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cevaannss · 3 years

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Just Friends (Reader x Chris Evans)

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Prompt: “you say we are just friends, but friends don’t know the way you taste” but with a happy ending? - Anon

Warnings: R rating, Some sexual content/Smut, Minors DNI. Brief mentions of/allusions to anxiety.

Authors Notes: This is my first prompt fill on here in years, so I might be a little rusty any feedback is appreciated, please let me know if there’s anything I missed warning or tagging. I also didn’t intend for this to be so long but I got a little carried away with it.

When you and Chris first met, you had been young, wide eyed, fresh faced kids. He was barely 20, filming at your old high school, and you a member of the local theatre group were recruited as an extra. You had graduated a year prior and were coming to the end of your gap year, you would be going to college in a few short months. After seeing each other in passing on set, you and Chris had your first conversation in the kraft services trailer, both leaning in to grab the last remaining bagel. After a back and forth of “you take it” “no you” “seriously its okay” you agreed to split it and thus began your friendship.

It was weird, from that first day you had a connection like neither of you had experienced with anyone else. You talked daily, would be each other’s dates to your friends weddings, hung out with each other’s families without the other around. You were mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend many times throughout your years of friendship but that was never what it was about. You’d both dated plenty, often times ending relationships because the person you were seeing couldn’t deal with your closeness to each other. But for you both that was just how it was, and if they couldn’t accept it then they weren’t worth your time. Maybe they were right, you had always had a crush on Chris, and you had a feeling it was reciprocated but you’d always had an understanding, a common ground that you were friends and that’s all you’d ever needed to be.

The first time you had edged into more than friends territory was on Chris’ 37th birthday. You had thrown him a party at his house and he had been a little, okay a lot drunk and while you weren’t far behind him you were still sober enough to take care of his messy ass. After everyone had left you had attempted to clean up a bit, collecting garbage and wiping down the kitchen, the whole time Chris was passed out on his couch. You had managed to wake him enough to get him up and into his bedroom, out of his jeans and shoes and into his bed. You bought him a glass of water and two Advil placing them on his beside table, him grabbing your wrist as you placed the water down, pulling you on top of him into a half hug as he tended to do when he was drunk. He’d always been touchy when he was drunk, letting his hands linger on you longer than normal but it had always been innocent. He mumbled something into your ear, something he’d said a million times, and you replied the same response you had given a million more. But what he said next had changed it all.

“No, not like that”

It stopped you in your tracks because what did he mean not like that. It had to be like that. It had always been like that. This wasn’t how this went. Not for the two of you. You weren’t “those” friends.

“Then like what” you had whispered, panic setting in, soberness hitting you like a Mack truck as you looked back at him. But of course he had fallen asleep again, dead to the world, arm wrapped around your waist as you perched on the edge of his bed. Silence filling the air except for the light snoring he was emitting.

The next morning you had been awoken by clattering coming from the kitchen. Stumbling out of the guest room you walked in to Chris attempting to make breakfast, standing in the door way you watched him, his eyes squinted and slow moving, lingering proof of his previous inebriation. He was making blueberry pancakes, it was a post birthday tradition, but you were usually the one who made them for him on the day after his birthday.

Seeing him standing there sliding another half burnt pancake onto the stack he had started made you smile, he tried bless him, but he was never great in the kitchen. The conversation from last night soon flooded your memory and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“What did you mean”

Chris looked up from pouring more batter into the pan, finally noticing your presence.

“Morning” he mumbled, clearly not fully awake yet “What do you mean, what did I mean?”

“Last night, in your room, you said you loved me...”

“I always say I love you?” He let out a low chuckle but looked confused, you weren’t sure if he really didn’t remember or if he was just pleading ignorance, usually you were quick to spot if he was lying but this time your radar couldn’t pin it. He turned his attention back to flipping the pancake in the pan.

“Yeah but when I said I love you too bestie... you said ‘No, not like that’ what did you mean?”

His head snapped up, redness filling his cheeks, and it was in that moment that you had known things were changing whether you had wanted them to or not.

“Oh” you said, your breath escaping you, as the realization hit.

“Yeah” he said eyes focused on the pancake burning in the pan.

“Chris...”

He pulled the pan off the stove dumping the last pancake on the plate before placing the pan in the sink letting the cold water run over it before turning back to face you.

“I don’t...what do you want me to say” He started, raising his voice slightly, obviously flustered. “You want me to say I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying? Because I cant okay, I can’t say that. Would I have said it if I were sober? No, probably not...in fact definitely not. But I did and I can’t take it back or just pretend I didn’t because I do love you, I’ve always loved you”

“I’ve always loved you too Chris” you looked up, your eyes connecting with his blue ones.

“Yeah, but not in the same way” he stepped around the counter standing in front of you now, his frame towering over yours.

“Said who”

“What”

“Who said I don’t love you in the same way?”

Chris lunged forward, one hand grasping your waist, the other coming up to cup your face as he leant down, his lips pressing against yours gently. It took you a second to realize what was happening before your hands found their way around his neck pulling him down to you, deepening the kiss.

From that day onward you became the friends who make out occasionally, it wasn’t the right time for you to try and be anything more, yes you loved each other, more deeply than you first understood but your lives were all over the place, you were rarely in the same city for more than a few weeks at a time and Chris’ career was exploding more than ever. It wasn’t the right time. So you’d both take what you could get when you could get it and that was enough for either of you.

It wasn’t until Chris’ 38th birthday a year later that you let things go any further. He had wanted a small celebration, so you had gone to dinner with a few friends, had a few drinks and then headed back to his place to watch a movie. You had been cuddled up on the couch, passing a beer back and forth between you when he placed it down on the coffee table, his hand sliding down your thigh, before pulling you into his lap. You had placed your knees on either side of his thighs, your hands on his shoulders while his trailed down your sides and over your hips before slowly moving to cup your ass. You leant down to place a soft kiss on his lips, him reattaching them as soon as you pulled away, biting your lower lip roughly.

There was something different in the way he was kissing you, the way he was touching you, more heat, more passion. Your hands were running down his chest as his grip on your ass tightened, holding you close to him, the intensity taking over. Before you knew it your shirt was on the floor and his hands were sliding up your back as your lips found their way to his neck. There was a tenacity in every movement, every touch, every kiss. His hands finding the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease and discarding it with your shirt on the floor. He pulled away slightly, his eyes raking over your body perched on top of him, eyes filled with need and want, pushing up to connect your lips once again as you could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans. His large hands sliding to your thighs before standing you both up, your legs wrapping around his waist, hands in his hair.

He stumbled his way into his bedroom laying you down on his bed placing a soft kiss to your lips before hurriedly kissing down the side of your neck and chest, between your breasts and down to your belly button stopping at the waist of your jean shorts, fingers dancing over the button as he looked up at you, eyes questioning as if to get the go ahead, you nodded gently. He slid your shorts and underwear down your thighs, discarding them and grabbing at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before sliding off his jeans and boxers. You let your eyes trail his body as he situated himself between your legs leaning down to kiss you again.

“Are we really gonna do this” he laughed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I think so” you blushed, eyes meeting his once again, yours filled with anticipation, his with desire.

When you woke up the next morning, your head on his chest, his fingers running through your hair, you didn’t know how to feel, but you knew things were moving into a far more complicated territory.

The two of you went on this way for a while, hanging out with friends and family as if nothing had changed, but when it was just the two of you it was different, intimate. When you were away from each other you facetimed daily, you shared everything, you always had but now it felt like everything you were used to but magnified. When he was gone you missed him, when you were together you felt complete. It was so familiar but so new at the same time. At this point you were dating without the title, which had been fine with you both, you liked what you had together it was easy, simple, no pressure.

In early August you had moved in, the apartment you rented was being sold and Chris insisted it would be helping him, and besides he had said, you were there whenever he was anyway. You had your own room but it was rarely used, most nights falling asleep together in Chris’ bed, both finding you slept better when you were together. It was one of those nights, curled up in his bed, Dodger at your feet, watching a rerun of some sitcom when Chris had asked you if you would go to Toronto with him the next month, his latest film Knives Out was premiering at the film festival there and he had been equal parts excited and nervous about it. You had been taken aback at first, sure you’d visited him on set before and attended a few premieres but this felt different.

“You want me to?” You sat up turning to face him.

“Obviously” he laughed “I’d take you everywhere with me if I could”

“Aww cute” you chuckled pinching his cheek as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“I have press a lot of the time, but you could hang out do some sight seeing, then come to the premiere with me?”

“With you...or with you?”

“Whichever one means I get to have you beside me on the red carpet”

“I don’t know Chris...you know that will start a shit storm” you knew how bad the rumours that had started when fans spotted you just attending the premiere for the last Avengers movie had been, and while it really didn’t bother you, you didn’t want it to have an affect on his career.

“Honestly? I don’t care.”

“Okay” you knew he wouldn’t say it but you could tell from his face that he was feeling anxious about it “I’ll come with you, but if you decide any time that you’d rather walk the carpet alone thats okay”

“I won’t” he reassured you, placing a kiss to your temple.

The day of the premiere came around quickly, Chris had been doing press for the past couple of days and you had spent most of your time exploring the cities sights. Chris held true to his word and didn’t change his mind about you walking the carpet with him. He had been a ball of nervous energy since you had woken up, you had left him eating breakfast to go take a shower and start getting ready for your day.

When you came out of the bathroom towel wrapped around you tightly, wet hair loose and ready to be dried you had found him pacing the hotel room in his underwear trying to keep himself busy, it was something that would put most people on edge but you had seen this so many times before with him, always getting in his head, always doubting himself and usually you were able to talk him down easily, but this time you had decided to try a different method.

Calling his name you let go of the grip you had on your towel letting it drop to the ground as he looked up having not previously noticed you had come back into the room, freezing instantly eyeing the curve of your body, a slight smirk across his face.

“What’s this for” he laughed as he closed the gap between you, hands finding your hips as you rested yours on his chest.

“You needed to get out of your head” you whispered as your lent up to kiss him, one hand sliding down his chest and finding its way into his boxers taking his length in your hand and stroking it slowly as you felt it harden beneath your grip. You pecked his lips before dropping to your knees on the plush hotel carpet pulling his boxers down with you. You pumped him a few more times with your hand before letting your tongue lick over his head tasting the saltiness of pre-cum. You took him halfway into your mouth, letting your warmth surround him before pulling off and sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock. Surrounding him with your mouth once more, this time dropping down deeper and with more intent, you hand finds its way to play with his balls, Chris letting out a breathy moan. You started to bob your head up and down as his hand found its way into your hair guiding you as his hips began to thrust, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each movement. It didn’t take long before he was warning you that he was about to cum, and cum he did, hard and fast right down your throat as you swallowed the taste of him before letting his cock slide out of your mouth. Chris pulled you up from the floor crashing his mouth into yours, tasting the remnants of himself on your tongue as he guided you back to the bed determined to make you cum just as hard as he had.

An hour later you found yourself in the shower for the second time that day, this time joined by Chris. You took your time, him massaging shower gel onto your back, while you reached up lathering and rinsing out the shampoo from his hair. You made sure to gently scrape your fingers along his scalp the way you knew, from many nights laying on the couch fingers curled in his hair as he fell asleep in your arms, relaxed him. Once you got out of the shower you realized Chris’ stylist and the hair and make up artist you had insisted on hiring yourself would be showing up any second.

By the time you were in the car waiting to pull up to the carpet Chris had seemingly relaxed, he held your hand the entire car ride over but you knew he was in a much better place mentally and that the second he got out he would turn on his charm and have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand the way he always did. When it was time to get out of the car Chris stepped out first leaning in to offer you his hand as you stepped out behind him, you could here the gasps of fans and media alike, all surprised that Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor had bought a date. Chris had pulled you into his side at the photo area, his hand on your hip as you placed yours on his chest posing for the cameras. You had been surprisingly pretty calm about the whole thing until that moment, cameras flashing in your face and paparazzi screaming from behind their barricade for you to look in twelve directions at once. It was overwhelming and something you don't think you could ever get fully used to.

“Just breathe” He whispered to you out of the side of his mouth, knowing that you had started to spiral.

After what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes Chris’ team moved you along to the press portion of the carpet, you had expected to just stand back with the team while Chris answered questions from reporters from all of the different networks and publications but he had refused to let go of your hand as he approached the first reporter so you found yourself next to him through it all. Of course the first question was about you, and you just knew every headline tomorrow would mention it. It used to frustrate you, how the media would hone in on any female he was seen with, making the story about that and not the hard work he was doing, but you knew they were just trying to sell papers, page click and views.

“So who do you have here with you today” the reporter smiled tilting her head in your direction

“This is my best friend” Chris started before motioning for you to finish, that was one of the many things you had always loved about Chris, he never wanted you to feel like you were in his shadow, you had your own voice and you could use it. You introduced yourself to the reporter who asked a few questions about how you met and then switched to talking about the movie. After a few more interviews that went in a similar fashion you were escorted into the theatre for the screening, Chris took your hand as the two of you sat side by side in the theatre waiting for the film to start. You had enjoyed it a lot and really loved seeing this side of Chris’ acting ability. When the movie was done he joined some of the cast at the front of the theatre for a quick question and answer session for the attendees before you all headed to the after party.

Chris had introduced you to some of his cast mates, and reintroduced you to a few you had met previously during a quick visit to set one afternoon. You had downed a few glasses of champagne by the time you were ready to leave the party, tipsy but not quite drunk. The two of you found your way back to your hotel, and you laughed as you entered the elevator remembering something you had thought about mid interview earlier that day.

“What?” Chris laughed pushing the button for your floor and leaning against the back of the elevator, as you pulled off the heels that you hadn’t realized until that moment were killing your feet.

“Earlier...I almost made the worst comment in the middle of that E! Interview”

“....oh god what were you gonna say?” He chuckled, amused at your tipsy candour.

“Well you introduced me as your friend...”

“Yeah....” Chris laughed, looking at you as if to say that’s what we agreed on.

“Well, you say we are just friends, but friends...friends don’t know the way that you taste” you smirked at him pointedly, both remembering the activities of that morning.

Chris burst out laughing, his full belly laugh, hand coming up to his chest before reach across and pulling you into him, placing a kiss on your nose as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“True” he mumbled before leading you down the hallway to your room, “that is true” he had one hand in yours the other holding your heels that he must have picked up on the way out of the elevator. “Well, how about next time I call you something else?” He started tone playful “This is my fuck buddy, no my slam piece, no thats too informal he laughed, girlfriend? No, hmm” He opened the hotel room door letting you slide in past him as he reached around to flip on the light switch closing the door behind him.

You stopped in the entry way a gasp leaving your lips. The room was filled with flowers. The pink and white Chrysanthemums filled every spare counter space, they had always been your favorite and Chris had sent you some for every birthday without fail. There were fairy lights lining the room and a small cart with a bottle of champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries by the window.

You turned back to Chris, your heart racing only he wasn’t where you expected....

“How about Wife?” Your eyes connected with his, where he was knelt on the floor behind you an open green velvet ring box in hand.

“What” was all you could get out.

“How about next time I call you my Wife. Marry Me?” Chris said, laughing at the shocked expression on your face “I’ve loved you for almost 20 years now, you’re the best thing in my life, and I never want to be without you...”

“Yes.” You said before you could even really think about it. “Yes!?!” You repeated realizing what was happening as Chris pulled the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger quickly before standing up to kiss you.

You’re not sure how long you stood there in the entry way making out, but when you pulled away you noticed that Chris’ eyes, like yours, were a little damp as you went to run your thumb across his cheek you caught a glimpse of the ring on your hand realizing you had barely even looked at it before it was on your hand. Chris pressed his lips into your hair holding you to his chest as you admired it. It was beautiful, delicate, subtle, it was just the kind of ring you would have chosen for yourself.

“Do you like it” Chris whispered into your hair

“I love it” you smiled up at him, lightly pressing your lips to his

“I love you” he smiled, not letting go of you.

“I love you too bestie” you giggled as he grabbed you around the waist lifting you over his shoulder and tapping your ass lightly as he took off towards the bedroom.

#Chris Evans #Reader x Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #female reader #female reader x Chris evans #Chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #reader insert

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flightlessangelwings · 3 years

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Control

Comandante Veracruz x afab!reader (smut with no pronoun use, no y/n)

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ only), lingerie, protective!Veracruz, a little bit of sub!Veracruz (until he’s had enough, then back to dom!Veracruz), unprotected sex, teasing, slight nipple play, this is actually soft for V here lol

Request from anon: I love your Veracruz x reader series (I mean that man is just too 🥵) I was wondering could you maybe write (if you’re not too busy 🥺) one where the reader suprises Veracruz in some racy lingerie and tries to take control and vercruz just turns the tables on the reader and takes control - thank you 💓

Notes: Thanks so much for the request, anon and I’m sorry this took so long! I had a LOT of fun writing this one so I hope y’all enjoy it!! Also thank you to my V partner in crime @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa for some inspo for this one!

gif by @life-or-something-like-lt (unf that look on his face 🥴)

The door to your apartment burst open as Veracruz let himself in with the set of keys you gave him. The sun had just set on a long day for the comandante, and all he wanted was you underneath him to work out all his pent up frustrations. He called out your name only to be met with silence and emptiness of the apartment. After he shrugged off his leather jacket and boots he called your name again, but again he was met with silence.

Veracruz clenched his jaw as he suddenly went on high alert. The space looked untouched, but he couldn’t help but think about the last time he entered your apartment and was met with silence. His heart pounded in his chest as anger and adrenaline rushed through his system. He couldn’t live through the nightmare of you being taken again. Not when he took so many precautions to keep you safe.

“Cariño?” Veracruz called out as he moved swiftly through your apartment towards your bedroom.

It wasn’t until he got closer to the back of your living space that he heard movement from the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom and Veracruz let out a heavy breath of relief. Before he reached the closed door to your bedroom, the comandante collected himself and put on more of a serious face. He didn’t want to let the rush of emotions show on his face. But when he opened the door, a brand new rush of emotions flooded his body.

You had just emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a skimpy piece of lingerie. It was new; he hadn’t seen it before, and Veracruz froze in the doorway as he took in the sight of you before him. Your skin glistened in the low light of the room, which told Veracruz you had just come out of the shower. And he now knew why you didn’t hear him at first. Every word that was on his tongue evaporated as you leaned against the doorway in the sexy little lace lingerie that barely covered your body. It also didn’t go unnoticed that you didn’t have any panties on either.

“You alright, V? You look...” you didn’t know what word to use. He looked flustered, but there was something else there too. Was it relief?

Before you found the right word, Veracruz crossed the room in a flash. He grabbed onto your hips as he pulled you flush against his body. He didn’t answer with his words, but captured your lips with his in a heated kiss instead. When you moaned into his mouth and deepened the kiss, he tightened his grip on you and dragged your body back towards your bed.

Just as he was about to spin you around to push you into the mattress, you turned the tables on the comandante. You stopped him as he tried to shift your body and in his momentary confusion, you pushed him down onto his back on your bed. He looked up at you with confusion in his eyes and a snarl on his lips, but you weren’t intimidated.

“Let me this time… Comandante,” your voice was low and dripped with lust as you straddled his waist and held tightly onto his wrists. You felt the tension in his arms and his hands were balled into tight fists, but you were determined to get him to loosen up.

Veracruz growled your name in a warning but was hushed when you kissed him again. At first, he wanted nothing more than to flip you over and turn the tables back on you. But the more you kissed him and rocked your hips against his, the more he was content to stay pinned underneath you. For now at least. His fists unclenched slightly and you felt the tension in his body dissipate.

You grinned into the kiss as you slowly grinded your hips against Veracruz’s. When you broke away for a breath, you kept your eyes on his face for every little reaction your movements had on him. You could tell he tried to fight it, but he secretly enjoyed the feeling of your body on his. And his hardening length under your pussy also gave him away.

"Can I trust you to be good?" your voice was soft and earnest as you leaned forward and hovered your lips over his.

When the comandante whispered a soft "yes" in response, you took his lips with yours again in a more needy kiss.

You trailed a line of kisses down his neck just like he liked to do with you. While your mouth worked his skin, you released your grip on his wrists and moved your hands to unbutton the front of his shirt. You were desperate to feel more of his bare skin against your body, and you could tell from how he strained underneath you that the feeling was mutual.

Veracruz took full advantage of his free hands and immediately grabbed into your hips again, desperate for a little sense of control without breaking his promise to you. Although, if he was honest with himself, you were the one person he wouldn’t mind giving up some control for. Your actions and how you spoke to him told him that you didn’t see him any differently for showing just a hint of vulnerability. The comandante was always a force to be reckoned with, in his life, his military career and sexually, and it took a lot for him to allow your actions. But he trusted himself in your hands.

It was as if you read his mind, because you broke away and sat upright to look into his dark eyes. The two of you stayed still and silent for several moments, as if you could tell what the other thought. It was an unspoken moment of intimacy that you were all too familiar now with Veracruz. But just as quickly as it started, the moment vanished and suddenly you both felt filled with need and desperation.

Veracruz used the leverage of his hands on your hips to lean you forward and captured your lips in a more heated kiss. While your tongues danced together, you frantically clawed at the buttons of his shirt in desperation. Neither of you broke away from the passionate kiss as you ripped open his shirt and you couldn’t help the short laugh into his mouth as you felt a button or two hit your skin. He didn’t even notice.

You broke away and your breath caught in your throat when the comandante’s chest was completely exposed to you. There was something about him at this angle that made him more enticing to look at. You shrugged his shirt back in an attempt to remove it, but Veracruz did not make it easy for you. If you wanted to be on top, you had to earn it. He kept his body flat against the bed and used his strength to keep you from fully removing his shirt. He let out a low growl as he grit his teeth in amusement at your growing frustration. It was his way of keeping some control over you.

But you gave up and left his shirt open and instead trailed your hands along his chest. Veracruz couldn’t help the involuntary hiss when your fingers grazed over his nipples. You smirked down at him through half lidded eyes. But as you were about to tease him more, a stern look of warning stopped you in your tracks. He allowed your actions this far, and you didn’t want to push your luck so you decided to move your hands down his stomach and shifted yourself down to unfasten his belt.

That rush of need swept through you again and you were much smoother and faster in opening his belt and pants. Once you got a good grip on them, you looked up and gave Veracruz a stern look on your own. He flashed a half smile and lifted his hips for you and allowed you to remove his pants completely. He couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed watching you so desperate and heated for him and the thought crossed his mind that giving up control for you wasn’t so bad.

It didn’t take you long to reposition yourself on the comandante’s hips again after you discarded his pants on the floor. You kept your hands on his chest for leverage while you rocked your pussy along his length. He groaned at your touch as he gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure would leave marks. But you didn’t care; you wore marks from your comandante with pride.

You picked up your pace and rocked against his cock harder and faster, and you felt yourself get wetter and wetter the more you moved against him. Veracruz tried to resist the urge to give in to how good it felt when you worked him, but you were his weakness. He couldn’t deny your touch and growled in pleasure as he bucked his hips up against yours which pulled a loud moan from your lips. That pulled a grin from you; it was your one goal to get him to relax and let his inhibitions go, and you accomplished just that.

But soon, you both wanted more, and you could tell from the fire that burned behind the comandante’s eyes that he needed to be inside you. You had teased him enough, and you both knew it. Without a word needed, you gave him a nod and a smile through your own half lidded eyes as you lifted your hands up off his chest to tug at the lingerie that still adorned your body.

“Wait,” he growled and you froze, “Leave it on,” he commanded. Veracruz usually preferred you naked and bare, but there was something about seeing you in the sexy little piece that really set something off in him and drove him wild. Especially with how enticing you looked on top of him.

With a nod, you bit your lip and lifted your hips to line himself up with your entrance. Veracruz never took his eyes off of you as you slowly inched down into his cock. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the familiar stretch of him again.

“Eyes on me cariño,” Veracruz’ voice was low, but just loud enough for you to hear.

His voice went right to your core and you only felt yourself get wetter at his instruction. It took a lot of willpower, but you opened your eyes and kept them on his as you lowered yourself onto his cock agonizingly slowly. He let out a deep growl as he watched himself disappear inside you, and the warmth of your cunt around him was more than welcome.

Both of you exhaled deeply when your hips met Veracruz’s and he was fully sheathed inside you. You took his wrists in your grip and covered your breasts with his large hands. Veracruz’s eyes blew wide as he gave you a hard squeeze and rolled your nipples between his fingers through the fabric of the lingerie. As a reward, you lifted your hips a little and crashed yourself back down on his cock.

You couldn’t help the moan that you let out and you quickly picked up your pace. He moved his hands from your breasts down to your hips again to help guide your body. Veracruz growled as he watched his cock disappear inside you over and over again. He finally got the stress release he chased since he entered your apartment. And you were more than happy to be that release for him.

It didn’t take long for you to feel tired and you slumped forward a bit and rested your hands on his chest. You felt his eyes on you as his hands squeezed your hips in a silent question. When you lifted your gaze to meet his, you could practically feel the need within Veracruz to flip you over and just pound into you like he always liked to. But you wanted to make him feel good your way for just a little bit longer.

Instead of lifting your hips again, you clenched your inner muscles around his cock, and you grinned when he let out a loud groan. Clearly he did not expect you to do that.

“Does that feel good, comandante?” you asked in your most seductive voice.

His answer came with just an affirmative grunt.

You clenched your muscles again as you dug your nails into his chest, “What about this?"

Veracruz growled your name as he ran his hands up and down your sides. He stopped to give your breasts another firm grasp before his hands ran down your body again. You whined at his touch and involuntarily gripped his length at the action. That was what drove the comandante over the edge and he couldn’t take it anymore.

In one swift movement, Veracruz wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you over so what you were on your back. He stayed inside you throughout the entire movement as he found himself on top of you, just like he liked it. And the cry you let out only spurred him on as the action drove his cock even deeper inside you.

Veracruz wasted no time and pounded into you with his usual fast, relentless pace. He hiked one of your legs up as he watched your breasts swing underneath the lingerie as he pounded into you. And the sounds of your cries and moans that filled the room only turned him on even more.

He wrapped his arm around the leg that he had propped up on his shoulder and rubbed furiously at your clit. He grunted at the way you arched your back for him. Your hands gripped into the sheets as if you would fly off the bed if you let go. Maybe you would have, but there was no way Veracruz would let that, or anything, happen.

“Does that feel good, cariño?” Veracruz mocked your question from earlier as he thrusted into you. When you just moaned in response, he spoke again, “Answer me,” he growled as he pushed himself inside you as deep as he could get and stayed still as he watched for your answer.

“Yes… V… Fuck...”

Satisfied, Veracruz resumed his pace and rubbed your clit even harder, determined to make you cum. It didn’t take long for your climax to wash over you and you came with a loud scream. Your entire body trembled as you tugged at the sheets so hard they almost ripped. But the comandante didn’t stop and just as he fucked you through your first orgasm, a second one immediately washed over you.

You screamed his name as you came twice more, all the while Veracruz did not let up at his pace. It wasn’t until you thoroughly soaked his cock that the comandante finally let his own release take him over. With a snarl, he came deep inside you and groaned your name as he rode out his own climax on your body.

Spent, Veracruz collapsed down onto you and stayed with his body covering yours for several moments. Maybe it was the fact that he gave up control for a time, or the fact that he thought you were taken when he first entered your apartment, but he just wanted to feel your body underneath his for a little bit. But when you let out a groan, he knew he had to get up and slowly, Veracruz pulled out of you and dropped down next to you.

You didn’t even open your eyes when you nuzzled yourself into his embrace and you smiled warmly when you felt his arm wrap around your body protectively. Veracruz always managed to pull several orgasms from you, which you never thought was possible. Yet you wouldn’t complain; he always made you feel so good and the exhaustion was more than worth it. So it didn’t take you long to fall asleep tucked safely and securely in his arms.

Veracruz, however, stayed awake and just watched as you slept soundly. You were soft and warm against his body, and it was a feeling that the comandante never thought he would ever feel. He knew you bought the lingerie to surprise him and fire him up, and boy it sure worked. You looked so delicious in the little piece, and he found that he was more attracted to you than ever when you rode him while wearing it. Perhaps Veracruz would be willing to relinquish control for you again in the future… but he’ll never admit it out loud or outright ask for it. He just hoped that you would be in the mood to do so again, and sooner rather than later.

“Rest now cariño,” he mumbled softly against your scalp, “You earned it,” Veracruz placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. He listened to the sound of your breathing for some time and it wasn’t until he was satisfied that you were there and safe in his arms that he let himself fall asleep as well.

#comandante veracruz #comandante veracruz x reader #comandante veracruz imagine #comandante veracruz x y/n #comandante veracruz x you #Burn Notice The Fall of Sam Axe #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Note

Can you write fanfic ina x mc, mc teach ina how to cook? Your works are great💖 Thank you❣️

aww thank you anon for this idea i really loved it 🥺🥺

parings: Ina x mc (Bea)

warnings: implied sex but mostly just fluff i guess

taglist: @cloud9in

word count: 2.2k 😬 i got carried away

(if there any mistakes i’ll fix it later)

A recipe for disaster

After the convention, things between you and Ina couldn’t have been better. Even though your relationship was hidden from everyone else, Ina finally stopped closing herself off and pushing you away and you couldn’t be happier. You and Ina stole moments after class, where you would stay behind to help ‘clean up’ or moments in her office where you would do anything but work.

One day you randomly decided to teach Ina how to cook since the first time resulted in her totally butchering your ‘I’m sorry you had a crazy stalker dinner’ by letting the sauce of the pasta explode on her. You texted Ina, ‘‼️EMERGENCY COME TO MY DORM‼️’ and never had Ina run so fast in her life, throwing all her papers to the floor in her office, and dashing to your dorm worried that it was another Benji situation. How she managed to get there undetected by the other students is a complete mystery as when she approached the door of your dorm she banged heavily screaming out your name.

You rush towards the door and swing it open to find a wide eyed Ina, her hair slightly ruffled, sweat marginally glistening on her forehead, and her breaths heavy. Before you can speak, she barges into the room,, “So.. what’s.. the .. emergency?” She takes a quick breath between each word as she frantically looks around your dorm room until you can’t help but let out a laugh.

“Jesus Ina, I don’t think the whole dorm heard you shouting my name, why don’t you scream louder?” your voice dripping with sarcasm with a hint of playfulness. Ina turns to face you and sees your eyes gleaming with admiration as flustered Ina is incredibly cute. Ina slightly frowns and closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. “Bea… is there an emergency or not?”

You guilty stare down at the floor, “well, um not exactly the kind of emergency you’re thinking, but i swear it’s important” you pick your head back up to look at Ina who is massaging her temples with her fingers, “dammit Bea I literally ditched my grading and ran here, what if someone saw me?” she continues to berate you as she goes on about her publisher and her deadlines but stops talking when you slide a finger seductively down her arm.

“I’m sorry Ina” you pout a little giving your best puppy dog eyes look and lean in to whisper in the shell of her ear, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

Ina’s breathing shakes a little as you nibble on her earlobe and she places her hands and your hips and pushes you back slightly to meet her eyes which look less angry and more turned on and she completely ditches her earlier rant, “hmm, what were you thinking?”

Okay she definitely wants to do it right here right now but you mentally remind yourself that you’re on a mission to teach Ina how to cook so you place your thumb on her lower lip and begin to trace the outline of it, “well I was thinking of teaching you a lesson”

Ina perks up at the word “lesson” and you forget that she is wayyy too kinky for her own good. Her eyebrow raises a little and the grip on your waist tightens as her voice drops to a low murmur, “what kind of lesson?”

You lean in slightly teasing her as your breath ghosts above her lips, “a..... cooking lesson” you move your head back and take in Ina’s slightly disappointed but confused look.

“Bea, uh may I remind you of the last time I tried to cook, it didn’t end up so well”

“Well I remember getting you half naked and getting a massage so” Ina sighs heavily and before she can speak, because knowing Ina she’s probably against the idea of a cooking lesson you carry on speaking, “look I know what you’re gonna say and please, do it for me,” You once again pout your lips and stare at Ina hoping she falls prey to your charms as she usually does, “I’ll be guiding you the entire time,” you turn to face the kitchen counter and raise your arm to point at the ingredients placed upon it, something Ina definitely didn’t notice when she first came in. “Pleaseeeee Ina i’ve literally been planning this and it will be so cute.”

“And how exactly would it be cute?”

“I don’t know, i guess fulfilling a domestic fantasy of mine, cooking alongside the person i’m with while we spoon feed each other and all that romantic stuff”

Ina softy sighs and gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek, “fine but don’t blame me when this all goes south, I told you my kitchen skills are abysmal”

You laugh and being to tug her arm towards the kitchen and you place a cute blue apron around Ina’s head and move behind her to tie it up, “Just a precaution, we don’t want a repeat of last time”. Ina playfully swats at your arm and grins, “so what are we making?”

“My favourite comfort food ever, lasagna. My mom used to make it for me all the time back at home especially during times when I wasn’t feeling well or wasn’t having a good day. Lasagna always cheers me up. Well that and pizza.”

Ina stares at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and then takes one of your hands in hers, “well I’m honoured you’re teaching me to make it, I hope I do it justice.”

You being to prep Ina on the basics of lasagna telling her “it’s all about the layers and cheese. Cheese is the most important part of this dish”.

You start by washing the minced meat as Ina begins to dice carrots, mushrooms, onions, and defrosts peas and sweet corn before washing them all and placing it in a bowl.

“Okay so we gotta cook the meat and the vegetables for a while and then we are going to add in the seasonings and the sauce and let it cook” you stifle a laugh, “make sure to not get it on yourself this time”.

Ina gives out a hearty laugh and shakes her head, “God i’m so embarrassed by that but you better watch out for when I become a culinary master”. She flourishes her arms a little and you retort, “not really a master when you can’t cook pasta”. She laughs and pinches some cheese from one of the bowls and flicks it at you.

You barely manage to dodge it, and your eyes glimmer devishly, “Oh it’s on now”. You and Ina begin to throw cheese at each other until Ina grabs your hands and intertwines your fingers before pulling you towards her, “I didn’t give you a proper thank you for teaching me how to cook” she kisses you sweetly on your lips.

“Well it’s pretty obvious you need to learn, and if we’re going to be together then you need to know how to cook my favourite comfort food at least”.

Ina intensely stares at you, her eyes full of desire and longing, she kisses you again, harder than the last one and the passion between the two of you quickly builds until you’re interrupted by the clanging on the lid against the pot as the water begins to bubble out of it.

“Crap” you quickly move toward the stove turning the heat down a little to let the meat simmer and then dramatically swipe your hand against your forehead, “that would’ve been a disaster, come on stop distracting me, you’re gonna let the food burn”.

“I’m sure the head chef isn’t easily distracted by a few kisses huh?” Ina moves towards you, pulling into another kiss. You indulge in it for a few more moments before pulling away, “nice try but I’ll make sure you know how to cook lasagna even if it’s the last thing I do” you push Ina back a little and she simply smiles.

.....

The two of you carry on cooking the meat and soon it’s time for you to begin layering the lasagna to get it ready for the oven.

“Okay like I said before it’s all about the layers” you give Ina a little demonstration, placing the pasta sheets next to each other before adding some white sauce and cheese and then repeating the step differentiating between using the red and white sauce.

Ina’s fully focused at the task at hand, attempting to perfect the “art of layering” as she called it placing the sauce and cheese in precise places until it’s ready to be put into the oven.

You grab the oven gloves and place the tray inside before closing the over door and turning to Ina, “and that’s pretty much it, it just needs to cook so we can relax for the next 45 minutes”.

Ina groans happily as she slides onto the couch and you pour two glasses of wine and make your way to the living room and give one glass to Ina before settling on the couch yourself.

“Cooking isn’t as hard as I thought it would be, in fact it’s kind of relaxing” Ina takes a small sip of her wine and you can’t help but just stare at her features, her sleeves are rolled up and small drops of sweat glisten on her face, most likely from withstanding the heat from the kitchen. Her lips are curled up in a small smile as she grips her wine glass.

“You’re a natural professor, it makes me wonder if there’s anything you can’t do” You pluck the glass from her hand and place both on the table in front of you and then you move to straddle her.

Ina runs her hands up and down your sides drinking in your demeanour as she tugs the front on your top down and whispers in your ear, “Well right now I want to do you.” She sharply inhales before clearing her throat, “I admit that sounded better in my head than out loud”. You laugh and kiss Ina indulging in her desires as she releases all the pent up sexual tension between the two of you that occurred while you were cooking.

....

A little while later you stand and move towards the hall, “I really gotta go to the bathroom so if the timer goes off Ina just take the tray out of the oven and place it on the stove okay?”

Ina gives you a nod as you go into the bathroom. Not a second later the timer beeps and Ina gets up to take out the lasagna.

While you’re washing your hands you hear a loud clang and you quickly dry your hands and run towards the kitchen. You stop in your tracks when you see Ina kneeling on the floor with the tray of lasagna flipped upside beside her knees while some of it’s contents have splattered all over the floor and somehow on the bottom drawers too.

You bring a hand up to your mouth to cover your gawking while Ina stares devastatingly at the food in front of her, “Bea I am terribly sorry, I didn’t realise how heavy it was and it slipped out of my hands, i-“

You move towards Ina and kneel beside her slipping the oven mitts off her hands, tears glisten in her eyes and you can’t help but giggle a little, “Wow Ina, I mean I knew you were bad at cooking I just didn’t realise you were this bad, I mean the food was practically ready”. You joking tone helps to alleviate some of the worry on Ina’s face but she looks down at the ground again and sighs.

“Hey, I was just kidding Ina seriously it’s okay” you place two fingers under her chin and lift her head to meet your gaze, “seriously I don’t care about the lasagna, I mean we had fun making it didn’t we?”

“Yes I suppose we did. I just wish we were able to enjoy the fruits of our labour.”

You give Ina a quick peck on her lips and whisper, “well how about we order in a pizza and then we can start cleaning up this mess?”. Ina lets out a small laugh, “Well ordering pizza, that I can do without fail”.

You manage to clean up every precipice of the kitchen that was covered in sauce and then you and Ina cuddle up beside each other enjoying your pizza while you put on a random movie to watch.

“I am sorry I messed it up Bea, if I had correctly estimated the heaviness of the tray then I could’ve-

You cut her off with a kiss which she happily returns, you break the kiss and place your forehead against hers, as your eyes bore into hers, “Ina seriously it’s okay, I had fun with you this afternoon and that’s all that matters, maybe next time we’ll do something less complex like burgers?”

You both smile and settle into the couch enjoying both the pizza and each other’s company.

#playchoices #queen b #ina kingsley #ina x mc #request #thank you anon for this

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ranposlittle · 4 years

Note

Hey hun, can I request a fluffy scenario where Chuuya’s tall, curvy, fem s/o has a daddy kink but she never told him about it because all of her past s/os have made fun of her for it, but he finds out anyway and they talk about it? Please?

Genre: SFW, Fluff, A bit of crack

Tags: Daddy kink, Comfort

A/N: Here you go, anon! I hope this was fluffy enough (o´･_･) I really wanted to keep it light and fun so I hope this will bring a smile on your face, even if it's just a tiny one hehe enjoooy~ ♥️

***

"Babe, I'm back," Chuuya called out when he entered the room.

No answer. He wrinkled his eyebrows in thought.

"Are they still out?" He asked himself and took his phone out from his pocket, promptly dialing your number.

As he waited for you to pick up, he heard a faint buzzing somewhere in the room. He scanned the vicinity and located your phone on the table beside the bed. He inquisitively approached it, confirming that it is indeed your phone but something else caught his attention.

💕✨ DADDY 😜💦 ✨💕

The peculiar caller ID kept on flashing on the screen and his head tilted in curiosity. When your phone stopped buzzing and the line on his end beeped, he dialled your number again. Your phone started vibrating once more on the table.

💕✨ DADDY 😜💦 ✨💕

It once again flashed. Chuuya's mind raced for a moment, trying to put two and two together. And then it clicked.

The bathroom door swung open and you came out on your bath robe and a towel on your hands as you ruffle your hair dry.

"Oh, hey! I didn't know you'd be back so soon," you cheerfully made your way to him and leaned down to kiss the shorter male's cheek. "I would've hugged you but, I'm wet."

You proceeded to the closet and examined your clothes, figuring out what you'd be wearing today. Chuuya grabbed your phone from the table and held it up.

"So," he drawled out, "'daddy', huh?"

You hummed in query about what he said as you place some clothes onto the bed, weighing your options for an outfit.

"Why is my caller ID on your phone says 'daddy'?" A devilish smirked appeared on his boyish face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Your heart thumped out of your chest and you almost felt dizzy as your mind panicked and blanked out of any logical response or reaction. You gulped thickly as you felt like an enemy spy who just got their identity exposed and is now about to face prosecution.

You stomped towards him and harshly grabbed your phone on his hand and held it to your chest. "It's nothing!" You blurted out and tried to get away from him but Chuuya caught your arm.

"C'mon, (Y/N)~" He teased as he spun you around to face him. "It's not that big of a deal. Just tell me if that's what you–"

His playful expression faded away when he saw your distressed face. Your eyes turned away from him, your jaws clenched tightly, and your eyebrows knitted together.

"Hey," he cooed at you, looking up to your eyes and rubbing your arms, "I'm sorry, I– I was just kidding. I didn't mean to upset you."

He craned his neck and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "I'm sorry. Okay?"

Chuuya searched for any changes in your expression and when there wasn't any, his hands slid down your arms and he turned, ready to leave the room. He knows that it's best to give you some space when you clam up like this and he'll just have to wait when you are ready to open up. He didn't know why it upset you that much but either way, he's not going to push you.

"I'm not mad," you explained, making him stop on his tracks, "I'm just... embarrassed."

He walked back towards your direction and held your hand. He guided you to the bed and you sat beside him at the edge of the mattress.

"Talk to me," Chuuya said in a mellow tone. You know that whenever he say those words, you'll have to talk. It's like an unspoken rule in your relationship. It's his way of encouraging you to speak your mind and whatever it is that you have to say, he'll be listening with an open mind and an open heart.

You fiddled with your thumbs and you chewed on your lips, the words you want to say coming up to your throat like hot lava as you feel the weight of Chuuya's stare.

"I have a daddy kink, okay?!" You replied a little louder than you intended so you adjusted your voice and spoke in a softer tone. "Feel free to make fun of me."

"The hell would I do that?" Chuuya said in obvious disbelief.

"Every one that I've been with before has," you sighed, your eyes dropping to the floor as old memories flashed in your mind. "They say that it's weird, or just plain wrong. I guess it's also got to do with what I look like? Maybe they think it's unfitting for someone like me to be into something like that? Maybe they're expecting me to be all 'mature' or 'grown up'." You said making quotation marks with your fingers. "I don't know."

Chuuya stayed silent and you took it as a sign to keep talking. "I was scared to tell you because you might think the same and you'll get disgusted by me and—"

"Are you kidding me?" Chuuya roared all of a sudden, being the easily excitable guy that he is. "That shit's hot, you know."

You stared at him with hopeful eyes, a gentle smile making its way on his lips and it seems like a boulder was lifted off of your chest and you can breathe freely again.

"You– you think so?"

"Yeah," he answered, crinkling his nose. "I mean, it's not like it's the weirdest thing out there. You should see what other people are into. I met a guy once who likes licking armpits, now that's weird. Unless you're into that, too."

"Eww, no," you laughed heartily as he moved closer to hug you and tickled you lightly in the process.

"I mean, if you are, then just tell me. Maybe I'll change my opinion about it," he teased before wrapping his arms firmly around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Seriously though, there's nothing to be ashamed of. You're just perfect to me," he muttered. "I love you, every bit of you. Don't think that there's anything that can change that, okay? You don't have to hide any part of yourself, especially with me. No matter how bizarre you think it is."

You softly smiled back at him and nodded, feeling your chest warmed up with happiness. You affirmed in your thoughts that he's indeed like the sun. With his blazing personality and burning passion, he's a force that can burn you if you're not too careful, but his presence also brings warmth and comfort; something that you would still long for in a cold winter. Chuuya leaned over and kissed your lips, showing you all the affection he has for you in every languid movement of his mouth.

"I still think it's weird, though," you said after the kiss. Chuuya frowned at you. "I mean, can you imagine? Calling someone who's shorter than me my 'daddy'?" You added, turning the tables on him and giving him a sly smirk.

Chuuya was gobsmacked by your sudden smugness and you shrieked as he pull you down on the bed with his immense strength, making you go into fits of giggles as he wrestle and pinned your long limbs against the mattress.

"You don't have to imagine, babe. I'll just show you," Chuuya said with a low sultry voice and a mischievous look on his face.

The bed creaked and rustled as your wet hair soaked the pillow beneath you; and your bathrobe thumped as it was discarded on the wooden floor.

#chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara headcanons #chuuya nakahara x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bungou stray dogs imagine #bsd scenarios #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #bsd imagines #bsd #chuuyamw

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wherevermyway · 4 years

Text

kinktober day one: food play

kinktober day one: food play alternative title: like ketchup on a hot dog what the fuck is wrong with me

pairing: hwang hyunjin/lee felix rating: explicit | 18+ warnings: WOW AM I GOING TO HELL FOR THIS but trashy smut, food play, ketchup as lube (yes you read that correctly), oral, profanity, hyunjin is a little aggressive with french fries, alcohol, degrading words, praise kink, hint of dacryphilia, bottom!felix, top!hyunjin, some feelings at the end. this is really gross and i hate that i wrote it. word count: idk like 2,800 or some shit on AO3 too.

sorry in advance to the anons that wanted individual hyunjin and felix things but i am stupid and cannot figure out how food kinks work so i smooshed them together (literally i guess lol) and i am now going to hell goodbye. also i was eating fries with barbecue sauce last night when i got drunk and this idea hit me. also nsfw twitter is something entirely different.

recommended tracks: beware by stray kids, sexual healing (kygo remix) by marvin gaye and kygo, kerosene! by yves tumor

disclaimer: any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

note: for the love of minho’s cats, do not consume alcohol. you’ll write stuff like this.

For some reason, Hyunjin always got really bad ideas when he had a couple of drinks in his system. Tonight’s bad idea, for instance, was getting his roommate to lick some ketchup off of his shirt, a big, thick glob of it resting on his sternum.

“Hey,” Hyunjin says with a bit of a slur, poking his head to the side to look into Felix’s room. “C’mere a sec, yeah?”

The younger man grumbles as he sulks his way out of his room. “What do you want now?” Felix always found Hyunjin kind of annoying, but even more so when he was drinking. He only put up with the older man because he let Felix live in his apartment for free while he was finishing up his culinary programme and needed to save money.

The two of them had a really strange relationship. They met a couple years ago when Felix had started working at Hyunjin’s parents’ restaurant. It started off polite and innocent, up until one night where all of the waitstaff decided to get drunk and play some games. The lead waiter, Minho, was a jerk who liked to watch people squirm, so when he dared Hyunjin to kiss Felix, nobody was really surprised.

What was surprising, however, is that Hyunjin actually did it. He had slammed his hands down on the table, crawling over the empty bottles of soju and cans of beer and dragged his way across the table and into Felix’s lap. The way that Hyunjin pressed his hips against the man beneath him as he grabbed Felix’s face and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss drove Felix mad for days. He didn’t want to stop kissing Hyunjin, not one bit.

“I need you to do something for me,” Hyunjin smirks, pulling Felix out of his memory. The brunette points down to his shirt and scoffs. “Clean me up.”

This was going to be one of those nights.

God, he hated how much of a snotty brat Hyunjin was. It was obvious that he had a nice, plush lifestyle growing up, being catered to hand-and-foot by all of the staff that helped raise him. Felix rolls his eyes and starts to walk to the kitchen, until Hyunjin interrupts him with a devilish grin creeping up on his face.

“Nah, wait,” he leans back against the couch, placing his arm on the back of the furniture, arrogantly smiling at the younger man. “Come clean it up. Hands-free.”

Felix grits his teeth and clenches his fist a bit. If Hyunjin didn’t fuck him so well, he wouldn’t put up with this; he would tell him off and tell him to get bent. But there he was, making his way over to the man on the couch, because he was already half-hard thinking about kissing Hyunjin’s stupid lips.

The men stared at each other for a second, before Felix huffed and straddled Hyunjin’s lap. The briny scent of the ketchup on Hyunjin’s shirt overwhelmed Felix’s sense of smell for a moment, getting worse as he bent down and brought himself closer to the viscous glob. Vinegar, sugar, and salt was all he could think about as he nervously stuck his tongue out, not really sure if this was a good idea.

“C’mon,” Hyunjin grumbles, “I wanna watch you lick it up, let’s go.”

Hyunjin was infuriating to Felix. He wanted nothing more than to punch that smirk off of his face, but he didn’t. He never would. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh and presses his tongue up against the older man’s shirt, the overwhelming flavour of sugary vinegar overtaking his mouth.

Felix swallowed it down, then did a couple more licks for good measure, just to piss off Hyunjin a little more. It likely worked, because the extra swipes caused the brunette to groan in irritation and grind his pelvis up in response.

“That’s a good boy,” Hyunjin moans out, reaching a hand up to grab a fistful of Felix’s hair. “Hyungie wants to play tonight and hyungie isn’t gonna be very nice to his fucktoy. You still good with using ‘red’ as your word?”

Felix scrunches his nose up in disgust as the unbearable scent of ketchup was quickly replaced by the gross stench of stale beer floating from Hyunjin’s breath. This was going to be a long night. He hesitates, thinking about how stupid the dynamic between them was, for how stupid he was for being Hyunjin’s personal cumrag, how stupid it was that he loved every second of it. He gets lost in his confused regret for a moment, then nods his head a couple times.

“Use your words,” Hyunjin commands, tugging the blond’s hair a little harder.

Fuck. Felix really loved this and it was beyond stupid.

“Yes, hyung,” he breathes out, his voice creaking a bit from the fingers in his hair.

“Good boy.” Hyunjin tugs at Felix’s hair again, taking his free hand and gripping the younger man’s hip. A devious smile comes up on Hyunjin’s face and his eyes darken before he digs his fingers into Felix’s hair and hip harder, and pushes him down, practically throwing him into the couch.

It happened so fast, Felix couldn’t really wrap his head around it, blinking his eyes rapidly as he stared into the couch cushion. He turned his head, looking up to Hyunjin towering over him with that cocky fucking smirk on his face. Normally, he hated that smirk, but right now, all Felix wanted to do was shove his dick in it.

Hyunjin reaches down to Felix’s hair again, grabbing it to roll him over. “Look at me.”

As requested, Felix timidly looks up at Hyunjin. His stomach drops a bit when Hyunjin swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and bites it.

“Open.”

Felix timidly drops his jaw, sticking his tongue out as he watches Hyunjin reach down to the plate on the table behind them, grabbing a fistful of the limp, cold fried potatoes, and his eyes instantly widened. That was a lot of fries. Was he seriously gonna shove all of them in his face?

Yes, he absolutely was. Of course he was. Hyunjin was an asshole and Felix stupidly ate it up.

Salt and grease fill Felix’s mouth as Hyunjin jams every single one of those damn fries into his face, making sure to poke the stragglers in a little harder, just for good measure. Tears started burning at the corner of Felix’s eyes, surprised and shocked at how full his mouth was, at how much discomfort coursed through his jaw.

“Cry for me, you pathetic baby,” Hyunjin laughs. “You know hyungie loves it when you cry for him.”

And so, he did. Felix didn’t really feel like crying, but he knew that Hyunjin loved it when the tears would spill down his face. He would be rewarded later with a mind-blowing orgasm, but he had to be patient. So, he let the insincere tears roll down his face, bleeding into the fries sticking out of his mouth.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” The brunette smiles, wiping a tear off of the cheek of the man beneath him. “You’re so pretty all the time, baby. My pretty baby.”

Felix’s eyebrow twitched as he thought over what Hyunjin just said. Was he being nice and sincerely complimenting him for once, or was it just the rush of alcohol and oxytocin rushing through his veins?

Drool started spilling from both corners of Felix’s mouth as he pondered the words echoing in his mind. A strange fluttering filled his stomach as he just could not stop thinking about it. Did Felix actually enjoy this weird dynamic between them?

“C’mon,” Hyunjin whines, poking at the fries hanging from Felix’s mouth. “I wanna fill that hole with something else now. Eat them right now, please. I’m really hard and wanna come all over you.”

It was awkward to even think about how in the hell he was going to get all of those fries down his throat. They were gross and slimy and covered in saliva, which wasn’t appetizing at all to Felix. The way they disintegrated as he tried to chew them, failing miserably as squishy blobs of potato and saliva fell from his lips, it felt strange and uncomfortable. Felix never understood why Hyunjin liked forcing him to eat things, but he also just didn’t understand Hyunjin at all.

A bit of a triumphant feeling washes over Felix as he finally has an empty mouth again, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and he could breathe again. He didn’t have much time to appreciate the sensation, however, as Hyunjin pulls his cock out from his joggers, rubbing it up against Felix’s cheek.

Hyunjin smirks, then reaches behind him and grabs the bottle of ketchup off of the table, giving it a couple shakes as he looks down to Felix. Mentally, Felix swore he would never eat ketchup ever again after all of this was over. He knew that every time he saw it, he would think about Hyunjin squirting it all over his dick, some of the liquid splashing up against Felix’s face as it collided against their skin with force, splattering everywhere and making an absolute mess.

He would think about Hyunjin every time he thought of ketchup now, and he knew he would instantaneously get hard at the memory, and he hated how stupid that was.

Felix hated the smell of ketchup right against his nose, but the musky smell of Hyunjin’s sweaty skin mixed with it somehow made it more palatable. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Hyunjin’s face, losing himself in just how fucked-out he looked.

“Thought this would taste better than the lube, go with the flavour of the fries, yeah?” The corner of Hyunjin’s lips tilted upright as he slipped his sticky, dripping cock against Felix’s mouth. “Open up and take me, baby.”

He knew he was going to roll his eyes at the thought of this later, but he did as requested, as Hyunjin slowly pressed his cock into Felix’s mouth. The ketchup burned his nose because there was just so much of it. It bubbled up around his lips and started spilling down his chin, his throat, until it landed on his pants and the carpet, dripping down in big, thick globs. He shouldn’t enjoy this, but Felix was getting into it. Every fibre in his being said that this was stupid, their dynamic was terrible, that no sane person would enjoy taking a dick in their mouth with ketchup smeared all over it like it was a fucking hot dog.

God, he really did love how fucked up this was.

“Good boy, baby,” Hyunjin coos as his cock hits the back of Felix’s throat. “I’m gonna move now, so lemme know if it’s too much.”

Felix moans against Hyunjin’s dick, knowing that the sensation would drive his senior absolutely mad. He rolls his tongue around the top of Hyunjin’s head, then moves his hands up to grab on to Hyunjin’s hips. He wanted to palm himself through his pants, his very hard and very obvious erection painfully throbbing against the fabric of his briefs.

He just had to be patient for a little longer.

Hyunjin gives no warning before he pulls his cock back, almost completely taking it out, then he slams it back in, lightly grazing against Felix’s teeth and getting residual bits of ketchup all over them both. It was messy, it was dirty, it was filthy, but both of them were loving it too much to stop. There was something about how taboo this all was that Hyunjin loved. He loved everything about topping his roommate, about how they’d experiment with stupid kinks they found on the internet, about how much they hated each other sometimes.

There would never be another friend quite like Felix to Hyunjin, and he loved every second of their bizarre codependency on each other. They didn’t bother masturbating anymore, they just haphazardly fucked whenever and wherever they felt like it: sometimes in the kitchen, where Hyunjin took some of Felix’s brownie batter and smeared it all over his face; sometimes in the shower, right up against the glass door; sometimes they would have lazy midnight sex where one of them would groggily intrude their way into the other’s room and just push their mouth against the other’s lips, desperate for skinship.

Felix loved to pester Hyunjin, pushing his buttons just so he could get a good dicking every so often. Hyunjin loved to watch Felix inanely bite at his lips every time he came up with some masterful dish in the kitchen and just how proud he would be when it was completed.

Hyunjin also really loved it when Felix would bob his head up and down his cock because he was just so good at it. He had been with a few different people before, but the sexual chemistry between the two of them was just so good, he wasn’t sure he could ever fuck another human being on the entire planet again.

“Good boy, Felix,” Hyunjin moans, throwing his head back as he grips Felix’s blond hair. “God, you’re so good, baby. I want you on my cock forever.”

The fucking was always good, sure, but Felix loved the way that Hyunjin praised him during sex. It was so unabashedly unrestricted, and sometimes he would say really stupid shit that made it sound like they were dating each other, but he swore he could come just from the way that Hyunjin would call him a good boy. He was Hyunjin’s good boy, and he loved it.

Felix rolls his eyes back as Hyunjin’s thrusting gets a little more reckless and uneven. He was getting close, which meant that he was going to get to come soon, too. “Fuck, baby,” Hyunjin whines, starting to twitch and roll his head around erratically. “I’m gonna come, gonna come all over that pretty face of yours.”

The older man pulls back, furiously fisting his cock as he looks down at Felix, his eyes half-open and his mouth wide, ready to take all of his cum. Fuck, he looked so pretty. He was a sweaty, filthy mess with dried tears under his eyes, drying ketchup splattered all over his face, and drool dripping down his chin.

Hyunjin lets out a strained cry as he spills his seed all over Felix’s face, just adding to the absolute mess they both were. He pants rapidly as he comes down from his high. His hands drop to his sides and he groans. “That was so good,” he whimpered, then looked down to Felix, bringing a hand up to wipe some of the cum and ketchup off his cheek. “You did so well. You okay, babe?”

Felix nods a couple of times, swallowing the weird mixture of fluids in his mouth down, and he looks up to Hyunjin. “I’ll feel a lot better after you get me off and we shower.” The two men awkwardly chuckle, blatantly ignoring the mess that was all around them. “I’m never gonna look at ketchup the same way again, though.”

They both may have had some weird dynamic between the two of them, and it may have been a little stupid, but it was them. As much as he hated to admit it, Felix loved it, and Hyunjin really did, too.

tags: @datura-inoxia and @huidawntrash

#tw: food #tw: degradation #tw: gross #tw: weird #tw: ketchup as lube lol #i cannot believe this #kinktober

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sunshinexlollipops · 3 years

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Hello! Just wanted to stop by (hopefully not being a bother) and say I have recently just went through all of your red dead fics on ao3 and wow. I've gotten into a/b/o fics more after reading yours! But also your amidst fic made me feel all types of things, and I know however it ends will leave me messy with f e e l i n g s. And I want to prematurely thank you for those feelings xP. I was also wondering, if that's alright, how your writing process is like? You put in a lot of words in amidst and some of your other fics. Do you make outlines? Do you first write down ideas for a chapter/fic and then draft it out? Are there scenes you add/take out? Is there a length goal you usually set for yourself? You don't have to answer, but I wish you well and thank you for fics that brightened my life a little!

LONG POST!

omg, hello anon! your ask 100% got lost in my notifs, so I just wanna start this off by saying you aren't a bother whatsoever!

in fact: I love receiving asks about my fics, as well as opening up about the writing that takes to get them to you guys!

so I'm gonna start this reply off with a quick thank you about my works! I'm so happy you're enjoying or have enjoyed what I've written.

RDR2/Arthur Morgan is a pleasure to write about, but I've also really enjoyed the fandom. it's been one of the sweetest and most supportive, and I've found one of my best literary periods with you guys! so thank you! :>

but enough pitter patter about that-- let's get to the fun stuff!

since you had a few questions, I'm gonna answer these in a separated list so it'll be easy to follow along! :)

-------

What is your writing process like?

well, in truth anon, I don't exactly have much of one.

that may surprise some, and others not. in truth, I think that sometimes the idea or concept of a "writing process" kind of scares anyone trying to get into writing.

I'm not sure if you are, anon, but your questions just make me want to cover this, just in case.

writing should come to you how it comes. I'm definitely NOT a textbook writer. I don't have a method where I have cardinal rules and a set up I have to have.

I simply embrace when inspiration strikes. usually while listening to music or absorbing some other media. frankly, if you treat writing like a science, you're gonna get stuck. it isn't an issue you have to fix, or a challenge you have to tackle.

allow yourself to get comfortable and just think whatever comes your way mentally. even if you think an idea is bad, encourage it! you can't write if you don't let yourself think.

so for me, I suppose my "process" is just encouraging my writing and for my brain to pop out ideas or scenes. just write away and see where it takes you!

You use a lot of words-- do you outline by chance?

ah yes. I am a wordy potato, frankly. albeit ACW is an overall outlier at being ALMOST A MILLION WORDS. even then, I don't think any of my over fics have ever really gotten past 150k, and I believe only ONE had done so.

this was... not by design.

believe it or not, I intended ACW to actually be short. 6 chapters like the game and boom, done. I thought I could summarize everything and just show snippets of a growing relationship between Arthur and my unintentional OC, Wolf. it almost would've been like a one-shot just broken up into chapters for homage sake.

but then I overplotted the prologue and next thing I knew, ACW had become this massive, sprawling monster of a slow-burn.

as for outlines... I don't necessarily outline. I'll explain this more in my next response. :)

Do you write a summary of a chapter or fic down, then draft afterward?

so in terms of summary, no. these stories live in my head, and I tend to feel that writing things down is more of a waste of time for me.

my brain flies through stories at such quick speeds I feel like I will lose my spark or my ideas if I take a second to write things down.

I am known to do audio recordings where I talk about my writing though. this is an amazing way to brainstorm on the fly, and some of my best ideas have come from just voicing what I'd like to see happen aloud. additionally: the recordings are a good way to keep track of what I've said and want, just like an outline!

otherwise I don't outline. I'm not sure what the terminology is, but I apparently go after my stories a lot like Stephen King does.

write first, worry about the rest later. I'm very much a "swim and swim even if you're sinking" because I would rather put the work in than fool with floaties to keep myself up.

personally this works wonders for me, as I don't like restraining myself or my head once I'm in motion. it doesn't end well if I do-- like snuffing a candle. I just go for it and I will make sense of it later.

even so, I have general ideas for what I want to happen, and I remember my basic outlines. the details come later, as long as the big picture is visible to me.

as for ACW: the only "outlines" I did was timing of the game missions. just to make sure I didn't miss major happenings, and that I had the timing in a way that flowed for what I wanted both logically and narratively.

as for drafts, I also don't draft. again, I go for it. that being said, I have restarted updates a couple of times, or have deleted entire scenes out of dissatisfaction. most of the time though, it's one and done for me! and it's all done on the fly. :)

Are there scenes you add/remove?

as mentioned above, yes. I have deleted a lot of content from ACW. some ideas never came to, but more often than not, it was repackaged in a way I liked better. so if anything, content was recycled and you all still got to see it in some way.

but there are some things that I want to do that just aren't possible. like many stranger missions. there's no good way to include certain events or characters in ACW without derailing what is going on. so alas: aberdeen pig farm is not a stop on Arthur and Wolf's itinerary.

but for another example, I wanted to showcase more of Wolf's past with her father (specifically her shut in life before his death), and I wanted scenes and more examples of her being disconnected unlike everyone else as a result.

these will come as flashbacks or other scenes in the upcoming chapters, but I intend to add these changes or additions during my revisions! :>

Is there usually a length goal you set?

as for word goals, I never quite had any apart from "at least 20k words" just because that was usually my average, I noticed.

additionally, this made sure I didn't end chapters without putting the bare minimum of content in them, and to have solid continuity. can you imagine have a 20k update and then a 3k one? no thanks!

20k just became my running baseline, after that. otherwise, my limit is when AO3 reaches theirs for the character limit (fence why some updates were split into multiple pieces).

with my other stories, I simply write until the story is properly paced or finished: however long it takes!

---------

whew! what a post!

but I hoped that gave you some more insight, anon.

writing is crazy, and I'm always learning something new. more now than ever, since I'm looking into actually getting something original submitted for publication.

if you (or anyone reading this) are inspired to write yourself, don't be discouraged! writing is one of the most intensive forms of creation. it's not easy. it's not instant. it's a lot of passion and time, let alone a utilization of language and grammar fluency!

it's easy to feel overwhelmed or lost, or feel like it's better to not try than struggle to start. but I can assure, writing is such a splendid thing to do. write for enjoyment, or pleasure, or simply because you want to.

as long as your story isn't intended to be hateful, is your own work, and is fun for you to create... what else matters?

if you want some additional inspiration, just know that I started writing fic in 2012/2013 and have gone through so much in my near TEN YEARS of fic writing. I've learned a lot, and I've grown so much!

be proud of yourself no matter where you are at and start from, and pride yourself in your progress or beginnings.

just go for it! you may surprise yourself!

hope you're having a good one, anon. and thanks for the ask! :)

#luffy asks #anon #fic writing #writing advice #acw #amidst a clash of worlds #luffy posts #long post

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

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Prompt 12, choose you the ship!

A/N: You know, anon (I feel like I know who you are...or not), the hardest part about this isn’t the prompt, but choosing the ship. I’m torn between a classic ship I’m accustomed to writing, and trying characters I haven’t yet. GAAHHHHH. Okayokay. With how the prompt goes, I’m choosing between RWBY’s whiterose (coz this is canon for bumblebee), YagaKimi’s YuuxTouko, revue’s MayaKuro, Love Live’s HonoUmi, Assault lily’s Yujia x Shenlin, or my guilty pleasure ship that is YuuxSayaka from bloom into you. Each pairing has its own unique dynamic and I’m excited and stumped by the endless possibilities of how this could go. Okay, for now, I suppose I’ll extend my repertoire on MayaKuro soooo Enjoy? ~Shintori Khazumi

Prompt 12: “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself”

It was just a small, silly little accident. Redundant as that may sound, she really didn’t want anyone to make such a fuss about it. Never in a million years did she imagine that she would make such an amateur-ish mistake. She was the embodiment of perfection and professionalism. She was the top star, she was, in her own sense, a prima donna, she was-

“TENDOU MAYA!”

Ah, yes. That’s right. That’s who she was. And this perfect Tendou Maya was simply just-

“Just what were you doing? What on earth, or in that mind of yours, is going on for this to happen?” Maya felt her lips part, an explanation lost on her lips. “What could distract you as to allow you to twist your ankle and fall over on the simplest maneuver of our whole routine?!”

Ah, Saijou Claudine. Ever the wonderful existence, and her yelling that was almost the best way to get Maya’s morning started.

In a matter of seconds, the said girl was by her side, knelt down and looking over the reddened spot that was definitely swelling now.

“You... You insufferable- how could you let this happen? We have a show in two days!” Her hands frantically moved back and forth all over Maya’s leg, moving to check her face and arms to see if the brunette had gotten hurt elsewhere; not quite touching her, simply surveying the damage.

“Now, now, Kuro-chan, why don’t we calm down?” Nana, ever the voice of calmness and reason came close, with Junna right at her tail, with a face towel to wipe Maya’s perspiration that was partially due to the physical exertion from dance class, and partly from the pain that was slowly making its presence known.

“How could I possibly calm down?! Ma Maya is hu- I m-mean, the performance is in two days, might I repeat to you all.” Her brows were tightly knit together in that frustrated expression Maya loved to coax out of her pretty little French girl. “A-and maybe T-Tendou Maya’s state and health is... is also... of my...concern” Claudine’s voice noticeably went smaller and quieter as the statement was completed.

And there was the blush that Maya adored even more.

As an icepack came in via Karen and Hikari, who handed it to Claudine who was now wrapping it in another cloth to prepare it for use, Maya decided she didn’t exactly like being the center of attention in this manner.

So, against her better judgment (and common sense), she stood up. Quickly.

Or at least tried to.

“Maya!” Claudine’s distressed screech registered in her ears as her visage told her that she was, once more, falling down, and possibly backwards, with her head in danger of smashing against the hard wood floor.

Only that the floor was surprisingly soft and smelled like her favorite person.

“I swear, what am I supposed to do with you?!” Claudine groaned, having moved just in time to catch Maya, her head and neck supported by Claudine’s left arm, while the right was just under Maya’s thighs, nearing her knees. The brunette found herself securely nestled into Claudine’s bosom, and that was a place she honestly enjoyed being in. Something she would only say to fluster the hot-tempered woman. The ice pack had flown across the floor to free Claudine’s hands of anything but Maya. “You are simply, truly-“ Before Claudine could burst into another tirade, Maya tried to cut off the explosion waiting to happen.

“Saijou Claudine.” She addressed; the girl’s attention completely offered to her. She quite liked that. “As you can see, I attempted to stand as I’m completely alright.” She gave her winning smile: one she had perfected as an actress.

Only that it didn’t work on all audiences, it seemed. Claudine merely scoffed. “Of course, you are. That’s why you can’t even stand on your own right now.” She spoke with a brow lifted, shaking her head in reprimand. “And that is why I shall be accompanying you to the nurse’s office.”

Without so much as a grunt to indicate any difficulty (only a yelp from Maya at the suddenness), Claudine lifted the injured girl smoothly; quickly, yet so gentle that Maya felt like she had just floated up into the air. As if practiced, Maya’s arms naturally found themselves resting around Claudine’s fairly broad shoulders. The half-Japanese girl’s strength was no secret to anyone at this point, so no one was surprised by the ease at which she was able to walk towards the room’s exit with Maya in her arms.

Yes, Maya was not surprised at all. Surprise, no. Embarrassment?

…Maybe just a little.

Adding to that rare embarrassment she felt, the travel to the infirmary was unexpectedly quiet. Unbearably so for Maya. Claudine had not uttered a word since they left the others. Maya felt she preferred the sharp scolding to this cold, agitated silence.

In an attempt to lessen the tension surrounding them, Maya cleared her throat and tapped Claudine’s shoulder for her attention as her eyes had been solely fixated on the path she was taking to the infirmary.

“What.” She spat, tone piercing, eyes staying focused in front of her. Maya contemplated for a moment, hesitating about her next words. Now that she had practiced it in her head, with how Claudine was at the moment, it didn’t look like it would be received well.

Still. She could try?

And so, she tried.

“Saijou Claudine, you know you don’t have to do this. Carrying me all the way there, it might exhaust you. Maybe I could try walking once more?” She began, voice not as confident-sounding as she would have liked. This version of the blonde woman clearly unnerved Maya. Pressing on, clearing her throat a second time, she stated, “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

They came to a halt. Claudine had stopped in her tracks in the middle of the hallway, eyes now wide and staring at Maya owlishly.

“M-ma Claudine?” Maybe Maya should’ve tried a different way of appeasing the other girl. She felt like looking away, her companion’s gaze burning deep into her soul. She awaited with bated breath, bracing herself for any response with the bravest neutral expression she could muster.

Nothing.

Claudine broke her stare, said nothing and continued walking.

Upon reaching the infirmary, Maya found herself laid carefully on the bed while Claudine went to rummage around the cabinets as the nurse was found to be out.

Upon her return, Claudine sat on the bed in front of her, beginning to treat Maya’s swollen ankle, and wincing as she heard the quiet hiss of the girl at something Claudine must have accidentally done to elicit pain. After a pause and a check to see if Maya was now alright to continue, Claudine finished up her bandaging and handed Maya the icepack to gently place on her injured foot.

It was silent. Only the ticking of the room’s clock could be heard.

Until it no longer was.

“I know.” The first words Claudine had spoken after her long silence were, “I know.” She repeated, sighing as she clasped both of Maya’s hands in hers, resting her forehead on their joined hands, face hidden from Maya’s view.

“You know…?” Maya prompted her to continue.

“I know that you are capable of taking care of yourself.” She breathed, lifting her head slightly so that her eyes were now fixed on Maya, lips ghosting over Maya’s hands. A soft kiss was placed on a knuckle each, and Claudine breathed deep. “I just… worry.” Her eyes had this tinge of pain that made Maya’s heart clench. They were so warm and passionate, and so… sad.

Maya felt her face heat up at the most adorable thing that happened next, heart nearly stopping, unable to take it.

Claudine tilted her head slightly to the side, eyes looking up at her from where the French girl was, the tiniest frown on her face. “Is that so wrong… Ma Maya?” Her quiet question released a cage of butterflies inside Maya as she could not help the uncharacteristically large grin from plastering itself on her face.

Maya giggled, and laughed, and smiled, intertwining her fingers with that of the one she loved so dearly.

“I suppose not.” She smiled, leaning in for a sweet kiss, before planting one over Claudine’s forehead. Everything was so warm, calming and sweet.

-Until that teasing light in Maya’s eyes returned.

“Not if I get to have you all over me like this.” She grinned. “I should consider getting into a few more “accidents” in the future if this is what it results in, Ma Claudine. A bashful, sweet-“

“Méchante va, TENDOU MAYA!”

A/N: Aight, I got carried away... cheers?

~Shintori Khazumi

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rainywritingsx · 5 years

Note

Bagukous S/O is hit by a quirk that's supposed to make them love the user, but it doesn't work. Why? Hint hint, they just love Bagukou that much.

Ahhh I love this idea so much!! Also the quirk is so creative, props to you for even coming up with that, anon ^_^. I hope you enjoy! Also, if you have any feedback feel free to let me know. Have fun reading!

ALSO I MISSED WRITIG SO MUCH OMG IT FEELS LIKE I HAVENT POSTED IN TEN YEARS SKSKSK

Warnings: uh,,, it’s Bakugou so,,, sweAriNg

Words: 1338

“‘Lets go on a road trip’, they said. ‘Villains won’t attack us’ they said.” Y/n muttered to themselves as they hid from the nth villain they’d encountered on this so-called road trip. Usually they’d go out there and fight immediately, but Bakugou, Midoriya, Kirishima and Uraraka went to attack them and the rest had to make sure no other villains appeared. You never knew, right?

What y/n had noticed while hiding however, was that this villain hadn’t used their quirk. And their face was covered with a mask so they had no idea who it really was.

They quietly observed him, trying to find out what this villain’s quirk was but nothing seemed to hint at it. The clothes didn’t give away what the quirk was, they didn’t move in a strange way and from what y/n could see, this person was completely human.

What they didn’t realise though, was that right now y/n was in a vulnerable state, since they were observing the villain only and not paying attention to their surroundings.

Sadly, a person took advantage of that fact.

Y/n gasped when they felt a kick against their back that caused them to fall on the ground. Luckily, they managed to land safely so they weren’t hurt. They looked up to see who it was, and it was a stranger, but weirdly enough their clothes seemed a bit similar to the villain.

“Are you one of their sidekicks or something?” They mumbled to themselves. The person chuckled, taking off their, or should we say his now, mask.

“I wouldn’t call myself a sidekick. More like a partner of my dear Kouki-chan.” He said as a wide smirk appeared on his face. That’s when y/n noticed something strange. His eyes... they were pink, and the pupils had the shape of a heart?

“Kouki-chan, huh.” They repeated it to themselves.

“Now, if you just do as I say, you won’t get hurt and you can be Kouki-chan’s partner too!” A small laugh escaped y/n’s lips.

“No thanks. I have a boyfriend.” They said as they slowly got up.

“Oh honey trust me, Kouki-chan is better than any other living thing on this planet. You just don’t see it yet because he hasn’t used his quirk on you.” His quirk... that must’ve meant that this ‘Kouki-chan’ could make people fall for him, right?

“Again, thanks for the offer, stranger that kicked me to the ground, but I’m good.” Y/n said as they crossed their arms against their chest.

“That wasn’t a question, dear. It was a demand.” His eyes seemed to turn darker and his whole ‘sweet’ aura was gone. Before y/n realised it he grabbed their wrists tightly and a strange substance covered them so she wasn’t able to use her hands anymore.

“If you don’t come with me now I’ll carry you.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad, my feet are sore anyways.”

“If I make this stuff that’s on your wrists hot enough, your feet will burn off.”

“Oh.” Well That was a blunt statement wasn’t it? Y/n sighed and decided to come with him.

As they walked, she looked around, hoping to see any of their classmates but they couldn’t find anyone. And Bakugou... where was their boyfriend when they needed him?

Her eyes widened when she heard voices. They sounded like Midoriya and Kirishima who were probably talking to Uraraka and Bakugou. They could help her! Wait... if they were here, the villain would probably be here too.

“She’s here, Kouki-chan!” The male spoke in an overly sweet tone. The unfamiliar voice was what caused everyone to turn to the source and their eyes widened when they saw y/n.

“Y/n!” Bakugou yelled as he was about to run over to his s/o, until the villain spoke up.

“If you get any closer to her I promise she won’t make it out alive.” He stopped. He honestly just wanted to beat this jerk’s ass but he also didn’t want his lover to get hurt.

The villain walked up to y/n, resting his hand on their cheek as he looked into their eyes.

“My, my, aren’t you beautiful. Is that blond hothead over there your boyfriend?” Both y/n and Bakugou kept their mouths shut, but the explosive guy was about to literally explode.

“I’m sure my little pet over there has told you about me..” y/n scoffed.

“Yeah, you need a quirk for people to actually like you. Sounds kind of pathetic if you ask me.” Bakugou smirked at this, wanting to yell ‘that’s my fucking girl!’, but he knew better.

“Oh no babydoll, you don’t understand. I don’t make them fall for me, I make them realise what they’ve been missing all along. And that,” he nodded his head towards Bakugou “is clearly not what you need.”

“I don’t want to be your little slave, asshole.” The villain chuckled as he pulled y/n’s face closer, causing steam to come out of Bakugou’s ears while Kirishima held him back to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his s/o, he just knew that they were very uncomfortable with the way that stranger was acting.

“Do you think you have a choice, princess? Everyone loves me, and now you will too.” He said as his eyes and pupils suddenly became similar to his ‘partner’s’. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, gasping at what was happening. Though they didn’t know his quirk at first, seeing the sidekick and the way he talked to y/n pretty much gave it away.

“Now now, my dear y/n, will you obey me from now on?” Y/n didn’t say a word as she nodded slowly, her head hung low.

“Ah don’t worry, my quirk sometimes make the people that I use it I’m tired, you’ll feel better soon. Yuto, how about you release their hands?”

“Everything for you, Kouki-chan!”

“Crap, what do we do now?” Midoriya asked the others.

“If we attack now he will obviously use y/n to fight against us.” Uraraka said.

“Let’s kill this fucker.” Bakugou spoke, his voice deeper than usual, anger evident in his tone as little explosions erupted from his hands.

“That does sound quite tempting, Bakugou-kun, but we also need to think about y/n-chan’s safety and uhm , our reputation as UA students.” Uraraka spoke, attempting to calm down the blasts boy, which, didn’t really happen but he did manage to finally use his brain.

Before they could even agree to a plan, they heard the villain cry out in pain. They all gasped and turned to look, and there was y/n, holding the villain to the ground.

“H-how did she...” Midoriya spoke wide-eyed. Y/n chuckled before pushing the villain further into the dirty ground.

“You guys really think a pathetic villain like him could take away my love for Katsuki?” Bakugou smirked at this, crossing his arms before making eye contact with his s/o. Their friends couldn’t help but smile at this.

“They’re such a cute couple oh my gosh.” Uraraka whisper-yelled. Kirishima nodded as he rested his hand on his chest.

“So manly!” He said, voice dripping with passion.

“That’s my fucking baby, god I love you so damn much.” Bakugou sighed as he shook his head in disbelief. “I’m so lucky man...”

“I love you too, Katsuki...” y/n spoke, a blush creeping on their cheeks. About a second later they realised that they were sitting on the villain, who was still slightly conscious.

“Now, would you guys help? I think that little slave got away and we need to get in contact with the pros. Oh Katsuki, sweetie, would you help me with beating up this little jerk?” They spoke, voice sweet as honey as they looked at their boyfriend, whose smirk got wider.

“Oh you don’t need to ask me twice, baby.”

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou scenario #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you

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ofmymuses · 4 years

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Hello! I saw somewhere you are writing a book and I currently doing the same thing! May I ask you on some tips? I struggle with attention span, my own writing style and the pacing. How do you deal with this kind of stuff? Also with critics? I know I need it to be better but I am still super sensitive. GOOD LUCK TO YOU BTW!!!

hey hey !! firstly, i want to thank you for messaging me here rather than over on my indie – i’d just rather keep it purely rping stuff over there so again, thank you :~) & also thank you for the well wishes !! i’m super excited & i wish you the absolute best with your book as well !! ~ what’s yours going to be about ? if you ( anyone reading this, not just anon ) ever want dm me & gush about our books, i would actually love to :’’’)

but onto some tips … please keep in mind that these are just what i do because i, too, have the attention span of an actual rock DFKGHS. if you ever need help with anything else ( regarding story writing or anything else ), feel free to come back @ any time + i’d be more than happy to help :-)

so … i don’t think it really matters where you choose to write your story – in any writing software or wherever – but i’d suggest writing in google docs simply because it says as you go &, knowing from experience, there’s nothing more heartbreaking than writing for an hour just for the app to crash + you lose all you’re writing.

( i’m going to put the rest under a read more so i can write all my thoughts & not worry about it being super long – which it is, sorry about that – & clogging the dash )

i made a separate tumblr account strictly for my book where i can put my thoughts, ideas, chapter outlines, character stuff, etc on. whenever i go to write in my book, i keep that tumblr signed in & i get off the dash and only keep the actual blog open because not only does it help having it open to add anything important you may think of while writing but it also helps keep your attention off the dash ‘cause you won’t be following anyone on that account so none of the posts will be your friends or anything that really pertains to you. you’ll also be able to follow / reblog writing help stuff or just things that inspire your book there without worrying about “messing up” the content on your main blog.

don’t open any tabs of things that might grab your attention — social media, youtube, game sites, etc. it’s super important to only keep writing help tabs up so you aren’t tempted to visit the other tabs + potentially get lost among them and lose time. the tabs i personally keep open are: google docs for writing, spotify ( or 8tracks ) for inspiring music & thesaurus ( or powerthesaurus ) for help finding new words. this is just me, personally, but you can open anything that you think will help you stay focus & inspired to write. if it doesn’t / if it’ll just be a distraction, don’t open it.

pop on some music that gives off the vibe of your story. this can help you stay inspired & get more in the zone. what i always do is think of different games / books / shows that are the same genre and look up playlists for that other thing. or you can directly look up the genre of your book + writing. so, if you’re writing a scary book about a haunted mansion, you could look up “writing” + “horror” ( or just “horror” ) & i guarantee you a lot of different options will come up to help you really get into that setting. !! BUT !! if music distracts rather than inspires & if you prefer writing in complete silence, just ignore this ~ it’s not for everyone. a bit of a tip i do have for you though, if you’re in a noisy area, is to put headphones / earphones in. it won’t block out ALL of the noise but it’ll at least help muffle the sound around you.

there really isn’t one set way to stay focused ; you can google different ways to keep your attention on one thing but something that really helps me is writing about something i love or something that inspires me ! writing a story about a romance that blossoms when your true passion is in the adventure genre is a surefire way of making it hard to focus when writing. no one likes to write stuff you aren’t interested in ~ so don’t do it ! it’s your book and no one can tell you not to write what you love. just find a topic / genre you really enjoy & start there.

regarding pacing …. ( future edit: i realize i didn’t understand what type of pacing you meant .... so i didn’t really answer your question but i have links at the bottom to help you; sorry about that !! ) let me tell you upfront that i am the worst when it comes to pacing because i either write for 5 hours straight or write for 5 minutes then walk away. and that’s okay ! in reality, you can’t force yourself to write. this just leads to sloppiness and while, yes, it’s the first draft, you’ll be giving yourself extra things to do in the future ( figuring out what you wanted to write / what you meant at the time / editing, etc etc ). SO ! what do you do when you don’t feel like writing ? i’ve been using this word a lot and i apologize but you should inspire yourself to write. i’d suggest maybe watch a movie that’s similar to your book or watching a bit of a playthrough of a game ( or play a bit of it yourself if you have it ) that’s similar to your book or even read a bit of a different book ! you can also wait until you feel the urge to write again but there’s never telling how long that could be. something that i’m going to try doing is making a schedule for writing your book. this can absolutely help keep you on track as well as making sure you don’t burn out from writing too much.

when it comes to critiquing my stories, i always show it to my mom / brother / boyfriend / anyone i trust to give their real opinion. i think it’s important to get critics from people you KNOW will be honest ( but not rude or hurtful ) about it. i do this throughout writing & not when i’m fully finished ~ this is just because books can be very long & take a while for people to finish meaning you get feedback slower than if you were to show your writing during the process ?? if that makes sense ? you can also send it to online friends ( which is another reason i love google docs btw !! you can so easily send a viewing link out ) and get an opinion from them.

regarding writing style …. i feel like this is a lot like when artists find their art style. you can just write & let the words flow or you could also read books from different authors & see which interests you or you could even google different styles ? you shouldn’t force yourself to do a certain style though, pick one that flows well for you & isn’t stressful to write.

i’m sorry for how long this got DFDKGHD i didn’t realize how much there was to say but i think i got it all out. i hope it helped you out even a little bit ! i’ll leave you with a few resources to further help you out :~) like i said before, please do come back if you have any other questions or if you want to tell me about your book because i’d looooooove to hear it ~

8 ways to improve your focus

8 quick ways to improve your attention span

10 ways to stand out and develop a unique writing style

how to find your writing style

7 quick tips for mastering pacing in your story

pacing in writing: what is it and how to master it

how to create strong pacing for your story

#Anonymous #general help #answered #BEST WISHES TO YOU + YOUR BOOK!!#also drinking game: drink whenever i say 'inspired' or 'your book' DFJGHSDG

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childotkw · 5 years

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Can you give us tips to write better?

Okay, here goes. This will be a big one, just a warning.

Writing is, in my opinion, a craft that you can never fully, truly master. It’s an ever-evolving thing, and no matter where you are sitting as a writer–whether it’s your first time actually giving it a shot, whether you are young and feel like you haven’t experienced life enough to write, or you are a published author with multiple awards to your name–you can always, and will, get better.

Writing is a skill, which is a fact that I feel some people either misunderstand, or simply don’t realise. No one is born a writer. It’s something you pick up along the way because you like it. Sure, there might be some people who just seem ‘naturally’ gifted at writing, people that are just inherently creative and have a knack for putting words together in a certain way that resonates with people.

But no matter how amazing an author is, I guarantee you, that somewhere they’ve got a story stashed that they wrote when they were five, or seven, or eleven, or however many years old, that just makes them cringe. I’m taking a full-bodied, head-ducked, face-creased cringe. A story that they view as an embarrassment to the world and would honestly die if anyone read it. Everyone has one, and if they say they don’t, they’re smart enough to lie about it, so that no one tries to find it.

Mine was something that I wrote when I was in primary school, so around the 10-11 age. I had to do it for a test, and it was awful. God, just thinking about it now makes my soul shrivel a little bit. It was about some astronauts that went to Mars, and encountered hostile aliens. It had every cliche you can think of stuffed into it, filled with over-the-top drama, and weak characters, and dialogue that was so stilted and robotic it makes me cry.

I found it the other day when I was cleaning out my room and decided to read through it–and I was torn between face-palming at how bad I was, and smiling fondly, because no matter how terrible I thought it was–it was one of the first stories I had ever written, and it showed me just how far I have come since then.

What I’m trying to say is that everyone started somewhere, and no matter how ‘terrible’ you think you might be at writing, you can always, always, get better. Writing takes perseverance and passion, so as long as you have that drive to improve, you’re already on the right track.

Now, onto your actual question anon, I can’t give any specific pointers on how you personally can improve, because I don’t know how you write, and it would be arrogant and patronising of me to assume your skill level. I’m still a fledgling writer myself, and while I’m certainly honoured that you consider me good enough to ask advice from, I can’t promise that what I say will work for you. Everyone’s different, and writers more so than most.

But I’m more than happy to share some things that I use to keep myself motivated, or to improve my own techniques and style. Be prepared for an essay, my dear, and be warned that some points might overlap or be in a weird order. I just wrote them down as they came to me.

READ

I can’t stress this enough. If you want to get better as a writer, read. Read fanfictions, read novels, read poems and screenplays and whatever else you want. There’s no such thing as a writer who doesn’t read. Reading is a way for you to expand upon your understanding of writing in general, it teaches you different tricks and trades that makes everything flow better. Reading gives you a broader foundation from which to build your own skills on. I spend a significantly larger portion of my time reading other people’s stories than I do writing my own. It gives you perspective and guidance.

RESEARCH

If you are going to write a story that’s got any significant sort of plot points or grounding in actual reality, you need to have your facts straight. If you’re writing a period-based piece, make sure what you’re writing about is historically accurate for that time. If you’re writing a fanfiction based in someone else’s world (i.e. Harry Potter, Naruto, BNHA), then make sure that the rules you write within that world either adhere to the pre-existing ones, or are fleshed out enough to work. If you are writing a completely new story, with a new world and new rules, then make sure you don’t contradict yourself. Treat your new world as something that’s always existed. Research similar ideas and see how other authors handled certain aspects. Are you making a completely new religion for this world, are there gods? Are you dealing with magic, if so, what are the rules? Angels and demons, what are their powers? Research is key. Know what you’re talking about.

DON’T JUST WRITE

This might seem strange, but don’t just write. Have other creative outlets. Try drawing. Try digital design. Make a game. Do something other than writing to keep your brain from not exhausting itself on one medium. Be creative, don’t limit yourself, expand your skills. I help my mother with digital design and I’m a gaming student, so I make assets and levels. It’s a great way to keep yourself from burning out.

DON’T FORCE IT

Writing is not easy, and there will be some days where the words just don’t want to come. That’s fine. Don’t force yourself to write if it’s not coming to you. All you’ll end up doing is taking yourself down a road of frustration and anger. Just leave it for a bit and come back to it, or jump to another, easier section. Don’t push too hard.

TAKE BREAKS

Very similar to the above point. Take breaks. Take regular breaks. Take a few days off. Take a week off. Hell, take a whole month off if you need it. You need down-time, so give it to yourself. And don’t feel guilty about it either. Writing takes time, and if you are going at it 24/7, all you will do is turn something you love into something you hate because it’s all you ever do.

HAVE INSPIRATION

Some people make mood boards with themes and pictures that represent what they want. Some people just have aspirations or idols they want to live up to. A published author you admire, or you a novel you want to complete, or just that one fanfiction idea you really want to take a crack at. Have a goal of some sort, it will help keep you motivated and focussed if you’re actively working towards something. For me, I want to have a published book under my name within the next two years.

SUPPORT

Have people you can talk to. Even just that one person you can prattle to about your ideas. I have my sister and my mum that let me throw ideas at them and help me flesh out plot points. Have someone that encourages you and supports you.

STAY ORGANISED

Write your ideas down. Doesn’t matter if they are just little snippets or novel-length story ideas. Write something down so it’s not sitting in your head cluttering things up. Or if you are like me, then just keep your story ideas organised and know how to shut them out so you can focus on your current project.

FRUSTRATION

It’s perfectly fine to get frustrated when you’re writing. If you don’t get frustrated, either you are some form of deity that doesn’t experience human emotions or you are so far above me. The most important thing about getting frustrated though, is don’t be too hard on yourself. Don’t get angry at yourself, because that is a slippery slope to go down. Work through it in a constructive way.

PREPARATION

Be diligent with your work. Know what you want to write, have something planned. Know who your characters are, what their dreams are, their personalities and history. Know what your plot is; it doesn’t have to be all of it, but at least know the critical turning points of your story. The more you know about your story, the more well-rounded it will read, and the more intriguing it will be to your audience.

WORLDBUILDING

In terms of worldbuilding, remember that your story is only a small drop of a larger world. Even if it never makes it into the story itself, the more you understand the elements that are happening in the background of your story (i.e. the religions of the world you’ve created, the gods that exist, the politics, the hierarchy, the science or magic), the better it will be for readers, and the easier it will be for you to keep everything neat.

DO OTHER THINGS

Don’t let your writing consume you. Do other things that aren’t related to writing. Go out with friends, go for a walk, go to the beach for a day or to the park. Do things that make you happy, that isn’t writing.

MUSIC

This definitely doesn’t apply to everyone. But for me, music is great background noise. I don’t even listen to the songs I have anymore, I just need something blocking out the rest of the world so I can enter tunnel-vision for my writing sessions. I don’t have a set playlist, I just shuffle all of my songs and write. Listen to whatever works for you. Sometimes I listen to japanese koto music just to shake things up. Go nuts.

PERSISTENT

Be persistent, be fierce, be steadfast with your work. Your story is your idea, it’s yours. Nurture it however you want and don’t let other people try and take control from you. Of course, if you have an editor, listen, but remember it’s still your baby, and you should have the final say on how things proceed.

BE SURPRISED

Sometimes your story will throw you a curveball. Sometimes a random idea will blindside you, and will completely change the end of your story. You don’t always have to stick to your original plot idea. It can change and evolve over time, and it should. If it feels like a natural change, go for it. Don’t be afraid to let your idea grow into something more.

CHARACTERS

Treat your characters as real people. Ask yourself if a real person would talk the way your character talks. Ask what a real person (with the character’s background) would feel in certain circumstances. Give them dreams and aspirations and hopes and relationships. Make them three-dimensional, give them a favourite colour or food, even if you never mention it in the story. The more real they are to you, the more real they will feel to your readers.

PRIDE

Be proud of your work and what you accomplish. Never delete your stories, they let you look back and see how far you’ve come. One of my greatest regrets was when I deleted the first fanfiction I ever wrote because I got some rude comments. Being able to track your progress is one of your best tools, it lets you reflect on your skills in a meaningful way.

CRITICISM

Following on from the previous point, criticism. You need to be prepared for it. There is no way you can avoid criticism as a writer. There will always be people that won’t like what you’ve made, or will potentially try to tear you down. You need to have fortitude to battle through the emotional and mental challenge it can be. You should never let what other people really think get to you, or even better, know how to cut through their words to see what were the issues they had with the story. Sometimes, even the rudest, most harsh criticism can have some insight. Don’t focus so much on how they say it, focus on what they are saying. If they point out plot holes, or character flaws that make no sense, use it to improve upon yourself.

In my opinion, there’s nothing more satisfying than being able to look at the people who once insulted you and say “look at me now, bitch”. I often wonder what those few terrible people would think of me now, the people who left me such harsh reviews that it literally drove me from the fandom for a long time. I kind of wish I could walk up to them and show them what I have done with myself, and that their little tantrum at a little eleven-year old girl and her first story, didn’t break me. It’s an empowering feeling.

PERSPECTIVE

This is a more technical aspect of writing, and it has to do with perspective. This is just a general warning when it comes to picking either first, second or third perspective to write from. In my opinion, try to avoid first and second perspective. They can be incredibly difficult to write with, and sometimes the story will come across as stilted or uncomfortable to read if you don’t know how to do it well. By all means, if you prefer writing in those perspectives, then stick with them. Just make sure you can convey everything you need to. I just find third perspective easier because there is a type of detachment reading and writing from it that isn’t there with the other two.

PACING

Again, on a technical note. Pacing is key to an effective story. You need to know when and how to balance action and inaction. If you are writing a novel-length sort of story, be careful of falling into the pit of “I need to have something important happening every single second”. The kind of high-strung story needs a very specific kind of genre to work, such as crime, or horror. But even in those stories, there are moments of respite for the characters and the readers. Often these little drops in tension act as great moments to show the softer sides of your characters, or have a nice emotional bonding moment. Inaction can be just as, if not more, effective than action.

VOCABULARY

Synonyms are your friends. Use them. Get a new word, then synonym that word. You expand your vocabulary by doing this, and the more you do it, the less you will actually have to use the thesaurus, because you will have built this complex web in your head of words. As well as this, I can’t stress how important it is to know the definition of the word you are using. Look up words you don’t know or are unsure of. It takes a lot of pressure off of you if you know which words make sense for the context of your story.

FOREGROUNDING

Foregrouding is an interesting skill that most writers use, but not many might actually know the name of. It’s a funny little technique, and even I didn’t know the technical term for it, even though I had been incorporating it into my writing for years. Foregrounding is essentially making something stand out in your writing by suddenly changing the style. For explain, for most of the piece, you might have been using long, flowery sentences, with a lot of description and emotion behind the words. A way to foreground this, would be to make your key sentence, or the “most important” part of the piece just a simple, harsh sentence with no embellishment. Many writers use foregrounding to shock or jolt their readers when something happens. Another way to do this would be if there was a death scene, you could spend a lot of time describing the wounds of the victim, what the blood looks like, what it smells like, the clothes they are wearing, what the other character is feeling, and then cut right to the victim dying. Here’s an example of something I’ve written with it:

The blood welling out the cuts reminded her of paint, thick and so incredibly bright as it slid out of the corner of his mouth and down his pale throat. She reached out with a trembling hand, carefully curling her fingers in his jacket and tugging until he was on his back. The sight was somehow worse now that she could see everything, but she didn’t let herself falter at the smell that hit her or the fact that she could see the white of his ribs through the shredded remains of his chest.

He wasn’t breathing.

That was really basic, but it shows the essence of foregrounding. Cutting away from a really in-depth, descriptive piece to something simple and plain is jarring in all the best ways. Or vice versa. If you have written something that lacks any significant description or emotion, then have a sentence brimming with the stuff. It’s shaking up your usual style to create a very specific reaction.

WHITE SPACE

White space is also known as negative space. It’s the parts of the page that aren’t filled with text, like the gaps between paragraphs. You should never underestimate the power of having white space in your stories. If I click onto a story that is just massive blocks of text, I immediately hit the back button. It’s just an automatic response for me, because I can’t actually handle having to slog through that much text in one go. Breaking up your text is a really efficient way to keep a reader’s attention, because that white space is like a little reprieve for your eyes. Try to avoid having huge paragraphs, or if you do need to have them, try and make them sparse.

GRAMMAR

Grammar is super important for a lot of reasons. Grammar holds the story together, and poor grammar can put people off of a story immediately. Most people have their own standards for grammar, but punctuation is a big thing for me. You need to stick to your guns with punctuation. If you use ‘ ’ (single quotation marks) for a character speaking, then later on use “ ” (double quotation marks) for a character speaking, then flip between the two, it can be really distracting. It’s the same with commas and semicolons and hyphens–most of us probably don’t have a concrete grip on what punctuation is ‘correct’ to use in most instances, but somehow you can immediately tell when it’s wrong. Grammar is, unfortunately, a key aspect to writing. You need to get it right or everything can fall apart.

HAND WRITE

A good practice to get into is hand-writing some of your passages. I have a notebook that I will just randomly start writing in, even though I might have my laptop open in front of me. It doesn’t matter if your handwriting is terrible, using pen and paper is actually one of the best ways for you to process information. Plus there is less margin for error, since it takes significantly longer for you to write, whereas it is very easy to miss words or make mistakes when typing. I’m sure I’ve made a few myself in this post already.

READ ALOUD

Read what you write aloud to yourself, or other people if you feel comfortable doing so. This really helps you to smooth out any lingering awkward phrasing or pauses and a whole plethora of other tiny things we all miss. Reading your work aloud pushes all those issues to the front. It can be an annoying process, but it’s really effective. Also, make sure to regularly change your font whenever you are reading through your work, and potentially the font size as well. These changes make your eyes and brain pay more attention, because even if you have gone through the same piece several times, they don’t know that, and will automatically refocus because it all looks ‘new’.

MIGRATE

If you get stuck on a project–jump to another. There’s nothing wrong with hoping between stories, or even side projects. Sometimes one story is just being stubborn, and going to work on something new helps get your creative juices flowing. I tend to find it most helpful when the projects I jump between are vastly different, either in terms of tone, or the fandom they are based in.

WRITE v EDIT

Try not to write and edit at the same time. Your brain needs a chance to switch between the roles, and if you try and force yourself to do them both at the same time, you will just end up going around and around and feel like you’re getting nowhere. Make your writing and editing times completely different, so that you’re avoiding that horrible spiral.

REWRITE

Don’t be afraid to rewrite things. I sometimes get to the end of a 7,000 word chapter, read over it, then rewrite the whole damn thing because I either didn’t like it, or forgot something, or there was one section that wasn’t clicking with everything well enough. Rewriting is great, and it can be fun too. It helps you to smooth out the crinkles in your story flow, and makes everything seem neater and ordered. Plus, I find the process extremely satisfying for some reason.

DAILY

Try and write daily. Set aside even just ten minutes a day to just writing something. Even one new word is another step you have taken towards the completion of your story. And if you find you can’t, that’s fine too. Maybe just use those ten minutes to read over what you already have. That’s how I get my writing spark back, I read what I have written, get sucked in, then get annoyed when I get to the end and become determined to finish. I fall for it every time and it’d be embarrassing if it wasn’t the entire reason I update my stories.

TREAT YO SELF

The title says it all. Treat yourself. If you finish that chapter that you’ve been stuck on for weeks–celebrate! If you plot out a character’s backstory and have figured out where you will be going with them in the future–celebrate! The little milestones are just as important as the finished project, and they deserve to be acknowledged. Have a reward system for yourself. Mine isn’t really big, it’s just the dopamine hit I get every morning when I wake up after posting a chapter, knowing I get to spend my morning laying in bed reading everyone’s comments.

FOCUS MODE

I find it very useful to write with the focus mode activated in Word, or on Full Screen mode in Google Docs. The lack of distractions on the screen makes it easier for me to concentrate and get my work done. I also tend to write with a black background and white/grey text–it’s a bad habit that I need to get out of, but it really helps me power out my chapters.

CRY

Sometimes writing can get really difficult, and that’s okay. I have been driven to tears sometimes when trying to write a chapter. Not because the part of the story is particularly emotional, but just because I need to get rid of some of my pent up frustration and exhaustion. Crying is an absolutely fine response to being overwhelmed, and no one should ever be ashamed of crying because of their story. Once you release all that build up, you will feel so much better.

EXERCISE

This is something I have to get into the habit of doing, but exercise is so important to writing. You need to make sure you stay on top of your health as a writer. Too often we just sit in front of our computers for hours at a time, not moving, poor posture, neck cramping and eyes dry. Get up and move every half-hour, even if it’s a lap of your house. Go to the gym if you can, just like with editing, you should set aside some time of your week to just exercising. It will improve your mood, and make the writing process so much easier.

BREAK PATTERNS

You’re a writer. You’re a creative thinker. We are not made to be confined in boxes and labelled and categorised. Go out there and write whatever the hell you want to write. Break conventional writing patterns, flip the rules on their heads. Every great author out there did something fresh and unique with their art, and you should too. Don’t be afraid to branch out of your comfort zone and give something a go. Be different.

——–

There is so much more to being a writer than just being good at writing sentences, or coming up with an idea. You’ll notice that a lot of my tips aren’t even directly linked to the act of writing, and there’s a reason for that. You are your most important asset. You are the one doing the writing. Take care of yourself, take your time, stay strong, keep your goal in mind, and just write. Write and write and write, and then write some more. The more effort you put into it, the harder you push yourself, the better you’ll get.

This is all I’ve got for the moment, and while it might not have been what you were looking for, I still hope this helps you in some capacity. And if nothing on this list does–great! You’re different from me and so many other authors out there, which means you’ve got something I don’t, and you will make something new and special.

You do you, my dear. Find what works for you, rip apart my advice and twist it into whatever suits you. There is no one way to become a better writer.

#anonymous #writing #personal #writing tips

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yourdanganronpaneedshere · 5 years

Note

How about Rantaro, Shuichi, And Kaito having a love suite dream with their s/o talking about their relationship for the past few years and asking if they want to go further into their relationship?

This anon is tryin to make me loose my innocence… How dare they, if this ask didn’t make my heart feel the way it does I’d be annoyed. This is a bit late because I had a bit of trouble but I tried very hard for this one!

~Mod Himiko

Under the cut for Suggestive Themes and Length!

Shuichi Saihara

The relationship you shared with Saihara was perfectly comfortable as it was, but you couldn’t help and notice that your own lingering stares towards the quiet detective aren’t completely innocent anymore and that satiating yourself with delicate kisses only caused you a craving need

Unfortunately, the situation you couple found yourself trapped in was a less than preferable scene. Shuichi is, however, significantly more at ease with you at his side. That isn’t to say he’d rather you here with him than safe somewhere else because he’d gladly suffer through this quirky game for you, but he can’t help but have soft feelings whenever you were with him

Luckily the robotic bear didn’t seem to inflict any harm and although his constant lingering and shrill voice got bothersome fast, Monokuma never seemed to single the participants off.

One exception of this was when Shuichi practically summoned the sadistic thing the following night after attaining an odd item called the ”Love Key”. Before he knew it, Saihara was pushing open an over-the-top red and pink door to an equally over-the-top heart themed bedroom. After he got over the searing velvet and rose shades in his eyes, he noticed the room was occupied by a seated you on the edge of the centered bed

You’re not even into your proposal, heck, you haven’t even spoken yet your boyfriends face heats up at the sight of you. And even Shuichi seems a bit put off by his own fluster, but he’s still attentive to your every movement and nervous shifting of your eyes. Never a wrong time to do what he’s good at and observe apparently

Saihara decides to give you a soft greeting before joining you on the bed, beckoned by the hand patting the fabric near you

“Sorry for calling you in here so suddenly… but I have something important to talk about…” you start, “It’s about our relationship.”

For a moment his heart leaps in his chest but then he takes a moment to realize that you ideal scenario probably wouldn’t be breaking up with him. Although he may doubt himself, Shuichi is capable enough to realize that you love him just as much as he loves you. Even so, he can’t figure out exactly what it is you’re leading to and doesn’t want to get ahead of himself so he instead gently encourages you to continue

Sahara’s chest does all sorts of flips as he watches you expression turn oh so loving when you describe how well the past few years with him have been. He genuinely smiles at how comforting it feels to be around you but the grin drops slowly when you take on a more serious look and take a deep breath

“ And well…” you gently grasp his hands and gather your bearings. “I was wondering if we could take our relationship to the next level?” You finish by locking your eyes with his, which hardly settles his now pounding heart. Shuichi’s eyebrows shoot up and his wide eyes seemingly beg you to elaborate further, which you do

When you turn over onto him, straddling Saihara (maybe more bold than you usually are but this dream has endless possibilities he guesses), his mind practically blanks yet he still manages to almost immediately draw his hands to your thighs. Even through surprise, Shuichi can’t seem to tear his gaze from yours. A mumble of your names on his lips as you start to lean forward, closing the short space between you

“Can we go all the way together?” you ask, pressed against Shuichi enough that he can hear your soft question reverberate through him. His chin lifts just a little, eye-lashes meeting for a quick moment as a shudder thrums through him

If this is what he’s experiencing because of your want, then this must be what you’ve been thinking of recently, right? Why he’d notice your eyes raking over him more often or why the already affectionate kisses you shared were always filled with more passion…

Shuichi barely holds back a second shiver, now very aware of your warm body against him, every heated breathe you take… He soundlessly wraps his arms around your waist and with a certain spark, finds your eyes one last time.

It’s when he moves in close enough that you foreheads are touching that Shuichi allows himself to answer your question. You find that hitches in his breathing becoming more noticeable when he’s nearly melting against you, pale lips delicately meeting your own

Kaito Momota

The boisterous (but not quite yet an) astronaut takes any chance he can to show his overwhelming love for you! He’s especially fond of wrapping and arm around your shoulders while you lean against him, which gave you many open opportunities to discuss your relationship with him, but you always chickened out at the last moment or just happened to get interrupted by his own confident coos

Such affection didn’t tone down even though you two found yourselves trapped in an odd school with other Ultimate students. Charming nights often were taken up by the two of you in one or the others room, holding each other with dorky smiles on your face, talking about everything and anything to take your minds off the negativity, basking in the company of a loved one

Now, Kaito is a bit thick when it comes to hints, but he had at least had the same kind of thoughts cross his mind a few times, even if he never voiced them

On one night, one where he had one of his less innocent fantasies of you fill his mind, Momota was soon to begin living it out with you

Honestly, he was hesitant to use the Love Key he somehow received. The stars he wishes to float amongst one day must have been perfectly aligned for him to have actually won anything that required any gambling skills

But it’s not like he’d be complaining later

He doesn’t think of turning back when he’s met with the intimidatingly loving door, but he does have some concerns. Of course, they all melt away when he opens it and sees you

“Hey, (S/O)!” He calls, already happy to see you. Almost ready to engulf you in a comfy and familiar hug. Kaito forgot for a moment the rules that came with this dream but after quickly remembering them and his grin became a softer smile and he instead patted your shoulder and took a seat on the bed near as you followed suit. He wasn’t sure how your fantasy was going to play out but he was sure he could handle it, it’s you after all!

Kaito savoured the way your expression brightened up from your previous, more on-edge one. You greeted him too, albeit, softer than the way he had. Momota calls you out on your insecure demeanor, telling you that whatever is on your mind shouldn’t bother you now that he’s here and rubs soothing circles into your back, focused on lifting up your mood

After a bit of you relishing in the gentle attention, Kaito listened to you open up about your few-year relationship, slowing down his movements until he settled for simply leaning closer to you

Sometimes he’ll give nods of acknowledgement or short but spunky agreements at any mentions of the nicer moments you mention. He’s content to listen to you speak your mind and doesn’t worry a bit as to why you’re going over the topic of you both together. That being said, he still isn’t worried when you tell him how you want to experience more with him. Kaito is, however, somewhat taken aback. For a moment, he glances away from your eyes with furrowed brows while he scratches the back of his head.

“Oh, uh… you don’t mean?…” He finally says, bringing his arm back down and questioning you for clarification. Momota wants to know if he’s actually on the right track and not making any hasty assumptions. He doesn’t mean for his response to come out as if he hoping he’s wrong, he really does want the explanation first.

This deters your dream-self though, and he snaps to the reality once more that he’s supposed to be going along with everything you want. In realizing this again, his toothy grin returns much larger than before, optimism really shining through over how your desires in this love-hotel are transferred from your actual desires. He’s really glad that he listened to Monokuma for once

“I mean yeah! If you’re ready, I am too! (S/O) I’m glad that you told me all this because I really am excited, you know?” He’s hardly embarrassed, but the red on his ears presents his readiness to experience it all with you

Just as extra oomph, to show you that he’s telling the truth and nothing but the truth, he leans in close placing his hands on your waist and pulls you in for a passionate kiss where you can feel his every emotion just burning against you

He can’t wait to meet you again in the morning

Rantaro Amami

Rantaro has always been an affectionate lover, never one to shy away from cuddles and kisses as well as always seeming to move at a comfortable pace. Although he made the first-moves in the relationship, it just hadn’t felt like he caught on to your hints about going up another step in your romance

You still found yourself being pressed against his body more often that not in cuddles, his almost teasing eyes smiling at you mysteriously before chasing your lips with his own; much more intimate than your earlier snuggles with Amami, but there was just something even more intimate on your mind.

Unfortunately, with him making the all the moves before you, it was a difficult subject to bring up. Fortunately though, your slumber was apparently a perfect palace of wish fulfillment, despite your lack of knowing so

Rantaro found himself fiddling with the oddly shaped key in his hand, running his fingers over the metal with calloused fingers after the surprise visit from Monokuma, not doubting his curiosity, but instead his motivation. It couldn’t hurt to go, he supposes after moments of quiet contemplation. Idly making his way to the hotel with a cleared and calm mind, his sense of adventure tingling just a bit

He almost sighs at the sight of the door, amused at its complexity and bubbling colours, had one of his younger sisters designed it? It looked like a child’s art project for their puppy crush on Valentine’s Day. But perhaps he’s thinking too hard over a door. Or maybe, in spite of it all, Amami was at least a little bit on edge. Unconsciously refusing to letting that show when he unlocked the door and stepped inside

He immediately smiles at you, kind enough to make your curiously warm face even pinker. Rantaro notices your hands are rubbing together and remembers he’s meant to play a certain role, specific to your supposed ideal situation. And so he breaks the ice with a question

“Hey (S/O), how’re you?” simple enough that it should eventually lead to something about what you want. He’s confident he can conform to your desires with a few hints, you shouldn’t be too different from your conscious self so Rantaro decides that he knows you well enough to understand what’s behind any twitch in your finger or shaky smile

Your answer is simple, “Good,” and he makes his way to your side before you continue, both of you finding yourselves on the bed. “I just wanted to talk if you’re wondering why I asked you to come in here…” you explain.

“Oh? What about? I’m all ears.” He encourages you with another smile, happy that he didn’t have to pry far and risk things getting out of hand or too awkward.

Rantaro doesn’t fake his nods and affirmation when you start conversing with him about your relationship. He intently listens to what you have to say, picking out that this scenario was indeed, referencing the real relationship you shared

By the way you glance at him every so often, obviously nervous and the flushed expression on your face, Amami isn’t worried about where you’re going. If you have an oddball fantasy, he’s okay with that. You don’t seem to be the type for any deal-breakers and he’s naturally relaxed enough that your babbling is just another cute feat to witness to him

Rantaro can tell this is leading to something and his heart is teetering over beating just a little harder than usual, especially when your voice drops to a lower sound and just more than a hush, ah, he truly is enamored with you

“So because we’ve been together for so long… I-I was wondering if…”

When you pause, there’s a short time of quiet and from the corner of your eye, you can see him looking at you with relaxed eyes. He’s unable to help but lean in and cradle you. Wrapping one arm snug around your lower back, and the other cupping your cheek. You feel the warmth of his hand so clearly there, and the scarlet hue dusted on his cheeks confirms his own spark of embarrassment, although Amami has a smoother way of handling it

“If I want to take a sensual step in our relationship?” He finishes for you, words hot against your neck before pecking it, softly brushing his lips against the sensitive skin. Rantaro finds himself adoring your next breath is a shaky one and that you’re prone to curling your hands into the fabric of his shirt. His familiar teasing smile is back on his face, more loving than you’re use to“

I’d love to, of course.” And he’s means it. If this is what you’ve been having in mind, then he’s elated you’re comfortable with him and that this is your ideal situation. Amami thought about it himself but never jumped at the chance to show it. He wanted you to tell him whenever you felt ready, but this was a too perfect way of finding out and he had to take the chance

When you wake up in the morning, he wants you to remember this night, even if it’s only a dream, Rantaro wants you to know that this is something he wants too. As he presses you gently against the bed, there’s no possibility that you couldn’t feel his burning desire for you as well

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nonopiimagines · 5 years

Text

gardenias alive

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Pairing: Hayner x Reader Warnings: graphic depictions of coughing up flowers; blood Word Count: 5713 Author Notes: A hanahaki au/soulmate au requested by anon. I started writing both, this one got done first.

---

It was easy to deny the feelings at first. He had never experienced them before. All he knew was that he wanted to be around you all the time. He would make up dumb excuses just to sit next to you at school or to have you meet him at the Usual Spot before Pence and Olette got there. You would always laugh and nod your head, giving him an “Okay, Hayner” in a teasing voice, like you already knew what his intentions were and you were just playing along until he finally understood what it really meant.

But he was just content to be around you.

It was enough. At the time.

Looking back, he could so easily pick out the turning point. You both had entered the Struggle Tournament and you had been practicing together for weeks at that point. You had spent so much time together that you knew every move he was going to make. He could’ve said the same for himself, but you were always a little bit quicker.

He remembered the way his heart jumped in his throat when you knocked him over, the struggle bat flying out of his hand. Your figure appeared above him, leaning over him as he laid there on the ground, your eyes staring into his. He recognized what he saw there, a mixture of fear and wonder. The announcer called out your name in his loud, booming voice but you didn’t move and he so badly in that moment wanted to congratulate you, hug you, kiss you so you didn’t have to look at him that way anymore.

“You beat me,” he hoped he said it as softly and gently as he imagined he did.

You nodded at him, a small smile appearing for a brief second on your face before you bit it away, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“Don’t just sit there,” maybe his voice wavered, but he didn’t want to believe it did. “You earned this.”

“Thanks, Hayner,” he only got to see your face for a moment more, before you were helping him off the ground to the cheers of the audience encircling the struggle ring. He thought he saw relief and a moment of bliss on your face, and he remembered the way his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He was so proud. If anyone was going to beat him, it deserved to be you.

When he went back to that moment, it always brought the flowers up. He felt the tickle of the petals in the back of his throat and as much as he was tired of letting it overcome him, tired of letting the coughs wrack his body, he had no control over this. His trash can was already full of white petals sprayed with flecks of red, he had now moved to a large bowl. It too had petals, but larger and larger bunches were coming up now.

His mom had come up earlier to check on him, her cool hand on his forehead, always saying, “They’re not full flowers yet, baby. There’s still time.”

He’d just grumble in response, but it gave him some peace of mind. There’s still time.

And he wasn’t planning on giving up yet. Today was the one year anniversary of that moment, the day of the annual Struggle Tournament. Pence and Olette agreed to take him there to watch. It may be the last time he ever gets to.

As he lay back down, with the floral taste in his mouth, he closed his eyes, trying not to think of you, but it always came back to you. Always. Always.

He wasn’t ready for the petals when they first came. He didn’t even know what was happening. He remembered it being the first week back at school. You both shared a lot of classes and he had honestly thought that this might be the one year of school that wasn’t going to be a drag the whole time.

The last bell rang for the day, you had told him you had to stop somewhere before going to the Usual Spot. He tried to catch up with you because maybe this one moment of being alone together in the thousands of moments of being alone together, would be the one where he finally told you how he was feeling. He thought about it too often. How he would want to grab your hands and hold them tightly, and look into your eyes as he said something too simple like, “Hey, I like you.” If it was so easy in his head, why could he never actually do it?

It was his biggest regret. He never admitted to having any regrets, but in reality, in the deepest, darkest pits of himself, he knew. He regretted never telling you.

Because when he finally caught up to you that day, rounding the corner, waiting for the tram to pass, he saw you. Standing with your back toward him, holding hands with Seifer, as you talked animatedly to him. Hayner stopped dead in his tracks. He thought he felt the familiar overwhelming sensation of his heart jumping into his throat, but it was something more sinister this time. A soft but uncomfortable sensation. His eyes welled up in pain as he held it back, making a dash for the Usual Spot where he sat and coughed relentlessly until one or two white petals spilled out of his throat, his chest finally able to breathe.

He didn’t think it was the fact that you were holding hands with Seifer that triggered it, it was the fact that you both looked so happy. The way he was looking at you, that was the way Hayner looked at you. He knew it because he felt it too. He was undeniably happy when you were around. But now, it was different.

And he remembered the next part so vividly because it hurt both of you in a way that couldn’t be fixed so easily. As he sat at the Usual Spot with his head in his hands, the only thing he could focus on was breathing. In and out. In and out.

He heard you approaching. He heard you set your bag down, your shoes crunching on the gravel that littered the floor, but he couldn’t look at you. He didn’t look at you. So you did the thing you probably felt was right. You put your hand on his back and leaned over to look at his face through his fingers.

“Are you okay, Hayner?”

Fuck. Of course he wasn’t okay. Your hand felt like fire, burning through two layers of cloth, into his skin, leaving a mark there that sunk into his core and ignited a fire in his lungs. He coughed briefly, jumping up from his chair, eager to get away from your touch.

“Don’t touch me,” his voice was just a croak before another cough bubbled up out of him, this time bringing a petal with it. He spit it out of his mouth, into the dirt. He rubbed at it with his shoe, eager to reduce the brilliant white petals into nothing. He wanted this to be nothing. He didn’t want to like you anymore.

But when he finally brought his eyes up to look at you, he knew that wasn’t true. Everything you were to him, you still were. Seifer couldn't tarnish it. Even if he tried. But it still hurt, it still ached, it wouldn’t stop. And your face was a reflection of that.

“Can I get you some water?” you asked again, taking a few tentative steps toward him.

But he backed away, toward the exit. “Of everyone, why him? Why does it have to be him?” He had to know. His voice felt stronger in that moment. He felt stronger. It was probably the last time he felt close to normal.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. The way your eyes lit up in realization and then your frown turned your face somber. You brought your hands up to rub at your arms as you looked away in uncertainty. “I don’t have an answer for you.”

And in that moment, Hayner didn't hesitate. He wanted you to hurt like he hurt. “Then don’t come back here. Don’t talk to me, Pence, or Olette ever again. You were never our friend.”

That was the last time he spoke to you. He stormed off after that, leaving you with tears streaming down your face, petals coming up his throat in wet, heavy coughs the entire way home. It only took his mom a few minutes to understand what was happening and explain it to him. Hanahaki.

“It’s only because your so passionate, Hay.” His mother, always the optimist. Even as she watched the days go by, her son slowly suffocating on love and flowers.

Now he lay in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. Some memories, some dreams, triggered the coughing fits. The memory of that day at the Usual Spot only filled him with regret, but it didn’t cause the flowers to tickle at his throat. In some ways it was worse. The regret would lull him to sleep and his brain would conjure up what-ifs. What if he had kissed you when you beat him in the Struggle Tournament? What if he told you his feelings right then and there? What if you burst through his bedroom door and sat with him, your hands holding his in your lap, your sad smile hoping he would get better, and maybe you would leave quietly with a kiss on his forehead? Those thoughts, those wishes, those hopes, they brought the flowers to bloom ever bigger. His coughs getting worse, more blood and mucus covering the delicate white petals as they erupted out of his throat, tears streaming down his face at the exertion.

After he was calm again, his mom would bring up tea with honey, as she was doing now.

“Lots of honey for my honey.” She presented him with a large mug, a tea bag string drifting around the handle.

“Thanks, mom.” The heat and honey felt soothing, though he knew it did little to quell the coughs.

She nodded, only letting the sadness and pain seep to the surface just briefly. For that he was grateful, he was grumpy enough for both of them.

“Olette and Pence are downstairs when you’re ready.” She put a hand on his blanket-covered leg for emphasis. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Yeah,” though his voice was gravelly and croaky, it was the most firm and confident it had been in awhile. He wanted her to know it would be okay and he proved it with a long slurp of tea.

She laughed as she got up to leave, giving him one last look over before leaving him alone in his bedroom. He took a few more sips of tea, trying to invigorate his body for the journey it was about to embark on. Showering and dressing was the easiest part. It was staring at his bedroom door that was the hardest. He left is room so little now, spending most of the day sleeping. He tried not to look over at the trash can filled with petals, some stray ones laying on the floor nearby. It was easier if he didn’t think too much. Just do, don’t think.

So he grasped the door handle and yanked it open. He padded softly down the carpet-covered stairs to the living room below, where Pence and Olette were waiting on the couch talking. They looked at him as he approached, looking hopeful but ultimately realizing the state of his sickness in the bags under his eyes and the sickly tone of his skin. He saw the brief flash of pity on their faces and decided to act. “Let’s go.”

He was out the front door before they could say anything. The last thing he wanted was pity. He wanted to think he had some control over what was happening to him, that this was partially his fault for choosing you. He didn’t want to be pitied for liking you. For wanting to be around you. For wanting to be happy. For wanting to feel.

But Pence and Olette caught up and stayed by his side the entire time. They talked about the match-ups and how it was looking to be you and Seifer in the final again. Pence pointed out that Sora entered this year too, so he might mix up the standings. Olette just scoffed and explained that Sora fighting with a Keyblade is different than wielding a struggle bat. Hayner vaguely listened as they talked, at least a little happy that they were trying to make things seem normal. Hearing your name brought a tickle to his throat, but he tried to cough as little as possible to make himself seem healthier than he really was. The last thing he wanted was Pence and Olette to drag him right back home before he even got to finish watching one struggle match.

When they finally arrived at the tournament, Hayner’s gaze immediately gravitated toward you practicing some swings with your bat up on the struggle stage. There was something in your eye that hadn’t been there before. A determination that ran deeper, something verging on revenge. Seifer was on the other end of the ring, talking to Fuu, Rai, and Vivi.

Hayner tried not to look for too long, already feeling a coughing fit come up his throat. He quickly grabbed a honey candy his mom had given him earlier and popped it into his mouth. She said it could help soothe his throat like the tea. It seemed to help a little as he coughed a few times into his hand, trying to catch the petals that were spilling out, his head throbbing from his inability to breathe. He tried not to dwell on the pain as the coughing subsided.

“First match of the day! Seifer versus the reigning champion, Y/N!” The announcer called from beside the stage. There were cheers from the crowd at the sound of your name, and he couldn’t help but smile, a familiar burn beginning in his lungs.

“Ready! Steady! Struggle!”

The memories bubbled up again, from when this all began. After you beat Hayner, after you stared into his eyes, after he didn’t kiss you, you were pitted against Seifer. You won against him too. He remembered you smiling as you accepted the trophy, how he and Pence and Olette came up to hug you and congratulate you. How you all bought sea-salt ice cream after the fanfare was over and how you sat on the clocktower in the twilight sky. You had sat closer to Hayner than usual, your knees occasionally brushing each other as you talked with Olette about having a sleepover that weekend. He kept staring and staring at the contact until he realized you were looking at him, your eyes wandering over his figure, a big smile plastered to your face.

“What are you looking at?” He tried to be nonchalant and flippant, but he was sure his face betrayed him in that moment.

“You. Hayner.” You poked him in the arm after each syllable, wanting him to understand but he wouldn’t until it was too late.

Instead, he just made a noise and looked away, trying to cover the blush heating up his cheeks. He didn’t understand then, but he understood now.

And as he watched you landing strike after strike on Seifer, backing him into a corner, a fire in your eyes that he had never seen before, he looked at you truly. This was the closest he had been to you in a long time. You were fast, you were strong, you were smart, you were beautiful, and you looked at him too. A momentary glance, your eyes flicked up to meet his and it was over. Seifer wasn’t beaten yet but it didn’t matter. The match was null when you jumped off the stage as Hayner was falling over, the honey candy falling out of his mouth as he coughed and coughed, on his hands and knees, his gasping breaths trying to bring air into his lungs but there wasn’t enough room amidst all the flowers. The bunches of petals fell uncontrollably from his mouth, sprayed in blood and mucus and saliva, looking beautiful and tainted but unbound. They were full gardenias now. And the last thing he felt were your hands on his shoulders as he fell further and further, the world going darker around him. You burned him inside and out.

---

He didn’t want to wake up. His mouth was bone dry, his chest felt heavier than ever before, and he was cold for the first time in a long time. He refused to open his eyes, he knew where he was but acknowledging it meant that it was all downhill from here. It meant that the end was approaching. The flowers would kill him soon.

And it wasn’t fair.

If he could love life more than he loved you, would it be over? Could he get up and walk out of here? Go back to the Usual Spot like nothing had happened? Pence and Olette there to greet him like they had before, no flashes of pity crossing their faces when they thought he wasn’t paying attention?

But what would happen when he saw you? Would he feel nothing? Would he carry on like you never meant a thing to him? Like you never spent all summer training together, laughing together, <i>being</i> together? Like you never made him feel so differently than he had with anyone else? And what would you do? Drift away and forget everything? Carry on with your life and never see Hayner as anyone more than just a stranger that maybe you had known in a different time?

His eyes shot open and he was coughing again. Disoriented and confused, he sat up holding his arm to his mouth as the coughing continued, his other hand looking for a bowl, a bucket, something to hold the petals that were beginning to spill out.

In a split second, his mom came rushing into the room with a nurse following behind her. Her soothing hands were at his back in an instant, rubbing circles, encouraging him to get it all out. “Just breathe, baby,” she whispered, a familiar mantra that she had learned early on in his sickness, but it was calming all the same.

The nurse eventually pushed a plastic bin into his lap, where he coughed up the remaining petals and full flowers, though there were still plenty scattered on the bed now. He didn’t want to look at them as he handed the bin back to the nurse. He didn’t want to see how much of his body covered those flowers, how it was trying to fight back but ultimately failing. As his head started throbbing from the exertion and lack of oxygen, he let his body fall back into the bed, his eyes closing, trying to focus on his breathing. In and out. In and out. Don’t focus on the heavy, wet feeling that plagued his lungs. In and out. In and out. Just breathe.

“Have a drink, Hay.” His mom’s hand was already back in his, holding it tight. Anchoring him there.

He opened his eyes again, the nurse holding out a cup with a lid and straw near his face. He grumbled, bringing up his free hand to grab the cup from the nurse instead of him feeding it to him like a child. The water did little to soothe his aching throat, but his mouth felt less dry, allowing him to lick his chapped lips to try to rehydrate them too.

“It’s good to see you up.”

He glanced briefly at his mom as he was setting his empty cup on the bedside table. She looked like she wanted to say more, but was holding back.

“It’s good to be up,” he croaked out, his voice had never sounded this bad before. Perhaps it was because his body knew it was a lie. At this point, this was all that was left for him. Sleeping and coughing. And if he had to choose, he knew which it would be.

It was silent again for a few moments as Hayner watched his nurse take his vitals and fill out paperwork before attaching it back to the end of the bed. He wondered what it said about him. Disease is progressing at a normal rate. Flowers are full-sized, flecked with blood and mucus. Paroxysmal coughing lasted for three minutes before tapering off. Fluids are normal. Oxygen absorption at 95% with assistance. It sounded legitimate in his head.

When the nurse left, his mom sighed and shifted in her chair. Hayner knew she was getting ready to say something that bothered her. He turned his head in preparation, wanting her to feel like he was unafraid so she didn’t have to worry so much, so she could speak freely. He would do anything for her, even if it hurt him in the process.

“Do you remember what happened before you passed out?” She was sliding her thumb against his palm as she asked it, rubbing away the tension.

“I don’t want to.” Maybe he said it too quickly, because her eyes hardened, as if she were going to scold him. So he changed his answer. “I don’t need to.”

“Okay, then we’ll talk about what happened after.”

“I don’t think I need to hear that either, mom.”

He tried to look away, to end the conversation, to prevent the memories from causing another coughing fit, but she held his gaze and squeezed his hand in a way that scared him.

But her voice was clear and even. “I think it will help you, Hayner.”

He was beyond the point of help. But the way her eyes were shining, made him pause. He trusted his mom more than anything, why would this time be any different? So he nodded.

“When I first got here, there were three people in the room with you. Olette, Pence, and someone else. Someone I didn’t recognize.”

Hayner’s heart stopped. He was forced to remember the way Pence and Olette stood behind him, the comfort he felt at having them there at the Struggle Tournament with him. He was forced to remember the way he felt when the flowers started pushing their way up and out of him, the way he couldn’t breathe, the way he fell to the ground gasping for air, wishing he could be anywhere else. And he forced himself to remember the last piece of consciousness he had: the way you had jumped off the stage, the way you held onto his shoulders, the way your eyes looked so scared and sad, and how badly he just wanted to be alone with you in that moment. He would die happy, in that way.

And he clutched his mom’s hand, waiting for the coughs to erupt out of his body, for the flowers to make their painful, beautiful appearance, but they didn’t. He could feel the hesitation in his body, both him and his disease waiting for the next piece of the puzzle to reveal itself.

“Y/N?” He felt the taste of hope on his tongue, being able to say your name aloud for the first time in a long time.

“Y/N.” His mom confirmed with a slow nod, keeping her eyes trained on her son. “And Y/N came back every day asking about you. Wanting to see you.”

He was frozen, not knowing what to do or say. He was unafraid to return to his memories now, even the painful ones. He left you that day after saying those hurtful things to you, after seeing you with Seifer, after feeling his heart twist in his chest in frustration and disappointment that he couldn’t understand at the time. But you still cared. You still came back to see him. Every. Day. All he could do was look at his mom and wait for her next words.

“Is Y/N… <i>the</i> person?” Maybe she didn’t put it so eloquently, but he understood what she was asking.

“Yes.” He wasn’t afraid to say it. There was only one person he wouldn’t freely admit it to.

“Do you love Y/N?”

To that, Hayner rolled his eyes and gave her a hoarse chuckle. “Look at me, mom.”

“I know, I know.” She was smiling now, really smiling. And Hayner couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Y/N is here, out in the waiting room. If you’re ready.”

Was he ready? He probably looked like shit. His breath probably stank from how dry his mouth was. He might fall asleep in the middle of their conversation because of how tired he felt. But he had nothing left to lose. Just seeing you and being around you might make things clearer.

So he nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

His mom gave his hand one last squeeze before she left the room to go fetch you. Hayner suddenly felt very aware of the IV needle in his arm, the breathing tube attached to his nose, and the weird open-back hospital gown he was wearing. He felt a lot less confident and a lot more vulnerable than he did a few moments ago. But this was bound to be a conversation that he could never be prepared for, he would have to accept that.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” There you were with a smile on your face, softly closing the door behind you. He watched you unabashedly as you walked around the room, assessing the bland art on the hospital walls and the dismal amount of sunlight seeping in from the one window in the room. When you finally took a seat on the chair next to the bed, you met his gaze fully for the first time in a long time. “What’s with that dopey smile on your face, Hayner?”

“I’m just… happy,” he immediately looked up at the ceiling, to hide his blush before he finished his thought. “Happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too.”

You took his hand in yours and he swore he felt his chest lighten just a little, his throat only feeling sore but the tickle that normally accompanied a coughing fit wasn’t there. The thought flashed across his mind that maybe pushing you away was the worst thing he could’ve done. Just having you there seemed to soothe the flowers from blooming in his chest.

“Hayner, when I saw you pass out, I was really scared.” He could feel you looking at him but he was afraid to turn his head. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to see fear or pity in your eyes. The last thing he wanted from you was obligation. He didn’t want to force you to be here because you felt bad, because you felt you had to.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” was all he could think to say, to stop you from sacrificing yourself for him. He wasn’t a charity case. He was ready to shutdown. To turn around and tell you to get out. He could feel the flowers moving again, the tickle threatening to rip his mouth open and cough until he produced a bouquet that he could throw at your feet.

“Fine, but can you at least look at me?” you pleaded, leaning over to put your hand on his cheek, gently nudging him to face you.

He relented, knowing what he expected to see but not finding it there in your eyes. He wasn’t sure what you were going to say next, so he held his coughs back as best he could, sure he was going to pay the price later.

You held his face for a moment, your eyes moving and studying him until you decided to speak. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day that at the Usual Spot.”

“Look, I’m sor--” Hayner began to say, ready to apologize and explain his actions but you wouldn’t let him.

“Shut up. Let me talk.” You paused for emphasis, hand still on his cheek, warmth seeping through them into his cold, clammy skin. Your words weren’t as forceful as they sounded. “I kept thinking and thinking about you. About us. I think I was always waiting for you, Hayner.”

Waiting for him? Waiting for what? You paused again, moving from the chair to sit on the side of the bed, closer to him, so you could drag your hand through his hair and settle on his neck. Maybe it was his exhaustion or maybe it was the fact that he had never been so close to you before and feeling you touch him, comfort him, it was overwhelming. His desire to cough was replaced with the feeling of his heart jumping out of his chest but he didn’t want to break whatever chain reaction was occurring, so he laid there, as still as possible, hoping that you would continue.

“But that’s the thing with waiting. You don’t always get what you’re waiting for. And sometimes distractions come by and they make you think that the waiting’s over, but you always come back. You were always waiting for a reason, whether you knew it or not. I was waiting for a reason, whether I knew it or not.” You paused again, looking toward the ceiling, finding the right words as Hayner waited silently, watching you, completely enamored by what you were saying because at the end of it would be the real answer. “But then I realized that I don’t have to wait. I don’t have to wait for you, Hayner. I can just come get you on my own. And it only took you passing out in front of me for me to realize that.”

You laughed at the last part of your sentence but Hayner was still too focused on the meaning. He clutched your hand tightly, wanting you to just say the words straight out in front of him. No more of this metaphor bullshit. Say it plainly so this can be over, whatever the outcome may be.

“What are you saying?” he croaked out, wondering if you would understand everything he was trying to ask in this one question.

You just smiled fondly in return and took a deep breath. “I like you, Hayner. Do you like me?”

All at once it hit him. It was the last thing he expected to happen in a moment like this. All he wanted to do was say one word. But he was overcome with coughing as soon as he opened his mouth. It was more painful than he had ever felt before, his throat constricting around the multitude of petals and flowers trying to break towards the surface of his body. Was it too late for him?

He vaguely registered you saying words to him, your hand still clutching his but your weight wasn’t on the bed anymore. His head throbbed violently as he kept coughing and coughing, but nothing was coming out of him, but he could feel it at the back of his throat, maybe stuck, maybe waiting for the end. His eyes could only show him a blurry world where he could only guess that his mom had rushed toward the bed beside you, the weight of her hand covering both yours and his. Two other blurred figures moved around on the other side of the bed, maybe a doctor and a nurse. Why weren’t they helping him? Why did it seem like everything was at a standstill around him while these terrible flowers held his life in the balance?

Hayner decided he couldn’t wait for them. Maybe that’s what you were talking about the whole time. Solve your own problems. Go towards your own solution. Don’t let other people decide your fate. So he waited for a small break between the coughs wracking his body and he reached with his free hand into his mouth, his fingertips brushing the soft, moist petals before gripping their woody base and pulling. He had never felt more scared in his life as his throat convulsed, trying to accommodate the intrusion while he slowly, carefully pulled the flower from his mouth followed by the wooden stem, another smaller flower, and a few deep green leaves. It felt agonizing. It felt like an eternity. The flowers were pillowy and light, but the stem and leaves left scratches in their wake. He didn’t know if the taste of blood was from his mouth or from the usual smattering that accompanied the flowers.

But when he was finally done and he held the sturdy stem in his hands, the flowers and leaves shining wet with mucus and spit, he fell back on his pillow and gasped for breath. There was no weight in his chest anymore. There was no heaviness, no wetness to his breaths. He could breathe even and deep and the only thing that ached inside him was his throat and his mouth and the desire to look over and see your face again.

Though his head still throbbed and his vision was still a little blurry, he turned his head to see you and his mom, hands still holding his, standing so close together, both smiling at each other and at him. He felt so relieved and so incredibly lucky in this moment.

Somewhere in the room, the doctor and nurse were speaking to his mom, who nodded enthusiastically to what they were saying. But all he could focus on was you standing there, looking at him with a sweet smile that glowed like nothing he had seen before.

Slowly, you leaned down to wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “It’s over, Hayner. It’s over.”

And though he felt exhausted and thoroughly beaten down, he gathered the last of his strength to hug you back.

#kingdom hearts fan fiction #kingdom hearts imagines #kingdom hearts reader inserts #fan fiction #imagines #reader inserts #requests #gender neutral reader #haynerxreader #nonopi new fics

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headoverjojo · 5 years

Note

May I request some nsfw of melone and his s/o who is afraid of having kids but he talks her out of it?

Hello there, dear anon!

Melone week Melone week Melone weeeeeek

I wanted to publish yesterday right for Melone day but my headache striked back aaaaand nothing. But here I am, finally!

(Under the cut for NSFW!)

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your galopping heart.You watched your reflection, trying to find the courage you needed to talk toyour boyfriend, Melone, who was about to come home.

This was one of the most important decision in all your lifeand it took you a lot of time to finally ease your mind. You softly brushedyour belly, trying to imagine it round and full of your and Melone’s baby. Yousighed, remembering your childhood friend, who just had a baby. She seemed sohappy, while she was holding her baby to her chest. Her smile was ecstatic andher eyes shone with a new light. She was so, so scared, you remembered it well,but, in the end, she was happy. Maybe… maybe having a child was worth of allthe fear and the pain of labour, so?

Melone talked a lot about children. He wasn’t going tooblige you to have a child, of course, he loved you too much to do somethinglike this, but it was obvious that he really wanted to have one. He talkedabout the various phases of pregnancy, almost moved when he spoke about thetime when the baby start to move. You had seen him with Baby Face’s children,you knew that, even if he had to teach them in a twisted way, due to theirpurpose, he was good with children. You couldn’t keep out of your mind theimage of him holding a toddler, cooing at him with a happy and watery smileand, maybe, the eventual pain would be worth of it. What if, however, somethingwould have gone wrong? What if your body wasn’t suited to have a baby insideitself? What if your body just rejected the baby? What if-

You firmly shook your head, blocking your mind before itwent too far. Melone always praised you for how healthy you were, so you weresure that your body could handle a pregnancy. And labour was actually safer andsafer, so the probabilities to lost the baby during it, or even to die, werevery low. It was just your fear speaking, you knew that. But… you wanted to doit. You wanted to enjoy the experience of being mother. You wanted to do it forMelone, yes… but mostly for yourself. Melone always said that it was a decisionthat you had to take thinking not about him, but about yourself and what youreally wanted. And now, finally, you had choosen.

You snapped, hearing a click on the doorknob, followed byMelone’s joyous “I’m home, amore!”. You took another deep breath, steelingyour nerves. It was time.

You got up, patting barefoot to the dining room, whereMelone had just put the groceries down. He lifted his head, with a smile thatfroze when he saw your deadly serious expression.

“Amore? What… what is going on? What happened?” heimmediately asked, dashing to you. His sickly worried eyes clenched your gutand you almost sobbed, overwhalmed by the immensity of your decision and hissincere feelings.

You shushed him, taking his face in your hands and kissinghim, deeply, almost desperately. He stumbled, grabbing your shoulders,surprised and still worried, still wondering what was going on.

“I… I want to have a baby, Melone. I want us to be afamily.” You finally revealed, breaking the kiss. His eyes widened and heopened his mouth, without speaking. His eyes became glossy with tears and hefinally moved, hugging you tightly, with a happy sob.

“Thank you, thank you…” he chanted, in breathy brokenwhispers, his face buried in your neck. You softly rubbed the back of his neck,sniffling with a little smile, enjoying his warmth. The stress you felt wasstarting to finally go away, leaving you lighter and more certain about yourdecision.

“Also I… I’m ovulating, so it could be the best trying now?”you shily proposed, ending his murmurs. He lifted his head up, staring deeplyin your eyes, caressing your cheeks.

“Are you really sure about all of this, right? And… andyou’re not doing this just because I want a child, are you?” he asked, with aserious tone. You shook your head, smiling warmly at his high consideration ofyour desires.

“I’m really really sure, honey, and no, I’m not doing itjust for you. I… I want to be a mom. I though long and now I’m sure about it. Iwant to be a mom. And I want to make you a dad.” You proclaimed, firm and sure.

He sighed, relieved, and, when he watched you again, a slysmile that gave you tingles was spread on his mouth.

“So… you said you’re ovulating, uh?” he whispered on yourearshell, making you shiver. He nibbled it softly, untying his mask and blindlyputting it aside.

“It’d be a pity to waste so many precious ovules, don’t youthink?” he let his hands roam on your body, covered just by a silk dressinggown, and you clung to his shoulders, moving his hair aside, to watch his face.

“I really hope that the baby looks like you, mio tesoro.”You whispered, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, deeply and hungrily.Melone kissed you back with same passion and desire, lifting you up andgrowling low when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He carried you in your bedroom, licking and nibbling yourneck, relishing in your soft moans and shivers. He gently spread you on thebed, sinuously crawling on you, beautiful and dangerous like a leopard. Yourbody was already on fire and he hadn’t even undressed you yet.

“You’re so sweet, honey, your skin has such a good taste…”he murmured, kissing devotely your collarbone, slowly sliding off your silkgown, to have more room to lavish you with kisses.

When he finally got up on his knees to watch you undressed,his eyes widened, burning of lust and hunger.

“Oh, you really had _intentions_, my naughty kitty…” hepurred, admiring your body enveloped in purple lingerie. You smiled, a faintblush on your cheeks, boldly yanking him by the crotch of his indecentjumpsuit, that was getting tighter and tighter.

“Like what you’re seeing, big boy?” his smile grew and hishand brushed lazily your navel, leaving behind it a track of gosebumps. Helicked his lips, enchanted, yanking the elastic of your high tighs. You gasped,when it went back with a loud snap. It resonated in all your body, making yourub yur tighs together. He chuckled huskily, bending again to capture your lipsin a sweet and deep kiss that made your toes curl.

“Oh, you’ll be even more beautiful, amore, a goddess amongmortals…” he praised, going down on your breasts, lightly nibbling and lickingtheir soft exposed flesh, marring them with red marks that signaled that youwere his, his lover, his goddess, his life reason. You arched your back,pushing your breasts against his face and he doubled his ministrations,skillfully unclasping your bra and freeing them. He latched to your hardeningnipple, swirling his tongue around it, smiling at your uncontrollated moans.

He switched breast, still tormenting your nipple with hisfingers, pinching and rolling it with his thumb, lightly squeezing your breast.The thought of them full of milk for your baby was driving him mad and he bit alittle harder, making you yelp, both for pleasure and pain.

“Time to check if you’re ready, don’t you think?” hemurmured, with a devious smile, giving you another kiss. He licked your lips,admiring your eyes half-closed and clouded with lust, before going down,following a path of kisses and little bites. He stopped a bit on your belly,lovingly nuzzling his face in it, lavishing it with kisses and murmuring how hecouldn’t wait to see it full of his baby, of your baby.

“Look at you, my love, already so wet and ready… davvero molto bene.” He praised, blowing on your sex still covered by purple lace panties.You whined, trying to rub your tighs, in vain, since he was keeping them spreadwith a gentle but firm grip. He smiled again, putting a kiss on it, making yousee stars.

Seeing you so needy and desperate, he decided to give you atleast a bit of relief. He lowered your panties, letting them fall somewhere, hedidn’t care. The only thing he cared about was you and your glistening wetness.

You jolted, feeling his tongue on you, biting your lips tonot moan aloud. You squirmed, closing your eyes in desperate needing, sinkingyour hand in his hair, to keeping him on your sex. His skillful tongue twirledmasterfully around your clit, mumbling in approvation at your more and moreevident arousal. You jerked when you felt his evil tongue inside of you andyour grip on his hair got tighter and tighter the more you neared your release.

“No, mio amore, not yet…” he murmured, leaving a last kisson your dripping sex, before getting up on his knees again. You whined loudlyin protest, snapping your eyes open, but you gulped, whe you saw himundressing. You instinctively extend an hand to touch his firm chest and heslightly bend to let you do so, chuckling warmly and keeping your hand on his fast-beatingheart.

“We’re going to be parents, sweetheart.” You murmured,smiling fondly with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. Melone grinned back,leaning on you and giving you another kiss, while giving himself a couple ofstrokes. He aligned himself to your entrance, breathing deeply.

“Now relax, honey.” He murmured, finally entering in you.You arched your back, spreading more your legs to welcome him better. Yourinner walls clenched around him, as to keep him inside of you forever.

He pressed his forehead on your shoulder, panting, feelingyour heart beating fast against his chest. You trembled, unclosing a bit youreyes and enveloping his shoulder in a light hug. You thrusted your hips againsthis, to make him move, and he catched your message. Melone smiled against yourshoulder, propping up a bit on his arms and starting to move, first gently, tosavour your sweet tightness and breathy gasps, then rougher and rougher,gritting his teeth at the waves of pleasure that were running over him. He groaned,when you sank your nails in his back, and his path increased, almost erratic.You couldn’t keep your moans low, not when he was hitting so deliciously allyour sweet spots, not when his mouth was leaving bites on your neck.

“Come for me, kitty.” He ordered, panting. His husky andlustful voice was the last straw: you impossibly arched your back, a silent cryon your lips. Behind your shutted eyelids you saw spots of light and youjerked, feeling overwhalmed by the warm and electric pleasure that rose fromyour low abdomen and was spreading in all your body.

Melone deeply groaned, capturing your lips in a deep andsloppy kiss, lifting your hips up and thrusting few times more, before buryinghimself deep in you, squeezing the soft flesh of your tighs so hard to leavebruises for sure. Your inner walls milked him ‘till the last drop and he moanedlow, feeling your walls’ mininstrations around his lenght. He kept himself in you,in order to not let slip out not even a drop, and your hips slightly lifted up,even if he was still trembling from his own pleasure.

After a minute or two, he gently let your legs rest on thematress, rolling at your side, still panting. You smiled dazedly, turning yourhead to watch your man. He lazily smiled at you, interweaving his fingers withyours and lovingly kissing your knuckles. You lightly chuckled, when his freefingers skimmed your belly.

“Not bad for a first try, no?” you asked, feeling nicelysleepy. Melone nodded, giving a peck on your cheek.

“Absolutely, honey. In fact, it went molto bene.” Hepraised, enveloping you in a warm hug, caressing your arm and letting you layon his chest. You smiled, more than happy to have chosen to give yourself thepossibility of being a mother.

Even if you wouldn’t get pregnant that night, your wouldhave tried again and again. Now you were sure about what you wanted: a familywith your Melone.

#jjba #vento aureo #la squadra di esecuzione #melone #fem s/o #pregnancy topic #sin writings #scenario #anon ask

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tnffc · 5 years

Note

Hi, how are you? Could I ask for a continuation of his older brother? And also a steter fic set during/after the wild hunt? Thank you 🥰

Hello anon :)

I considered doing both originally but then the continuation of HOB grew bigger and bigger and eventually I decided it’ll be just the one. I hope you’ll enjoy it :)

______________________________

His Best Friend

Derek heard Peter and Stiles come back to the Hale house from their trip to help Stiles’ dad paint his kitchen while he was storing away groceries in their kitchen.

After roughly two decades of the same colors the Sheriff had decided it was time for some changes. Stiles seemed to think that was a good idea and had come into town to help his dad and use that opportunity to spent time with Peter and Derek.

Now after they had finished the kitchen the plan was to relax a little and later have a nice dinner together.

Stiles gave Peter a soft kiss and grinned “I’ll go take a shower, feel like saving water?”

Peter chuckled and pulled Stiles in for another quick kiss.

“Sounds tempting but I promised Derek to help him track down the goblin nest.”

Stiles nodded with more seriousness.

“Yes, right, that’s important. I mean, gladly nobody got hurt so far, but still, those fuckers can get dangerous when they overpopulate.”

Peter nodded and gave Stiles a playful slap on the ass.

“Go get clean, we probably won’t need that long.”

Stiles chuckled and made his way upstairs while Peter went into the kitchen to discuss their plan.

~*~

Derek and Peter were walking side by side, following the trail three or four goblins had left behind.

After a while Derek cleared his throat.

“So…you and Stiles…I can’t really ignore the fact he is the longest relationship you have had in a while…maybe ever. I mean, five months…that…that’s something, right?”

Peter kept his eyes on the forest floor and the surrounding underbrush.

“It’s not a relationship. And I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Derek frowned but pointed out a broken off twig, to which Peter gave him a short nod and they moved in that direction.

The most frustrating thing about goblins really was the fact they just smelled like forest. And they also tended to live in forests. So in their natural habitat it was difficult to follow them by scent, even with a sensitive nose.

So, regular tracking it was.

At least the wolf’s predator instincts meant it was somewhat entertaining to try and hunt them down.

They got a little further and then Derek decided he could not leave the topic yet.

“So, does Stiles know you don’t consider whatever you two are doing a ‘relationship’? And why exactly don’t you want to talk about it right now? Is he starting to bore you and you are planning the overdue breakup?”

This time Peter glared at his brother.

“Listen, let’s get rid of those goblins and talk later, alright?”

Derek pressed his lips together for a moment and furrowed his brows but then nodded, seemingly resigned to the fact Peter was not going to give him an actual answer right now.

They tracked the goblins down and Peter made short work of them, biting, and clawing at them viciously, ignoring the sharp little teeth they tried to sink into his flesh.

Derek mainly made sure to catch those that managed to escape the masacre Peter was creating.

When all was done they stood amidst little, vaguely humanoid corpses strewn across the forest floor around the burrow they had chosen as their nest.

Derek could still smell the decomposing corpses of the foxes which probably had built that burrow and lived in it before the goblins had decided it was theirs.

“I wish goblins were the kind of supernatural creatures that turn into dust when killed…” he mumbled.

Peter nodded “It’d be a lot easier if all corpses took care of themself.”

But since these didn’t they started tidying up the mess.

~*~

On their way back they were walking in silence for quite a while.

It didn’t take a genius to understand Peter had some sort of problem with how things were between him and Stiles. But Derek had not seen any of that in Peter’s behavior with Stiles himself, so clearly Peter felt the need to keep it hidden.

That wasn’t really who Peter was though.

Yes, he was manipulative sometimes and did not always tell the whole truth if it benefitted him, he also was a genius at twisting words to the point where he could tell you one thing factually and something entirely different emotionally.

But Peter was not in the business of deceiving his bedmates.

All that worried Derek. He had known from the beginning this situation could easily blow up into their faces, considering how aversed to commitment and a serious relationship his brother was. And considering how fixated Stiles could get on a person if they actually measured up to his standards.

He’d never forget all the times Stiles had tried to perfect his ten year plan to get Lydia Martin to fall in love with him…

The relief Derek had felt when Stiles had gotten over Lydia and actually become friends with her. He didn’t like to see his best friend unhappily in love.

Suddenly Peter’s voice pulled Derek out of his concerned contemplations.

“It’s Stiles who keeps reminding me this isn’t a relationship by the way. And I am absolutely not about to break up with him.”

Derek stopped in his tracks.

“What do you mean?”

Peter stopped as well but didn’t turn around to look at Derek.

“Every moment I spent with Stiles I’m on the brink of telling him I love him Derek. I understand you are worried I might break your best friend’s heart, but you really don’t have to be. As long as Stiles feels like keeping me around, even if it’s just for sex, I will not do anything to lose him.”

Derek stared at Peter’s back, the posture, it was resigned, just looking at those sagging shoulders made him feel almost heartbroken.

“That…is definitely not what I expected.”

He got a dry laugh in response.

“Me neither. But he got me. That first night really. After we were done we lay in bed talking till morning and all I could think was that I had never felt so much myself and so happy at the same time. And at that point I had thought that was maybe just the excitement of a new person that I really liked and it would get less intense once I got used to him…but I was so wrong. After that second night I wanted to declare my undying love for him and I was ready to check myself into a mental hospital because of how ridiculous that sounded in my own head.

When Stiles left that weekend I felt like he had taken a vital part of me with him.

I forced myself to not overdo it with texting him, but my work was suffering from how much I only wanted to be on the phone with Stiles.

Then the weeks went by and it got more bearable, I convinced myself it had just been a weird, crazy, intense honeymoon feeling and now I was over it and things would go back to normal.

But then he came to visit when his father was celebrating his birthday and spent the night here and everything was back just as before if not worse. That time when he left I straight up felt like crying. No, if I am being totally honest, I did cry, a little.”

Peter turned partly and glanced up at Derek, who was not very surprised to see how angry Peter was.

“Do you know how frustrating that was? How humiliating? A part of me actually started to resent Stiles for making me feel like that. I have fought all my life to be independent and this little asshole comes in and suddenly it’s like I am wearing a leash that is constantly pulled into his direction.”

Derek had no idea what to say. The way he felt for Braeden was nothing like that. He definitely loved her, but he had always liked the feeling of belonging to her…

Peter continued his rant though, getting more and more dramatic.

Derek would not have been surprised if Peter had pulled at his deep v-neck and started a broadway worthy rendition of ‘Agony’.

It was close.

“I love having him here with me, but it’s so painful. I am holding him in my arms and while I am doing that I feel sad because I know he will leave again. That is just ridiculous.

I get hit on by people I would otherwise immediately say yes to but all I can think of is that I’d rather be with Stiles.

I actually fucked a guy to get my mind off Stiles and it didn’t work. It felt like eating cardboard when you want steak.

I am scared, okay?

All of this is scary. Because Stiles sometimes casually reminds me we are not together. He tells me about the people he goes out with, asks me if I met anybody interesting…he calls me a friend when he tells others who I am. A woman hit on me yesterday and he told me if I wanted to get on that we could meet back up at the house later.

And I don’t blame him.

When I was in college, when I was his age I took every offer I liked, I was probably a lot sluttier actually. And considering how much Stiles and I have in common, considering how many sexual partners I burned through back then it’s only a matter of maybe one or two more months before Stiles will be bored of me and move on.

Meanwhile I really don’t know if I can recover when that happens.

I have never felt like this.

I don’t know what to do…and the last thing I want to do is burden Stiles with that.

I have no right to put that on him after he entered into this under the assumption it’d just be some casual sex and nothing more…”

Derek felt a headache approaching.

He had warned Stiles to be careful when it comes to Peter…he had never considered Peter could be the one who got his heart broken in this situation.

Then again, a no strings attached, months long, sexual relationship didn’t sound like his friend either. Sure, Stiles wasn’t necessarily opposed to one night stands or short, passionate flings from what Derek had heard over the last three years from his time in college, but when Derek saw the two together they seemed genuinely happy in each other’s company.

Maybe Stiles was more reminding himself than Peter that they weren’t in an actual relationship?

He felt like he needed to get the other side of the story here.

“I don’t really know what to say to this Peter. In some way I am glad you found someone you feel like that towards. Even if he might not feel the same…but obviously I would hope he does. And you might think you two are very similar, which is true when it comes to how intelligent, cunning, witty and funny you are. But I wouldn’t be too sure Stiles feels nothing for you. Maybe you should just talk to him.”

Peter raised his lips slightly in a snarl.

“Seriously Derek? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost: Than never to have loved at all’? I hate feeling like this! I hate being so damn vulnerable. You might be glad for me but I am absolutely not! I liked being an unattached asshole. I can’t afford that kind of weakness in my life. What if someone uses this against me?”

Of course if anybody was going to be dramatic about this it was Peter.

“You are a lawyer, not a mobster. And neither you nor Stiles are mere humans. You have seen him spar with me and Laura, he can defend himself.”

He looked at Peter and recognized something very raw in the expression he had.

His brother really seemed scared.

Derek focused on Peter’s heart, breathed in a little deeper and found his thought confirmed.

His brother wasn’t the kind to get scared easily, so he wasn’t used to it.

That was probably a big part of why he was lashing out.

Peter needed to have everything under his control to feel okay. It made sense this would cause him great stress.

“I will ask Stiles how he feels about you.”

Peter went pale “No.”

Derek shook his head.

“Don’t try to convince me I shouldn’t ask my best friend how he feels about my brother. Whatever you fear might happen I promise you, it won’t happen simply because me and Stiles had a chat about his feelings.”

After opening his mouth twice without saying anything Peter closed it again and looked away.

“When did you get that good at arguing…”

Derek chuckled while reassuming their way home, pushing Peter along with him.

“Guess some of you and Stiles bickering with me stuck. Come on, I’m starving.”

~*~

Dinner was good and Derek realized what a great actor Peter was. Not once did his facade crack while Stiles was around him.

He would have thought Peter had lied to him if he hadn’t smelled the fear, heard Peter’s heart rate back in the woods.

Somehow Peter controlled both of those as well.

Derek knew some werewolves practiced that, particularly those who might work in intelligence in some form or another…but he should have known Peter would have practiced it as well. He just hadn’t witnessed Peter using that ability first hand before.

After dinner Derek decided it was time to investigate this situation some more.

“Hey Stiles, I wanted to show you something, it’s in my room.”

He got a raised eyebrow but Stiles followed him.

Up in his room with Stiles Derek closed the door and pointed onto the bed while he himself sat down in his desk chair.

“Sit down.”

Stiles crossed his arms.

“What is this going to be Der? A therapy session?”

Derek rolled his eyes “Just sit down.”

With an expectant expression Stiles sat down and moved his hands in a sarcastic ta-daa gesture.

“Thank you” Derek said with seriousness before explaining the situation.

“I wanted to talk about your relationship with Peter.”

“Oh fuck no!” Stiles hissed at him and got up again to head towards the door.

Derek got up as well and placed one hand heavy but not painful on Stiles’ shoulder.

“I did not ask you to come up here to have an ‘I told you so’ moment Stiles. I genuinely want to know how you two are doing. Because I care about both of you and I want you to be happy. After all, you are my best friend and he is my brother.”

Stiles seemed to lose some tension and came back to sit on the bed.

“I understand but there isn’t much to say.”

Derek was not convinced, not even a little.

“And what was that knee jerk reaction about then?”

Stiles looked at Derek’s rock collection and shrugged.

“I mean…if we really have to get into it I guess you were kind of right. I like Peter a lot. Probably actually a lot more than he likes me.”

Derek doubted that somehow.

He didn’t say that though and instead asked the relevant question.

“Would you go so far as to say you love him?”

Stiles frowned.

“Why are you doing this Derek? It’s not really like you to push emotional conversations…”

That was true in general, but he was learning a lot about communicating his feelings and Stiles’ and Peter’s wellbeing was definitely a topic that he would not drop just like that.

“Humor me. Like I said. You two are my brother and my best friend. I care about both of you, despite my tendency, this is me, initiating an emotional conversation. Now would you please answer my question.”

Stiles stared at him for a few moments.

“Well…yeah? I guess…I don’t know dude…Peter makes me happy. Like stupid happy. But I know it won’t last. I’m not delusional about what I can expect from this relationship.”

That was not quite clear enough for him.

“I know this will be a strange question and maybe thinking about it is a little painful, but what is the most outrageous idea you have about how your and Peter’s future could go?”

Heat krept up Stiles’ cheeks.

“Are you really asking me if I fantasize about getting serious with Peter? I can’t, ok? I can’t think about Peter making me his mate. About marrying him… you are lucky I know you aren’t the kind of person to mock me, but you better explain why you are suddenly asking me all these questions.”

Derek contemplated if these words were enough. It sure did sound like Stiles was fantasizing about exactly that. He stared at his best friend for a few moments, watching him glare back, clearly still waiting for an explanation.

Yes, Derek decided, this was enough.

Theoretically maybe Stiles’ answer could mean something else but evading to outright answer something, throwing a counter question at Derek, it was so typically Stiles.

“You actually love him, huh?” he asked, calm and matter of factly.

Stiles’ face was red with both embarrassment and anger.

“You’re a fucking asshole…” he mumbled.

Derek smiled softly despite Stiles’ words.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

He turned and left the room while he heard Stiles, in a perplexed tone, ask where he was going.

Derek went to find Peter and when he did he simply lifted his brother off the ground and threw him over his shoulder.

At first too surprised to say anything Peter cleared his throat “Uh…Derek, if this is supposed to be revenge for all the times I just picked you up, it won’t really work-”

“It’s not about that” Derek interrupted but didn’t elaborate.

He felt Peter twist a bit to see where exactly they were going but decided not to give him any clues to figuring out his plan sooner than he would on his own.

He actually made it three steps into his room with Stiles still standing there murmuring a dumbfounded “What the fuck” before Peter seriously tensed up.

“Oh no! You don’t get to do that Derek!”

Oh yes he did.

Peter started to seriously fight Derek’s hold on him and Derek decided he had accomplished what he needed, they were both in the room.

He threw Peter a good few meters into the room, past Stiles, and then utilized the moment of surprize to lock the door behind him.

As a final measure he leaned with his back against the door, just in case Peter tried to break it open.

Instead though Peter just landed in the middle of the room, turned around and gave Derek a momentary snarl before getting fully up, retracting his fangs and letting out a frustrated sigh.

When he spoke it sounded resigned.

“Are you serious, Derek?”

Derek shook his head and grinned with some slight frustration of his own.

“You better believe it Peter. We are not leaving this room until you two idiots talked about your feelings.”

Stiles and Peter eyed each other and Derek had a hard time not rolling his eyes at them.

They were both so annoyingly smart, how were they the ones being so difficult about this?

They were probably actually thinking too much about it.

Eventually Peter was the one to speak first.

“We don’t have to talk about this now Stiles. You and me together can absolutely knock Derek out and get out of here.”

Stiles’ eyes flickered from Peter to Derek and back.

He licked his lips.

“Tempting. But at this point we all have to acknowledge that there is something you and I actually should talk about. And pretending there isn’t will probably drive me crazy. It was easier to ignore before now…”

With another resigned sigh and sagging shoulders Peter nodded.

“You are right…I just…I wanted a little more time with you before this.”

Stiles went pale and Derek covered his eyes.

“Could you make this sound any more ominous? Stiles probably thinks you are trying to break up with him.”

“But I thought-”

Peter looked between Stiles and Derek with confusion and Stiles looked at Peter and Derek with confusion and concern.

Those idiots.

“Alright, for this one time let me be the one explaining something to the two of you.”

He pointed at them accusingly.

He was so done.

“You two are both being really stupid and in about ten minutes probably won’t believe how dumb you were being.”

“Rude” Stiles mumbled and Peter crossed his arms “Is there any other insult you feel like throwing our way?”

Derek shook his head.

“To spell it out for you. Stiles, Peter is in love with you, he had no idea his stone cold heart was capable of that emotion and that is why he is being a total jerk about it, because he is scared you will reject him and he won’t survive it.”

Before either of them could respond Derek continued.

“Peter, Stiles thinks he is just another one of your flings and that is why he is not allowing himself even the idea of being in a more serious and committed relationship with you, even though he clearly wants that. Now if you both could make up so we can all get back to our normal selves that’d be great.”

Silence folled his words.

Peter and Stiles stared at each other and Derek seemed forgotten.

“Is it true?” Stiles asked and Peter scowled.

“And if it were?”

Stiles looked down at his hands.

“I…”

Derek saw him swallow hard and blink tears away.

When he continued his voice sounded a bit choked.

“I’d be very happy…”

Peter’s face was unreadable, but when he spoke it was soft and careful, like he was afraid of what his words might turn into.

“All I want is to make you happy…I actually want that more- more than for me to be happy.”

Stiles laughed through the actual tears that were now rolling down his cheeks.

“We are idiots.”

Peter nodded with a small smile.

“So it seems.”

Derek was glad they had gotten there, but now he wanted some peace and quiet.

“You definitely were. Now that this has been all cleared up, please leave my room.”

He unlocked the door, opened it and waited for both of them to leave.

Stiles and Peter both looked like they wanted to say something but Derek just shook his head.

“Thank me later, out of my room now. I need a break from playing your therapist.”

They left the room and he closed the door behind them, locking it again.

He took a deep breath and just fell onto his bed with a noise of exhausted appreciation for the cozy embrace of his blankets and pillows.

He closed his eyes and his mind was about to actually relax when he started hearing the clearly identifiable noise of someone rocking Peter’s bed.

Those fucking assholes.

#teen wolf #steter #my stuff #they are all idiots #part 2 of His Older Brother

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yoosungslololpartner · 5 years

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Hey, could I get a matchup please? :D I‘m a binational and bilingual girl. Actually, I can speak 5 languages fluently and I‘d like to learn more, since languages are one of my passions. But I also find STEM subjects very interesting and am very good at them. ‚Jack of all trades, master of none‘ would be a very fitting way to describe me. I‘m very ambitious, loyal, curious, active (I run and workout) and philosophical. However, I also procrastinate, and tend to be rather depressed.. (part 1)

It’s been a hot minute! But exams are stressing me out so what better way to chill out that to write a match-up for my lovely followers! Now I am SO SO SO sorry it is BEYOND late, and you might never see this anon because you’ve forgotten :’( BUT I will still answer all my asks on the off chance anyone still reads it. I mean it’s just as enjoyable for me as it is for you so to whoever is around. Enjoy! ^_^

*DISCLOSURE* I do get a little deep and emotional and the end so sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted… I’m so proud you survived an eating disorder! I’ve been there before and I just want you all to know I’m always here to talk (even if I do take long to write I answer my messages promptly always) Love yourselves you’re all so beautiful I love you!!!

I match you up with V! It was an insanely hot summer’s day; the sun was beating down melting everything and anything under its penetrating ray. The pathetic fan in your room served no purpose beside its slight breeze that lightly blew the pages of your chemistry book, rising but falling unceremoniously beside your slumped form on the desk beside it. While STEM was your passion you were out of your mind to think you could get any studying done in this exasperating heat. It was then you saw the bright coloured running shoes in the corner of your room and decided: why not make the most of this awesome day?

Grabbing a towel, a bottle of water, and some headphones you were out the door and running at a brisk pace. You enjoyed these runs, not only because it kept you active, but the breathtaking scenery which would distract you from whatever worries or emotions had been floating around from the day. When you entered the park, you slowed down to take a short break on one of the wooden park benches. Sipping your water, you hadn’t noticed that a intimidating man had taken a seat right next to you.

Immediately you began to feel uncomfortable as he closed the short gap between you, and with a sleazy smirk on his face attempted to talk to you.

“Hey Babe~ All that sweat on your body, you must be really hot? Maybe I can help you cool down back at my place?” You felt your stomach churn, and you physically retracted, as his disgusting words made you want to get up and run.

“Ha, ha thank you. But I have somewhere to be-“ You said as you got up, only to be dragged back down as he held tight onto your wrist.

“Not so fast Princess-“

At this exact moment, a blue-haired photographer had been taking pictures of the blooming flowers when he saw this scene unfold before his eyes (well more like heard, his eyes weren’t in the best condition)

“There you are honey! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You can’t be jogging around the park on your own like that, perverts like these are lurking around everywhere.” The blue-haired man fabricated as he swiftly lead you away from that creep.

As soon as you were far enough he let go of your hand and gave you a warm bright smile, making your heart flutter ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry for being so forward, I hope I didn’t offend you by touching you without permission. I just wanted to make it clear you weren’t interested, men in this park can be persistent.” He said with a sad and apologetic face.

“Oh no, thank you so much! I’m sure if you hadn’t come I would have decked him! Although he might of deserved it, your help definitely seems like the most sensible option.” You exclaimed with gratitude.

“I’m glad. My name is Jihyun Kim by the way. Can I ask what yours is?” He questioned as he adjusted his camera pouch on his neck.

“It’s_______. Nice to meet you Jihyun…and thank you again…” You blushed slightly as your anxiety began to rise again. This guy was really nice, but what if he’s just being polite out of pity? I want to see him again there’s no way I could ask him out…Ah forget it I should just go home-

“Is something the matter?” He asked as he watched as you fiddled with the aux cord of your headphones.

“Uh no…I should go now though. Bye.” You blushed hard as you turned sharply like an acrobat on a wire, avoiding anymore torturous eye contact.

“Wait! _____!” The sound of your name made you stop in your tracks as you shyly turned around with a coy scratch to your head. Your hand came back drenched with sweat. Oh god! Am I sweating this much! Can the ground just swallow me up?

“If it isn’t too much trouble for you, would you perhaps like to join me for dinner later this evening?” He asked with a beautifully radiant smile. So he does like me? You thought? Or not? Maybe he just wants to make fun of me….What do I say?

“Ok…” You said with hesitation. Once again he smiled, and promised to pick you up at eight. So this was a date? Oh boy….

Your first date with V, was unlike any you had ever been on. It was a rocky start to begin with as you could barely utter a word without the little voice in your head telling you to be quiet. But when you arrived at the exhibit everything became a dream. Before dinner, V showed you around his latest work. His images truly were beautiful. One in particular caught your eye of a fire burning in a cave.

“That’s an interesting one. What made you want to photograph this?”

“I’m glad you asked! This one has a bit of a philosophical angle so if you’re not into that sort of thing just shut me up….” He began telling you his inspiration by Plato’s Allegory of the cave, to which you absolutely loved! He was astonished how intrigued you were, usually people would tell him to put a sock in it whenever he tried to explain his philosophical angles, but you couldn’t get enough.

The evening was sweet; V returned you home and bid you good night. He didn’t expect a kiss or ask to go inside. He thanked you for spending the night with him and expressed how he would love to see you again.

You did see V again after that night. However your relationship continued at a slow pace as you wanted to be more comfortable before pursuing a romantic attachment. The two of you decided to collaborate and make a fundraising charity for women in need. You were so happy to have found someone who cares about the well being of others as much as you do. He truly did admire you vigor and drive to change the world. And before he knew it he felt that familiar feeling of warmth in his heart when he looked into your eyes. You and V were friends for an extremely long time. Not to his complete displeasure though. He got to know you for you which made him fall in love with you all the more. He loved how you could speak so fluently and varied, it was extremely helpful when he had clients from across the world. Also he did slightly get chills down his spine whenever you spoke in another language. Whenever you studied your STEM subjects and excitedly taught him the laws of science he would listen and watch you with rapture. Seeing you happy was like a drug to him. He supported your dream in studying with all his heart, and whenever you became stressed he would always cheer you on. He knew you were completely different from Rika. With Rika he had fallen in love so quickly, confused with pity and protection. But with you he didn’t feel as though he had rushed. On the contrary, you two had formed a friendship. You were his friend. His other half. But he needed to tell you, or else he might lose you to someone else.

After he built up the courage one day, he decided today would be the day he revealed his feelings for you. He called you but you didn’t answer. He waited and called you again but no answer. He became worried since you usually answered his calls checking if you had lunch. He decided to go to your apartment just to check if you were ok.

When he arrived he knocked at your door calmly. He waited patiently before he heard a shuffle a click. You stood in the doorway eyes red with tears huddled in a blanket as you murmured for him to come in.

V not wanting to force you into speaking simply sat beside you and gently rubbed your back as you quietly cried into a pillow. While you adored V, he was the last person you wanted to see you like this. You had been watching TV when you saw a weight loss advert. Before you knew it all those painful memories came flooding back to the forefront of your mind. Threatening to spill out and throw you back into the dark forests of your mind. Struggling to look V in the eyes, you decided to tell him of the past you had experienced, considering how honest he had been with his traumatic past with Rika. Maybe he could understand…help me feel whole again.

After you finally choked out the last of each painful detail, you finally built up the courage to look V in the eye.

He had his head bowed and his arms crossed pensively. You suddenly felt like you had made a mistake, what if he thinks I’m a freak?

“_______. Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it must have been hard. And I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry this for so long. I know I can’t erase what has been said in the past to you, or protect you from whatever is hurting you. But I want you to know this… You are the most beautiful, honest, loyal, and caring woman I have ever met. Some days all I can do is think about you. The way you smile, that radiant smile whenever you fight for what you believe in. Each day I’m with you I feel immeasurable amounts of happiness. And it saddens me to see you feel as though you aren’t the perfect woman I see in front of me.”

Using his free hand he gently tilted your head to place a soft kiss on your cheek, moist from the tears.

“Please don’t cry. I’m here for you. I will always be here for you.”

#v mysme #v mystic messenger #mystic messenger matchups #mysme matchups #anonnie

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