian?"

"No. But I did decide to take a more supernatural approach here. Somewhere across the country, another string of double homicides occur and that site is active once more. And the story kind of repeats itself."

"Penilian."

"You joker," you give him a playful little kiss on the cheek, one that definitely caught him off guard. "So is it canon?" Pico smirked. "Nah, just thanking you for being my cute little co-author." "Oh," Pico started, "so we're flirtin' now, huh. Come here babe!" He tackled you onto the ground, giving you several kisses in exchange.

"Actually, I think we call that 'making out'," you chuckle out, flustered. "But that doesn't mean I said stop'!" You pull him in for more, accidentally bonking your heads together rather painfully. "Nice double kill there, (Y/N)."

[ktffansub]

Bijutsu Techo: Boys Love – Interview: Yoneda Kou

This article was first published in November 17th, 2014. Translated from Japanesse to Bahasa Indonesia by kalengjelek and then translated from Bahasa Indonesia to English by KTFfansub. Source: here

When did you first encounter manga?

I was born in a family with three daughters; while my older sister likes reading Ribbon magazine, I like reading Nakayoshi. It was the era of Asagiri Yuu-sensei, when I was in elementary school. My favorite at that time were Kusunoki Kei sensei’s works and Patlabor. When it came to Shonen, I would say I was more into Shounen Sunday. I also loved Kawaraha Izumi sensei’s works. When I think about it, rather than manga that were full of passion, I’d actually prefer manga that had calm and soothing kind of vibe.

Is that so… What about BL?

When I was in Junior High, my older sister showed me Captain Tsubasa Doujinshi by Ozaki Minami and I was dumbfounded, I thought, “So, there’s also a world like this!”. After that, I started to buy BL manga. At that time, the mangaka who left the most impression to me was Nishi Keikosensei. Her works such as Mizu Ga Koori Ni Naru Toki, Tenshi Ni Naranakya have unique openings, it made me reread them many times. Uida Shiuko (now Kano Shiuko) and Yoshinaga Fumi Sensei are also my favorite mangaka.

When was the first time you draw manga?

I seriously began drawing manga in my first year of junior high. At first, I drew a pair of man and woman, but after page three, I felt something was off. So, I tried drawing BL for the next one. Just like the present, I’ve always loved less expressive and less-talkactive main characters (laughs). But the more I draw, then an attentive senpai with good personality and short haired ones like Togawa in Doushitemo Furetakunai also appeared. At that moment I thought, “Oh, this is it!”

You really weren’t embarrassed, are you? (laughs)

Well, it’s because it was embarrassing, that’s why I’m not really open about my drawing manga activity.

(laughs) But you debut as professional mangaka eventually, how did that happen?

Yes, after that… I worked as office lady. I got married not long after, but then, I was getting through a marriage blues. At that time, I was invested in Kakashi and Naruto shown by my older sister along with Comiket catalogue.

The power of moe beats out your anxiety (laughs)

It’s true (laughs). Escaping from reality, I checked a lot of circles and opened some sites. There I found a work from a novelist (now has debuted professionally) that I really liked. This is why I started writing novel at first, not drawing. I have a lot of ways to accommodate my moe needs. I also once drew Doujinshi but due to my inability to use a proper diction, the result wasn’t optimal (laughs). After drawing slowly and more at ease, I got into Katekyo Hitman Reborn fandom and drew a lot of doujinshi for that series. A year later, I was contacted by Taiyou Tosho publisher.

“With that publisher, Yoneda Kou published Doushitemo Furetakunai which has been adapted into a movie. Since the beginning, Yoneda Kou didn’t draw one-shot but serialization. For the movie, even though it only tells a story of daily lives, but the directing, composition and dialogue are impressive. About 4,5 years later, the second volume of Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai that had the yakuza neighborhood setting was released. This has completely different feeling compared to Doushitemo Furetakunai.”

My first work was actually published in Drap, so I had it adjusted to be a less-heavy work. That’s why I ended up switching to another magazine.

Was it a demand from the editor?

Of course I only draw what I want to draw. But without realizing, I always draw them to fit the magazine. And it seems like Taiyou Tosho prefers me to draw more simple work.

So, sensei is the type who pays attention to editor’s suggestion. When you wrote the first chapter of Saezuru Tori Wa Habatakanai, did you already want Yashiro to be the main character (for longterm series)?

Right. I didn’t explain it in the first one-shot, but I always believe that no matter how you look at it, Yashiro really loved Kageyama. And (even though he’s drawn like that) he is actually a neko (uke). I think he is an interesting character. When I drew highschooler Yashiro and others, it had been decided that I wanted to write a serialization for this.

And only then the character Doumeki was born?

At that time, the character Doumeki didn’t exist, but I thought very hard about what kind of partner that would be suitable for Yashiro. I took a break from drawing for about two years. I only worked on illustration during that time, until one morning an idea suddenly came to me, “That’s right! Erectile dysfunction!”. I immediately sent an email to my editor: “A perverted impotent man!” (laughs). Afterwards, I finally worked on the first draft.

(laughs hard) Finally, the combination of Yashiro and Doumeki who are the opposite of each other was decided. What an amazing couple that can even make the readers losing sleep.

I do have this particular interest in people’s decision and behaviour resulted from a contrasting relationship that is full of conflicts. Because there are so many characters in Saezuru, I have this excel file compiling the plot for each character chronologically. Otherwise, I would’ve forgotten about it. If I didn’t seriously research (the setting of my own story), I wouldn’t be able to write anything when I made name. But even though I got through it, drawing a family with no blood ties like yakuza was still difficult. If I don’t focus, the story might turn out like Nagara Sakugyou*. That’s why now I’m just focusing on doing Saezuru.

*) nagara sakugyou: other work that being serialized at the same time

Up until now, Sensei has published 5 volumes and all of them have beautiful covers with varied tones.

Actually, the cover color for Doushitemo Furetakunai should’ve looked like red wine, but it seemed like there was an error in printing so the pink was contrasting into it. But it turned out to be good.

Then about the cover for the Saezuru first volume. It’s so impressive! The stepped-on man! All the people around me also had high appraise for this.

Actually, there were so many things happened in the process. By taking the request (it isn’t clearly explained whether it’s from editor/designer) of “Yashiro sitting alone”, I first submitted that illustration to the book designer. However, I couldn’t throw away the idea of Yashiro being stepped on, so, during the next three days I was stressed out. I’ve finally asked them to keep my idea and that’s how the cover of the first volume ended up the way it is now.

I see! For the second volume, it’s totally different, isn’t it? It’s a scenery, but when you do a double take, there are Yashiro and Doumeki!

I always want to give a different vibe in each volume. Actually I’m also a fan of the way Tsumugi Taku-sensei draws scenery.

Hoo-, sensei is a fan of Tsumugi sensei! Talking abough NIGHTS, when you open the cover, there’s a surprise in it!

Yes, if you look at the rough sketches there were 4 pages of picture that were interconnected. In the end, the desainer took picture number two as the cover and number four to put it on the bottom of the back cover. For Soredemo, I didn’t get any guide from the book designer. I combined the the feel of the story with a touch of water paint. At first, I actually wanted to make Deguchi pulling Onoda’s hand to get out of the train, but it ended up looking like Deguchi forced Onoda to stay (with him). So I decided it’s Onoda who’s getting off the train by himself with Deguchi waiting on the platform.

Do you do the coloring with computer? How about the non-colored script?

I use SAI for coloring but for monochrome I usually draw by my hand until the inking, then I do the tone using photoshop.

Do you self-learned drawing?

Well, I at least bought a lot of ‘pose reference’ books often. When it comes to buy things, it feels great, doesn’t it? But when it comes to manga, we draw to tell our moe concept.. well, I love drawing moe concept, but the thing is- I’m not really good at drawing. I like thinking about moe stuff, I also like to combine colors (inside my head) but when I do, I have no desire to draw I, even though that’s the important part. There are often times when I feel like drawing is a handful. In short, I want to draw something that isn’t too troublesome.

But, isnt it because you’re doing manga seriously that it feels difficult?

Because I’m too serious I feel like the story can be boring. Not only the work but also the author (laughs). I often read comments saying my manga is ‘down to earth’. I guess it’s shown obviously in every each of my works

Sure, there are people who think like, “In real world, there’s no way a wakagashira can be as masochist as Yashiro”, but apart from that, Saezuru still gives an impression of it being realistic. In drawing the important men’s arms and muscles in your work, sensei has done your best. Getting into the story, the characters also put extra effort to look elegant. Despite the young age, in a positive sense, sensei’s works feels like having Showa* vibe.

(*SHOWA ERA: 1926~1989)

I’m no longer young, though (laughs). Maybe this is why my works often get called “JUNE”. Especially Saezuru, I think it really fits (JUNE concept).

Are you an organized person?

I’m actually a person who have no chill (laughs). But I have this side of myself who tend to see things as a whole, look at my surrounding then step on the brake. There is also a side of me that is so energetic in creating my own moe that I turn into a selfish person. I guess that’s also my flaw.

It seems like sensei is the type who has her own editorial meeting inside her head (laughs)

I wish it’s not true, but unfortunately, I’m the type of person who is embarrased to admit that I have a relationship with manga. Even until now I have yet told my close friends about this job (as BL mangaka). I’m not that kind of person who like to share or tell others about my moe situation inside my head. When my moe concept is being visualized in public I would scream, “Don’t look! But if you want to read it, I’d be happy”. Yes, I’m that kind of person.

I wonder if sensei’s works are the manifestation of sensei’s own self-contradictions..

[mosswillow]

Simple Silver - Dark!Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: You’ve been given a gift, one not many Omegas get. A bracelet that when worn by an Omega changes their scent ever so slightly. All you need to do is keep the bracelet on and he can��t find you.

Warnings: 18+ adult content, dark!, ABO (no mentions of knots, heat, or rutt.), general misogyny, noncon/dubcon, smut, vaginal fingering, oral (male receiving), violence, orgasm delay/denial, kidnapping (kinda), she spits in his face in this, possessive behavior.

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: This fic is a request from @leniram1890. Seriously, thank you so much. It’s everything I love to write and read and you just dropped it in my lap. Now that it’s done I want more…

by clicking keep reading you confirm that you are over the age of 18 and consent to reading mature content.

You’re infatuated with him. He stands tall, you guess at least six feet, and his smell; he smells like no Alpha you've ever encountered. There’s this look to him, unequivocally attractive but in a unique and confusing way that draws you in. His eyebrows lift slightly making his otherwise small and ordinary eyes the focal point of his face. He looks around the room with a focus and intensity that feels inhuman. You finger the small bracelet that holds your secret and walk behind him, your Omega instincts telling you to get close. You suddenly recognize where you are and what you’re doing. looking down to your hands, you stare horrified at the bracelet that was taken off without your noticing. you put it back on and sprint out of the building, not stopping until you’re behind the safety of your padlocked apartment door.

Your phone goes off and you answer, making up an excuse about food poisoning and promising to be in early the next day.

Your Alpha, it had to be him.

You’ve wondered what it would be like to meet your Alpha, if you would feel bad about hiding from them. You don’t feel bad, only upset with yourself for losing control. You almost gave up your whole life in one stupid moment.

The simple silver bracelet that sits on your wrist feels heavy and you look at it. It’s a chain that suppresses your true self and one that sets you free. It’s one you choose to wear because the alternative is a life looking over your shoulder; waiting for your Alpha to find and claim you. Your parents gave it to you the day you presented and it’s given you opportunities not many Omegas get. It changes your scent just enough to let you hide, giving you the ability to decide for yourself how you feel about your Alpha, to choose a life with him or to keep the life you’ve built for yourself.  

Your coworkers don’t waste time the next morning. One is already at your desk and two more walk up as you sit down.

“Ok, what did I miss?” you ask.

“Right when you left this scary looking Alpha started raging. Stark had to call in the avengers to get him to calm down.”

You act surprised, knitting your brows and leaning forward in fake interest.

“What happened?”

“Apparently He smelled his Omega but couldn’t find them.”

“Crazy.” you say, opening up your email and scrolling through.

Coworkers start dispercing and you let out a held breath. You get to work, having extra from the day before and lose yourself for several hours.

“That’s him.” whispers a voice and you look up at your coworker before following their eyes.

It’s him, your Alpha, and he’s walking straight toward you.

You try your best to stay focused on work and not give away the slight shaking of your hands as his scent hits your nose. He stops at your desk and you look up at his chest avoiding eye contact.

“What can I do for you mr…”

“Dr. Strange,” he pauses. “I’m sure you know what happened yesterday.”

“I don’t judge sir.”

He looks at you and leans on your desk.

“Ah, but you are judging. Spit it out then.”

You take your hands off of your keyboard and fold them over your chest.

“Omegas don’t have lives after they mate, I guess it doesn’t doesn’t feel fair to me.”

“What makes you think my Omega wouldn’t have a life?”

“You would let your Omega Work? Travel by themselves? Have their own bank account?”

He thrums his fingers on your desk.

“My Omega will have a good life, they need to know their place though. When I finally find them they won’t even be allowed to leave the house without permission.”

You bristle. “Well then, I’m glad you weren’t able to find them.”

He leans farther over your desk, his demeanor shifting into one of intimidation. You do everything you can not to cower back as his aggressive scent washes over you.

“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe your Omega is hiding from you, that’s what I would do if I was an Omega.” You finally make eye contact, staring into the stormy grey abyss of his irises and he leans forward even more.

“They better not be.”

“What would you do if you found out they were?”

His fist clenches and you can’t help but push your chair back a few inches. You see Tony walking toward you from the corner of your eye and stand up, pushing your pointer finger against his forehead.

“You sir, are one of the most obnoxious people I’ve ever met, and I work for Tony Stark,” you say.

His mouth opens in surprise and he stands up.

Tony makes it to you at just the right moment. “Hey now, stop harassing my assistant. We’re not having a repeat of yesterday, thank you.”

Strange narrows his eyes at you but doesn’t say anything as he follows Tony into his office.

You walk to the back of the grocery store, picking up a pint of icecream and hurrying to pay for it. Your day was long and the only thing you can think about is a hot bath. You don’t notice him until it’s too late. His smug face takes in your slightly messy appearance as you try to pass by him.

“Dinner, I assume. Your questionable behavior before is starting to make sense.”

You stare at him unsure how to respond and he tilts his head and smirks.

“I’m insinuating, dear, that your disrespectful behavior this morning was caused by a lack of adequate nutrition.”  

You readjust your shirt and let out a huff.

“I wonder,” you pause and smile sweetly. “How much shit did you have to consume in your ‘diet’ to become such an asshole?”

You pull out a pair of earphones and stick them in your ears, turning on your heel to pay for your dinner. He grabs your arm, pulling you close and tears out your headphones with his other hand.

“I’ve never met anyone who gets under my skin so easily, why do you make me so angry?” he sneers.

“Your anger is your responsibility,” you pull away, shaking slightly and holding back tears.

You can feel his eyes watching you as you jump into a self checkout line to pay.  As soon as you reach your apartment you let the tears fall. You hate him. You hate his stupid face and egotistical personality. You hate that you react to him, that your nature makes your knees go weak when you’re around him. You hug your bracelet against your chest and let out a shaky breath. As long as the bracelet stays on you’re safe. You just need to keep it on, that’s it.

You stand in Tony’s office staring at a folder.

“Send a courier or another employee, I don’t want to do it.”

Tony raises his eyebrows in shock at your sudden and uncharacteristic outburst.

“I need someone I trust to drop them off, Is there some reason you can’t do it?”

“I just don’t get along with Dr. Strange.”

“You’re dropping off a file, not going on a date,” he quips.

You take a deep breath and remind yourself that you love your job. It’s just a quick trip, drop it off and you’re done. It’s been a week since you saw him last, he doesn’t know who you are or he would already have come for you. Just a quick drop off, that’s it.

“I’m sorry sir. You’re right, I’m being unprofessional. I can do it.”

He waves you out and you call an uber riding it to what Tony described only as “The Sanctum”.  

You walk in and look around the large entry room, searching for someone who can help. It’s eerily quiet and you walk up a huge set of stars, wandering and looking at various museum-like displays until you’re on the top floor. The room is dark, the only light coming from a large round window. A stranger walks up and looks at you with a surprised expression.

“I’m sorry, I’m looking for Dr. Strange? I’m just dropping something off from Mr. Stark.”

“Ah of course, I’m Wong.” He says holding out his hand.

You reach out and take his hand and he looks at your wrist, grabbing onto your bracelet and pulling it off.

“I haven't seen one of these in a long time.” he examines the bracelet closely.

“That’s mine, give it back please.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re hiding your designation.”

“My Alpha is a cruel man, please give it back. I need it now.” you say urgently.

“Hey, nobody will hurt you here. Who is this Alpha?”

You start shaking and reach out again trying to take the bracelet back from him.

“Wong, I… Oh no, not you again,” Stephen says from an open doorway, his face turning into a scowl.

You grab the bracelet and push it on your wrist. It’s too late though, Stephens eyes widen in recognition as your scent hits him.

You bolt. You know you won’t make it out so you pull at the first door you find, slamming it closed and locking it.

The banging starts almost immediately.  “OMEGA, OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!” he yells.

“Don’t do this, please. I don’t want this. I need more time. Don’t force me, please,” you cry.

Sparks start flying in a circle in front of your eyes and your Alpha is suddenly walking through a portal. You look around, seeing a second door and yanking it open. Something catches your leg and you’re pulled backwards by what looks like a glowing rope.

“You knew I was your Alpha the whole time.” he says, moving his body to sit on your middle.

You bite your tongue and glare at him.

“Answer me!” He yells, grabbing your arms and pushing them above you.

His face is only inches from your own and you spit without thinking. He lets go of your hands and sits back, wiping the wetness from his face before staring at his wet hand.

“This explains everything, catching your scent, the extreme annoyance at your lack of respect, the anger I felt at the thought of you not eating like you should.”

He grabs your shirt, ripping it down the middle and causing buttons to fly through the air. Goosebumps appear over your skin and you shiver from both fear and the cold. He flips you over roughly, pulling off your shirt all the way. His hand roams to your mating gland. He leans over and breathes in, kissing it gently.

“Fuck you,” you say through clenched teeth.

He stops and waits until you’re done shaking.

“Why aren’t you biting me?” you whisper.

“You said you wanted time.”

He stands, pulling you up with him and makes a circle with his finger, opening up a portal in front of you. His hand is on your back pushing you through and when you turn around you're alone in what looks like a bedroom. Immediately, you run and try the door, opening it and sprinting out. The breath is knocked out of you as someone promptly slams you into a wall. You start coughing as the pain radiates through your body, then you’re falling onto a soft bed in the same room as before. After a few minutes of coughing you stand and run again, trying the window this time and just like before you’re caught and pushed through a portal back to the same room. You keep trying until you’re completely out of places to run, until your energy, both emotional and physical, is depleted.

The moment you finally give up a portal opens on your right and Stephen walks through.

It would have been easier if he had just bitten and fucked you right away. Letting you run over and over just to squash your hope is even more cruel, like a sick joke where he is the only person privy to the punchline. You stand in the middle of the room with your eyes down and wait for the inevitable.

He walks around you slowly and with each methodical step your anxiety grows until your knees buckle and you drop to the ground, crying into your hands. He stops and crouches in front of you, putting his finger under your chin and raising it slowly until you look him in the face. He lets go and keeps eye contact as he reaches between your legs and almost too gently runs his finger over your pussy. His eyes bore into you as his hand slowly becomes more and more noticeable above your clothes.

“I hate you.” you whisper as he pushes your legs apart.

He slides his hand into your pants and continues to rub over your clit, now making quick circles. His finger dips in your heat and you whimper involuntarily. You close your eyes as the sensations start to build and when you’re about to go over the line he stops. Your eyes shoot open and he smirks.

“It’s important you understand a few things.”

You aren’t expecting it, for him to suddenly pull his hand back and slap you across the face. You’re not prepared for the force behind his hand. How it makes your entire face sting, the pain radiating down your neck and shoulder. You grasp your cheek and bite your lip to avoid crying.

“I own you.” He slides his hand down to your pussy again.

“I own your pleasure.” He slides his hand up to your breast, pushing your bra down and pinching your nipple harshly. “And your pain.”

He backs away and crosses his arms, motioning with his head at the remaining clothes on your body. You slowly rise and remove your pants and underwear, standing in front of him fully naked.

His hand roams to your neck and he holds it gently.

“Hate me all you want.”

His hand constricts slightly around your throat.

“But don’t you dare run from me.”

His hand tightens again.

“Or hide.”

He keeps his hand on your throat and pushes you back to the bed until you’re lying on your back with him above you. His other hand reaches to your legs and taps between them gently. He puts his cheek against yours when you don’t move.

“Open Omega, and don’t you dare close those legs.”

He lets go of your neck when you relax your legs, backing away and unbuckling his pants.

“You don’t even like me,” you remark.

“I didn’t like who you were pretending to be.”

He walks over so that his sizable dick sits in front of your face.

“Suck,” he commands.

You suck on the tip without complaint and he grabs the back of your head and thrusts a few times before pulling out and patting your cheek.

“A much better use for your sharp tongue.”

You bite back a retort and look away as he positions himself in between your legs and pushes himself in with one forceful thrust. You let out a whimper and reach out your arms around him in response. He grabs your shoulders and ruts into you.

“This is where you belong Omega,” he wipes a tear from your cheek, a stark contrast to the painful pace of his thrusts.

“You.” he thrusts. “Belong,” The force starts to push you up on the bed. “ To me!”

He flips you suddenly and fucks you again from behind, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. A warm hand brushes over your mating gland and you feel his breath against your back. Stars appear before your eyes as he bites, your entire body consumed with the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure. It pushes you into an intense orgasm that leaves you shaking from the adrenaline.

“Understand?”

You nod and he slides into bed next to you and kisses between your shoulder blades. You look over at his discarded clothes, noticing the gleam of your bracelet poking out of a pocket.

“Were you serious when you said you wouldn’t let your Omega out of the house?”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve actually had a change of heart.”

He peppers kisses across your neck and back.

“You, my adventurous Omega, won’t even leave this room without me by your side.”

You try to move but he holds you close, effectively chaining you to him. You blink back a tear and shift closer to him, letting yourself relax into his arms.

“There you go, let go and accept it.”

“Never,” you say between choked sobs.

His hand roams up your body, exploring every bit.

“We’ll see.”

[chaotic-jjk-fiction]

The Surrogate: Nanami Kento x Reader x Gojo Satoru

Please be warned that this piece is 4.3k words

I am willing to write a part two if you guys like it 

TW: Pregnancy, Artificial insemination, Morning sickness, Surrogacy   

You were tight on money, you couldn’t deny that. Sometimes you had to pick between paying rent and eating, but that was just how it was living in Tokyo. You had just graduated from university last year, and finding work wasn’t easy. One night when you and your friends were hanging out and one of them jokingly brought up the idea of becoming a surrogate to make some money. You all laughed at the idea then, but a few months after that conversation took place you found yourself googling the surrogacy processes and the money that could be made. While surrogacy was not actually illegal in Japan but it was still frowned upon by many, however, this wasn’t going to stop you.   

Now you were filling out your application to become a surrogate mother. You went through all of the agency’s testing and formal legal work and they told you that they would notify you if you were chosen by a family. All you could do now was wait and see. You had almost forgotten about your application when you got an email explaining that you had been selected by a couple and that a meeting needed to be scheduled so that both parties could meet and decide if they wanted to continue. You quickly replied with all of the dates and time that worked for you and internally jumped with joy that things were actually working out, much quicker than you had expected. 

The meeting time was also set quickly and you found yourself growing nervous as the day approached and you had to remind yourself that this was no different from any job interview you had ever done. Finally the day had come and you were headed off to meet the family that you would potentially be carrying a baby for. You dressed in your best clothes and did your hair in a way that you hoped would impress them, you knew that if they were able to afford surrogacy, they were probably of high status. The meeting was at the agency and one of their doctors would be there to explain everything to both parties and help everyone feel comfortable. When you made it to the agency you were escorted into an office type room with a desk and three chairs. Two of them were closer together, and the third was more off to the side and you guessed that one was for you, and the other two were for the couple. You sat down in the chair off to side your hands folded in your lap as you looked around the room. You jumped when you heard the door open and you turned around to see two men enter the room. One man was obviously the doctor and the other one you assumed was the husband in the couple. The doctor went and sat down on the other side of the desk, and you stood up and bowed to the man in a tan suite. He was pretty tall, and you weren't going to lie, he was making you feel a bit intimidated. He bowed back to you. 

“My name is Nanami Kento” he said very formally, “Thank you for meeting with us, and I apologize that my partner is late.” You were a little taken back by how formal he was, but then again it was what you were expecting. 

“My name is y/n'' your voice wavered a bit, “and the pleasure is mine.” You two bowed again, and then he took his seat and you followed. There was an awkward silence in the air and you just tried to focus on your hands which laid in your lap and not the intimidating man sitting in the chair a little ways away from you. Five minutes passed before the door slammed open and you jumped in surprise, whipping your head around to see who had busted in. A man with white hair and sunglasses stood in the doorway. 

“Sit down” Nanami said in a stern voice, “your late Satoru.” The man in the door frame made his way over to the chair next to him and sat down before turning to you, 

“The name’s Gojo Satoru'' he stated and then turned back around to face the doctor. You were a little shocked, but you also turned back to face the doctor. You noted the wedding rings on their hands and you realize that they were the married couple that you would be potentially carrying a baby for. It made sense, obviously they couldn’t have a child together, and it made you hope that this worked out. The doctor soon began his speech on how surrogacy works, explaining  how you would be artificially inseminated with a semen sample that the men provided. You would then be monitored closely throughout your pregnancy and updates would be provided for Nanami and Gojo. They would pay any medical bills that were related to the pregnancy, and how the three of you could work out specific details on which doctor you would see and which hospital you would give birth as you pleased. You just sat there silently nodding every now and again to show that you were listening to what was being said. The thought of actually carrying a baby inside of you for nine months was intimidating, but you really needed the money. After the doctor had finished his part of the meeting he then opened the floor to questions and open discussion. You really didn’t know what to say, and you were glad when Nanami pulled out a notebook and began asking the doctor questions and taking notes. You felt so unprepared compared to them. After he was done interrogating the doctor, he turned to you and you panicked a little about what he was going to ask. 

“Thank you again for meeting us here today” he started off formally “Would you mind if I asked you some questions?” You nodded, 

“Of course not.” He looked down at the page of questions decide which one to ask first, before finally deciding to start with your relationship status. You explained to them that you hadn’t been in a relationship since you were in your first year of university. He went on asking questions about family history and health, and other stuff along that line, you answered every question to best of your ability. You noticed that his husband, Gojo appeared to be antsy and trying not to start bouncing off the walls. You wondered how these two had ended up together. After Nanami had gone through everything he had to written down, he asked you had any questions for them to which you responded, 

“I only have one,” you paused a moment before continuing “What brought you two to deciding that you wanted a child” Nanami looked back at Gojo before looking back to you 

“Well” he started before getting cut off be his husband 

“Because we work with kids all day and seeing them all grow up and mature makes me want to have a kid of my own to help grow and mature” Gojo exclaimed “Plus babies are cute as hell” You couldn’t help but giggle at his last statement, Nanami however just shook his head. 

“Ok” you said “So far I’m feeling good about going through with this. You two seem like a wonderful couple.” Both of them looked at you smiling, and a grin broke out on Gojo’s face. Nanami nodded in a very business like manner, 

“Before we sign any papers” he interrupted “We have a few terms and conditions” you smiled and nodded and he went on

“We would like to be at most, if not all of your ultrasounds” he explained

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable” you chirped 

“We would also like to see your living accommodations, we need to know that our baby is being cared for properly, even before they are born” you paused for a moment before answering. 

“That can be arranged,” you said slowly. And just you were signing the legal papers that set your fate in stone, setting a date to get inseminated, shaking hands with Nanami and Gojo, and then you were on your way back home.    

Your appointment to be inseminated at the clinic was fast approaching and you were a tab bit anxious, but you were also pretty giddy. You were happy that you could give such a sweet couple the baby they wanted. Some time passed, and the next thing you knew you found yourself seated in the procedural chair, your legs in the stirrups watching a doctor pull on gloves before she took the odd syringe with a long thin tube on it and held it up.

“Ok” she said “I need you to try and relax as much as you can and just take a deep breath. '' You did as she said and tried hard not to pay attention to how uncomfortable it was. She slowly injected the liquid, which you knew was sperm through the tube, and you found yourself wondering which man's sperm it was. 

“I’m all done” she informed you as she moved to clean up “We’ll be seeing you in a week to see if an egg fertilized” you nodded as you redressed. Two weeks and few days later you found yourself back in the doctors office with Nanami and Gojo waiting to see if you were pregnant or not. The room was tense as the doctor looked over your blood work in his hands

“Your hCG level is at 21” the doctor stated. All three of you were on the edge of your seats, “Congratulations. You're pregnant” he said looking from the paper up to you. She let out a sigh of relief, you felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. What you weren't expecting was to suddenly be lifted out of your chair and hugged, the action causing you to let out a squeak of surprise. 

“Put her down Satoru” Nanami commanded. You were then set down so that you were standing on the floor looking up at Gojo who had apparently been the one to pick you up. Nanami stood up and took your hand 

“I’m very glad that this worked out” he said a little stiffly “I look forward to what’s to come for all of us.” You nodded happily with a big smile on your face. He felt a smile tugging at his lips as he looked at your bright eyes and happy expression matching Gojo’s. 

“So, who is you obstetrician?” Nanami asked after the initial excitement had died down. You paused, looking down avoid eye contact

“I don’t have one” you said sheepishly. The two men exchanged glances before looking back at you, your head still down. 

“We can set an appointment up for you with one of our choosing if that’s alright with you” Nanami offered. Gojo quick budded in with

“And we’ll pay for it of course.” You looked back up at them, before you nodded

“That sounds great. Thank you so much”  

“It’s the least we could do” Nanami said with a soft smile on his face “You are carrying our child after all.” Gojo made his way to his husband's side and took his arm and pressed a soft kiss to kiss cheek. It made you happy to see the two of them so happy, you were feeling pretty good about your decision to become their surrogate. Two weeks later they called you to set up your six week ultrasound with a doctor they had picked in Tokyo, that when you looked her up seemed pretty high scale and you were glad you didn’t have to pay. All three of you set a date that would work, with the agreement that after the appointment they would come over to your house and check it out and you agreed. They also asked about how you were feeling so far, you explained to them that so far your breast had been pretty tender, you were definitely bloated, however, you hadn’t had any morning sickness yet. They seemed relieved to hear that you were doing good. You hung up after setting the date for your first ultrasound and the waiting process began again. Two more weeks passed until it was finally the day of your appointment. You had developed morning sickness around the middle of week five and you found it was mostly triggered by certain smells. Your breast, you were pretty sure had also gotten a bit bigger.

 You took the bus to the station closest to where the doctor was before walking the rest of the way to the building. You took a seat in the waiting room after filling out the patient intake form. It was a fancy office, that was for sure. Nanami and Gojo soon walked in and took a seat on either side of you so that you were in the middle of them, you felt so small. A nurse called your name and you stood up and followed her, the two of them close behind you. The room she took you to was pretty big, it had two chairs against one wall, an examination table in the middle of the room, and an ultrasound next to the examination table along with a rolling stool for the doctor. You laid down on the table as a technician put a little blue pee pad type thing on your thighs before pulling down your pants a bit and instructed you to pull up your shirt, which you did. 

“The gel will be cold” she warned you before squirting it onto your belly, it was indeed cold. She took the ultrasound wand and pressed it to your belly before starting to move it round, spreading out the gel. All three of you stared at the monitor with baited breath, and there it was, a fuzzy, little bean looking thing that was your baby. You looked over at Nanami and Gojo who were sitting in the chairs to see Gojo holding his husbands had tightly eyes wide looking at the screen. 

“I’m going to see if we can find the heartbeat now” she informed you. You looked back over to the monitor, watching the little bean. You watched as she moved the wand, and tapped some buttons, trying to capture the little beating heart she pointed out to you. You felt like you wanted to cry. You were actually carrying a tiny precursor to a human being, with its own, functioning, heart. There were a few more less enjoyable parts to your appointment, but you guessed you were going to have to get used to people looking at your “lady parts.” You walked out of the office with Gojo and Nanami at your side, Gojo was holding a file of your ultrasound, along with some pamphlets from the doctor about what to expect in the first trimester.

“Are you ready for us to go to your house?” Nanami turned to you and asked. You froze, you had completely forgotten that you’d agreed to that, you gulped, then nodded 

“I’m ready” you informed them. They led you to a car and Nanami helped you into it, although that really wasn’t necessary in your mind. You were surprised to find that the car had a driver, who was introduced to you as Ijichi Kiyotaka. He asked for your address and you gave it to him, although you felt embarrassed saying it out loud, and the silence in the car wasn’t helping. On the ride to your apartment you were seated in the middle seat, between Gojo and Nanami. About halfway to your house, Gojo opened up the folder and pulled out the sonogram pictures that had been taken, before going on a little rant about how cute they were going to be while looking at the image.   

Before you knew it, the car had pulled up in front of your hole in the wall apartment building and all three of you were getting out and making your way up stairs to your floor. The first thing the two men noticed was that the building didn’t have an elevator, that didn’t seem good as you would most likely have trouble with stairs later in your pregnancy, especially since you lived on the fourth floor. One they made it up to your unit you unlocked the door, but before opening you turned around to face them

“I apologize for any mess in advance” you said and then pushed the door open. All three of you took off your shoes before entering the actual living space. The thing that stood out most to them was how little furniture there was. You had a sofa and a coffee table in the small room, along with a bookshelf and a little rug but nothing else in your living room. The kitchen was practically non-existent. You had a fridge, a microwave, a rice maker, and a small gas stove next to an equally small sink. Nanami looked around skeptically and Gojo headed straight for the fridge, opening to find nothing but a few kinds of convenience store pickles. 

“What do you eat?” he exclaimed, obviously shocked at the lack of food, he then proceeded to go through the few cabinets finding a bag or rice and some instant miso soup mix. He looked at you in shock and you could feel your cheeks turning red with guilt. 

“Is this all you have?” Nanami asked, looking at you. You looked from one to the other, before letting your eyes rest on the floor. 

“Money has been tight recently,” you explained. Both of them looked from you to the other one, they seemed to reach a silent, mutual agreement before Nanami spoke. 

“You do know that this is not an ok environment to be pregnant in, right?” He looked genuinely concerned and it just made you feel so much worse. 

“I know it’s not ideal” you said, “but I can’t afford anything else.” There was a gap of silence until Gojo spoke up, 

“You could stay in our guest room” he exclaimed “we never use it, and it would allow us to keep an even closer eye on you” He was basically jumping up and down about his new idea. 

“I couldn’t” you stammered “I don’t want to impose on your life” Nanami thought for a moment before expressing his opinion. 

“Satoru is right'' he paused, “I would be better for you to stay with us, and it would be better for our peace of mind as well.” You were at a loss for words, could you really take their offer? Was that even an ethical thing to do? 

“Please” Gojo whined putting his face in front of yours. You took a moment before sighing 

“Ok” you said “it still doesn't feel quite right to me” you added. You looked from Gojo to Nanami, waiting to see their reaction. Nanami nodded, 

“I understand. But please do not feel as though you are intruding, we are welcoming you” he reassured. Gojo put his hands on your shoulder and pushed you forward from behind. 

“Go hurry and pack” he beamed, you staggered forward a bit before whipping around to face him. 

“Right now?” you gawked. Gojo just nodded and smiled before ushering you forward again. You looked to Nanami to see what he had to say. 

“I mean there’s no reason to delay your move” he remarked. And so it was decided, you were going to move in with them tonight. You went to your room and pulled out a duffle bag and began to pack the clothes you thought you would want most. Before you went back out to them, you also packed your favorite pillow and blanket, along with your toiletries. You made your way out back to the living room where they were still just standing in the middle of the room. Nanami took the bag, and Gojo took your arm, and you all walked back down to the car. Nanami placed your bag in the trunk and got into the car. The ride to their house was fairly long, and you found yourself drifting off, your head starting to fall on to Gojo’s shoulder. He just watched as you fell asleep, making no move to push your head off. 

“We’re here” Gojo announced, waking you up from your nap. You got out of the car and came face to face with an upscale apartment building the likes of which you’d never seen. You were in shock as they led you to the elevator and up to their floor, which you could only access with a key.

“We’ll make sure to get you a key tomorrow,” Nanami commented, before pressing the button for the fifth floor. You just nodded in awe. Once the elevator reached the fifth floor the two of them stepped out and into a little hallway type room with  the door to their actual apartment a few feet away. Nanami took out another key and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a beautiful entrance room. You walked inside and took off your shoes before allowing yourself to step inside and marvel at the magnificent furniture and design of the living room. 

“Let me show you to your room” Gojo proclaimed as he took your arm and led you through the living room, which you could now see was connected to their kitchen, down a hallway and past a few doors before he stopped in front of one. He flung open the door to reveal a room as big as your old living room with a twin bed, a bookshelf, a dresser with a mirror, and a little sofa in one corner. The thing you found most amazing, was the huge window that allowed you to look out onto Tokyo. Nanami placed your duffle bag down on the sofa before turning to see you in a state of shock. 

“I hope you like the room” he said “your bathroom is right across the hallway, feel free to put your toiletries in there. Satoru and I’s bedroom is upstairs” You nodded at his words, internally screaming at the fact that the apartment had an upstairs. 

“We’ll leave you to get settled” he added “Please come out when you're ready and have some food with us.”

“Ok” you agreed and watched as the two men left the room, closing the door behind them. You flopped down against the bed and relished in how soft the mattress and sheets were. After just allowing yourself to process the events of today, you got up and started to put your clothes into the drawers before you laid your blanket and pillow on the bed. You took your toiletries out of the duffle bag and set them back down on the sofa, you then placed the now empty bag on the bottom of the bookshelf. You picked up the items off of the sofa and left your room and opened the door to a wonderful bathroom with a separate shower and bath so that one could wash off before getting into the tub. The toilet was also fancy. You put your bathing products on the shelves cut into the shower wall and set your toothbrush along other oral hygiene products and your hair brush into their respective places on the sink counter. After taking one last look around the room you made your way to the kitchen where Gojo was sitting on a high bar stool at the counter and Nanami was standing behind the counter cooking something. You took a seat one bar stool away from Gojo and looked at what Nanami was making. It looked like he was putting together rice with a fried egg, topped with, what you were guessing was salmon leftover from their dinner last night, and nori. It looked amazing and you were excited to be able to eat it, because, in all honesty, you were incredibly hungry. Nanami set a bowl in front of you along with a pair of chopsticks. 

“Itadakimasu” you and Gojo say in unison. You take your chopsticks, and pick up a clump of rice with salmon on it. Before you can place the bite in your mouth, you feel bile rising in your throat. You carefully set down your chopsticks and cover your mouth before hopping off the stool and speed walking to the bathroom where you promptly threw up the contents of your stomach. You looked up to see Nanami and Gojo standing in the doorway, a look of concern on their faces.

“I’m sorry” you apologized, your voice rough from the acid. You gagged again feeling more bile coming up your throat and you turned back to the toilet bowl and threw up once more. You were breathing heavy, your eyes were watering, and your face felt hot. It wasn’t until you calmed down a bit before you realized that Gojo was kneeling behind you with hand on the small of your back. He quickly supported you as you stood noticing how shaky you were. 

“I’m sorry” you apologized again, flushing the toilet. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it” Gojo chirped, “You're pregnant.” He helped you two the sink where you washed your mouth with mouthwash. You looked over to Nanami who was still standing in the doorway,

“Thank you for cooking dinner, I’m sure that it’s delicious, but right now I think I really just need sleep” you explained. He nodded in understanding

“Of course,” he said “I understand. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, Satoru and I will be staying up a bit later.” You bowed your head and thanked them again before going into your room, changing into your pajamas and laying down. You found it fairly easy to fall asleep thanks to how tired you were, and how comfortable the bed was.

[guardianofrivendell]

Dwarves Always Knock Thrice

Requested: Yes and no. @estethell​ challenged me to write a modern AU with Fíli and Kíli knocking at the reader’s door instead of Bilbo’s by mistake. I interpreted it as a ‘what if Fíli and Kíli end up in modern day Europe?’

Warnings: none so far, I wrote this with a fem!reader (sorry! I try to write more gender neutral in the future, I promise)

Summary: What if one day your favorite fictional characters knock on your door? A modern AU with a twist! (any similarities to what I would do in this case are purely coincidental 😏)

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. There are hundreds of fics like this one. But none of them were written by me and my weird sense of humor 😆 Depending on the response I’ll turn this into a multichapter fic, if not this will stay a standalone oneshot. 

Humming a rather cheerful tune, you pressed the button on top of the coffee machine and your morning fuel started dripping into your favorite cup. You waited patiently until the foam reached the edge and then you turned the machine off. With the cup held between your hands, you inhaled deeply. Nothing like the smell of fresh coffee for a perfect start of the day.

A few minutes ago your boyfriend had left to go to work, only to see him again by the end of next week. He was going on a citytrip with your group of friends for a few days, which had been planned ages ago.  You were supposed to go with them, but unfortunately, you didn’t have any vacation days left. No, it was back to work for you instead. 

Not that you minded. You loved your job, and you were lucky enough to be able to work from home when you wanted to. It didn’t actually feel like work that way. At least you had decent coffee, you didn’t have to dress up and you could take a break whenever you wanted.  And now with your boyfriend gone for the week, you had no interruptions and lots of quiet evenings to look forward to. Cheers to that, you thought while you sipped at your coffee. 

The dinner table became your makeshift workplace, coffee within reach. There were no video meetings scheduled today so you were wearing your favorite pair of black leggings and a long oversized knitted sweater, with fluffy socks on your feet to complete your comfy outfit. 

You moved your computer mouse and your laptop sprung to life.  James, your Sphynx cat, hopped on the table and pushed his head in your hand, demanding cuddles.

“Another day at the office, how dreadful,” you smiled, petting him behind his ear. James purred and started to bathe himself. 

He was a Sphynx cat, so there was no fur. Nothing but flawless pink skin, soft to the touch. It almost felt like petting a warm peach. You chuckled at the comparison, and James stopped his grooming to look at you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry your Majesty. I’ll let you to it.” 

You booped his nose and got to work. 

After a day of sifting through emails, processing data and editing documents and spreadsheets, you felt utterly exhausted. A phrase your boyfriend likes to throw at you on these moments suddenly came to mind, ‘How can you be so tired when you’ve done nothing but sit down on your ass all day?’ Always the charmer.

You stood up, raised your arms above your head and stretched, groaning in the process. You froze when your stretch session was interrupted by three knocks on your front door. 

“Who still knocks these days?”

It was almost 6 pm, slowly turning dark outside and you’d let the shutters down about an hour ago. It was something you did as soon as the sun was setting. It was silly really, but it made you feel safe. 

But now it prevented you from seeing who was at your door.

The neighbours from down the street wouldn’t come by for a visit, they were the kind of people that liked to keep to themselves. Your parents would call first, so… a polite burglar perhaps?

You couldn’t be too careful these days, especially now, when you were alone, so you went to your intercom first to see who was at the door. 

The camera didn’t show anyone. You could see a part of your front yard, but that was it. Strange… You thought you could hear voices, so maybe there was someone at the door after all. Maybe someone had driven their car into the ditch. Wouldn’t be the first time. You lived in the countryside, with roads where only one car at a time could pass, with ditches on both sides. A challenge for city people, and the occasional daredevil usually had to be towed out of said ditch. 

What’s life without a little risk, you thought, and made your way to the front door. You weren’t the one to turn away from people in need. It would probably get yourself killed one day, you were too kind and gullible and people tended to take advantage of that. 

Another three knocks sounded, a little louder this time and you swung the door open. 

“Finally!”

Your boyfriend rushed inside and shot up the stairs. When you looked to your driveway, you saw his car with the lights on, the motor still running. He was running late again. As usual. 

After a few minutes he thundered down the stairs, his hiking boots in hand. 

“Almost forgot these,” he said while lifting them. He kissed your cheek and ran off.  You sighed. “See you next week, sweet. I’ll miss you.” 

Sarcasm was your way to cope, to learn how to deal with the lack of love and care. Because who were you kidding? He wouldn't miss you. 

You shuffled to your kitchen, in need of something hot. To drink, that is. And while the coffee machine filled your cup for the second time that day, you rubbed your face with your hands trying to think of how you had ended up in this situation in the first place… 

“Just try and enjoy a week by yourself,” you whispered. 

You were about to take a first sip when three knocks sounded for the third time.

“Seriously?”

When you opened the door, you couldn’t stop the massive eyeroll when you saw it was your boyfriend again. 

“Hand me the reservation papers of the hotel, will you? I forgot them and I need the address for the gps,” he said. 

“I sent it in an email to Tom, and I put the address in the gps system yesterday. Now go, you’re late enough as it is. Call me when you get there okay?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek again. 

“Bye! Enjoy your week by yourself!” “I will, don’t worry,” you smiled. 

Before you closed the door there was a bright white flash. You covered your ears on instinct, something you always did when there was a thunderstorm. 

“That was very closeby,” your boyfriend gasped. “They didn’t say anything about a thunderstorm tonight.” “I’m not sure that was lightning… there was no thunder?” “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

And with those words your boyfriend left for the second time that night. 

After closing the front door with a small heart, you tried to calm yourself.  You were terrified of thunderstorms, and you really didn’t feel like going through one when you were on your own. Let’s just hope he was right and it was nothing, you thought. 

Your coffee…! Taking a sip from the now lukewarm drink, you pondered if you would make it into an Irish or Italian one. Heaven knows you deserved it, right?  With your coffee still in hand you made your way over to the liquor cabinet, only to be interrupted by yet another pair of knocks on the front door.

“I’m going to kill him,” you murmured while you walked into the hallway. “What could he have possibly forgotten this time?”

You swung the door open with a little too much force, but you couldn’t care less by that time. The small amount of patience you had left was already out of the window and you just wanted to enjoy your spiked coffee. 

“What did you forg-?!”

Your voice got caught in your throat when your eyes fell on your visitors. Visitors. As in plural. Definitely not your boyfriend.  You recognized them immediately, there was no doubt who they were but… it couldn’t be! This was simply impossible!

In your shock you forgot you were holding your cup of coffee and it slipped out of your hand. The cup completely shattered on the floor but you hardly noticed. 

Because right in front of you, in the light of your porch light at your very own doorstep, stood Fíli and Kíli. 

As in Fíli and Kíli, nephews to Thorin, King under the Mountain. As in Fíli and Kíli, characters from The Hobbit. Fictional characters. With a heavy emphasis on ‘fictional’. Made up by Tolkien. 

So how the hell was it possible that they were standing in front of you, alive and well?

The two Durin brothers were a bit taken aback so it seemed, because they too remained silent at first. After a few awkward seconds Kíli was the one who decided to speak up instead of his older brother. He was clutching his sword and quiver, just like he did in the movie. 

“Kíli,” he began. He was side eyeing his brother who was still staring at you, and smacked Fíli’s chest when he didn’t respond.  “What?”  “Kíli,” Kíli repeated, pointing at himself and then at his brother who finally caught on. “And Fíli.” “At your service,” they both continued, bowing deeply.

“Y/N, at yours,” you responded without a second thought.  Kíli’s face split into a wide smile.

“We’re looking for master Boggins!” “Yeah, I kind of expected you to say that,” you murmured, but they heard you. “Oh, so you’re a seer?” Kíli assumed excitedly. “No! No, I’m just… me. But there is no mister Baggins here,” you said, correcting Kíli. “Are we at the wrong house?” Fíli wondered.   “I’m afraid so.” “Well… can you help us find him?” Kíli looked at you expectantly.

You sighed. “I would but, I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that.”

Both of their faces fell. They were so in character, if someone was pranking you, they did one hell of a job in finding these two actors. And their costumes were spot on, from the carvings on Kíli’s bow to the colour of Fíli’s fur coat. It was scaringly accurate… They looked so much like Dean and Aidan’s version, but not quite. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had the feeling they were real. They were Fíli and Kíli, sons of Dís. 

Fíli stared at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Oh. Now, if you weren’t already a little enamored by their looks, the title he just gave you would have. You weren’t exactly used to endearments. 

Not that Fíli had meant as an endearment but you wouldn’t mind if they called you my lady for the rest of your life. It just made you grow a couple of inches. 

“I’m probably going to regret this, but… come in.”  You stepped aside so they could enter the hallway. 

The heavy boots they were wearing made scratching sounds on your tile floor and your mind immediately went to your delicate wooden floors in the rest of your house. 

You were going to sound extremely bossy and uptight but you had to think of your interior. 

“Could you both maybe take off your boots?”

The two brothers looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. 

“If you want?” Fíli asked you. 

“Please.”

You took the swords and quiver from Kíli so he had his hands free and placed them in a corner of your hallway. Fíli followed your example and added his own weapons to the pile. 

“I trust you not to attack us when we’re unarmed,” he winked at you. 

You smiled back at him, knowing all too well he still had some smaller knives hidden somewhere.  For a moment the thought of reenacting the knife scene in Mirkwood crossed your mind, but you thought better of it. He wouldn’t find it as funny as you thought it was and you’d probably lose a finger or two if you tried to take a knife from him. It was best not to challenge him. Yet. 

Once their boots were placed neatly next to their weapons, you motioned them to follow you into your living room. Your eyes drifted to the shards of your coffee mug and the spilled coffee, you needed to clean it up but it simply had to wait.

“I don’t really know how to begin explaining all this,” you said, while waving your arms around you, “but it might be a good idea if we sit down?”

You gestured towards the sitting area and both brothers took a seat on your couch.

It seemed like they didn’t know where to look first.  Their eyes wandered to your tv, surround system, laptop, aquarium, … 

Kíli whispered something in Fíli’s ear, to which the older brother shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you want to drink anything?” you suggested. “I have water, milk, beer, …”

Their eyes lit up when you mentioned the beer, so you nodded your head. 

“Beer it is, although I need to warn you. It’s Belgian beer, so it’s probably a lot stronger than what you guys are used to.”

You mentally facepalmed at your last sentence, why did you even mention that? They didn’t realize they were in a different universe, so mentioning your country would give them zero information. 

“I think we can handle it just fine,” Kíli commented with a smirk. Fíli nodded in agreement.  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

After another look at the dwarves on your couch, you disappeared into your kitchen. You fetched two beer glasses out of the dishwasher and two bottles of beer from your fridge, before you noticed how much your hands were shaking.

Okay, Y/N, you need to calm down first… Easy to say when you have two dwarves sitting in your living room. Dwarves! And your favorite dwarves too.  How many times had you imagined this exact moment in your fantasies? In your dreams? 

Of course! That was it…!  You probably fell asleep at your laptop and you were dreaming.  But then why did it feel so real?

Maybe someone was pranking you after all? Nah, that wasn’t likely. Nobody knew you were even in the Tolkien fandom. Let alone who your favorite characters were. 

So it must be a dream... But if you were dreaming, they definitely would have been an exact copy of the movie Fíli and Kíli. As in, Dean and Aidan in costumes. The ones sitting on your couch looked slightly different, still handsome - Mahal, did they look handsome - but you would probably refer to them as discount Dean and Aidan. 

Your small mental breakdown was interrupted when Kili started to scream. 

“What is that?!”

Quickly snatching the bottles and glasses in both of your hands, you hurried back to the Durin princes. 

When you entered your living room, you were met with quite the hilarious view. Tolkien had described Fíli and Kíli as fearless and courageous, but there was nothing courageous about their behaviour right now.Fíli was sitting with his legs pulled up and Kili half on Fili’s back, pointing at James who was trying to jump on Fili’s lap. 

“That’s James, my cat.”

“That’s a cat?!” Kíli yelled. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” you laughed, placing the glasses and bottles on the coffee table. “He’s a sphynx cat, he’s supposed to look like that. They don’t have fur.”

You called James and he immediately ran to you, so you could pick him up. He rubbed his head against your chin and started purring, happy to get some attention. 

You crouched down before the two princes.

“Go ahead, pet him. You don’t have to be scared.” “We’re not scared,” Kíli protested, puffing out his chest.  You smirked and rolled your eyes. “Of course not.”

They were wary at first, but eventually both brothers were petting James. Before you could stop him, James jumped out of your arms on Fíli’s lap and curled up against the fur of his coat. 

Fíli froze and tried his best not to let it show that he wasn’t comfortable with this at all. Next to him, Kíli had the hardest time keeping a straight face, biting his lip in an attempt to stifle his chuckles but his shoulders were already shaking with laughter. 

You poured their beer and placed it in front of them. 

“Like I said, it’s pretty strong so small sips. Do you want me to take James away?” Fíli shook his head. “I-it’s fine!”

You took a seat on your other couch and anxiously started to rub your thighs. 

“So… like I said, I don’t really know how to explain this but I think I know what happened to you.” “Wait… did something happen to us? I don’t understand?” Kíli asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Oh, right. They didn’t realise they were in a different universe right now. Maybe you should take a different approach. 

“Can you tell me what happened before you knocked on my door?”

Kíli took the two glasses and gave one to his brother before he took a gulp, humming appreciatively. 

“I like this,” he said. “And to answer your question, we traveled to the Shire and knocked on the door with the mark. And here we are!” “But… my door doesn’t have a mark?”

It was Fíli’s turn to roll his eyes. “Kee, you’re not telling the whole story. But you’re right about this,” he smiled while raising his glass, taking another sip. “This is good stuff.”

You chuckled when you saw some foam sticking to his mustache.  He raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s so funny?”

“I have enough beer in the fridge, you don’t have to save some for later,” you laughed, pointing at your own lip to get the message across. 

Fíli quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The movement made James shift in his lap and the Dwarf went rigid again.  You decided not to say anything about it, you figured maybe Fili didn’t like cats that much. Or just James. 

“So what did Kíli leave out?” “Your door wasn’t the first one we knocked on. There was a round, green door in the Shire. And that one had the mark of Gandalf. He’s a wizard.”

You nodded. So far it went exactly like it should. Shire, green door, mark. 

“But when we knocked on it, we found ourselves in a field all of a sudden. And your house was the only one around so we figured that was where we were supposed to be. Since Gandalf is a wizard, you never know what to expect.”

Okay, that was different. It almost sounded as if they went through a portal of some sort. Like a portkey? They touched the portkey and traveled to a different universe? But portkeys weren’t part of Middle Earth, that was Harry Potter. Did they have something similar?

“You’re not in Middle Earth anymore,” you said softly. 

Both brothers stared at you with wide eyes, their beer long forgotten. Kíli looked at his older brother, and pulled at his sleeve.

“What does she mean by that?”

Fíli kept his eyes fixed on your face, searching your features to see if you were lying. If you were trying to prank them. 

“It means that you traveled between different worlds. In my world, where you’re in right now, Middle Earth is fictional. A story. It doesn't exist. Just like my world doesn’t exist where you’re from.” “I don’t believe you,” Kíli said with a frown. 

You had expected this. It’s not like you would’ve believed them if you were in their place. 

“Look around,” you tried to explain, “you can see things you recognize. The furniture, me being a human, … But you can also see things that you don’t understand. They are from this world.”

“You said Middle Earth was a story to you?” Fíli asked you.  “Yes. There are tales about Middle Earth, and Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, the race of Men, … Orcs, wargs, goblins,” you explained, careful not to mention anything about their storyline or the one with the One Ring. “But I’ve never thought it could be real.”

They stayed silent for a few moments, letting it all sink in. 

“How… How do we get back to Middle Earth?” Fili wondered.  “I’m sorry, I really don’t know. But I’m going to help you find your way back. We’ll figure something out.” 

You played with your fingers, a telltale sign you were nervous.

“And in the meantime you can stay here... With me.”

A/N: There you go... This is the setup for a possible new multichapter fic if people are interested in it.   Just think of the two brothers in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, how the reader tries to cope with her fictional crush in her home and... how will they get back to Middle Earth? Would you be interested to read that? Let me know!  And of course let me know what you thought of this story :) 

A/N part 2: Sometimes tumblr switches paragraphs for no reason at all, if you notice this happened, send me a message! I’ll try and keep an eye on it myself, but some help is always appreciated.

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