#so um yes I wrote fanfic

[innytoes]

Sleepy prompts 👀 10 for Reggie/Carrie?

Set in the Nuclear Apocalypse Bunker AU.

After Reggie got better, things with Carrie got better too. Tía Victoria kept him under observation for another week, but she visited every day, bringing him food and talking to him. When it was just the two of them, she was different. Less tightly wound.

Reggie came back to the rest of the bunker and immediately got pulled into a Molina family group hug, and then another one with Luke and Alex (his parents frowning in the background). Even Trevor gave him a part on the back, smiling. Things were kind of weird between them, seeing as how Trevor kind of saved his life but also kind of broke the rules to do so.

So things settled down again. Reggie returned to his chores, returned to cracking jokes with Willie over the comms, returned to doing whatever he could to make himself useful around the bunker. But now, he got to joke and hang out with Carrie as well. And maybe even, you know, hold hands. They were taking things slow, since they literally had all the time in what was left in the world, but it was pretty awesome.

Which was why he was the one who was pulled aside by Julie. "Hey, have you noticed something off about Carrie?" she asked. For a second, he was offended, like 'she's suddenly likes you now' was something weird and off. But now that he thought about it, she had been more and more tired lately. And snappy, but not like before, not just to him. More like she was having trouble keeping it together with everyone.

"She's been kind of tired," he agreed.

"I'm worried about her," Julie said. "And I think someone should talk to her. Someone like her boyfriend."

He flushed. "Oh we... we haven't... it's not... We haven't labeled it yet." Julie gave him a knowing look. She was like the sister he always wanted, he loved her so much. "But yeah, I'll talk to her."

So, after dinner, that's what he did. Trevor was out... schmoozing, or something. He was usually over at the Mercers or the Pattersons or even the Molinas, or holed up in the comms room talking to people in other bunkers. So he could manage to slip into their pod pretty easily without anyone noticing.

Carrie was in her room. He'd never actually been in Carrie's room yet, and he smiled at how she made the sterile place her own, just like she'd made the pretty standard uniform her own. There were sparkly stars made from food packaging stuck to the walls and ceiling, and little paper origami flowers strung up, and all the sad metal railings had been draped with fabric.

Carrie herself was hunched over her desk in a posture Reggie was very familiar with. It was the same one she used to get in math class, before he started tutoring her. Frustrated but trying not to show it.

"Hey babe," he said quietly, and she whirled around, clutching... a science book to her chest? "Whatcha doing?"

"What are you doing here?" she snapped. But Reggie knew better than to be intimidated by that now.

"Just wanted to check in with you," he said, flopping on her bed. She looked like she wanted to say something about him messing up her bedding, but he just smiled at her. "Missed you. You've been holed up in your room after dinner these past few..." Now that he thought about it, almost as long as he'd been better. "Weeks."

"I've been busy," she said.

"Doing science homework?" he asked. They did get lessons, sometimes. A lot of it was improvised, between the adults here and adults from other bunkers when they had time. Music class from The Trevor Wilson kind of was the coolest thing ever. Ray taught them Spanish, Mr and Mrs Patterson taught them all kinds of stuff about history, modern history, politics... basically what lead up to them being stuck here. Like if the understood, they weren't doomed to repeat it.

The Mercers, when they could be torn away from their Top Secret Whatever in the Bunker taught them science-y stuff like chemistry and physics, and Tía Victoria taught them biology and medicine. But this book was way beyond what Victoria was teaching them. "You aiming for an internship with the Mercers?" he asked. If anyone could talk her way into that top secret lab, it was Carrie.

"Oh very funny, Reginald," Carrie snapped, throwing the book at his head. He dodged, flinching. "We both know I'm not fucking smart enough for that." Part of him wanted to run, but then he saw the unshed tears in Carrie's eyes.

"Babe, you're plenty smart," he soothed.

"No I'm not!" Carrie shouted. "When you got sick I didn't understand a word of Victoria's explanation, and I can't do math, and I heard Mrs Mercer tell Mr Mercer that it was a good thing I was pretty and healthy, so I could be a good wife to Alex and have plenty of babies to keep civilization going, because I was never going to be a scientist." She burst into tears, and Reggie gathered her up in a hug.

"I'm just so tired," she sobbed as he stroked her back. "I don't understand it and I keep rereading the same things and I'm just so tired."

"Okay first of all, fuck what the Mercers think," he said. "They've been stuck in here for years and they still haven't realised their son is gay as fuck." Okay maybe they'd all been helping cover up Alex' conversations with Willie, but it wasn't like he was that subtle. "Also, just like, ew. To all of that." Carrie sniffled her face buried against his chest.

"And second of all, who cares if you're not gonna be a scientist? There's more to rebuilding civilization than scientists." Carrie opened her mouth, probably to say something about being a... a broodmare or whatever creepy philosophy the Mercers had. "You know how to talk to any of the adults here, like an equal. You're literally the only one who understands Mr Patterson when he forgets he's not giving a university Philosophy class, or when figuring out what Mrs Patterson means when we're dissecting what went wrong with the world and politics and stuff."

"But that stuff is easy," she said.

"Yeah, to you!" Reggie hugged her close. "Babe, you're not a future scientist. You're like, the future President. You know how to talk to people, and get them to like you, and you know how they tick." He didn't mention that when she used her powers for evil, like when she'd been mad at him, she was pretty devastating as well. He was pretty sure she knew that. "The world doesn't just need scientists. We also need leaders."

Carrie swallowed hard, rubbing at her eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course," he said. He leaned down and nuzzled his nose against hers. "Besides, I have my hopes set on being First Husband." She laughed, before looking at him. He flushed when he realised the implications of what he just said.

"I think I can work with that," Carrie said, smiling at him. She sat up. "I should... I should make a list. Talk to Emily. See about connecting with all the other bunkers, start forming relationships with..."

"Okay, POTUS," he said, reeling her in and pulling her back onto the bed. "First, you are going to take a nap. You look exhausted, Carebear. The world, or what's left of it, will still be there for you to conquer tomorrow."

For a moment, he thought Carrie was going to argue with him. "Will you stay?" she asked instead.

"For as long as you want me too," he agreed.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐈 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!seamstress!Reader

SUMMARY — Madame Delacroix expands her business with a French seamstress and Violet is the first customer.

WORD COUNT — 6.2K

WARNINGS — 18+ NSFW MDNI, it’s just gay sex guys idk what to tell you, French dialogue used throughout (minimally but context helps explain)

NOTE — I feel obligated to tell you that this fic is in part inspired by a song I listen to on repeat, although I don’t think the French guys that wrote it realized it would be the catalyst for a sapphic fanfic

Lady Violet Bridgerton was never one for last minute endeavours. That wasn’t to say she didn’t appreciate a little spontaneity every now and again, but surely she preferred when things were planned and she was prepared. 

So it shocked her, of all things, that she could be the reason for her own unpreparedness. In reality, her family’s circumstances — with Francesca’s departure to Scotland, Anthony and Kate’s travels to India, and Colin and Penelope’s honeymoon — were the real cause of her scattered brain, but she still blamed herself of course. 

It was with a very apologetic look that she entered the modiste, hopeful that Madame Delacroix might be able to fit her in for a last minute appointment so that she could have a dress made for an upcoming ball. 

“Unfortunately, I will not be able to help you, Lady Bridgerton,” the seamstress said and Violet cursed internally, “but I have a colleague who has just arrived from France to help me since business has been so-err plentiful.” 

“Oh!” Violet was pleasantly surprised, blinking her eyes a few times, thinking something was better than nothing at this point. “Would she be able to see me?” 

“She is just getting settled, but I am sure she can make some time for a very loyal customer who I am sure has been just as busy as me recently,” Madame Delacroix gave Violet a friendly smile which was bashfully returned. 

She asked Violet to wait for a moment, going to the back where Violet could hear some quiet chatter before Madame Delacroix returned with you by her side. 

“Lady Bridgerton, this is Madame Bisset.” 

Violet had to remind herself to move her head up and down in a polite nod, her eyes glued so intensely to yours. She wouldn’t be surprised if her mouth was slightly agape like that of a fish, but she could have sworn she’d never seen anything as beautiful in her entire life.

“I have a space upstairs,” you explained. “It is still a little messy. I hope you do not mind.” 

“I-” Violet’s voice came out strained and she coughed and cleared her throat. “No, that will not be a problem.” 

“Perfect, right this way, Madame,” you motioned for her to follow you, going into the back of the shop, climbing up a set of narrow stairs until you reached the top, revealing to Violet another workspace she hadn’t seen before. 

Like you had already mentioned, it was a little rough around the edges, fabric was still pouring out of boxes, a few mannequins were tucked away in the corner, but there was a nice carpeted area in the middle of the room with a raised platform and a large mirror.

“Um, Madame Delacroix said you came from France recently,” Violet found herself beginning to talk. 

“Yes, I arrived just one week ago,” you explained. “I heard there is quite the market for dress making in London and I was looking for a bit of a change.” 

“I hope you enjoy it here,” Violet smiled. “Lord knows the ton cannot get enough of a good modiste.” 

“That is what I am relying on.” you chuckled, and motioned for her to step up on the platform. “Now, what is it you are looking for, Lady Bridgerton?” 

“Just an evening gown, for an upcoming ball,” she said, finding herself unable to break her gaze from you, watching as you brought out a measuring tape and looked through some boxes of fabric. 

“Any preferences?” you asked. “We just had this lovely fabric come in, I think it would look quite stunning on you.” 

Once you had found it, you pulled it out of the box with a smile and came to drape it over Violet’s shoulder so she could see it on herself. You smoothed out the fabric along her front and she almost felt herself stagger back at the gentle and light pressure over her chest and midsection. 

“What do you think?” 

She blinked a few times, like she was trying to get her eyes to work again, taking in the blushy pink fabric with darker pink paisley embroidery. 

“Yes, it’s quite nice,” her voice came out a whisper. 

“Perfect,” you smiled. “Then I will take your measurements and you can be on your way.” 

Measurements. Violet wasn’t sure if she’d be able to make it through that. 

There was something electric about your touch, even when your fingers were simply hovering over her, she could feel sparks sending signals to her heart, beating faster until she could hear it pounding in her ears. 

Violet had always known attraction to be strong and forceful, but this was bordering on violent. 

She watched as you adjusted the measuring tape in your hands, first starting with the length from her shoulder to her ankle. You worked with much concentration and diligence, and for that Violet was grateful, because it meant that maybe you wouldn’t notice how each time she felt your hands against her she would have to centre herself and remind herself how to breathe, repeating the words in and out over and over again in her head. 

Eventually, you needed to take the measurements for her hips and bust and Violet knew if she didn’t distract herself somehow she might faint. 

“Um when will I-uh need to come in for adjustments?” she asked, just as your hands wrapped the tape from around her back to the front of her chest. 

“Currently you are my only customer,” you said. “I believe two days will be more than enough time for me to finish. After the adjustments are done I can have the dress sent to Bridgerton house if that is agreeable.” 

“Oh, um, no there is no need for that,” she shook her head. “I can pick it up. The home is quiet nowadays with most of my children off in every corner of Lord knows where,” she chuckled nervously. “It’s nice to get out of the house and get some fresh air, perhaps get some tea, go for a stroll.” 

“Yes of course, whatever suits you, Madame,” you nodded your head. “And I believe we are finished for today.” 

Violet gave you a sheepish smile and stepped down from the platform. 

“Thank you, Madame Bisset. I am not normally this-uh disorganized,” she explained. “I promise next time I will plan things much better.” 

“Lady Bridgerton, I love what I do, really it is no trouble. Come any time to see me.” 

Violet lightly chewed on the side of her bottom lip, looking down at her feet, her hands moving to her stomach, perhaps to remind herself that she was standing. 

“I will keep that in mind,” she nodded and wished you a final goodbye before walking down the stairs and exiting the modiste, grateful now for the air outside more than she thought she had ever been in her life. 

—

Two days later, Violet returned anxiously for her alterations. When she entered the modiste she was surprised to see you already downstairs, looking through some drawers for something. 

You heard the ring of the shop bell and looked up from where you were hunched over, a welcoming smile gracing your face. 

“Lady Bridgerton,” you greeted.

“Madame Bisset, it is good to see you.” 

Her mind drifted back to the image of you moments ago, bent over an open drawer. It certainly was good to see you. 

“Did I drop in at a bad time?” she asked. 

“Not at all, I was just getting some lace for the hem of the dress and around the sleeves and neckline. I thought it might be nice to try, no?” 

Violet nodded, she would simply say yes to anything that either gave her an excuse to be with you longer or to come back more often. 

You led her upstairs to your workspace again, and this time when she entered she realized it was noticeably cleaner and more organized than last time. 

Boxes were replaced by racks of fabrics and shelves had been uncovered to host a myriad of little things, all of which she was sure you’d find use for in due time. 

“Should I help with the dress, Madame?” you motioned to her outfit and Violet gulped. 

“Y-yes, I suppose that would be…necessary,” she nodded her head and you moved to close the door for the workspace and lock it to ensure privacy while Violet stood up on the slightly raised platform in front of the mirror. 

You had come to stand behind her, your fingers carefully fitting themselves between her sleeve and shoulder, helping her slip one arm out at a time before pulling it down slightly over her chest and guiding the fabric to the ground so she could step out of it. 

It was something she’d done in front of other women countless times, but never had she felt this vulnerable and exposed. She looked down and saw the hairs on her arm stand on end, only to be followed by a slight jolt when she felt your hand against her corseted waist.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized with a chuckle. “I just need…” your voice trailed off as you looked down at her feet and she realized she needed to step out of her dress. 

A rosy colour quickly made its way onto her cheeks as she stepped out of her dress so you could hang it up for her and bring the new dress for her to try on. 

She stepped into the pink fabric and tried to make sure her body made no involuntary movements as she felt your hands graze along her sides, helping each bare arm slip into a sleeve, now finally covered again. 

“Hmm,” you stood in front of her and analyzed the way the fabric fit. “It is a little loose here, no?” you asked, tightening the fabric around her chest slightly so that it was more in line with the shape of her corset. 

“I suppose, maybe, yes,” she nodded, “I-I’m sorry, but do you have any water?” Violet asked.”I-I’m feeling a little parched.” 

“Oh of course,” you nodded, letting go of her dress and walking to a pitcher and some glasses you had set to the side, filling one up for her before bringing it back. 

She tried her best to drink it graciously, but there was nothing more she wanted to do than down the whole glass in one shot. Once she was finished, you took the glass from her and set it aside, picking up the lace you had brought up with you, to present your suggestion.

“I was thinking maybe we can put it around the hem of the dress, like this,” you showed her, bending down and lifting the skirt just slightly to tuck some of the lace under it so it was peeking throughout the bottom. 

“Oh,” Violet raised her brows as she looked in the mirror. “I actually quite like that.” 

“So do I,” you nodded, standing back up, “And I thought maybe the arms…” 

You tried the same thing with the sleeves and, again, it suited the look of the dress. Lastly, you placed it around the neckline, moving to hold it up from behind her so she could see. 

Violet thought at that moment it was probably better not to breathe at all considering if she did, with the restriction of her corset her heaving chest would be quite obvious. 

“Mmm, je n’aime pas ça,” you shook your head, your voice soft and close to her ear. 

“I-I’m sorry?” 

Violet had spent most of her younger years learning French, but for some reason, the entirety of the language had escaped her. 

“I do not like the lace here,” you switched back to English, removing the lace and pulling the fabric a little tighter around her bust, pinning it in place with the pins from your pin cushion. “It is better like this.” 

“You think so?” she asked quietly, feeling herself swallow harshly after she finished speaking. 

“I know so, Madame,” you nodded. “Why would one hide such perfect skin?” 

Violet looked in the mirror at what you were referring to, her chest littered with freckles and spots. 

“I hardly think it is perfect,” she shook her head. 

“It would be like covering a starry sky with clouds,” you offered. “One cannot gaze at the stars and wonder about the universe on a cloudy night.” 

Violet chuckled nervously and looked down at the floor for a moment.

“Madame Bisset, I think you mistake how many people are gazing.”

“You would be surprised,” you gently placed your hand on her arm, rubbing up and down in a reassuring motion. 

She could feel the fabric of the sleeves move against her arm in response to your touch and it caused a warmth to spread in the pit of her stomach. 

You moved to grab a container with a few more pins and began seeing where adjustments needed to be made and dealt with the fabric accordingly. Violet felt herself easily growing restless, her fingers fiddling around with the small bits of thread sticking out of the end of the sleeves. 

“So, um, where does the name Bisset come from? What I mean to say is what area of France?” she quickly clarified. 

“Bisset does not belong to a region,” you explained. “It means one who weaves.” 

“Oh, how fitting,” Violet hummed. 

“It is not my real name,” you admitted. “Just something I picked up for work.” 

Violet bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to let her curiosity get the best of her, but when she heard your quiet chuckle from behind her, she tried to turn her head to look back at you. 

“What is it?” 

“It is okay, you want to know what my name actually is,” you said. “You can ask.” 

And so she did, and for the first time she heard your name. She tested it in her own voice, like she was savouring having your name on her tongue, burned into her mind. 

“Mine is Violet,” she said quietly. 

“Violet,” your French pronunciation of her name made her feel a shiver behind her neck, or maybe that was simply your breath against her skin. “Un nom joli pour une personne même plus jolie.”

Violet blushed at your admission, and you grinned. 

“So you understand me then?” 

She nodded her head. 

“Then what did I say?” you teased her a little, while adding a few more pins, now along the length of the sleeves. 

Violet looked at you as if to ask if you were really going to make her say it out loud, and when you didn’t seem to back down she caved. 

“You said that it was a beautiful name for a beautiful person,” she said before pressing her lips together. 

“Close,” you looked up at her. “A beautiful name for an even more beautiful person.” 

“You flatter me too much,” Violet shook her head. 

“In my experience, a dress is only as beautiful as the person wearing it,” you said. “It is always a pleasure to make something for someone who shines just as brightly as the fine fabrics and silks. Even more so when they believe it.” 

You put in the last pin and looked content with your work. 

“I should have this ready by tomorrow,” you told her. “You still wish to pick it up?” 

“Yes,” she nodded with a smile. 

“Alright, let me help you change so that you can be on your way.” 

Carefully, you helped Violet take off the dress, conscious to make sure none of the pins pricked her, and after she stepped out of the dress, you put it on your work table, getting what dress she came with and helping her slip back into it. 

“I will see you tomorrow then, in the afternoon, in case anything comes up,” you said and she smiled. 

“Tomorrow afternoon it is, Madame.” 

“Au revoir,” you gave her a small wave and again, she held her hands against her stomach. 

“Au revoir.” 

—

Violet wasn’t sure she’d ever gotten so many compliments on a dress as she had on what you’d made for her. There was something new and cutting about it and much to her surprise, it became very hard to book an appointment with either you or Madame Delacroix afterwards. 

News had spread to the rest of the ton of you and your talents, and everyone wanted a piece. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Violet managed to get herself in for another appointment, needing a dress for a wedding along with a few odds and ends she thought with all this uncertainty she may as well get done now.

When she arrived at the modiste, it was overflowing with people. She never thought she had seen it so busy and she wondered if it was really all from that simple pink dress. Although the dress itself wasn’t necessarily simple, it was elegant in its style, its function, and of course, it had a certain je ne sais quoi.

“Lady Bridgerton,” you grinned, seeing Violet enter the shop. “I believe I have you to thank for all this business. Both Genviève and I do.” 

“Oh, I didn’t do any of the work,” she shook her head. “I simply wore it.” 

“And you wore it well, which is half of the battle,” you chuckled. “Come, I am always happy to see my favourite customer.” 

Violet’s heart warmed when you called her your favourite, a sense of pride overcoming her. Still out of all of the young debutantes and busy mamas, she somehow remained at the top of your list. 

When you arrived at your workspace, closing the door behind you and walking further inside and let out a small breath of air, a bright smile came over your face. 

“How can I help you today?” 

“I need a dress for a wedding,” she began, “along with a few other things.” 

“Such as?” you pressed. 

“Some clothes for the country, a few dresses for home, and some new night clothes. I was thinking perhaps a robe and a nightgown or two.” 

“Madame, you are keeping my hands busy,” you smiled. “Now I already have the measurements I will need for the dress, so we can pick fabrics, then maybe I can show you some things I have already made in case something catches your eye and we can make alterations and then fill in any gaps after.” 

“Sounds splendid to me,” she nodded. 

“Parfait,” you grinned and clapped your hands together. “What colour are you thinking for the dress you will wear to the wedding?” 

“I usually stick to blue,” she said. “It was the colour my late husband’s family used a lot, but…” she paused. 

“You’re thinking of something else,” you put your hands on your hips. “Purple.” 

“How did you know?” she looked at you a little astounded, a small chuckle coming past her lips, lacing her words with a certain playfulness. 

“A suspicion,” you shrugged with a teasing wink. “Now light or dark?”

“Light, it is getting warmer outside after all.” 

You rummaged through some things and pulled out a few swatches of fabric for her to choose from. 

“They are all nice,” Violet chewed on her lip while trying to decide. “What do you think?” 

You took a long look at the collection in front of you and then looked up at Violet, sizing up each swatch to the woman in front of you, fabricating the dress in your mind’s eye until you figured out which one you liked the most.

“This one, I think.”

You held out a simple silky fabric for her. 

“I can add something to it, a design, some beads,” you said. “But I like this colour on you.” 

“I will leave it up to you,” she said. “I am sure I will be happy with whatever you make. Surely, the rest of the ton is.” 

You chuckled and placed the fabric back down. 

“Now some of those other things,” you motioned for her to follow you. 

You showed her a few dresses to see what ones she might be interested in taking with her to the country. Some were made with simple cotton for days spent resting inside the house in the off season. Once she had decided which she liked, you set them aside to make sure they were properly fitted for her. 

“And nightclothes?” you asked. “What about something like this?” 

You pulled out a particularly sheer gown, probably meant for someone on their honeymoon, or maybe at the very least with someone to share it with. 

“Um,  I am not sure I am the right fit for that,” she chuckled nervously, knowing her resolve with you already wore thin, hoping you would accept her reasoning and move on to something more modest. 

“Why not?” you asked.

“I am a widow, Madame, I wouldn’t have anyone to wear it for,” she said truthfully. 

“You could wear it for yourself,” you said. 

Violet tilted her head and blinked, “Myself?” 

“Ben oui,” you nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Who said you have to wear something for someone else?” 

Violet chewed on her cheek. She supposed she wasn’t really wearing anything for anyone but herself at the moment. 

“It is okay to wear something that makes you feel beautiful even if you are the only one to see it,” you reassured her. “If you do not think you would feel beautiful in this, now that is something different.” 

Violet pressed her lips together. It had been so long since she had worn something other than a simple cotton nightdress, but there was something alluring about wearing something that matched her desire, even if she would end up being the only one to see it. 

“And the fitting for this?” she asked. 

“We could do it right now, if you wish,” you said. 

“L-Like for alterations?” she looked at you wide-eyed.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, draping the dress over your arm, ignoring her surprise. 

She looked between the dress and herself a few times, contemplating whether or not she should do it, or more, whether she could handle it. 

Wearing it for herself was one thing, but wearing it in front of you was something else. 

She nervously scratched behind her ear, thinking in her mind that it might be best to pass on this for the moment, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she said,

“Alright then.” 

You smiled and turned to go back to where you would do the alterations and Violet blinked hard, processing what had just left her mouth. 

“Are you coming, Madame?” 

Violet looked over at you and nodded, slowly walking over to the platform. 

Similar to before, you helped her out of her dress, and she stood in front of you again in her corset and undergarments, but this time after her dress was placed off to the side, your fingers nimbly worked on the laces on her back, deftly loosening the material and unravelling it until it was loose around her. 

Violet, not quite ready to let go, held it up from the front, noticing her breathing becoming shakier by the second. 

“I can take that for you,” you extended your hand out for her corset and she swallowed thickly. 

It took her a few moments to remember how to work her hands again, carefully peeling the material away from her chest and handing it to you, unsure of what to do with her arms before deciding her best option was to cross them over her chest. 

When you returned, you came to stand in front of Violet, the nightgown in your hands, ready to help her put it on. You looked down at her crossed arms then back up at her blue eyes and her cheeks flushed before moving her hands and lifting them above her head so you could slip the fabric over her. 

The hem of the dress stopped at her knees, much shorter than anything she was used to wearing. The slight blue colour almost enhanced the sheerness of the fabric and Violet tried to take it all in, running a hand down her midsection, noticing how she could see her bellybutton.

She tried not to focus on how she could feel your gaze burning into what felt like her very soul. 

“What do you think of the fit?” she asked quietly. 

You pursed your lips. 

“I like how it fits around here,” you ran your hands along both sides of her waist down to her hips. “Less, up here.”

Your hands migrated to the fabric barely covering her breasts and she could have sworn she let out a small squeak, feeling your fingers brush against her. Her suspicion was confirmed when you spoke. 

“Everything alright, Madame?” you looked up at her. 

“Fine,” she whispered. 

“T’es sûre?” you murmured, stepping a little closer and adjusting the straps over her shoulders. 

“Mhmm,” she almost whimpered, pressing her lips together and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m fine, it is just a little chilly up here,” she said. “You know when you get cold, you um…you feel things more.” 

You nodded your head. 

“That is not to say it was cold before, I am just cold now because-” 

“Tais toi.” 

Violet blinked. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” you looked up at her and placed a finger under her chin. “I said tais toi.” 

Despite Violet’s shock that you had essentially told her to shut up, she found herself speaking still.

“Really?” she began. “You won’t even use le vous poli?” she asked, referring to your less polite and more informal grammar choice. 

“Why would I use that when everything I want to do to you is very, very impolite?” you whispered, merely millimeters away from her mouth, your breath mingling with hers. 

Violet wasn’t sure what overcame her, she grabbed your hands, placing them over her breasts, her mouth agape as shaky breaths fanned over your face. 

With that permission, you brushed your thumbs on top of the fabric, over her nipples, her whimper deliciously clouding your senses, encouraging you to do it again. 

“If you are really so set on wearing this for someone,” you gripped her tighter, eliciting a surprised gasp, your lips travelling closer to her ear. “You could wear it for me, ma belle.” 

Violet hummed and leaned her head against yours, feeling you move along her until your foreheads were pressed together, noses brushing against each other. 

“We shouldn’t,” Violet breathed. 

“We shouldn’t,” you shook your head, still moving closer until you captured her lips with yours. Her hands found their way to your waist, narrowly avoiding your pin cushion, pulling you against her, your thumbs still gently massaging over her breasts, content hums and soft moans echoing in your mouth as you kissed her. 

When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against Violet’s again, your eyes shut. 

“You have another appointment don’t you?” Violet whispered and you nodded and she had to bite back the whine that wanted to escape. 

“Come back tonight,” you murmured, your hands moving to hold both sides of Violet’s face, a reassurance. “Two doors down.” 

“W-What would I tell my carriage driver?” 

“Pick your most discreet one,” you whispered, pressing your lips to hers again in a much softer kiss. 

She nodded her head and when you pulled apart further and she opened her eyes, she could see you smiling back at her and she thought if you were so certain, maybe everything would be okay. 

It wasn’t until much later in the evening when Violet was standing outside your door, waiting for you to come and open it, that the reality of the situation fully set on her. She was caught in such a haze before, her stomach swirling with an all consuming nausea that was almost delightful. 

She felt her arms wrapping around herself tighter, nervously looking around to make sure there were no unwanted eyes watching her, until she heard the door open in front of her, bringing her attention back to the present. 

You were quick to wordlessly take her hand and bring her inside, closing the door behind you. 

“You are tense,” you remarked, holding her hand in both of yours, gently massaging its back with your thumbs. 

Violet was unsure of what to expect, but she did know wherever this led, she wanted to follow it, to chase that staggering violent feeling until she couldn’t take it any more. 

“I just didn’t want anyone to see,” she whispered. “I am fine.” 

You smiled. “Bien.” 

You helped her take off her cloak, biting your bottom lip when you saw what she was wearing underneath. 

“C’est jolie,” you hummed. “But I think I am more excited to see what is underneath.” 

Violet chuckled nervously, feeling a certain heat come to her cheeks. She let herself be pulled into you when you took your hand in hers, melting into the kiss that followed, allowing you to lead her through the hallway and into what she assumed was a bedroom. 

Her suspicions were fully confirmed when she felt the back of her legs hit a plush mattress, making her fall back, only to be gently lowered the rest of the way by you, now leaning over top of her. 

“W-Wait,” Violet whispered.

“Hmm?” you looked at her patiently. “Ça va?”

“What happens next?” she asked. 

“Do you want me to explain it to you?”

You tilted your head to look at her and she nodded. 

“First I take this off,” you murmured, working at the series of ribbons in the front of her dress that kept it tied shut. 

She watched as you undid each one, single handedly, revealing more and more of her bare skin until your hand came and fully pushed both parts of the fabric aside, leaving her exposed in front of you. 

“Then I listen,” you kissed her jaw. “Your breathing, your body, it…tells me things.” 

One hand moved to cup her breast and she sighed. 

“Like that,” you smiled. “And I follow that, I see where it takes me.”

You pinched her nipple between your thumb and pointer finger and she arched slightly into your touch. Carefully, you twisted it between your fingers, your mouth trailing its kisses down her neck and chest, until eventually your mouth replaced your fingers, tongue swirling and teeth grazing against the soft and sensitive flesh. 

Violet let out a breath of air, a whine caught in the back of her throat as she arched further into you, her hand coming to hold your head against her. 

With a gentle kiss, you paused your mouth’s movements, taking your hand from where it rested against her waist, dragging it across her stomach. 

“Next,” you began, “No, it is too vulgar in English,” you shook your head. 

“Tell me in French,” she begged. “Dit-le moi, s’il vous plaît.” 

You smiled and kissed her breast again. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

Your finger trailed a little lower, now tracing lines across the base of her stomach, the skin there soft and stretched from many pregnancies, and oh so precious. 

“Je prends mes doigts,” your fingers moved even lower, the blood pumping to Violet’s head so fast she thought she might faint. “Et je les appuie ici.”

“Oh!” she moaned, her head turned to the side, your thumb firmly against her, massaging in slow tantalizing and tortuous circles.

“Mais, je préfère les mettre comme ça.” 

Violet gasped, your name on her lips as she felt your fingers inside her, beginning a slow and steady pace that her body seemed to match with the movement of her hips. 

“Is this good, or do you want more?” you asked her, not stopping the movement of your hand and fingers. 

“More, please,” she breathed. 

“En Français, ma belle.” 

“S-S’il vous plaît.” 

“Bien sûre,” you smiled and increased your pace, fingers carefully searching until they found the intense response they were seeking from Violet. 

“There,” she nodded her head, eyes squeezed shut. “Mmm.” 

She pressed her lips together so tightly you could have sworn they went white. 

You listened to her instructions, continuing to work at that spot, leaning over top of her, feeling her breathing pick up with each fan of warm breath over your face. You pressed a few kisses to her jaw, your ear right next to her mouth, listening intently as breathing turned into moans that didn’t stop. 

You could feel the heat radiating off of every part of her, clouding your own senses, encouraging you further to push her over that edge, eager movements guiding her until her mind went blissfully blank, her back arched towards you while you slowed your hand, her breathing much more ragged than before until you carefully removed your fingers. 

Wiping them carefully on the sheets next to her, you then took her face in your hand, pressing a slow kiss to her lips. 

Violet hummed into your lips, like she wanted to say something so you pulled away, watching her finally open her eyes once more. 

“Can I?” she whispered. 

“Can you what, chèrie?” 

“Do that for you?” she asked. “Teach me.” 

You grinned, leaning down and capturing her lips in another kiss. 

When you pulled apart this time, she pushed herself up on her forearms, watching as you moved to sit next to her. She knew the first step, her hand brushing against the sleeve of your nightgown, pushing it off your shoulder, studying how your skin felt against her fingers. 

You took your arm out of your sleeve and waited for her to do the same with the opposite side before tugging the sides down until the fabric pooled at your hips. 

She leaned in to kiss you, guiding you to lie back on the mattress before her hands came back to the fabric, pulling it completely off of you. 

She took a moment to admire you in front of her, feeling that same intense pull towards you as she did when you had first become acquainted. 

With her lips against yours once more, she hooked her fingers around the top of your underwear, pulling it down as her lips detached from yours so she could finish the job. 

She leaned over top of you, her brown hair falling in waves on either side of her head, the soft fabric of her robe-like dress, creating a curtain around her, but her body still on full display for you. 

You couldn’t help but reach out and snake a hand around her waist, your thumb brushing back and forth in small motions. 

“Tell me,” she whispered. “What do I do next?” 

You moved your hand up from her waist tracing along her side and down her arm, until her wrist was in your hands. 

“You can touch me here.”  

You placed her hand on your breast. “Or here.” 

Your hand moved hers lower, only hovering over your core. 

“Or anywhere that feels right when you listen.” 

She nodded her head slowly, your hand finishing its guidance as she watched with bated breath, your eyes closed anticipatorily, small shaky breaths coming past your lips as her fingers made contact and you finally let go of her wrist. 

Violet tucked some of her hair behind her ear with her free hand before letting herself feel and explore you. 

She paid close attention, listening to what sounds filled the air, a small smile coming to her lips when you moaned her name. 

She moved so her thumb replaced her fingers, continuing to brush against that spot that seemed to make your face twist and contort in beautiful ways she’d never seen before. 

Violet became curious, her other hand moving to cup your breast, brushing her thumb over your nipple, noticing the new reaction it had brought, a groan and a plea for more. 

Both of her thumbs worked in tandem on different parts of your body, pulling your focus in two directions, back and forth with no end in sight.

Violet was entranced by you, squirming slightly under her touch, the fact that she was the one making you feel this way, like you had no control. The only thing possible for you to do was let her know how much you wanted, no, needed her. 

“Violet,” you whimpered. “Please, m-more.” 

Violet smiled devilishly and leaned down, her lips ghosting your ear. 

“En Français.”

“S’il vous plaît, Violet, mon Dieu,” you groaned before she increased the intensity of her ministrations. 

Her hand moved from your breast up to your face, holding it up so she could kiss you as her thumb worked against you, a warmth spreading in her stomach as you moaned into her mouth, your hips meeting her touch until you were gripping onto Violet for dear life as the only hope of reminding yourself you were, in fact, still on earth. 

She stopped a little more abruptly than you would have liked, still thrumming with pleasure, and holding her close. 

“Was that right?” she teased and when you finally looked up at her, grabbing her chin with your thumb and forefinger, pulling her down in a kiss, your last words, a mutter against her lips. 

“Tais toi.” 

TAGLIST —

@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya @philocalistwrites @mako-mermaids2021 @oh-mydarling @courtneyteal @amethyst-bitch

[julysn]

Hii! Sorry, I'm a little embarrassed to ask you this >-<, but could you do an Andy Graves x Reader fanfic?I'm so obsessed with the post what it would be like to date Andrew, oh if I could ask for one more thing could it be on the decay route or without Ashley?

𝓝otes ⋆ i think you’re the same anon from the andy graves post so HI AGAIN!! also two writing posts in a day who dis

also. also. no ashley as always. my ass is too tired to string this into decay route so i was like “… just no ashley is fine” IM SORRY okay you said “or without ashley” so i went w the latter

anyways HERE IT IS! i didn’t know what to do for this so it’s kinda short and sucks ass. ended up doing what i do best—smut so um hope u like this 😭 sorry for tangent yk how i am i guess..

𝓘ncludes cursing, oral sex, there isn’t much dialogue just head. blowjobs. did i mention sex? slightly ooc maybe idk i wasn’t thinking when i wrote this

𝓢ynopsis ⋆ basically you suck cock until he cums. porn no plot

“That’s it, baby.” Andrew coos, his hand getting tangled in your hair as he watches your head bop up and down, his cock in your mouth. He can’t help but love the sensation of your saliva coating his shaft, watching you envelop his member into your mouth like it was the last thing you’d ever dox

You look up into his eyes, gazing into his lust-filled orbs, watching as ecstasy clouded his vision from each and every time your tongue brushed against his sensitive foreskin. Andrew was just so pretty like this, one hand across his mouth and the other hand in your hair as his cheeks flushed red.

“Mmm, Y/N..” A soft gasp escapes his lips, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers wrap around the strands of your hair and begin to tug, tugging you up and down his cock, forcing your pace to accelerate. “I’m close, babygirl..”

Suddenly, Andrew falls off of the edge of heaven, ejaculating into your mouth as his cum drips down into your throat. He lets out a loud, deep groan, his hands tightening in your hair as your eyes widened and you swallowed down all of the semen.

𝓝otes ⋆ sorry guys if i got the male anatomy stuff wrong AND YES ik this was short 😭😭 if anything’s inaccurate i’ve never had sex saur…

[kodydrs]

don’t stay at my house - j. kirstein

a/n : i need him in a way that’s terrible for feminism. I’ve been in love with this man since day freaking 1 and i think if i search hard enough there’ll be fanfics i wrote abt him when i was 15 (they will not be getting posted). but anywhos. why not send in a request, or ask?!

warnings: jean x fem!reader, jean x marco!sister!reader, fxm, smut (mdni), friends with benefits, brothers best friend type fwb, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), titplay (not really), mostly fully clothed, not proofread (it’s never proofread), I’m bad at tagging still

ib: this one fanart i saw on pinterest

request: yes / no

rule number 1: no feelings. it’s called off straight away if either of us catch feelings

rule number 2 : don’t tell anyone

rule number 3 : all things must be discussed previously before trying

rule number 4 : consent is key

rule number 5 : MARCO CANNOT FIND OUT

It’d been a boring day. You had no classes, and you’d done as much study as your brain would let you. You probably could’ve invited Sasha or Mikasa over, but they both had partners to hang out with, as well as other stuff.

You were single. There was no real reason why. There were boys & girls that’d happily go out with you if you gave them the chance, but dating just didn’t appeal to you that much. Not when there were so many strings attached. But that doesn’t mean you were a slut. You didn’t jump from person to person’s bed or anything. You were happy with your situation.

‘Hey.’

‘Oh. I didn’t realise you were over.’

Jean stood at your door, arms folded and leaning against the frame. He chuckled lightly, walking into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed.

‘I’ve been here almost all day. Marco just went into town to grab stuff so the house is empty. How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine, thank you. How about you? I haven’t seen you in over a week.’

‘I’ve been great.’ He says, pushing his hair back. ‘But I was kinda wondering if… um… I wanted to see your smile.’

He grinned widely, and the flicker from your eyes to your lips didn’t go unnoticed. You leaned forwards, closing the gap between you slightly.

‘You’re allowed to kiss me, Kirstein.’ You whispered, smiling at his unsubtlety. His grin growing, he brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it lightly before brushing his lips against yours in a sweet, gentle kiss.

‘I love your smile. You know that?’ He pulled back slightly, his hand moving down to gently squeeze your thigh beneath your blanket.

‘I know.’ You reply, moving your hand to hold his jaw before smoothing along the bone. His eyes closed, melting into the soft touch of your fingers on his skin.

He leaned in again, and this time their kiss deepened, his other hand moving up to grip your waist, pulling your bodies closer.

‘Jean…’ You breathed, bringing your hands to his chest. Their placement made me groan softly, heart racing.

‘Yeah?’

‘We can’t right now. Marco could get home any minute.’ You pulled back, pressing your foreheads together to maintain proximity. He muttered a quiet ‘damn it’, aware that you were right. He sighed and took a deep breath, trying to calm his body down.

‘I know this isn’t the best place or time, but I can’t stop thinking about you.’

You could only give a sympathetic smile to his words. You took his hand and rubbed your thumb along his palm.

‘You’ll have to stop it then. You remember the rules. No feelings.’

‘Yeah. Yeah. Got it. “no feelings involved”.’ He said, holding your hand. ‘But you don’t know how hard that is when it's you I could be with. Like, I keep catching myself thinking about things we could do together. It drives me nuts.’

You listened to him, but the inside of your mouth was being abused by your teeth, distracted by his words.

He leaned in to kiss you once again, but this time, your hand came between your mouths, pushing his face away.

‘Look. Jean. I do really like you, ok. But Marco and… if he found out, then that’s the end of it. You won’t be invited over anymore.’

There was a look of hurt in his eyes when you met them. His hands wrapped carefully around your wrist, pulling your hand away.

‘Please say you aren’t pushing me away right now.’ You couldn’t keep looking at his eyes, so they diverted to your wall, holding your breath like you were about to cry.

After a few moments, Jean’s grip on your wrist loosened and you felt the bed adjust as he stood.

‘Yeah. You’re right. We can’t do this.’ You wanted to look at him. You wanted to pour your heart out to him and get him to stay, but the thought of his friendship with your brother being destroyed seemed to keep you quiet.

‘You… You should probably go back to Marco’s room. Pretend the house is actually empty.’

‘Yeah. I should.’ He hesitated for a moment, but he gave you a small smile before he left, closing the door gently. As soon as his footsteps faded, you burst into tears, clutching your shirt to cover your mouth.

Jean left your room hurriedly, face flushed and heart racing from the feelings he’d just tried to suppress.

‘Shit.’ He sat down on the stairs, putting his face in his hands as he took deep breaths. ‘Fucking shit.’

It’d been a few months since the “incident” if you’d even call it an incident at all. You hadn’t seen each other since, and you had no clue if it was because he hadn’t come over, or because you barely left your room. But it didn’t matter to you at all. You had exams to focus on.

‘Hey Marco. Do you have any spare batte-‘ You opened your brothers door, only stopping when you saw he had company. ‘-ries.’

Jean looked up from where he lay on Marco’s bed, face flushed and burying his head down as if it’d hide the fact you’d already seen him. Marco went unphased, opening his drawer to rummage through.

‘What type do you need?’

‘Do you have like, 2 9v ones? Preferably lithium but not too phased.’

He found the first one pretty quickly, but it felt like a mission finding another one. After about 3 minutes, you both gave up and closed the drawer.

‘I’ll pick some up later when I go into town. Do you need anything else?’

‘No. I should be right. Take him with you when you leave.’ You nodded towards Jean. Jean who still had his face hidden. Marco gave you a look, but you just closed the door. You froze outside for a minute, letting out a deep sigh before you went back to your room.

You’d told Marco about what happened. Told him everything from the first hook up to the “break up”. He was a little weirded out at first, but he didn’t seem to care otherwise.

A few hours had passed when you heard the rustle of shoes before a soft knock on your door, followed by your brother's head poking in.

‘I’m going now. Don’t die while I’m gone.’

‘Take Jean with you.’ Marco opened the door fully, folding his arms across his chest.

‘You haven’t been phased by being alone in the house for the past month, so why now that you know he’s here?’

‘Because I know he’s here.’ You emphasised each word, trying to prove your point. ‘It’s like when there’s a serial killer in your house. You aren’t phased until you know they’re there.’

‘That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?’ A deadpan reaction was the only reaction he was getting out of you. ‘Whatever. Just don’t burn the house down.’

‘Thank you.’

Like any brother, he didn’t close your door properly, but you heard the front door close, followed by his car leaving and that was enough reassurance that you were alone in an empty house.

You only worked for another 30 minutes before dehydration set in. Usually you had your drink bottle on your desk or in your bag, but today seemed to be an exception because you couldn’t find it at all. So you stood, pushing your chair back and walked to the kitchen.

Like you wanted, the house was empty and quiet. It was always like that considering it was only you and Marco that lived there.

The house was big enough to fit more people, but living alone just out of the city meant it was mostly silent, mind the few cars that drove past into work or to one of the neighbouring houses. But it also meant that if you needed to, you could catch a bus to your classes.

You were reaching for a glass when you heard footsteps on the lino. It made you flinch, nearly dropping the glass when you saw Jean trying to escape quietly.

‘Why are you still here?!’

He froze, stepping back like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t meant to. Not that he wasn’t meant to be in your house. Just not at that exact moment.

‘Look. I didn’t even know you were here until you came into Marco’s room. I thought you had classes today.’

‘Is that your excuse?’ You asked. Your tone showed how pissed off you were if your expression didn’t. You left the glass on the counter, suddenly well hydrated before storming out of the kitchen.

‘Wait. Please.’ You felt hands grab around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. ‘Just… let me talk. Please.’

You maintained your frown, making it obvious you didn’t wanna hear what he had to say, but you were more respectful than that, so you stopped pulling against him.

He released a sigh and let go of your wrist.

‘Alright. Can I start off by saying I’m sorry? I should’ve checked you weren’t here before I came. That part is fair for you to be mad about.’ You stood, arms folded and leaning against the counter as the brunette continued. ‘And I want to apologise for how things turned out back then. I still really fucked up, and I’m not denying that any of it was wrong, because I pushed you and I shouldn’t have. You didn’t deserve any of that.’ You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, an action you noted hasn’t changed in your time apart. But you couldn’t meet his eyes, so they looked down at the floor, the same way you looked away when you last spoke. He sighed again, moving closer to you so his hand gently brushed against your arms.

‘Look. I know I’m not the best, and you probably have plenty of other options that you could go to, but… I still really like you. A lot. And I’ve done everything I can to try move on-‘

‘Jean.’ You interrupted sternly. It’s not like how you used to say it. You used to breath his name with so much love that it drove you both crazy. There was no love in the way you said it now. ‘Stop.’

‘Stop what? Talking to you? Even if I did, I wouldn’t stop thinking about you.’

‘Just stop it!’ There was anger boiling in your voice, but he seemed so clouded that he couldn’t see it.

‘Why? Why do you hate me so?’

‘Because if I don’t hate you, then I’m going to fall in love with you again!’ Tears brimmed your eyes as you finally confessed.

Jean’s heart skipped a beat. He moved closer, placing a hand on your chin and gently raising it until your eyes met.

‘That can’t happen.’ He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘Don’t you dare say that. Because I’ve been trying not to for months.’ You’re looking up at him, leaning against his hand. Reaching down, he cupped your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

‘I’ll fight it with everything I have in me but…’ He trailed off, leaning in so his lips barely brushed against yours.

‘But..?’

‘But I can’t promise I’ll win.’

He kissed you slowly, his hands sliding off your face and down your back, pulling you closer. The kiss only deepened as emotions ran high between the 2 of you.

You kissed him like a starved man, quick to get your hands beneath his shirt to feel the dip

Jean moaned against your lips, hands following suit as they slid along your thighs, gripping your hips tightly.

‘God. I’ve wanted this everyday since I last saw you.’ He whispered before pulling away slightly, looking into your eyes. You were quick to pull him back in, whispering against his lips.

‘Then don’t stop.’

He was hesitant for a moment before leaning down to once again taste your lips. He grabbed you around the waist, wrapping his arms around you as your legs wrapped around him.

‘I love you.’

You paused for a minute, almost like you were scared of the words, before you pulled away and kissed his jaw up to his ear.

‘Show me then.’

With a smile, Jean hoisted you atop the counter, positioning himself between your legs while he attacked your neck. A soft whimper came from your mouth, and your fingers tangled with the hair at his nape.

‘You like that?’ He nipped at your neck again, hips grinding languidly against yours. You grinded against him, making you both breath deep as his hands pressed you against the counter. ‘You haven’t changed.’

You grinned, pulling his chin up to look at you.

‘Will you fuck me on the kitchen counter?’

‘You’re a hot mess, aren’t you?’ He chuckled, his judgement clouded by lust and desire. You shurgged.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

‘You’re so slutty.’ He teased and pecked your lips, but still started to undo his belt. Your grin widened, and you took his free hand, trailing it up your torso to massage your tit through the fabric of your shirt.

His breath hitched, and his fingers searched for your hardened nipple as he pulled his erection free of its restrictions. Seeing his throbbing cock, you slid your shorts and underwear to your ankles, revealing yourself to the man.

‘Fuck. You’re gorgeous.’ He stepped closer, swiping his tip through your wet folds and groaning as he sank into you.

Head thrown back, you gripped his hand that was on your breast, while your other held his nape, keeping you upright.

‘Holy shit-‘

‘That’s right, baby. Just like that. Take it all.’ He started with moving slowly, dragging himself along your walls with a string of soft grunts. But as he felt you relax around him, he picked up speed, skin slapping together in rhythm.

Damn did you miss this. Both of you missed it. Missed the way he’d tease you by changing pace, but just not enough teasing to annoy you. Missed the way you had to keep a hand over your mouth so the neighbours couldn’t hear you being fucked by your brothers best friend.

Jean leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his thrusts growing deeper and more intense as he felt you clench around him tightly.

‘Jean.’ You whimpered, interlacing your fingers.

‘I know, baby.’ He bit your bottom lip, feeling the pleasure coursing through you both. He could tell by the way your body was reacting that you were close, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t either, noticeable by his movements becoming more desperate.

You did your best to grind your hips to his timing, making you both groan. Eyes rolled at the overwhelming sensation, unable to hold back any longer.

‘Fuck. I’m gonna cum.’

‘You can cum inside.’ You panted, pulling his lips back to yours. With a few final thrusts, he groaned as he released his seed deep inside you, feeling your wall clench around him in the most perfect way. You came hard at the same time, trembling against him as the aftermath washed over you both.

‘Fuck, baby…’ Leaning heavily forwards and stabilising himself on the counter, he pressed gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone. Your hand on the back of his neck found its way to his hair, running your fingers through the strands.

‘T-That was good.’

He sighed, an unmatched sense of comfort in your presence. Arm wrapped around you, he pulled back to look in your eyes.

‘God. I want you.’ His face was flushed, like he was embarrassed to admit it. You smiled, brushing his hair out of his face.

‘Then you can have me.’ His heart races at your words. searching your eyes like they would tell him how serious you were being. You just grin, pulling him back down for another kiss. Another kiss, just as the front door opens.

‘Shit.’

© kodydrs

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated.

[hanayori89]

A Hero’s Choice: A Skyward Sword Fanfic

🪶 Hello all! I just wrote this for fun and have no direction with this. I just like Skyward Sword and fluff as comfort writing material 🪶

***** Some Fluff *****

Lesson 1: A Repulsive Romance

 It was pretty nauseating. 

Your elbow was planted firmly on your desk, and your hand curled beneath your chin, causing your arm to resemble a doric column as it supported the heavy infrastructure of your head. Your eyes kept fluttering closed. 

"Y/N!"

Professor Owlan's voice boomed across the classroom. "Would you like to answer my question?"

"Uh-" Your frantic eyes searched the patient expressions of your fellow classmates. 

Your friend Karane elbowed you from your left side." He was asking how to soothe a distraught Loftwing midflight." She sighed beneath her breath.

"Oh, yes, to soothe a Loftwing midflight, it is imperative to make sure you speak in a mild tone, find the pressure point on top of its head, and rub it."

"Why?" Professor Owlan inquired. From the harsh cut of his voice, it was clear he caught you dozing off.

"Because this pressure point, when massaged, is connected to the Loftwing's central nervous system and will flood it with feel-good endorphins."

"Very well. Take your hand off your head, please." He reprimanded you before continuing to swat the whiteboard with his ruler.

"Y/N, you are training too hard." Karane chided from beside you. "It's important to keep your grades up too. Being a knight isn't all about brawn, you know?" 

"I know that, but I have to! I can't let-" Your eyes looked over to see your rival and friend, Link, gazing at you from over his shoulder. When he caught you staring at him, he looked away.

Karane continued, "Link will always have an advantage because of Zelda."

And there it was. The name that made your stomach churn.

Zelda.

She was Headmaster Gaepora's daughter and the most sought-after girl in all of Skyloft. With cascading strands of gold and features symmetrical like the grand goddess statue, Zelda had a face that could rob a man of his voice.  

And she was in love with Link.

You let your eyes wander in Zelda's direction. She sat behind Link, her eyes half-massed, as she stared at him as if he were a freshly baked cake. 

"Y/N..."

You turned to see Karane observing you.

"Are you sure you don't like Link?"

"Um. Ew. Actually, Ew." 

"You're the only girl that thinks Link is "ew." She chuckled as you made an exaggerated grimace. 

"Y/N, Karane," Professor Owlan hissed. "Would you care to share with the class what is so important you need to whisper during this lecture. 

You saw Link's blue eyes bubble with curiosity as he peered at you once more from over his shoulder. 

"Y/N here isn't taking care of herself, and I am imploring her; she needs to do better because the upcoming Loftwing ceremony is a mere week away." She stood up, causing a scene, which, as your best friend, you knew was her tactic to distract the class from Professor Owlan's question.

"Are you all making sure you're sleeping? Eating your protein and vegetables? Staying hydrated? This ceremony is a big deal, and we all need to make sure we are taking care of ourselves for this competition."

Fletch raised his hand; his eyebrows were knit upward in a way that made his face constantly appear clueless. "Actually, I haven't been sleeping well myself. I am quite nervous."

The sound of a slam made the entire class jump. Groose stood, his massive hands slapping his desk once again. "Psht. As if eight hours of sleep are going to give you all some magical benefit against me. We all know I will be Zelda's chosen hero." Groose stood, pumping his bicep muscles in a slow and deliberate manner, as if someone were inflating a balloon beneath his flesh.

"Ok, enough!" But as the chatter of uncertain voices began to carry throughout the class, the bell sounded, and Professor Owlan's admonishment went unacknowledged. 

As books began to slam shut and chairs slid across the polished wooden floors of the classroom, you began to gather your things. You were hoping to sneak in a quick nap before you went over to Eagus's dojo and did another round of grueling sword training.

"Y/N." 

You turned to see Link staring at you.

"You really are pushing yourself too hard." His voice was feathery, like his dark blond hair. "You have bags beneath your eyes."

You dropped your bookbag, your hands flying to your hips. "Not all of us have favoritism on our side, Link!" 

His expression shifted, and he looked down at his shoes, hurt plastered on his face.

"Well?" You kept goading him on. "Did I hit a nerve? Your Zelda's favorite; we all know who really is going to win, but at the very least, I want to lose knowing I tried my very best."

"You're amazing, Y/N. Your determination and persistence are unlike anyone here, including myself."

His unexpected compliment knocked you off your high horse. You allowed yourself a momentary glance at him, the sincerity in his eyes made your chest constrict. A feeling that would happen sometimes when your eyes would meet. 

Something else that you found nauseating.

"I just want to be better than you." Your response offered him no other opening to continue the conversation.

He opened his lips, but Zelda came running over. "Link!" She laced her fingers into his. Come on, let's go practice with our Loftwing. There's a perfect breeze that will be beneficial for our practice today." Zelda turned and looked at you. A surreptitious glint was reflected in the way she looked at you, and you could translate it simply as jealousy. It couldn't even be hidden beneath her saccharine smile. 

"Hello Y/N. You should get some practice, too. Perhaps you and Karane can take advantage of this phenomenal weather we are having."

There it was. You and Karane. Because Link was hers and would never be anyone else's.

Not that you cared. 

Link was nothing more than a pretty face who could somewhat wield a sword. 

She could have him.

But as she pulled him away, he gave you a lingering look, and your chest began to constrict in that familiar way you despised.

It was pretty nauseating. 

Edited: 5/8/24

[f0xglove488]

Billy's Sick

billy hargrove x fem word count: 4,021 warnings: swearing synopsis: Big bad Billy Hargrove was sick and had no one to give a damn about him. Until he heard a knock on the door... a/n: It's been a minute since I wrote anything and I've never posted a fanfic on tumblr before so bare with me lol depending on how this goes maybe expect more!? And possibly opening up to requests? Okayokay maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Enjoy!!!

Billy was sick.

Which was bullshit.

He didn’t get sick often. In fact, rarely ever. Sure, he was human but he took care of himself. His body was constantly fueled, nourished, exercised and one of his main points of focus - almost as a distraction from all the other crap in his life he had to deal with.

But none of that changed the fact that he was, in fact, sick.

He’d stayed home from school and bummed around lazily, free reign of the place since his parents were at work and his stepsister was at school.

He tried to work out but got winded and exhausted, and in a huff ended up on the couch with his feet up and an old ratty blue robe on.

When Max came home from school, she barely looked in his direction, kicking off her sneakers and going into her room. Not even so much as a ‘how you feeling?’ – not that he cared, but he had loaded up a sarcastic comment if she had asked, and now he didn’t get to use it.

When a knock on the door came, he let out a soft grunt as he got up in his socks and shuffled to the door. He was about to open it before he saw who was standing there from the top of the little glass panes on the door.

In an instant he had ducked under the door, to the side, out of sight. “Crap.” He mumbled.

It was her.

Of course it was her. Here he was looking disheveled and like shit, in a crappy ratty old robe that he’d had for years. His hair was flat, ratty and messy. He didn’t have cologne on. He was not Billy Hargrove.

Maybe if he stayed down she’d just go away…

But, nope.

She knocked again.

After a moment Max came out of her room in annoyance, going over to the door but halting at seeing Billy crouched down alongside it. “Um. Are you going to get that?” She asked, confused.

“No, I’m not going to get that.” He said angrily, keeping his voice low. Was it not obvious by the way he was literally on the floor ignoring it? “You answer. See what she wants.”

“See what who wants?”

“Just answer, Maxine!” He said, voice almost too loud as he realized he had to lower it again. He gave his stepsister a sharp look and Max rolled her eyes as she stepped closer and threw the door open.

Max took in the girl in front of her. She knew her from school, one of the girls in Billys grade but not one of the ones she’d noticed him bring over before. Maybe this was a new one? Maybe it was a girl Billy used up and wanted nothing to do with and that’s why he wouldn’t go to the door? That wouldn’t exactly be the first time.

The girl smiles softly. Her lips are lightly pink dusted, dark brown hair curled but in a way that looked natural (but Max could tell wasn’t.) Khol rimed eyes. She was pretty. Soft. Softer looking than some of the other girls Billy usually went for – nothing against them, they just usually had their hair teased in hairspray or shiny gel and they talked while chewing gum and just – he had  type.

“Hey.” She says, and her voice is soft and light and not overly bubbly or overly low and sultry either. Okay. So this also wasn’t one of the girls that would call to speak with Billy because she didn’t recognize her voice either. Must be a new one. Had to be. “Is Billy home?”

Max looked out of the corner of her eye to Billy on the ground, waving his arms frantically to signal no, he was not. Cool, okay, she could cover for him, why not? “No, he’s out.” She lied, crossing her arms a little.

The girl looked to his car in the driveway, then back to Max. “Isn’t that his Camaro?”

Billy rolled his eyes. God, what was she, a detective?

Max sways on her feet a little. “Um, yes. But. He. Walked somewhere.” She says and if she looked at Billy she knows he’d be annoyed at her failed lie. “Oh, a friend picked him up!” She said instead like this was a much better lie and Billy smacked his palm to his head.

“Right…” The girl said, not buying it but not looking bothered either. She had a small smile on her lips like she found this amusing. “Well, he wasn’t in school so I grabbed his work for him.” She says casually as she looks down at the books and papers she held against her chest. “Can I come in? I’ll just leave it in his room with a note explaining what to do.”

Max looked to Billy again as he went back to waving his hands and blazing his eyes at her.  No, no, hell no. “Um…” She was trying to figure out what Billy was miming. He was trying to mouth the words contagious and charading sickness but Max stared at him blankly.

The girl clears her throat. “He’s right there, isn’t he?” She asks, nudging to the side of the door as Billy freezes and Max quickly looks back to her. Max’s slight delay just makes her feel more confirmed in this. “What are you looking at if it’s not him?” Her lips turn up into a small sly smile.

“A bug.” Max says fast and Billy groans lightly again.

The girl nods, a knowing look on her face. “Hi, Billy.” She says a bit louder for him to hear. Billy curses under his breath. He could pretend he really wasn’t there or he could admit defeat now.

“Hi, Vee.” He says back loud enough for her to hear but not coming out. “Look, I’m contagious so you can just leave that crap on the doorstep. Next time maybe don’t do things people didn’t ask you to do.” He says, annoyed at her for even getting his stuff for him.

Max steps to the side a little, not sure what to do.

“You’re welcome.” The girl says back happily, clearly ignoring Billys detest here. “You sound like shit, by the way.”

“Well I’m sick.” He snaps.

“Right.” She says back. “What do you have?”

“Excuse me?”

“What are you sick with?”

“How the hell should I know?” He damn near yells now, but it just pains his throat and he has to cough instead.

The girl looks unphased. “If you don’t know what you have how do you know you’re contagious?” She asks. Billy lets out another annoyed groan. “Have you eaten anything?”

“What??” He says, irritation mounting that she’s still even here. He stands up a bit but still doesn’t come to the door, hovering behind it. “No, I didn’t eat anything. Why the hell does that matter?”

The girl huffs, annoyed. “Can I just come in?”

“No.” He says quickly. “Leave the shit and go. Or hell, take it with you, I don’t care.”

Max shifts on her feet as she backs up a little. “Uhh, I’m gunna go.”

“Max don’t you dare you little shit.” Billy says, glaring at her, but it’s too late – she’s scampered off, not wanting to be involved or have to listen to this whole conversation that didn’t concern her. Billy ran his hand through his messy hair, holding in a deep pained noise. “Can you just leave?” He asks to the open doorway as he still lingers beside it, against the wall out of sight.

The girl stepped in as if an open invitation was offered, which it wasn’t, and she looks to the side to see Billy standing there. “Jesus! You can’t just walk into someone’s damn house!” He snapped, pulling his robe closed more. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He never looked bad, even a black eye or busted lip worked for him. Sick with a congested nose and flushed cheeks was not how he wanted to be seen.

“You’re sick.” She says plainly, giving him a quick glance before putting his stuff down on the living room table. “And you haven’t eaten anything. I’m making you food.”

Billys stunned silent for a moment. He feels a mixture of anger and shock and he doesn’t know which is stronger. “The hell you are.” He snaps but she’s already walked off to the kitchen like she knows the damn place, which she doesn’t, she’s never even been here before. He watches as she opens cabinets, looking for something to make and his irritation grows. “You seriously can’t just walk into someone’s house and start cooking!” He snaps, but his anger irritates his throat and he rubs his neck, holding in another cough.

She shoots him a look but goes back to her pursuit as she seems to hit the jackpot, finding canned soup and pulling it out. “Stop being so annoying.” She says, not even looking at him. “I get it. You’re an asshole and you don’t need anyone. Super fascinating stuff, Billy.” She quips as she pries the lid off and sets about looking for a pan. “But face it. You’re sick. You haven’t eaten and god knows you probably haven’t been drinking fluids. Let me just do this and I’ll be out of your hair and you can pretend it never happened, cool?”

His tongue feels swollen in his mouth as he gets read to object, to continue being harsh and rude to her – but she’s already put the soup in the pan and she’s already making it.  She looks to him again as if waiting for him to say something but he doesn’t, just clenches his jaw a little and trying to be defiant to this. “You should sit, you’re sick.” She tells him, her eyes shooting to the chair at the small rounded circle table behind her.

“Oh so now you’re going to boss me around, too?” He quips, but he sits down, because honestly his body felt heavy and sluggish. He’d usually put up way more of a fight. He’s not sure why he isn’t. Maybe because he’s sick. He’s just too tired to bother. That was probably what it was.

Or maybe it was because this girl just blustered into his home and started cooking for him.

Sure, it was just canned soup, but still. He can’t remember the last time anyone gave a shit enough to go out of their way for him.

He quietly observes her. She’s in a knee high wool skirt, navy blue turtle neck sweater. Honestly the outfit itself could come across as nerdy but the way it hugged her body gave more of sexy liberaian than anything else. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of her in that way before – a sexual nature. She wasn’t special though, he thought of most women that way.

“So, what’s wrong?” She asks softly as she stirs the pot and looks at him over her shoulder.

“I’m sick.” He says gruffly, as though it were obvious.

“I know that.” She says, voice annoyed. “But what’s wrong? Cold? Flu? What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know it’s not like I ran out to the doctor like some little pussy.” He says back, glaring at her even though she couldn’t see it. He waits to see if his words affect her, if she flinches or gets disgusted by them but she doesn’t react at all and for some reason that makes him more annoyed. He wanted a reaction out of her.

“But what are you feeling?” She repeats.

“Sore throat. Runny nose or stuffy nose, it switches.” He tells her, looking away. “And I don’t know I just feel…kind of drained.” His brain said he felt weak but the word alone sent a cold shiver down his spine. He wasn’t weak. He’d never describe himself as weak. That was something his father told him, something he heard too many times before.

“Do you have a fever?” She asks as she pokes around for a bowl and pulls two out casually.

“How the hell should I know?” He asks, getting annoyed by her constant asking.

He watches as she pours the soup into the bowl and then sets it down in front of him. Without a second thought her hand goes to his forehead, pushing his hair back.

What the fuck?

He flinches, pushes back but her hand stays firmly in place. “You’re a little warm.” She says, voice soft like velvet. Her hand drops away as if nothing happened but he’s sitting there whirling.

It takes him a second to respond, still shook up by the whole ordeal. He regains his composure, the anger coming back quickly. “I’m always warm, I run hot.” He says quickly. He almost doesn’t even want to touch the soup just to spite her but his stomach lets out a low growl and he can’t help but pick up the spoon slightly dejectedly.

He hated this. He hated being taken care of like he was some pathetic incapable loser. It made him feel small. It made him feel…

It was chicken noodle soup. Memories of his mother flashed in his eyes. It was too familiar and it’d been too long.

She doesn’t notice his inner turmoil brewing. She’s too busy pouring another bowl of soup. Was she going to eat with him? The thought made him nervous. He didn’t want to sit here and eat with her like she was his goddamn mother or wife or something.

Instead, she calls out Maxs name and Billy looks at her, confused.

Max pokes her head out of her room, looking at them from down the hall.

“I made you soup.” She says, lifting up the bowl.

Jesus she was pretty.

She was pretty and soft and warm.

And she was standing in his goddamn kitchen making him soup.

Max comes over, taking her headphones off her ears. “Oh, uh, no thanks. I’m not really hungry.”

Her eyes narrow though as Max says this. “Come on. I know if Billy didn’t eat you probably didn’t eat either.”

It’s like there’s a standoff as Max looks at her, then at the soup, then back at her. Quickly, like a little mouse, she grabs the bowl, looking down at it as though she was still skeptical. “Thanks.” She mumbles softly as she scampers back off to her room.

“You don’t have to do that shit.” Billy says, looking back at her. What was her deal? Did she like him or something? He knew with some of the girls that tried to get his attention they’d try to go through Max, trying to make it seem like they cared about him so much that they cared about her too. It was always weird and made Billy feel disgusted. He hated desperation and he could usually smell it on girls.

He didn’t smell it on her, though.

He didn’t know what the fuck she was.

She puts the pan in the sink and starts filling it with water and she was…oh for the love of god she was cleaning it. Billy continues eating but feels like he wants to strangle her. Seriously, what the hell was this? What was she doing? Why the hell was she doing this?

She had to like him, right? This had to be her attempt to get into his good graces.

When she’s finished she eyes his empty bowl and goes over to take it but Billy stops her, his hands gripping it. “Stop.”

“What?” She says, her almond eyes widening a little.

“Stop doing this shit. What are you doing?” He just about snarls.

She blinks a couple times, clearly taken aback but also not looking entirely surprised. “I’m taking care of you.” She says, voice annoyed still. She didn’t know why she had to explain this. He was sick. She was just doing him a solid. He was being difficult for no reason, as always.

“Well, fucking stop. I didn’t ask for you to take care of me and I don’t need some random girl coming in here and-“

“I’m done.” She says with a shrug, cutting him off before he can get more riled up and defensive. “I finished. No need to lecture. Wash your own bowl then, geez.”

He stares at her, still trying to figure her out. So that was it? Just come  in, unwanted, cook him food and bail? 

“So now you’re just going to leave?” He asks gruffly, sitting back in the chair.

She looks around the kitchen and he’s not sure what she’s looking for or at. Something else to do? “I mean, yeah. Unless you want me to stay?”

Please stay.

His lips turn down into a scowl. He’s mad at himself for even thinking that. “Leave. And don’t try this shit again. And if I don’t come to school tomorrow don’t fucking get my things for me, I didn’t ask you to do that and I don’t give a crap about what I missed.”

He wants her to react. He wants her to look hurt or upset but she doesn’t. She’s unphased and it pisses him off more. Why the hell wasn’t she scared of him? Why the hell wasn’t she upset? He was being an asshole. He knew he was being an asshole. This beautiful, stubborn girl just walked into his house and took it upon herself to take care of him and he was treating her like she was nothing but a burden – a pain.

Fuck. Why was he like this?

“Okay.” She says with a little smile. “Drink fluids. Rest! Remember to eat.”

He scoffs a little, standing as he walks with her to the door. “Why? If I don’t is the pretty little soup angel going to come back?” He asks. He knows he’s flirting while also being a jerk. Maybe the food did help. That was more like his usual self.

She’s just still smiling and he wishes he could fucking smell her. It was a weird thought, he knew, but his nose was clogged and he couldn’t smell her or the soup or anything. In History class, when she sat in front of him he could smell her perfume – warm, musky, spiced. She smelt like fall. Like seasons changing. Everything about her from her sweaters to her hair screamed ember and honey. She goes back to his textbook and rips out a little piece of paper, pulling a pen from her bag. “Seriously, though. If you need anything or want to go to the doctor or something feel free to call me. You know I live like, two blocks away, right?”

He did not know that. Why would he know that?

Why was this girl barely even on his radar?

Obviously he’d noticed her. Obviously they’d shared small chatter before. Obviously he watched the back of her head like a hawk instead of actually listening to his teachers words, but he never considered her. Not like he considered other girls.

He never considered her as one of his conquests.

Not because he hadn’t wanted to…

“Yeah, I’ll call you.” He says with a fake smile, as if letting her know that he won’t in fact be calling. He holds the door open for her and watches as she hesitates to leave. Was she waiting for a thank you? Or was she just worried about him?

Could she be worried about him?

Jesus, being sick was making him mental. Why the hell should he care if some girl actually gave a shit? It’s not like she knew him, knew who he really was or what he was like. If she did she’d be running for the hills.

“Feel better.” She says, soft smile still on her perfect pink lips. He watched as she walked through it and down the stairs and past his car and –

He shut the door.

She was gone.

Jesus, thank fuck.

His breathing is fast and he takes a second, presses his forehead to the closed door to compose himself.

He goes back to school on Monday.

Maybe he takes a little bit more time on his appearance, and maybe it has something to do with the fact that the last time she saw him he looked like shit and he wants to remind her that he is, in fact, hot.

But he doesn’t want to look like he’s trying too hard so he throws on his deniem jeans and jacket over a basic white tee.

He knows his ass looks good in these pants and he imagines her staring as he walks past her to his seat.

But when the bell rings and he goes to class, her desk is empty.

And this royally fucks up his whole day.

He hadn’t really wanted to see her. In fact, he was partially dreading seeing her. He fully intended to flat out ignore her. He didn’t want her to think what she did mattered or that she was important in any way shape or form. He didn’t want to think they had some connection or bond just because she took care of him – without his asking.

Maybe she was just late?

But no, she was always here first. So what gives?

He leans forward in his seat and looks to the girl she was always chattering with. “Hey.” He says, trying to get her attention which is easy because, let’s face it, it’s him. “Where is she?” He asks, nodding his head toward the desk.

“She’s out sick.” The girl says back, looking confused as to why he’s even asking. “Must be something going around.” She turns back around in her seat, and Billy can tell she’s probably going to tell her that he’d been asking about her. Damnit.

He sits back in his seat.

Aw, hell. He got her sick.

Fuck.

The rest of the school day was long and he was in a sour mood now. He’d literally gotten up this morning with the motivation of seeing her.

Not that he cared but still.

Tommy kept getting on his nerves and he wasn’t really in the right head space for basketball. The whole day just dragged.

By the end of last period he couldn’t take it and bailed. Max could get a ride with one of her loser friends, besides, she’d notice his car gone immediately anyway.

It’s about thirty minutes later when he’s driving around, looking for her house. Two blocks away she said. Two blocks away from him.

He finally saw her car out front of a small, yellow cozy looking house. He stopped, parking the car and walking up to her front door, feeling like a jackass.

He knocked.

Then waited.

Then knocked again.

And then there she was.

Her eyes widen as she sees him. She was in plaid pajama pants, a white tee shirt with some cartoon on it that he didn’t know. He felt better now, seeing her like this after she had seen him in his damn bathrobe. Her hair was messy, cheeks red, but she still looked cute. She looked younger, more vulnerable like this.

She goes to open her mouth but Billy just thrusts a brown paper bag in her arms so fast she nearly drops it. “What’s this?” She asks, looking down.

“Soup.” He says, and suddenly he feels stupid. Really stupid. “It’s not a big deal or anything I just heard you were sick and on the way home I was driving past this diner and-“

“Thank you.” She says quickly, hugging the bag to her chest. God, she had a habit of cutting him off didn’t she? He stands back gruffly, putting his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t eaten. This is actually awesome.” Despite how sick she looked, her smile beamed at him.

“Not a big deal.” He repeats. “I gotta go.”

Before she can say anything else he turns and leaves.

At least now she could see how good his ass looked in these jeans.

[mrsshabana]

Canon!Gyutaro x Modern!Reader

♥ CW: Female reader. Pure fluff!

♥ AN: Thank you again for 300 followers! I am posting this in celebration of this milestone. I wrote this months ago, just for fun. And it has been sitting in my drafts ever since. I think the theme is very fitting. And if you all like it, I wouldn't mind making a part two some day!

♥ WC: 1,117

I wonder if Mrs.Shabana posted anything new today?

You think to yourself, pulling out your cellphone as you walk down a dank alleyway. Checking tumblr has become a daily ritual for you ever since your obsession began. Gyutaro from Demon Slayer. Something about him just called out to you, he made his way into your mind and never went away. Slowly spreading until the fictional character consumed every one of your thoughts. You just wish that he was real…

With a sigh, you continue walking. Having just gotten off a long shift, you’re excited to get home and go to sleep. Not before reading a fanfic or two first of course.

As you continue down the alley you stop for a moment, “Yes!” Gyusimp just posted a new oneshot. You’re too excited to wait, so you decide to read and walk at the same time.

So distracted by your phone, that you don’t realize something is stalking you. Something that wastes no time in pinning you to the ground, flipping you over so it can slit your neck with its weapon.

Something you thought was impossible.

“Gyutaro?!” You squeal with a mixture of excitement, shock, and fear.

He’s straddling you with his sickle held up to your neck. Hearing his name come out of your mouth, his eyes widen. Stumbling off of you as you take in his appearance with awe. He looks exactly as he does in the anime, handsome and sexy as all hell.

“You… you’re Gyutaro!” you pinch yourself to make sure that you aren’t dreaming. Even though you are sure that your mental state has finally broken and your obsession is warping your perception of reality, you don’t care because Gyutaro Shabana is sitting right in front of you!

Knowing everything that you do, you should be deathly afraid of him. But your corrupted love for the man blinds you. Crawling forward to get a closer look at him.

When he opens his mouth to ask you a question, you have no idea what he’s trying to say. 

He’s speaking in Japanese.

Oh fuck, this isn’t good. You somehow get the opportunity to meet the love of your life and here you are unable to understand each other. At least his name is universal, which is probably the reason why you aren’t dead right now. 

“Um hold on…” you quickly pull out your phone to use a translator. Typing in what you want to say and letting it speak to him.

You type, “Please don’t kill me, I know who you are.”

Gyutaro cocks his head to the side and frowns, asking you another question in an irritated tone.

“I can’t speak Japanese,” your phone relays your message to him. He starts to scratch his skin but his expression softens a bit. You don’t know what you should do with him, if this is really happening then how the hell did he get here? Who knows, but you love this man so you’re gonna do everything you can to help him out.

“Follow me. I will take you to my home where it is safe.”

You hope that he’ll follow you. Not knowing what his current situation is, maybe he already has a safe place to stay? You assume that he doesn’t, as he begins following you.

You aren’t too far from your apartment, looking back every minute or so to make sure Gyutaro is still there. He follows from a distance, unsure if he can even trust you. You could be a demon slayer for all he knows.

You open the door to your apartment, and he hesitantly follows you inside. Once he’s in, you quickly run around to hide all of the Gyutaro merch you have. It’d be so awkward if he saw the body pillow…

Once everything has been shoved into your closet you bring out the translator again. You want to ask him so many questions but how will you even be able to understand his responses? You have an idea. On your translator app there’s an option for it to listen and translate the spoken words. So maybe you could go back and forth that way.

“This device will let us communicate with each other. Speak into it” you speak into your phone, it spits out your statement in Japanese.

Gyutaro opens his mouth to respond, and you hold the phone in front of him to speak into. 

He speaks in Japanese and after a few seconds your phone gives you a translation, “Who are you and how do you know me?”

“My name is Y/N. I know you from a TV show.”

Gyutaro furrows his brows, “I do not understand what it means…”

The translation isn’t perfect, but it gets the point across. So if he doesn’t know what TV is, then does that mean he’s actually from the past? From the exact same universe as demon slayer? You try to say things in a way that he might be able to understand.

“A lot of people here know you. I like you a lot, so I want to help you.”

Your words seem to be making him even more confused, so you decide to just get to the important questions.

“How did you get here? Do you know where you are?”

Gyutaro shakes his head, opening his mouth to respond but then deciding against it. There’s something that he seems like he doesn’t want to tell you, “Do not know…”

“You aren’t in Japan anymore and it’s the future. You need to be careful here,” you respond to him.

“Can not understand. I have to find my sister.”

“Daki?” you say directly to him. Hearing her name come out of your mouth his eyes widen and he nods.

“I can try to help you find her.”

“How is a weak person like you going to help me?”

For a moment you forgot how mean he was in the anime… “I’m from this world, so I know where things are and how things work. You’ll need a place to stay away from the sun too. You can stay here.”

Gyutaro scowls and looks you up and down before responding, “Fine.”

If he was back in his world he would have killed you already. But he doesn’t know this place, it’s strange to him. So far, he hasn’t encountered any of the other demons either. You seem to be the only person that knows him. He still doesn’t quite understand how or why, but he is desperate right now. Desperate to find his sister and go back home. Even though he despises humans, he will keep you alive in hopes that you really can help him.

[keisha-knell]

The Aftermath

Info: so guys I wrote this scene for a hook fanfic I'm working on and I was thinking maybe I would post the scene on here and get opinions. I obviously won't have a end well maybe but I'm hoping to put it in the fanfic (Wattpad: Cheeselove123, BOOK: JUST PRETEND- HOOK FANFIC) - Please don't copy.

I walked into the back holding a cardboard tray with the coffee Tony ordered, I tapped Tony on the shoulder getting his attention. He turned around greeting me and taking his coffee but he didn’t have his usual smile, “Tony what’s going on?” I asked but he seemed so focused on the monitor. “Y/n” I turned seeing Adam and he looked at me with a worrying expression, “Adam what’s happening?” I asked feeling the panic arise within me.

“Y/n you know Tyler has a match right?” Adam asked and I looked at him so confused, “Yes I know he’s got a match” I said and Adam looked back at Tony. “Well um he’s doing well” Adam said hiding his worry, “Adam everything is not okay so what is going on?” I asked and his music hit. I moved in the gap getting a peak at the monitors, When I saw the monitors I gasped seeing Tyler struggling to get to his feet. I saw Adam page supporting Tyler helping him stand but Tyler just wasn’t having it, he rolled out of the ring and I could see Adam eyeing down Strickland before signalling Tyler back in the ring once Strickland left.

I watched Tyler get back in the ring looking like he was in so much pain, he was on his knees holding on to the bottom rope. The referee and Adam were checking on him before he got back up to his feet, he stood up walking around the ring looking around at he crowd before taking his belt and leaving the ring walking up the ramp. I ran to the side stage door waiting for Tyler only to see Tyler groaning in pain as he walked through the door almost limping. “Tyler” I said grabbing his attention seeing him lift his head with a defeated expression. I opened my arms letting Tyler walk into my arms as I wrapped them around him. He stood there for a second not moving before wrapping his arms around me.

I gently rubbed his back being mindful of the swelling on his back, “You did amazing” I said and he looked down at me forcing a smile. “Hey Kid” I looked behind Tyler seeing Joe walking towards us, Tyler turned around feeling dejected, “Kid your time will come one day I see a lot of potential in you” Joe said and I saw Tyler cheer up a little. Dr Sampson walked past us checking on Tyler following behind Pater who seemed extremely concerned for his son. “Son you alright?” Peter asked placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Dad I’m fine” Tyler mumbled as he hugged me from behind. “I’m going to head home” Tyler said as he rested the side of his head on my shoulder, “I’ll ask Tony if I can head back home with you” I said and I felt his nod against my shoulder.

“Ah Y/n” I heard Tony say as he came rushing towards us, “Tyler great match but are you okay?” Tony asked. Tyler nodded and I looked back at Tony, “Y/n you can take the rest of the night off shows technically over” I looked back at Tyler who forced another smile. “Thanks TK” I said wrapping my arm around Tyler’s midsection walking back to the dressing rooms, back in the dressing room Tyler grabbed his clothes and went to the showers. I heard the water turn on and the sound of the shower door open. I walked into the bathroom seeing Tyler with his hand against the wall letting the water run over him. The grimaces on his face and the expression of pain as he breathed heavily, I walked closer taking my clothes off to join Tyler in the shower.

Lathering some soap in my hands and running them down Tyler’s back, he turned around facing me. He leaned back against the shower wall, running my fingers through his hair and he’s arms wrapping themselves around me. The tips of his hair just barely touching my shoulder as I gently lathered his hair in shampoo. Tilting his head back to rinse I let him finish the rest before washing myself and getting out of the shower wrapping a towel around myself. A few minutes later I finished getting dressed and I was just laying on the bed watching TV when Tyler walked in and plopped down on the bed beside me turning on his side. “Ty you did good today” I whispered and he just stayed in his spot hugging my waist, “But I could’ve won” he said in a meek whisper. “You’ll win it one day just right now isn’t the right time” I reassured him running my hand through his hair.

[thottybrucewayne]

A LIST OF PEOPLE WHO ARE GOING TO HELL: 2024 EDITION

Every zionist, duh, but esp yall who screenshot perfectly reasonable posts and go "Um, the look at this idiot who thinks genocide is wrong" yall make my ass itch and nobody takes you seriously, MOVE. 2. The entire U.S. government but esp Joe Biden that old ass man gettin spit roasted in hell (AND NOT THE FUN KIND!) 3. DIDDY AND EVERY SINGLE PERSON THAT PROTECTED AND DEFENDED HIM. 4. Tory Lanez whole family, his mama, his daddy, his dog? All them. 5. The nonblack people who run those Rap House Tv type blogs that are clearly trying to be shade room clones. 6. People who get all their news from the Shade Room and Whatsapp, sorry auntie, I'm sick of you tellin' me COVID can be cured by sticking cloves of garlic up my nose :/ 7. Every single one of you dirtbag leftist ass people, yall do nothing for nobody except you thousands of adoring "former nazi" fans that need to be told it's okay that they still say the n word in private. 8. N.O.R.E and every single hiphop "journalist" 9. Charlemagne Tha God and Dj Envy, they know why. 10. Everyone who made Ike and Tina jokes after Tina past away. Grow up. 11. You fanfic girlies. So many of y'all are seeing the lake of fire, But esp if you donate to ao3 or own ao3 merch. Like, that is just embarrassing. 12. It's 2024, If I see you coming up here saying shit like "Miku wroke harry potter!" or " Hello Kitty wrote Ofmed, actually" I'm sending you to hell myself. 13. Booktokers? This is yall the second year on this list, tighten the fuck up and stop being weird about strange men on the internet, now. 14. People who do LITERALLY NOTHING yet try to tell other people how to be activists. You contribute nothing to any conversation you're a part of, suck my dick from the back. 15. People who stopped masking because other people were making them feel bad. Fuck your mama not being able to see your smile, PEOPLE ARE DYING???? 16. Lana Del Ray and Taylor Swift. They know exactly what they did. 17. Every white girl on twt who tried to jump me cause I said the Barbie movie is white feminism at its finest. 18. Elon, you raggedy bitch. 19. Every single man who hit on me this year who isn't one of my friends. 20. People who don't know what transmisogyny means and make that everyone else's problem. I need yall to start reading so bad it's not even funny. 21. You "goth is a feeling" people. You gonna be "feeling" that hell fire nippin' at your ass, NEXT 22. You 35 defending fanservice of high schoolers in anime/manga all day every day...yeah, just get on down there, big fella. They waiting on you. 23. Cishet Black men on tiktok and twt who make it their life's mission to make an ass of themselves for minor ducats. You are a one-man modern-day minstrel show and you will be dealt with. 24. White Tyler The Creator fans. Y'all know what you do.

Dishonorable mentions: Shojo fans who never talk about the fucked up shit in the manga they recc you because "At least its not as misogynistic as shounen!" (yes, yes it is) Fashion tiktokkers I hate so many of you its not even funny Every person who put the image of T.D. Jakes getting his doonies beat down at a Diddy party in my mind. Like I literally never needed to think about that. My dad <3 and all my friends' dads. Patricide NOW!!!!! People who are still whining about having to boycott shut upppppp god damn. People who stare at me in public. You got a fuckin problem?????

That's a wrap! Here are the lists from last year and the year before feel free to add more in the tags <3

[starfanatic]

Crafting the most controversial ranking of the olympians (including Hestia and Hades)

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST WAS INSPIRED BY @wanderingmind867

APOLLO: He's just fucking AWESOME???!!! What can I say? He's such a easy to like god when you don't let the stupid retellings poison you. He's the god of writing and music (both topics that I love) and just SO much more. I can't even grasp how much the greeks fucking loved this guy and so do I. In a more fanon-y way, in my head he's the best possible protagonist out of all the olympians for a story. There's so much nuance with him, and I just love psychoanalyzing him. I also think his relationships with other gods and every mortals is so INVESTING and intense if you think about it in the right way. Also I love blondes. Blondes are hot.

ARES: The more people hate him, the more I defend him. He gets so much undeserved bullshit, he should've been the Hades of our modern generation, he deserves it way more imo. He's a great father, a great lover, and he dances! DANCES! He's probably the god with the most misinformation besides maybe Hades. Ares kind of gives me the underdog affect? Yes he's this big huge god, but he loses FAR too much to be considered the "bully" like the myths advertise. And I get that it's supposed to be a message "brain over brawn" but quite frankly I could care less. Ares is treated bad by his parents, he just deserves so much more I love this guy. I love paralleling him with other gods too like Athena or Apollo or Zeus. He's just so fun to write.

APHRODITE: I feel the exact same way for her as I feel for Ares. I used to hate her SO MUCH, until I realized how misled I was. APHRODITE IS FUN. The only thing is that I'd defend her wrongs because I don't give a shit. "Aphrodite was petty" IDC!!!! I hate how authors (Rick.) write her. She's SO much more then what she's reduced too. She's SO powerful. I think the only reason she's not equal to Ares because I don't know a lot of her myths. She's serving cunt ALWAYS.

POSEIDON: Poseidon being so high is probably a disservice to society. BUT HES SO COOL AND SO POWERFUL????!!! Yes he does shitty stuff I'm not gonna pretend he doesn't, but seeing him in stories is just so entertaining. I typically like reading fanfics with him during the titanomachy or just fanfics where he's being a great uncle (so... super not accurate but it's entertaining). Ngl I giggled when he asked Apollo to fight him during the trojan war and Apollo said "nah im good". Poseidon is a BEAST in the fight with cool ass powers and a BEAST in bed (um.. when it's consentual... fuck I hate greek mythology sometimes). STORMBRINGER (i hope that's Poseidon and not Zeus???) GOD OF THE SEAS

HERMES: Hermes is kind of low, but NOT BECAUSE I DONT LOVE HIM. I tend to like gods who are a bit... violent if it wasn't obvious by the top 4? And even though I know Hermes can be violent I never see him BE violent. He just seems too perfect for me? Name one flaw he has that the other gods don't also have. HOWEVER he's so fun to read about, I don't like Percy Jackson but when I saw Hermes in the tv show I jumped out of my seat. I really like him with Apollo though, it brings a level of complexity that I LOVE.

zeus... I can explain. OKAY SO, I LOVE COMPLEX CHARACTER RIGHT AND GUESS WHO IS A VERY NUANCED GOD IN MYTHOLOGY??? ZEUS! I specifically like him from the titanomachy, because I like to think he was just... different when he was younger. Kind of like one of the typical heroes until the power he has changes him over time. I wish someone wrote a retelling because I'd love to see Zeus and Rhea or Zeus and Cronos interactions during the war. Disclaimer, I'm aware he does shitty shit but so does everyone on this list besides like Hestia and...that's it.

DIONYSUS: His low ranking is more to do with the lack of knowledge but also I'm not too interested in the domains he involves himself with. Never went to a party, never did drugs, never drunk alcohol, etc. HOWEVER I love when Dionysus is completely unhinged. God of MADNESS GUYS!!! ITS IMPORTANT! I love the myths where he's genuinely just being scary as fuck, I love how powerful but underestimated he is.

HERA: She deserves better. If I was her I'd do worse, but like... not to innocent children and women. That's all.

ATHENA: I don't find her that interesting. She just kind of reminds me of that one girl in the class who reminds the teacher they have homework. I am aware that I AM biased though, my top 4 gods consisted of 2 gods that are at odds with her. I just don't like how biased the myths were in her favor, it kind of makes her boring. If Ares or Athena lost equally I wouldn't mind her, but she wins every single time. Even when she loses, Zeus doesn't care and let's her get away with it anyway. Athena, for me, absolutely requires other gods to add complexity to her character.

DEMETER: I like her out of spite because I don't like Hades x Persephone shippers from modern retellings. In particular I don't like the Hades x Persephone shippers that hate on Demeter as if they know anything about her. She's only low because I like a lot of other gods better and I just feel like I'd never be able to write anything with her as a main character because I've never "psychoanalyzed" her like I did the other gods.

HESTIA: *shrug* I don't know her that well, and she doesn't seem to really have any myths to jump off from. The lack of myths and personality puts her low on the list. Though I do love how sweet she is.

HEPHAESTUS: ...he bores me. He doesn't offer anything to me whatsoever. I don't necessarily feel bad for him for the Aphrodite situation either, and I hate when a lot of people who like Hephaestus ignore VERY IMPORTANT details on the myths to serve their purpose. The majority of it is just plain boredom, but I hate how everyone villainized Aphrodite and Ares.

HADES: ...sigh. He's a bit of a unfair one. I'm not someone who can seperate the god from the people who like the god. A lot of Hades fans tend to just piss me off based off the most obvious misinformation in the entire world. I HATE how they try to hate on the other Olympians as if Hades is somehow better then him? He has no myths that doesn't make him better, we just don't have a lot of him. I don't find him necessarily interesting, and I desperately wish for the retellings for him to end. It's not really fair because it's less the god and more the "fans" but whatever it is what it is.

[viktuurishipper96]

Scenario two: Oliver sees a Scottish beauty in bed.

When Oliver finished his work for the day and he and toad went home. When they arrived at the mansion at the McIntosh/Collett/Armstrong residences( equivalent to ducks branch line), he sees a note that Douglas wrote and says “meet me in the bedroom my darling , you and I are going to have some fun. See you tonight honey💋”. Oliver blushes and gets a nosebleed, so toad asked him “Um are you alright Mr. Oliver?” Oliver answer to toad “oh yes I’m fine! it’s just Douglas is so beautiful and I can’t take my eyes off of him especially his smile, his beauty, his body and his intelligence” he said dreamily. Afterwards, he took toad to his own bedroom and tucked him in for a good night sleep and closed the door. Soon after, Oliver was following a trail of red rose petals; and when he arrived at their master bed room, he saw the most gorgeous figure while wearing a beautiful blue see through robe as Douglas lies down in his rounded bed with a canopy on top while making a suggestive movement including using his bedroom eyes and bitting his lips. When Douglas crawled up to Oliver, he said “Welcome home, Ollie” he said seductively as he offers a bite of the chocolate covered strawberries and pats the soft satin sheets that awaits for Oliver. Then afterwards, the two kissed and held each other tight for a night of romance. Soon after, the two started to cuddle and Oliver caresses Douglas beautiful hair and said “Douglas, you’re the most beautiful and gorgeous person I’ve met. I’m so happy that we’re soulmates and newly weds.” Then Douglas says “oh Oliver, you’re the most handsome person I’ve met ever since I’ve saved you and toad from scrap. My darling, we are soulmates and newly weds now.” Finally, Douglas and Oliver began to drift off to sleep and he placed his hand onto Oliver’s chest and the two heartbeats beats as one. And so, the two soulmates fell asleep and they will never let go. The end 🖤💚

whew that was a beautiful scenario with Douglas and Oliver with toad mentioned. I promise I’ll finish my fanart of Donald. It’s my attempt to do a Douglas x Oliver fanfic so enjoy. And if you’re wondering, it’s based off of a fanart that I did

[littlefoldedpaperstars]

i can't believe i wrote my first fanfic because i had a really stupid idea and thought that it was so dumb it HAD to be brought into this world.

um it's basically a no exy au where jeremy is convinced that jean is a vampire and jean is not in fact a vampire.

am i slightly ashamed of this fic?

yes.

am i still posting about it?

also yes.

[kairiscorner]

Hello again! I was the anon that requested the spider noir and his daughter fic!! (I’m back again lol) I just wanted to let u know that the request you wrote for me was so adorable and I loved reading it!! Omg and the note at the end of peni being their adoptive daughter and being a big sister was so cute I almost cried reading it 😭😭😭 I would honestly love to request a fanfic or headcanons of peni being an adopted older sister but I didn’t want to be too much of a burden. But then again thank you so much for writing my requests!!! Make sure to take breaks :))

HI ANON :DD aww, glad to hear that <:)) MAN I DO WANNA WRITE IT, DON'T YOU WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD, YOU'RE NEVER A BURDEN OKKKK 🫶🫶🫶

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

after the events of peter vanishing and coming back home from a mysterious portal opening up and bringing him to a foreign dimension, he came home with... a girl. he was holding her hand in his, much like how peter would hold your daughter's hand when they were out and about.

"peter, who... who's she?" you'd ask with a smile as the girl met your gaze and grinned widely. peter smiled back at you when he noticed you beam at her. "she's peni, peni parker. she's another spider person, just like me and ham." he explained. peni bowed in front of you and smiled yet again. "it's very nice to meet you, mx. parker!" she exclaimed with a twinkle in her eye.

you chuckled as lightly bowed back at her. "well hello to you, too, peni. peter, why don't we take her inside and you both, um... explain what's happening." you said as you let them in and closed the door. peter had explained that peni was visiting his dimension for a little while, there were some issues back at her home dimension that she couldn't really solve on her own, so as refuge, she sought for him and his home. he offered to peni before that his door was always open for her, and if she ever needed him, he'd be there right away.

you nodded along as he spoke, and you noticed that peni was, despite her chipper demeanor earlier, actually a little reserved. she sat in a tense manner; keeping her hands on her lap and her head down, with her shoulders involuntarily hunching a little to make herself smaller than the adults in the room--she was shy, and she avoided eye contact with you two as you two spoke, so as not to appear as if she were eavesdropping.

"ah, peni?" you called out for her. she was a little startled that you called her, she hadn't expected that. "oh! y-yes, ms. parker?" she stammered. "would you, uh... like to play with our daughter for a bit? she's quite eager to meet you, it seems." you said as you picked up your daughter, who was staring at peni the whole time as she chewed on noir's rubicks cube.

peni looked over at the little girl, her expression becoming one of endearment as she waved at her. "if it's okay, i'd love to." she said with a small smile. noir put a hand on peni's shoulder, "why, acting like a wonderful big sister, aren't you?" he teased as peni gave a small chuckle back. "well, if i'll be around you guys for a while, i'd really love to hang out with this little cutie you guys have here." she said as you picked up your daughter and sat her next to peni.

peni looked at your daughter, and your daughter looked up at her. giggling, she extended her pudgy little arms out for peni, and peni reached her hands out for hers. "hi there, little baby... i'm peni." she said in a slow, gradual, big sisterly way as the baby babbled her name. "puh-puh... peh!" she babbled. peni giggled as you and noir watched from a distance, with you urging peter to get the camera to film this moment, with him cursing under his breath how he didn't accept miles' offer for a phone.

peni smiled wider. "that's right! pe-ni." "peh... pehn... pehhhh-ni!" she exclaimed. you and peni gasped in awe. "did you--did you hear that? mx. parker? she said my name, she, she said my name!" she exclaimed as your daughter wobbled up and fell into peni's arms. "i did, i did hear it!" you said with the biggest smile on your face.

peter came back down, rushing with old-timey camera equipment and with lopsided glasses on his face. "did i miss it?" he asked exasperatedly. he witnessed as peni and your daughter were giggling and repeating saying her name, and noir melted at the sight, nearly dropping the very expensive equipment.

you giggled as you went over to help peter set the camera up. "even if you missed her saying her name, we can... take a photo of this momentous occasion." you offered as peter took your hand. peni was all aboard for it, she loved being a part of this little family you two had, even if she wasn't related to you guys by blood. peter set up the camera, and this time, he wasn't going to miss this moment. as the camera clicked, out came the beautiful portrait of this new family peni was now a part of, your family.

a/n: I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC SO MUCH PLSSSS

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @fictarian @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @ii01vp @connors-cumslurper

[slippinmickeys]

Twenty questions for fanfic writers

I was tagged by @agent-troi and @randomfoggytiger Thanks for the tag, guys!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

53

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

712,000 exactly, which is sort of creepy?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The X-Files mainly, though a million years ago I wrote two fics for JAG, and technically, I have a His Dark Materials fic (but it's an XF crossover)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae

Prompt Drabble Collection

The Annapolis Grant

Three Part Harmony

A Companion Unobtrusive

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! Comments are the only payment fanfic writers get, and it's an incredibly valuable and underrated currency. Fanfiction as a community is one of the most generous you'll find, and I'm incredibly proud to be a part of this particular one.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh man, probably La Comtesse de Saint-Germain.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In this day and age I feel like we deal with enough shit, so I try to end most of my fics happily. I think A Gem-Like Flame probably has the most uplifting happy ending, but then, I'm a sports nerd.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't yet.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Um, probably pretty vanilla het MSR. No shame.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've only written one, but it turned out really well, I thought. It's an X-Files/His Dark Materials novella-length crossover that takes place in Lyra's world, pre-Lyra, called Out of the Little Grove.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Anyone who steals my fic is going to catch these hands.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a couple of years ago someone asked if they could translate one of my fics to Russian. It's out there somewhere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I jumped in and helped @monikafilefan get Five Years and a Lifetime over the line for a fic exchange a couple of years ago. A fun, collaborative experience, that was like 85% Monika. It's a great fic, check it out if you haven't!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Mulder & Scully are my OTP. Always and forever.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'd love to finish Madam Scully's Spiritual Services, Inc., it's an AU where Scully works for her sister's Psychic Boutique while prepping for med school. Scully ends up being actually psychic and she helps newly minted FBI agent Fox Mulder solve a series of murders. I have it almost completely plotted (except for the nitty-gritty hard stuff), but I don't think I'll ever get it done, sadly. It's just too big a story to tackle with where I am in my life. Though I never say never.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm decent at dialogue, have a pretty firm grasp on plotting, and, I hope characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My character work is probably my weak spot, which is why I have so much fun writing fanfic--the character work is already done, I just get to play around a world where everybody already knows the characters.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

When I do it, I hope like hell that I'm doing it right. I think it's necessary for some stories and you just hope you're properly respecting a language you don't speak.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files, in the year of our lord nineteen hundred and ninety eight.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

It's a toss up between Proof of Life, an AU where CNN conflict reporter Dana Scully is kidnapped and imprisoned with fellow kidnap victim and photojournalist Fox Mulder, and they, you know, fall in love. And North of Zero, a post-col novel where Mulder and Scully get William back and have to save the world. The one I totally pantsed (made up as I went along), and it came together like alchemy. I love that story. If you don't like AU, you'd like Proof of Life. If you don't like post-colonization stories, you'd like North of Zero. I don't always like everything I've written after I'm done writing it (a writer's life), but I'm incredibly proud of both of those fics.

Tagging @monikafilefan because she's already tagged, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[justmediocrewriting]

Heya!

Are you open to writing Nami for your NSFW prompt list? I scrolled down to #13 and was like "yep, that sounds like something she would do" lol!

I’m so sorry for the late reply nonnie!

And can I just say that um HELL YES! I am soooo open to writing for Nami for the prompt list. I’m pretty swamped at the moment and I’m editing/finalizing certain things bit by bit, but doing something for Nami does sound quite fun! And I do agree with you that #13 seems like something she’d do.

Post edit note: I didn’t expect to divulge into NSFW headcanon territory with this response, but because it does get a bit spicy and explicit I wanted to add the “read more” tag for those who don’t wish to see it.

For some reason, I see Nami as more of a femdom; I imagine she’d be very assertive in the bedroom, and would probably get more pleasure out of being the one in charge. I do also like to think that she’s a fan of pushing her partner into overstimulation and reducing them to tears — and her own pleasure sort of sits on the back burner for a while.

I also see her as being the queen of eating pussy. She’s super ruthless with it, likes to alternate between taking her time and then just devouring you like she’s starving, only doing enough of one of the other that you just start to get used to it before she’s flipping the script.

I get the distinct feeling she’s also the type to spell your name with her tongue.

She’ll pull at least three orgasms from you before the session is over — but don’t get too comfortable when she finally relents, because then it’s her turn, and she doesn’t take it lightly. Like this chick will downright smother you between her legs, praising and degrading you simultaneously while doing it. She doesn’t really care you eat her out or not, or if you’re too tired to; she will just ride your face until she’s satisfied. I think she’s got a thing for like light hair pulling, both with receiving and giving.

To me, Nami just exudes big “experienced lesbian” energy and my bisexual ass is fucking down for it!

I’m not too sure if you had a specific gender in mind when you asked this, but because I am a woman it’s a bit easier for me to envision fics from the perspective of a woman; though I wouldn’t shy away from attempting to write from a male reader’s perspective — before writing reader inserts, I wrote a lot of gay fanfic, so it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the male anatomy. I just don’t have a male brain so I’m not sure if I’d be able to correctly articulate a male reader. But as I said, I’m down to try!

I really appreciate this ask, because girl/girl is something I’ve actually NEVER written about (but I’ve wanted to) and I’m just excited to see that there are some who would be open to reading it.

I love you lots dahling!

❥ mama k

[theworldofkirby]

i adore you, noble haltmann… (president haltmann x reader fanfic)

A/N: hai guys i wrote a haltmann/rader fic as a kind of sequel to the dedede dating simulator bc i dont feel like coding another game to make a haltmann dating sim so take this haltmann x reader fic instead

ok so like u are in dream land right??? well :) it was taken over by capitalizm!!!!1 omg

you, (y/n) the SEXIEST freak in planet plopstar is almost crushed by one of those leg things on the haltmann works company star dream thingy ok? yea so you dodge that and like… there's a window or somethin and a guy falls out of there

you watch as he falls. he falls for like 10 minutes. but then he lands on the ground next to you and you hear a crumch.

"ow" the male says

"omg!!!!! are u ok" u ask the masculine man

"i think i broke my pelvurouscula" he says

"omg no……" u say and hold him gently. u have magic healing powers so u heal him

"gasp" he gasped. "i don't feel like dead anymore"

he gets up and u cant help but admire he. his beautiful egg shaped bod and wicked pinstripe suit. and his luscious hair and mustache.

"newayz my name is haltmann. max profitt haltmann" he said with not a trace of happy

"haltmann….. my name is (y/n)" u smile

"ok" he says. "i have to go home. bye"

he goes into his headquarters but u follow him. u keep talking to him "um so wat are u doing? i almost died" u frowned

"oh no" haltmann says. "did i accidentally park my plant on u"

"ya" u nod

"im so frickign sorry" haltmann starts crying. "i'm such trash i cant commit capitalizm without almost killing peopel"

u frown at the egg's sadness. "dont cry haltmann…" u say comfortationally

"no it's not okay i'm shaking and crying rn. i might throw up" haltmann starts crying

haltmann cries and opens his office door and runs in and throws himself onto his bed dramatically like a sad disney princess. u enter his office and hear some haunting lyrics…

"I pull away to face the pain

I close my eyes and drift away

Over the fear that I will never find

A way to heal my soul

And I will wander 'til the end of time

Torn away from you

My heart is broken

Sweet sleep, my dark angel

Deliver us from sorrow's hold

Or from my hard heart"

u turn off haltman's ipod. "Haltmann" u say

"no my music" haltmann sobbed

"haltmann." u say again but more like… asssertively

"ouuu" haltmann screams into his pillow. "first i break my airpods and now my music is dead"

"HALTMANN" u grab him and sit him up

"what" haltmann sniffs

"whats wrong" u ask

"u see (y/n) i lost someone in da past… i forget who that was tho… but like someone died ok? and now im sad" haltmann explaines

"halmann" u look into his deep blue orbs. "i…"

"yes (y/n)?" haltmann blinks his beautiful sapphire saucers at u

"i…" u blush "i…"

"..." haltmann …ed

"i think u need to seek therapy" u gently stroke his bangs

"omg… ur right" haltmann tears up. he gives u a hug. "thank u (y/n)"

"ur welcome" u smile

"im so tired of depression. i will defeat this evil inside me. thank u (y/n)"

u get on his computer and start googling local therapists in dream land. "here's one," u say. "call them and see if they're accepting new patients"

haltmann gets his sexy cellphone out and calls the therapist. "hi mr. therapist, my name is max profitt haltmann and my friend (y/n) says i need therapy"

"ya we can take u in" says the therapit. "we will have u do an intake next month ok"

"n. next month." haltmann starts to tear up

u look at haltmann ernestly. "better late than never, haltmann… ur patience will be rewarded"

haltmann sighs haltmannly. "ok. we will do next month"

haltmann finishes scheduling his therapy appointment. u look at him with a pleased look on ur face. "that was kinda sexxy of u haltmann, working towards self care like that" u smirk and wink

haltmann blushes "haha yea i guess that is pretty sexy. um, not that i'm trying to be cool or anything" he stutters

"hey u can call urself sexy and cool all u want," u laugh. "ur epic even"

"(y/n)..." haltmann blushes. he leans in and gives u a kiss. his cute little mustache hairs tickle ur upper lip.

"teehee" u giggle. "ur mustache is so cute"

"thank u" haltmann says. "star dream says its ugly"

--

2 MONTHS LATER

haltmann knocks on ur door. u open it

"hi (y/n) my sweet honey bunches of oats" haltmann wraps his hands around u and dips u for a kiss

"h-haltmann" u blush "where did this come from"

"so u see, i followed thru with therapy like u suggested. little did i kno this would change my life" haltmann says. "going to therapy made me realize that i wasn't treating myself with respect, and if i want to feel respected by others, i need to develop respect for myself. without respect for myself, i won't be able to recognize gneuine respect from my friends and employees. and i cant live being so cynical anymore. i need to love myself, (y/n). i need to be my own bestie becuz who will be there for me when everyone is gone? i need to be there for myself"

u look at haltmann like this:

"haltmann… u… u mean…"

"yea. i love myself, (y/n), and its thanks to u…" haltmann kisses u again. "sory i didnt talk to you for the past 2 months btw i was depressed amd busy with therapy lol"

"its ok haltmann i love u no matter what" u stroke his egg head

"yea" haltmann nods. "um btw i like need some new music to listen to bc my therapist says i shuld stop listening to such depressing music if it makes me wallow in sadness more"

"say no more" u say as u smirk and take out of ur bookshelf a CDs of Hannah Montana 3 and the High School Musical Sountrack

u and haltmann spend the night picking out the best disney channel songs to boost his self confidence. soon enough its morning. "omg its morning" haltmann gasps

"it was nice spending the night with u haltmann" u blushed "we should do it again someday"

"no, (y/n)" haltmann gives u an onion ring "we will do it again today. marry me"

"ok" u blush

u and haltmann have a beautiful wedding with the stupidest most extravagant dress and cake bcuz hes rich. ur live happy ever after the end