#write my fics before they shut down the entire internet

[myname-isnia]

They blocked Ao3 what is the point anymore

#they = roskomnadzor #yes because it’s the fanfiction websites that are driving this country to ruin. not yk the government #it’s cause all the gay stuff isn’t it #the new laws and everything #ffs #it works with a vpn but like... barely #the second I got it working I downloaded all my favourite fics bc I do not trust this to not get worse #this is my punishment for procrastinating on writing for so long #welp... now I have a motivator I guess #write my fics before they shut down the entire internet #idk why but I thought Ao3 was untouchable #but I guess nothing is

[wildlife4life]

Seven (+) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by super amazing @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @glorious-spoon @wikiangela @daffi-990 @tizniz @devirnis @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks and @diazsdimples. Thank you all so much!

Alright, so I know haven't been as active since dropping the first chapter of NFL Buck. I've just been sort of down because that same day, the Super Bowl Champs had their parade and rally, and just after it ended there was a mass shooting. My younger sister was there with some friends and they got away unharmed, but when she didn't answer my message for a long 30 minutes, I truly thought the worst. I've just been so sad and angry for Kansas City, for the US really and I just couldn't get into the spirit of writing. I'm not getting into the politics of it all today and my sister is coming for a visit soon, so I'm feeling marginally better. KC Strong.

First chapter of NFL Buck has been dropped, but everything else I've posted for this fic can be found here. Here is a snippet from the Eddie Begin's arc of NFL Buck.

Hurricane Harvey was relentless for almost four days, bullying southern Texas with unforgiving wind and an exurbanite amount of rain. Houston fire department and so many others worked day and night to help those who had not evacuated.  It was absolute chaos, and it blew through Eddie’s entire life. The storms had wreaked havoc on the cell towers, which meant service was spotty to none and radios became the main source of communication for rescuers. By some miracle, though, the internet connection at the firehouse held strong. It was slow and glitched out here and there, reminding Eddie too much of his time in Afghanistan. He watched his infant son grow up through a screen, with his very upset wife barely holding on and his parents hovering nearby, souring the video calls even further. Christopher was no longer a whimpering baby in his mother’s lap but looking at his saddened son on a glitching iPad screen with a tense Maddie sitting beside him, was too familiar.  Add in the argument he had with Buck just before, and the threat of danger just outside the firehouse, Eddie was back to being a scared 19-year-old in war riddled country. “Dad, grandma said we’re not going to visit Buck anymore. That he’s too busy. And Maddie tried to call him, but he didn’t answer and…” The eight-year old’s voice trails off, his lips trembling. Eddie bites his inner cheek hard. This was on him. He gave into his mother’s worries and demands about traveling through Texas during the hurricane.  Helena was too stubborn and being his mother, she knew every damn button to push, and Eddie was tired of fighting.  So, he reluctantly agreed to cancel the visit and his mother grinned a little too sharply before stating, “I’m sure Maddie will enjoy having her brother to herself.” Another ploy to take Christopher and Eddie fucking fell for it. Then his mother took it a step further by graciously telling Buck and Maddie herself, that Christopher would no longer be joining them in Dallas and to enjoy their time together for as long as they need it. Eddie knew his mother didn’t approve of his relationship with Buck, more so than his previous one with Shannon. The only reason she kept her mouth shut was the potential back lash of upsetting Christopher. But she already succeeded in having a hand in driving away Shannon and she probably believed she could do the same with Evan.

With this fic, there are a lot of canon events with twists. The usual timeline does not exists. But I hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @theotherbuckley @lover-of-mine @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @aroeddiediaz @giddyupbuck @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiescowboy @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @buck-coded @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley @nmcggg

#seven sentence sunday #tag game #my wip #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #nfl #quarterback buck #firefighter eddie #secret relationship #hurricane harvey #eddie begins au #prayers for kc #kc strong

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

City Slicker (m, allergies)

I present to you all: p0rn lmao. This is my first allergy fic in YEARS and it is literally just 2k of Elijah sneezing himself silly. It's a little messy, just fair warning. Hope you all (especially my allergy-hungry friends in my ask box) enjoy this - I certainly enjoyed writing it lmao.

cw: male snz, MESS

City Slicker

“What’s your favorite animal?”

“Greyson. I really am not in the mood to play twenty questions right now.”

“But I’m bored.”

Elijah sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other held firmly on the steering wheel of the van. “What are you, a toddler?” he asked, replacing his hand so both were white-knuckling the steering wheel. “Play on your phone or something.”

“I’ve reached the end of the internet. Can we stop and get Starbucks?”

“Greyson, we’re in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere. What do you want me to do, conjure up a Starbucks? You should’ve asked before we were out of the city.”

Greyson groaned loudly, living up to the toddler label his boss had bestowed upon him. “Great, so now I get to be bored and uncaffeinated.”

“I’m sure they’ll have some shitty folger’s or something when we get there,” Elijah said, prompting a loud, fake gag from Greyson. Elijah took a deep, calming breath in through his nose. “We’re almost there, you fucking brat.”

The event this weekend wasn’t one Elijah would have normally said yes to; it was a Farmhouse Retreat out in a rural part of New York State, and any town with fewer than a million people living in it tended to give him hives. Not to mention his irrational fear of farm animals – not that he’d ever actually seen one in person; the thought alone of a pig looking him in the eye was too disgusting for him to put into words. But, it was a paid event which was incredibly rare, and it was a celebrity getaway which meant buzz for the restaurant. Those were two difficult things to say no to.

Elijah’s phone signaled them to turn right, and when he did he and Greyson gasped in unison – this was no Podunk farmhouse getaway. The house itself was more of a farm mansion, twice the size of even the largest house Elijah had seen out in the Hampton's. The agriculture was meticulously kept, and the animals were grazing out in the tall grass – far enough away to escape any fear, but close enough to give the entire place a Fisher-Price-esque charm. Greyson whistled long and low as they parked next to the line of other caterer’s cars.

“Not in Kansas anymore, eh Dorothy?” the chef asked, yanking open the passenger side door and stepping out to stretch. Elijah couldn’t help but huff out a laugh as he opened his own door.

“Guess no – HTSCH!” Elijah wrenched to the side as he stepped out of the car. Clearly the air out here was too clean for his city-boy sensibilities. Greyson barked out a laugh from the other side of the van.

“Bless,” he called, pulling open the two trunk doors to start unloading their things. “I figured your systems would all start shutting down the moment you breathed in air that didn’t smell like piss.”

“Oh, like you’re any better,” Elijah said, starting towards the trunk to help his friend. “When’s the last time you chose to take a trip somewhere with no bar or coffee shop?”

“Obviously never, but I grew up in a shitty one-horse town,” Greyson said. “You’ve probably never even seen a cow in real life.”

Elijah’s face flamed, and Greyson howled. “Shut the fuck up,” Elijah grumbled, elbowing Greyson in the stomach and grabbing the decorations for their booth. Greyson doubled over with laughter, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted into the quiet farm air.

“CITY SLICKER! WE GOT OURSELVES A CITY SLICKER!”

“Greyson, shut up,” Elijah called, turning to face the chef. “People are paying to stay here, you fucking dickhead.”

“Alright, alright, sorry boss,” Greyson lamented. He pulled a few chafing dishes out of the back and hoisted them onto his shoulder. “Not my fault that it’s hilarious that your body hates fresh air.”

“It doesn’t – hhITZCH! TSHH! HTSH!” Elijah crushed his nose into his shoulder to sneeze this time, prompting another round of laughter from Greyson.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Greyson said, passing his boss to head towards the sign directing the purveyors to the massive yard of the farmhouse. “City slicker.”

***

Something was happening – he didn’t know what it was, but he did not like it.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Like, I know I was making fun of you before, but are you sick?” Greyson asked as Elijah buried his face in his arm for the fiftieth time that hour.

“HTSHH! Hh-ITZCHH! HRSHH!” Elijah wiped his running nose on his sleeve and cringed. He used his hand to attempt to wipe the sleeve of the watery mucus he’d left behind to no avail. “I’m not sick, I feel fine,” he said. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me – HTSHH!”

Greyson slowly raised an eyebrow, covered his finished food so it would stay fresh for the first guests’ arrival in thirty minutes, and leaned against their booth. “Lij, I’ve spent a lot of time around you – you literally never sneeze this much unless you’re sick.”

“Grey, I’ve been completely fine up until we got here, are you saying the fucking fresh air made me sick? Do you think I’m some sort of nega-Victorian child, instead of needing the fresh air to clear up my scarlet fever I need the sweet smell of street hotdogs and sewage? Hhuhh’ITSCHH-ue! TSHH! ITZCHUE! Fucking hell.” Elijah covered his face with a hand and looked desperately around for something to wipe it with. Grudgingly, Greyson handed him one of his kitchen towels. “Thanks,” Elijah muttered, blowing his nose.

“Y’know,” Greyson said, “normally I would say that yes, you are the nega-Victorian child, but I don’t think you’re lying.”

“Thanks,” Elijah said, rolling his eyes from behind the towel.

“For once.”

Elijah flipped the chef off.

Greyson laughed. “Seriously, though, have you ever been on a farm before?”

Elijah threw his hands into the air, annoyed. “No, Greyson, I’ve never been on a farm. Happy? Yes, I’m a fuckin’ liberal-elite city-slicking dickhead. Happy?” He sniffled lightly, post-tirade, his nose already itching again with the need to – to -

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh! TSHHH! HRSHH-uh! ITZCHH-ue! Huh!” Elijah pressed the back of his hand hard into his nose to stop the stream of sneezes – the other caterers had to be staring at him. He was sure of it.

Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing. “Lij,” he said, placing a careful hand on his boss’s shoulder. “I think you’re allergic to this farm.”

Elijah blinked back itchy tears. He rubbed his nose on the towel, sniffled lightly, and looked around him – at the animals he’d never been near before, the grass he’d only been around when it was perfectly manicured for a lawn or fake, the trees with their yellow pollen floating in the wind. “Oh,” he said. “I… I mean, I’m not allergic to anything.”

“Not allergic to anything you’ve been around before,” Greyson corrected, a shit-eating grin slapped across his face.

Elijah pressed two fingers into his itching, swelling right eye. “Yeah,” he said, taking in the allergen-ladled scenery. “I guess you’re right.”

Greyson motioned towards the back doors of the farmhouse, where throngs of people were beginning to head towards the booths of food. “I’d offer to ask the host for an antihistamine,” he said, “but I think it might be showtime.”

Elijah watched the crowd with a mix of anxiety and abject horror. This walk-around event was two hours long, and he couldn’t go two minutes without sneezing. “Fuck me,” he muttered, shoving the towel behind their booth and sniffling. “Hhh-! HTSSHH! HRRISHH!”

“Get it together, man,” Greyson said, unwrapping his food and setting out tiny plates. “It’s showtime.”

***

By the time the event was over and the guests had filed back into the farmhouse for whatever rich person activity they had planned for the evening, Elijah had quite literally sneezed himself hoarse.

“Dude,” Greyson said as he piled their things back into the containers they’d brought with them, “maybe you should go sit down for awhile.”

Elijah turned to the chef, rubbing his nearly-swollen-shut eye, and gave him the dirtiest look he could muster. “Sit where, Chef? In the grass that’s trying to kill me, or under the tree that’s trying to kill mehhh – ETSCHH-ue! ESHHH! HRTSHH-uhh! HTSHH! TSHH! ITZCH-ue! Guhh…” Elijah had given up the facade and moved from sneezing helplessly into his sleeve to sneezing directly onto the ground, hands braced on his knees so as not to pass out from dizziness. Greyson cringed as his boss wiped a string of snot from his nose with the back of his hand – this was about to be a long drive back to the city.

“I meant in the car, Lij,” Greyson said, not-so-subtly handing Elijah his last clean kitchen towel. The GM took it, grateful, and wiped his nose, which seemingly subconsciously turned into a long, congested nose blow.

“Fuck, sorry, my brain isn’t fucking working,” Elijah muttered, clearing his throat. “I can’t fucking stop – HRRSHH-ue! Snee – HTSH! HRSSH! ITZSSCHUE! Hhh!” Elijah cringed into the now-soiled kitchen towel, delicately wiped his nose, and folded it up. “You don’t have another one of those by chance, do you?” he asked, breath already hitching once again.

“Sorry, boss,” Greyson winced. “Last one.”

Elijah nodded, somber. “Yeah, I’ll go waii – huh… snf. Wait in the cah – HUHHITSZHH-ue! ITSSZHH-uh! Huh! HTSHH! HuhhhITSZZHH-ue!” Elijah once again turned away from Greyson to sneeze towards the ground. Each one sounded more desperate, more painful than the last. Greyson had literally never seen his boss so… well… affected.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” a voice from behind the both of them said. Greyson whipped around as Elijah attended to his nose. It was one of the other chefs, smiling in sympathy and holding a pink package. “I wanted to see if he needed some Benadryl. I mean, it’s not non-drowsy, but since the event is over I figured -”

“Yes,” Greyson said without consulting Elijah. “Yes, one million percent.” He took the Benadryl out of the other man’s hand and placed a grateful hand on his shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

The other chef laughed in earnest, took a peek over at Elijah, then regarded Greyson again. “I remember my first farm trip,” he said. Greyson bit back a laugh.

“Something similar?”

“You could say that.”

Greyson smiled and patted the man’s shoulder. “Thank you again. Seriously, here’s my card – stop by anytime for dinner on me. You just saved me from five hours of breathing in his fuckin’ mucus.”

The man laughed again. “Anytime,” he said, taking the card from Greyson’s hand. “And I think I’ll take you up on that. You guys in the city?”

“Lucky guess,” Greyson said. The other chef smiled.

“See you around,” he said, heading towards his truck. Greyson popped a pink pill out of its packaging and placed a rough hand on his boss’s shoulder. Elijah, obviously gearing up for another fit of sneezes, turned and saw, almost instinctively, the pill in Greyson’s hand.

“Oh thank god,” Elijah gasped, snatching the Benadryl and choking it down dry. Greyson snorted out a laugh.

“Now you really need to go sit in the car,” he said as Elijah wiped his raw nose for the millionth time.

“Wha - ? Why, what was that?”

“Benadryl, you pill-fiend,” Greyson said, showing his boss the packaging. “Can’t sneeze if you’re passed out.”

“At this point I would’ve taken a lobotomy if it stopped the snee – sneezi – HUTSHHH-ue! HRSH! HRSHHH! HTSHH! Hhuhhh… hh, hhh… huhhITSSZZH-ue!” Elijah, clearly too exhausted to even cover his mouth, just turned away and allowed the fit to happen, sneezes sprayed into the open, pollen-heavy air. He groaned and held a hand up to his streaming nose. Greyson sighed, took off his chef’s coat so he was just in a white cotton t-shirt, and handed it woefully to his boss.

“You owe me a new coat,” he said as Elijah, too exhausted to even feel shame, took the garment and held it to his face. “Now go to the car and go to sleep.”

“Yes, Cheehh – HRRTSHH-ue!”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #snzfic #snez #allergy fic #allergies #sneezefic #snzblr #snzfucker #snz kink #snz fet

[qqtxt]

[🍬] nothing matters [🐿]

[!] this is for the 500 followers mini fics. click here to find out more! ✿ pairing: taehyun x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / fluff / 646 words ✿ request: “relationships are built on trust, and i trust you.” + taehyun ✿ i’ll stop saying it at this point but like... for these event mini fics, i’ll just write whatever my mind first gravitates to and this... this first came to mind when i tried to think of what scenario to link it to so... enjoy! (???) [main masterlist 🌸] / [event masterlist] / [tag: #qqtxt: 500] 

despite the chaos that’s been rapidly unfolding throughout the whole day, taehyun’s able to finally rest his heart a little when he enters one of the meeting rooms beomgyu mentioned he swear he saw you rushing into, and he’s able to confirm that when he sees a familiar looking sweater peeking from under the large conference table set in the middle of the room. he doesn’t switch on the light, and instead, announces his presence with: “it’s me.”

he watches as your silhouette looks like you’re thinking on who it might be. the way your body tenses, your arms hugging your knees tighter and the mere thought of it being a form of authority scares the living life out of you. so he speaks up once more: “it’s me, y/n,”

he smiles a little in the dark, seeing how your body relaxes but you’re still cowering under the table, feeling safe there. he gets to his knees and crawls carefully to reach you, his voice telling you that–”i’m approaching you very, very slowly right now, so don’t come swinging at me.”

“there we go,” he chuckles, kneeling before you despite your folded knees coming in between your bodies. like a barrier. one that taehyun doesn’t like but he understands why you’re in the position you’re in.

“hey,” he says softly, one of his hands resting on your folded arms hugging your entire form together, his other reaching up to rest along the side of your head. “what’re you doing here?”

“hiding,” you answer, voice meek, “i... i kept telling them i had no idea how it leaked but it doesn’t seem they believe me and it’s all just so crazy i want to–”taehyun’s nervous laughter is what cuts you off but it does nothing to soothe your erratic heart. in some twisted, twisted way, your relationship with taehyun had went public and it mortified you. photos of the two of you showcased on the internet–without any of your consent–and suffice to say, it’s been a hell of a week.

“hey,” taehyun calls out again, gently this time (as if the first time wasn’t already). his hands carefully settle on your kneecaps and he’s able to maneuver them aside, until you’ve folded them onto the floor so he has full access to move his hands to cup your cheeks. “relationships are built on trust,” he speaks, “and i trust you.”

when you fall silent, tears filling your eyes to the brim, he asks: “did you post our photos online?”

“of course not,” your answer comes in a single, shaky breath; a couple of stray tears falling from your eyes that roll into taehyun’s palms against your cheeks. he nods, as if he had already known that answer. then again, he did even way before he asked.

“then that’s settled.”

“...what?”

“yeah, i mean, i already know you didn’t post them up and i sure as hell didn’t. so it must’ve been one of those hackers who did it. hybe’s trying to track it down but the pr management team is putting together a statement.”

you swallow, shaky, dilated eyes on him that he’s able to read your mind.

“no one is going to blame you for this. i certainly won’t stand for it but... it’s going to be a bit difficult seeing each other now. all i know is i’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, if you’ll stay?”

again, taehyun already knows your answer when your eyes flutter shut in submission, cheek nuzzling into his touch. then, it’s the way your hands gently snake around his frame to slowly lean up into his embrace. it’s a quiet admission to being together despite the madness going on outside. and if for a split moment you can have taehyun like this; if he can have you like this, nothing else matters.

nothing else did.

#qqtxt: 500 #taehyun x reader #txt taehyun #taehyun scenarios #taehyun x you #kang taehyun #taehyun x y/n #kang taehyun scenarios #txt scenarios #txt x you #txt x reader #txt stories #txt imagines #txt reactions

[gumnut-logic]

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

::rolls up sleeves and brainstorms all over the keyboard::

If you want to do it, do it. Don't hide. Everyone had to start somewhere (wanna see my first ever fic? I was 18 and the internet did not exist, also, it was really badly written; you can find my second ever written fic here - its TOS Trek). We've all been there and we are all learning. Don't be scared, Thunderfam at least is here to support. For you fanartists out there, check out How I learnt Portraiture and then check out this post to prove that I can paint, honestly, really I can :D

If you do encounter negativity - block/ban. In fandom, if you can't say something nice, shut up and go away. Don't like, don't read, and mind your own business. I'm all for self curating your online experience. The only time constructive criticism is polite is when you know the person and they've asked. Like I have several members of Thunderfam I come screaming to while writing with the question, does this suck? These are my sanity checkers - Gavii, unfortunately you have taken on this mantle and suffer on a fairly regular basis. Nutty by name and nature.

Works in Progress - anyone who has known me here at all knows I leave a wake of WiPs behind me. Some I get back to, some, not so much (I promise to pull Alex out from under that building, I do!). WiPs are part of the way an artist works (I have so many in so many media, omigod). Because fanfic is published close to the leading edge of creation, its gonna happen. Fanfic is written for fun, after all. The key is to not let them beat you up in the head. Yes, there is unfinished stuff, but it doesn't mean you can't write something else in the meantime. Don't let it stop your muse. I am notorious for unfinished stuff and the real world hates it. But this isn't the real world, THIS IS FOR FUN. I know the marketing theories and the regularity of posting and popularity and what is at stake if either not enough is published regularly or if too much unfinished stuff disappoints the reader. But again, if you let the WiPs hang around your neck too much and badger you, they will drown you. It will become a job, a burden, something you hate. So don't pressure yourself. Work with your muse and see what you can wrangle out of it...at your own pace. You might be surprised what works.

The Terry Pratchett method - I don't know if it is true or not, but there is a post flying around Tumblr somewhere that claims Terry Pratchett, famous author, only aimed to write 400 words a day. This is something I have found extremely useful. If you want to write something, don't set the bar too high so you fail. Set it at a reachable level, even 200 words or 100 words. Honestly the hardest part is actually sitting down and starting. Before you know it you will have passed your low goal and blown it out of the water 3000 words later (my highest number of words in one day was 7000 - I tend to edit as I go, so it slows me down). Rarely do we have an entire day we can write, cos life keeps getting in the way. So do it in little bits. I'm doing this method with my crochet at the moment. Lots of little bits make big bits. This is how I've written many of my longer fics. Heh, I used to have fifteen minutes in the car before work, so I'd pull up on the side of the road and write as much as I could in that time. Sometimes having a limited time helps with that as well.

But the biggest thing you can do to improve your writing is to get to know yourself very well. I'm on the autism spectrum and likely have some forms of ADHD or Executive Dysfunction (I literally cried the day I found out it had a name as to why I couldn't finish things). It's taken me years to work out how to get work out of myself. How to avoid fighting myself (a fight I never win). To learn what works best for me and how I can herd the cats in my brain into them doing what I need them to do. Find out what makes you tick. Find out what sparks your muse, what way best enables you to write. Try different times of the day, different places, bribe yourself, time limit yourself, lock the family out of the room, go to the beach, write on paper, go mobile, write on your phone, scribble notes, anything that can get your brain doing what you want it to do. Sometimes reading fic can do it, showers and manual work are great for idea sparking - let the brain idle and it comes up with all sorts of interesting things. Very late night writing can be a doozy of a trip :D Find what works then do it - until it changes and you have to find it again because yes, my brain does that too, drat it.

And that is probably enough babbling from me :D I need to go find Virgil and a pick up with his name on it...or Gordon's...it's still gelling in my brain :D

I hope this helps someone, even just a tiny bit. Writing is hard work, don't let it drown you. Also, we all have up and down days, just because something sucks today, doesn't mean it will feel the same tomorrow. Never give up, never surrender, and if you do give up on one thing....ooh, look there's another one to play with.

Thank you for asking ::squishy hugs you lots::

Nutty

(who despite this will still have days where the writing will not work...in which case, I'm gonna do something else for a bit until brain decides it wants to play....stupid brain, do it on demand, you pile of goop)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderfam #nutty is nuts

[smilingformoney]

Today marks one year since I started publishing Soul of Ice.

I didn’t publish it on Ao3 until 24 Jan due to waiting for an account, but it was first posted here on Tumblr. That original post has an entire seven notes.

As of writing this (this post is queued - I’m writing this on 14 Dec. Hi future Tumblr!), on Ao3 I have 160 comments, 278 kudos, 46 bookmarks and 11k+ hits. Plus Merlin knows how many Tumblr comments, messages and asks I’ve had over the last year.

This is honestly overwhelming. I know there are a lot of Snape fics out there with better numbers - but OC stories are a lot less popular than reader or canon character fics, so I very much take this as a win. We all know we can’t kudos twice, so the fact that over two hundred and fifty people have gone “yeah this is alright” is beyond anything I comprehended a year ago.

So what did I comprehend a year ago? Honestly, barely anything. I certainly didn’t expect the story to turn into what it is today. I had this concept of Dad Snape rattling in my brain itching to get out, so I started out with the intention of a few one-shots, writing them down in whatever order they came to me in - similar to what the spin-off prequel, Morality Is An Illusion, is now.

Obviously, I failed at that. The story just kept growing and growing in my mind, and Sephy and Abbie just took over. Abbie has been rattling around in my head for 11 years now, and she’s taken various forms in various daydreams about various fandoms. But she began life as Snape’s daughter, and she will always be Snape’s daughter.

Sephy is fairly new. For a long time she had a different name and wasn’t relevant to the story. Even when I started writing, she wasn’t intended to be all that key to the story. And while Soul of Ice will always be a love story about Snape and Abbie, the development of Snape and Sephy grew into a much bigger part of the story, and I can no longer see the story as anything other than one of three players.

I have met some incredible people on here. I’ve been active in various fandoms in various formats (I’m old enough to remember when fandoms mostly congregated on message boards 👵🏻) for 16 years and I can say, without hesitation, that the Tumblr Snape fandom is the best fandom I have ever been in. Some of my mutuals read my fic, some don’t - and honestly, kudos to those that don’t but still let me on their dashes with my bullshit. (But also, you should read it 👀) This feels like a space I can talk about my hyperfixation without judgment or anyone telling me to shut up. We are all here with love for Professor Blorbo, whatever form that may be.

Y’all know I’m in love with @sevsnapes and want to steal her from her husband. Even in 16 years of fandom, most internet friends come and go, and I’ve rarely found someone who became an irl friend. But Becca has definitely become not just a snestie but a bestie 💚 and it’s all thanks to bonding over writing. Sometimes I think Soul of Ice lives in her head rent-free more than it does mine, which is saying something. The story would not be what it is today without her input and support.

I’ve said it on here before, but every story and every character is a little piece of the author’s soul. Abbie in particular is a massive chunk of my soul. So the fact that people adore her? When people say they came for the romance with Sephy and stayed for the love story with Abbie? When people (usually Becca) message me out of the blue saying “I was just thinking about Abbie”? Honestly fills me with so much love, and it makes me feel seen and accepted.

As I’ve said, Abbie has been a part of me for so long, and I’ve never shared her before. Sephy may be a newer creation, but she was the spark that got me to start really turning concepts into a story.

So what has happened over the last year has been more than just a bit of fun. I have exposed a previously hidden part of my soul to some complete strangers online and I’ve been met with overwhelming acceptance. For someone with trauma deeply rooted in rejection, this is a completely new and, honestly, very healing experience.

I’m not the same person I was a year ago. I’m not where I expected to be now a year ago. And that’s all thanks to Abbie, Sephy, Sev and, most importantly, you lot.

Every comment, kudos, like, view, ask, message - they all bring me so much warmth I could never describe. Thank you 💚

#soul of ice #pro snape #Snapedom #tldr: write fanfic to heal ur soul

[tabbiewolfreblogs]

A few weeks ago, in a fit of self-loathing — a friend called it basically self-harm, and considering how I am, they aren’t entirely wrong — I deleted my entire AO3 archive. Well, not deleted, the fics still exist, but only I can see them.

I’ve complained about this before, and I’ve reblogged the general sentiment many times: I write for myself, but I post for everyone else. And not getting any comments is a bit like doing a stage play with a full audience but absolutely no one applauds. Yes, I know you’re there. But why are you there? What did you like about it? Why are you reading my work? What would you like to see more of?

I reposted my Christmas fics, and two of my recent favorites, because it’s the holiday season and I…I dunno. I felt like I wanted to share them. And today I got a comment from someone who I’m sure meant it with good intentions, asking if I could repost my other works, because they’d just started another (meaning they’d read them multiple times) read-through.

Again: nothing against this person! I am very sure the comment was meant with heart!

But…it was also one of the few comments they’d ever left. The username sounds familiar, so I’m not going to say it’s the only comment they’ve ever left, that would be rude and possibly not true (my memory sucks, but I get so few comments, usually if you leave one I do recall your username, and this one presses that button).

And my first reaction, to be honest, is just…anger. At any point, in the multiple years that series has been up, you could have left a comment. Even just a “Read this again, love it!!” One of the big reasons I took them down is that it genuinely feels like no one likes them, or if they do they’re ashamed to admit it, which is kind of worse. That’s an enormously shitty feeling.

So now I don’t know what to do. A small part of me, the part that is just toned down enough to unlock a fic (literally yesterday or the day before) and is kind of an asshole, wants to spitefully take everything down again. The rest of me realizes that part is a complete dickbag and she needs to shut up, people like my work and can’t I just be happy with view counts?

I don’t know. It’s very weird that I’ve been posting my art online for most of my life — going on 3 decades, well before any kid should have been on the internet — and this is the first thing that’s really caused me to be so self-destructive. I really kind of just want to keep my writing in my little group of friends who actually tell me what they think of it and why they like it.

#self worth #fan fic #self-analyzation #selfishness #can’t win for losing #as the saying goes #personal #rant #ao3 fanfic

[agenderashswag]

a retrospective:

around 6 months ago, i've arguably posted one of the most important fics for me, personally

i started writing in it in november, on the couch at my school, and in that ending i just. poured out my soul. thought about my friends and all of the feels and just channeled it into a few paragraphs. because i was thinking about my friends, about how much i loved fandom, and how badly i wanted a hug. i just took all of those feelings, distilled it to the very basics of what i was feeling, and poured it all onto a page.

i think it's one of the best endings i've written. tired, wanting to be held, and yearning for someone to love me unconditionally, that scene where it was just a hug in an apocalypse because you love someone so much and you don't know what to do, and having coffee in the morning because you'll always hold your promise. and that you love them. did i mention that you love them? you really do love them.

as i started working on it during november and through december, i'd started getting out of my shell and start talking to people in my fandom without being explicitly invited to things (wowie!!!)--and that's one of the best decisions i've ever made. instead of constantly being on the sidelines, i'd started to interact with people more. started laughing with them. shared my insane au ideas with them. and started being friends with them. friends who i hold dearly in my heart because they're lovely people to talk to.

mostly because the first friend i made in the fandom was off of another fic, a fic where i commented, mentioned the basic idea of the fic i was working on, and reached out to dm it on tumblr. where it invited me to a server where i'd meet new people and start talking to them.

i really thank it for it, and i really appreciate it as a friend. and if i never commented on how much i loved its fic, i would have never became friends with it and so many other people. i really do think its one of the things that's kept me sane even despite everything

but onto the actual fic, i think it's the fic I've put the most consideration in. thinking about every line, every bit of dialogue, how to get the emotions even stronger. and doing something that i still value to this day: having my friends read and rip apart my work. without their help (esp aj's: hi if you're reading this!!!), i don't think i would have finished it the way i did, working on countless edits until i thought it was the best thing i had ever written.

eventually, as the fic started to become done, finals were coming up and i was preparing for that--until i got sick. i got sick with a sinus infection and i couldn't take my finals in time. throwing all of my studying plans down the gutter and forcing me to stay cooped up in my room all day.

so as i started to finally feel the sinus infection start to fade away, my fic on the backburner, it ends up my entire family but me got covid, forcing me to quarantine from everyone else in the house. alone in my room again, just as winter break was starting, i was forced to go crazy in my room with only an internet connection to keep me enterained.

i didn't vc anyone, so it was really, really, lonely. i didn't tell anyone outside of my irl friends, but i was really, really lonely during that time. i could only really open my door to see the outside of my house a few times before i shut my door.

during that time, i finally put my head down and started working on other fics. started working on that one fic again, slowly adding and editing to it as i saw fit.

eventually, it was christmas day, and my entire family was celebrating except me. where for 15 minutes, i had to watch my family celebrate on my phone screen without me, and when i finally posted my fic that i had spent so much time on.

and the reception i got was wonderful. i'd spend so long working on it, and to see so many people appreciate my fic was wonderful. someone even wished me a happy christmas, which i really appreciated considering the situation.

no one but me will really know that whenever i re-read that fic, i'm reminded of all of the friends i'd spend late nights texting and the quarantine, but i know it when i read it. i can see the feelings i felt when i was writing it, and i'm delighted it serves as a time capsule for my feelings, even if i'm the only one who can read it

a few months later, as things started ramping up in my personal life, in the car ready to drive to prom, i saw the email notification that the same person who had wished me a happy christmas re-commented again. and how this fic helped them on a bad day

and that's always resonated with me, you know? in that moment where i felt that i was so tired and i couldn't catch a break, i was suddenly transported to being stuck in my room in quarantine, but staying sane because of my friends. and how i needed that pick-up during that time. so to see proof of that working for someone else? it was amazing

and that's always resonated with me. as i started to feel my writing stagger, i started zooming out of my situation again and resisting my old work

and when i got to that fic to fix up some formatting, i read over it again and realized it's been 6 months since i've published it. and i realized truly, how much has changed since i've written it. but even then, i could still relate to the words i wrote on the school couch.

and i'd figure i'd write my feelings about it. my life is still a whirlpool and some of my friends i've made from fandom have left or have been busy, but i don't regret making them. i still miss them sometimes, but i just really want to say that i hope they're safe and they're having a good (or at least, better) day. because even though i haven't talked to them in months, i still love and appreciate them and i could, at the very least, wish for their wellbeing <3

#longpost #let's talk about writing #im not sure if i've put in all of my feelings i've had since writing that fic but. yk #this is already far too long. there's a reason why i haven't made an edit to add this in the authors notes #its already super long #so #you get this tumblr post :) #a tumblr post full of love because i loved writing it #so yeah :) ive been meaning to do this for a bit but i finally sat down and did it. im happy #this made me feel a lot better #anyways. hi friends if you know who i am or you know who are are in this story #i love you

[bingoboingobongo]

Would you write a fezco x reader fic, where she smokes with fez for the first time and she kinda panics, so he helps calms her down. Then once she calms down it ends with her and fez laughing and talking about the stupidest things.

felicity

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Fezco gets high and comes to a realization.

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), use of drugs (weed), brief mention of addiction, brief mention of rehab

A/N: hii, this was a really fun/easy request to write out as a sort of cool down from my last fic, so ty anon (even tho it took me forever to post this sorry). i'm not sure if my depiction of weed usage in this is accurate, i was mainly going off of internet, so i tried to keep it vague. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated :)

Masterlist

"Aight ma," Fezco drawled in his familiar monotone voice, "so you just roll it up like this and then light it and smoke it, got it?"

"I think so?" she replied, grabbing a small sheet of rolling paper to try and mimic Fezco.

The entire scene was adorably endearing to watch as she struggled to skillfully roll a joint, her eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip suspended between her teeth. They had known each other for a while now and since then they had only gotten closer. Contrary to her friends, she had never tried weed before, instead deciding to spend her time sober, but it was nearly the end of winter break and she didn't have anything better to do, which is why she was currently sitting on Fezco's couch.

"Oh- why is mine so ugly?" she cried, holding up her pitiful attempt at rolling a joint.

Fezco chuckled, eliciting a pout out of her, "It's fine ma, it just takes practice. Here I'll make you a better one." The entire process was like second nature to him, ingrained into his muscles through years of practice. "Here," he said, offering her the joint, "want me to light it for you?"

"Um," she hesitated, "yeah, I guess."

"Hey you don't have to do this if you don't want to," he reminded her, putting the joint down.

"No! No! I want to do it, it's just," she started, fidgeting with her hands. "You're a hundred percent sure this is safe right? Because I don't want to get addicted or anything and I read that doing drugs and alcohol at a young age can stunt your brain growth and make you more prone to addiction and I'm not ready for that kind of lifestyle," she rambled, her heart rate quickening and her breaths becoming frenzied.

"Hey, you'll be fine ma," he reassured her, gently taking her hand in his, "this stuff's pretty mild anyways, it's just meant to make you relax and calm down. I wouldn't give you nothing bad anyway. And if you do get addicted we'll get you to rehab," he joked, rubbing soft circles into her skin to help her calm down.

She took a deep breath, "Ok. Ok, let's do this, give me the joint," she said. With a nod, Fezco handed her the joint and delicately placed it in between her lips. He pulled a lighter out of his shirt pocket and beckoned for her to lean towards him so he could light hers, lighting his own afterwards.

He watched her carefully as she took an inhale of the smoke and laughed as she coughed on it.

"You good?" he asked.

"Ye- Yeah I'm good," she responded, screwing her eyes shut as she continued coughing. "When am I supposed to feel something?"

"Uh, it's different for everyone, maybe like fifteen minutes?"

"Okay, so… what do we do now?” she asked.

“Uh, whatever we want I guess.”

She hummed, “Hey you know what’s so weird?”

“What ma?”

“Apparently there’s nothing that’s naturally blue in nature. I mean think about it, blueberries are purple when you smash them and green when you peel them, and how many animals do you know that are blue?” she asked, waving her hands around enthusiastically.

Fezco thought for a moment, he didn’t spend a lot of his time outside, most of it was spent either at his house, parties, or his gas station, and when he did he wasn’t the type to spend his time cataloging colors.

“Wait… Isn’t the sky blue or have I been tripping this entire time?”

She paused, tilting her head to the side and squinting her eyes as she tried to deal with the new information.

“And butterflies,” he pointed out, “I’ve seen a few blue butterflies in documentaries and stuff, aren’t there blue flowers too?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, looking at Fezco with wide eyes, “there are blue things in nature. Have I been lied to? How could I forget about the sky? What if I am gullible?”

“Nah it’s fine,” he reassured her, “hey you wanna know something else cool?” she nodded, “the Great Wall of China has this uh, program thing where they hire cats to walk along the wall and kill mice.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyebrows upturned and her eyes wide, “that is so cute, oh my god I have to see that.”

“Yeah, apparently they put little vests on them too so people know not to mess with them, I saw it in a documentary,” he continued.

“Oh. My. God. That is so adorable, imagine visiting the Great Wall of China and seeing cats! I think I’d scoop one up and take it home with me,” she gushed, grabbing onto Fezco’s arm.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too but apparently they’re trained to always stay at the wall, so like if you try to pick it up it’ll run away. But they have little houses that you can visit as you walk.”

“Aw,” she pouted, “that’s kinda sad but I guess it makes sense, how do they train the cats anyways? I mean, I know that they have like… cat pageants, but can they really train cats to kill mice and stuff?”

“Uh- I- Yeah, I guess they can, apparently they have to go through a huge training program and when they complete they have a whole ceremony and everything.”

She gasped, “You’re lying that is- I wanna see these cats so badly, I have to look this up,” she said, pulling out her phone.

Fezco watched amused as she searched it up, only to find no relevant results, “Fezco?” she whined, “what was the name of the documentary you watched, nothing’s showing up.”

At this point, Fezco was struggling to bite back his laughter; tears were beginning to well up in his eyes and he was fighting to maintain a straight face. Despite his best efforts, the sight of her confused gaze was enough to tip him over the edge, causing him to emit a hearty chuckle.

“Oh- I- I’m sorry ma,” he giggled, trying to regain his composure. “There ain’t- there aren't any Great Wall of China cats, I was just trying to see how long you’d believe it,” he explained. She pouted, rolling her eyes and playfully slapping his arm.

“Screw you Fez,” she joked, pausing to take a deep breath. “Hey I think it’s finally hitting now. I feel… relaxed, like it feels like a wave of like — calm just washed over me, is that what it’s supposed to feel like?” she asked, taking another hit from the joint.

He nodded, “Yeah just- just enjoy it ma.” She hummed, looking ahead and taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. He watched her carefully, admiring the way that her eyelashes fluttered slightly when they closed and the way a light tendril of smoke escaped from her open lips. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but in that moment, there was something about her that just allured him.

Before then, he hadn't really thought about her in a romantic sense, granted they had known each other for a while and they quickly became close, but it wasn't until then that Fezco realized just how happy she made him.

How her texts sparked a flame of excitement in his stomach and her laughter sparked a forest fire of felicity in his soul whenever he heard that blessed sound. How every glance in his direction set him ablaze and every touch ignited an intense inferno of emotions that heated up his heart and sent his insides into hyperdrive.

In that moment, as he watched her calmly take another puff of the joint, he realized that he wasn't sure if he could live without her. She seemed so serene, so comfortable, that he wasn't sure how he could have been so blind as to not have seen it before, she was undoubtedly the one for him.

#bingoboingobongo.com #fezco euphoria #fezco fanfic #fezco imagine #fezco fluff #fezco smut #fezco angst #fezco headcanon #fezco one shot #answered #euphoria hbo #euphoria fic #euphoria

[shotorozu]

you have people simping for you

characters : midoriya izuku, shinsou hitoshi, todoroki shouto

fic type : headcanons [fluff, kinda spicy in one part]

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, all might’s daughter reader in izuku and shouto’s part. (telekinetic quirk mentioned briefly)

notes : yeah so.. i’m still emptying my requests, SO TO THE ANON THAT REQUESTED DONT WORRY I’LL DO IT :)) also i didn’t post yesterday because it,, didn’t feel appropriate to be writing about anime characters, meanwhile someone’s life has been taken from them because of something they didn’t even do??

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

midoriya izuku

okay, so this is how things happened

you know on tiktok, some people make those “___ hits different here” videos

yeah, that’s your type of simp

in short— you blew up on tiktok and you didn’t even know.

does izuku have tiktok? tbh he doesn’t look like the type, but he’d have it for sure

but because everyone in the hero course is so busy, he rarely goes on it

but his fyp is full of all might for sure

anyway, he has some spare time— and you’re still washing up the plates from dinner and you begged him to rest

so, he’s scrolling, and he sees

you??

but the context was “all might’s daughter hits different here.” and its a clip of you from the sports festival just breathing

(it was you with the doja cat streets audio)

izuku was like 😳

he later discovers that you have an entire hashtag dedicated to you.

he’s always seen you as attractive but he wasn’t aware that you had an entire hashtag

he’s shook

so you walk in and he’s like 👁👁 looking at you like a million flashbacks are playing in his brain

and you look at his phone, and you realize it.

lowkey, he got jealous of the comments, and got a little down like a sad puppy

but he comes to realize that you’re his, and he knows you won’t trade him for anything else

(he posted one video flexing you, and he kept it up for an hour before he took it down. it got like.. 500k views)

shinsou hitoshi

kinda smug, kinda insecure

like yeah, you’re hot.

he’s definitely seen people eye you as you pass by them

and it’s priceless to see their reaction upon seeing your face for the first time.

people’s genuine reaction to seeing your pretty face makes him proud.

and he kinda teases you for it “you see that kitten? they’re drooling over you y’know.”

“shut up ‘toshi”

but.. did he know you had an entire side on tiktok? no.

he’d assume that’s a celebrity thing, but you know how this generation is like..

shinsou again, is on skater tiktok, so he’d probably stumble upon you somehow by accident

because his fyp is kinda full of pretty girls, but he always scrolls when he sees them, so don’t worry :))

clicking on your hashtag, he sees people literally simping over you catching your breath in the sports festival

and you just.. standing there

damn, they need to touch some grass

but ngl, you’re hot. the music makes you hotter, and the edits make you hotter

you’re just.. hot

he’s proud that people have finally recognized you, and there’s a mutual agreement that yes—

Y/N is a hottie

but!! is he a little worried you’ll leave him for someone else because of these simps? there are people constantly hitting you up

but oh boy, does shinsou need to know that he’s the only one you need

and he WILL duet one of those simp videos, showing you off.

todoroki shouto

is this how you feel like everyday?

i mean.. a lot of people simp for him too, he’s just.. not conscious of it.

being all might and endeavor’s child means something, and it means that you’ll probably appear in the media at least once.

you both casually cause some bi panic

shouto doesn’t have tiktok because.. why have tiktok when he has you, y’know?

he finds out when the bakusquad is staring at an edit of you

he’s a little confused as to why some stranger made an edit of you just.. sitting down

but!! it hits so much harder ngl

does he become a little protective because of these tiktoks? maybe.

he trusts you a lot, but.. grr.

at least now shouto knows how you feel whenever some fangirl simps over him openly

won’t really tell you about Y/N-tok or all might’s daughter tiktok as an entirely separate conversation.

but he’ll just bring it up one day while you’re rambling to him while cuddling

“you’re tiktok famous.”

“huh? i don’t even have a tiktok.” you’re not allowed to have a public account bc of your dad, so how are you famous on tiktok??

“you are though. a lot of people think you’re pretty.”

“oh really?”

“yeah. i think you’re beautiful. so i can’t be too mad at them.”

“too mad??” you ask, and he’ll just hide his face— expression bashful.

“i won’t leave you,” you laugh, peppering kisses on his cheek, “you’re a lot better than faceless people on the internet.”

will post a video of you, and he’ll be like 🧍they’re mine

and it’ll get 1.9M views

in short- shouto deals with it just fine, since you deal with shouto’s fangirls on a daily basis anyway.

　　　　　　　

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing

do not plagiarize my work :))

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha x y/n #bnha fluff #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki imagines #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #todoroki x y/n #shinsoh hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi x y/n #shinsou imagines #midoriya imagines #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x you #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #THIS ONE ALSO HAS OVER 1K TF #thanks for 1k 🤍 #THIS ONE ALSO HAS 1K— thanks for 1k 🤍

[qqueenofhades]

Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

#long post #anonymous #ask

[ot7always]

In the Dead of Night

banner courtesy of the wonderfully talented @dee-ehn​ !

Word Count: 14.5k

Pairing: Vampire!Jin x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Warnings: dom!Jin, sub!Reader, non-gory blood and knife injury (it’s there, but mostly humorous and/or with very little specific description), biting (like actual biting), vampire compulsion (nothing concerning consent-wise), marking, hair pulling, grinding, size kink, spanking (hand), fingering, praise, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

Rating: 18+

Summary: Courtesy of my roommate, who summarized my story much better than I ever could:

A/N: It’s finally here! I meant for this to be about half the length and be released more than a week or 2 ago, but as you very well know, things don’t exactly go as planned in 2020. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this fic a lot, so please let me know what you think!

--

Saturdays at 3 am were supposed to be peaceful.

Well – at your apartment, that is. You couldn’t account for whoever elected to roam the streets of downtown at night.

But what was definitely not supposed to be happening was being awoken from your deep slumber by furious pounding on your front door.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

When you glanced groggily over at your alarm clock and saw the time, you could have screamed.

Just as you reached for your phone to call the cops on whatever psychopath was probably waking up your entire floor, your screen lit up with a text.

Suckjin [03:19]: plz open ur door

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Sliding out of bed, you hissed as your bare feet hit the cold hardwood.

This had better be fucking worth it.

Plodding out of your bedroom on tiptoes to avoid as much contact with the floor as possible, you made your way to the front door without even bothering to throw on shorts under your oversized t-shirt.

Whatever. You were sure that brat has seen thighs before.

While the knocks had thankfully quieted for a moment, he started up again just as you reached the door.

Before he could even dare bang his fist against the wood again, you were turning the deadbolt and whipping the door open, readying your fiercest glare for the broad man standing before you.

Right as you opened your mouth to start cussing him out, he sprung towards you, hands pushing you further inside your apartment and shutting the door before you could even blink.

When he turned to face you again, hands on his stomach, you prepared for the verbal onslaught you were about to send his way.

“Just what in the absolute hell do you think you’re-”

When your eyes naturally followed the path of his arms down to his stomach, what you saw there shut you up immediately.

Wide-eyed, you took a step back, eyes never leaving the sight before you. He-

As your breath quickened, a (miraculously clean) hand shot out to cover your mouth gently, though you were sure he was ready to clamp down at a moment’s notice.

“Please don’t scream.”

When you were finally able to break your gaze from his abdomen and look at his face instead, pleading eyes locked with yours, his skin paler than usual.

As frightened as you were, you calmed some when you processed the fact that he seemed to be standing before you just fine, albeit the fact that his eyes appeared somewhat unfocused.

You nodded, reaching a shaky hand up to remove his from your face, shivering at how cold and clammy he felt.

When you could speak again, you spent a few moments collecting your thoughts before you opened your mouth again.

“You - you have a knife in you!” you hissed, stepping closer to move his jacket aside to get a better look.

It wasn’t that gruesome a sight, especially not when he was wearing a black t-shirt, but it was no less jarring to have your friend show up in the middle of the night after seemingly being stabbed.

“I know that!” he hissed back, slightly exasperated, muffling a groan when you tried to inch his shirt up to glance at the skin beneath.

“Why the hell do you have a knife in you?” you whispered furiously, pulling him by the arm to settle down onto your couch.

He plopped down with a sigh of relief, his head lolling back momentarily. You hoped he knew that he was paying your cleaning bills if he bled all over your loveseat.

“Now, now, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to remove the knife if you get stabbed?” he said with a pained chuckle, sucking in a breath at the movement it caused.

“Seokjin, now is not the time to joke around,” you said, panic rising in you because you had absolutely no clue what you were supposed to do with a vampire who had a knife embedded in him. “Why did you come here?”

“Well you were the only person I could think of who would answer their door at 3 am-”

“Seokjin!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You didn’t tend to call him that unless you were genuinely annoyed, and he seemed to drop the humorous demeanor immediately.

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital?”

“I can’t go to a hospital.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Okay, correction – I didn’t want to go to a hospital.”

You let out a groan of frustration, fingers rubbing circles into your temples. This man was going to be the death of you. You had no idea why vampires seemed to have such an aversion to hospitals, but you supposed you could never understand. Despite their existence being generally accepted in society so long as they didn’t leave trails of bodies in their wake, there must have been some other reason nobody had ever shared with you.

“Seokjin, I really don’t know what to do here,” you whispered, an ounce of desperation and unease making its way into your tone. His expression softened at the sound, reaching for your hand. As much as he might have been trying to comfort you, the feeling of his hand unusually icy against yours only scared you more.

“I...” he trailed off, trying to figure out a good way to phrase this before settling on being straightforward. “...need blood.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your brow. “You literally have blood at home.”

“No, I, uhh...” he paused. “I need fresh blood to heal something like this.”

You froze. He needed fresh blood? He showed up here because he wanted... your blood?

“Aren’t there places you can go for blood?” you asked, tensing up at the notion of being bitten. It wasn’t that you were so totally opposed – it was no secret that people said it felt good. But you had never been bitten before, and you didn’t know what to think about Seokjin showing up here for that reason.

“I came here because I trust you the most,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Please. I promise I would never do this unless I had to. But please – you can say no, but tell me right now, because this hurts so much.”

Seeing his pained expression and feeling the way his fingers gripped yours like a lifeline, there was absolutely no way you were letting him back outside to roam the streets. You had no idea how this really happened to him, but despite their general acceptance, vampire hunters still existed. Like hell you were going to let easy bait walk right into their hands.

Especially not Seokjin.

“I – okay, I just – I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Biting was a pretty private, intimate thing. Most vampires drank bagged blood, with live donors only in carefully-controlled emergency clinics or heavily guarded clubs.

There was, of course, the cases of vampire-human relationships or hookups, but most people didn’t tend to share the ultra-specific details of their sex life.

Not that you had never attempted research on your own, but anecdotes you found on the internet varied so wildly that you had to wonder whether they were even telling the truth.

“I promise I can control myself. I would never put you in danger.”

“No, I know, it’s not that,” you mumbled. “Just... will it hurt?”

“Oh. No, it shouldn’t.”

“It shouldn’t? I don’t know how reassuring that is,” you chuckled nervously. You weren’t about to back out now, but you had at least hoped that he would have a straight answer for you.

He took a shaky breath, and a pang of guilt went through you for asking so many questions.

“The more attracted a vampire and donor are to each other, emotionally and physically, the better it’ll feel for you.”

“And you?”

He smirked, and curse him for making it look good despite his unfortunate... situation. “Me? I’m a vampire, it always feels good.”

Right. You might have facepalmed at the stupid question that left your own lips, but his voice momentarily distracted you from doing so.

“Anyway, I know my face isn’t a problem, so unless you secretly hate me or something, you’ll be okay,” he grinned.

“I’m so glad you can joke around right now,” you snorted derisively. “If I secretly hated you, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

“Fair.”

“Anyway, I’ll do it, just,” you winced. “Don’t call me a donor. It feels weird.”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling you closer to him. “Thank you for this. Really, I owe you.”

You sighed. “I can’t just let you bleed out somewhere in the world, can I?” You allowed him to pull you close enough that you were hovering over him with your legs touching his, and you stood awkwardly in silence. “Uhh, what should I do?”

He patted his lap in invitation and your face warmed at the notion, but you straddled his legs before your brain had time to dwell on it.

He raised a hand to nudge the collar of your shirt away from your neck, his icy fingers and the sensation of his nails on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. When his thumb rubbed gently against the warmth of your neck, you had to suppress a gasp at the surprisingly intimate touch.

When you focused your gaze on his face, his eyes were not fixed on your own, but rather on the movements of his own hand, his pupils obscenely dilated. You’d never seen him look so lustful, so hungry.

Heat undeniably flared in your core (much without your consent), and it was wishful thinking to hope that Seokjin didn’t pick up on your quickening breath or rapid heartbeat.

“I...” he whispered, trailing off before he’d even begun.

“Hm?” you answered, already feeling dazed before his fangs had even touched you.

“I need you to pull the knife out.”

Well, that certainly broke you free of your trance.

“What!? Me? You – I – me?” you stuttered in a very flattering display of eloquence.

“I’m... not sure I have the strength right now,” he admitted ruefully, and you could tell that if it were really up to him, he would be doing it himself.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

“Fine,” you murmured, raising both hands to grip firmly at the handle of the blade. “Just – don’t bite me until I put this knife down, okay? We don’t need any more... accidents.”

He failed to hold back a laugh at that, and you managed to crack a grin in response. “Okay, okay.”

To think he had you so utterly flustered and at his whim only moments ago.

“On the count of three,” you breathed, bracing yourself for something you certainly never expected anyone to ask of you. “One... two... three.”

When you reached three, you flinched your eyes shut, pulling as hard as you could in one quick burst, desperate to have this all over before it started.

The sensation was something odd and unspeakable, and you turned to toss the knife on the table behind you before you could register the uncomfortable warmth on your hands.

But the exact moment the sound of metal clattering on glass reached your ears, your head was being wrenched back by large hands, plump lips and hot breath coming into contact with your neck before you realized he’d moved.

You could barely suck in a gasp before a hand moved to grip tightly at your waist, and fangs sunk into your skin.

White-hot pain lanced through your body like electricity, and for a moment you were thinking you were done for. Seokjin was wrong, maybe he lied, and you definitely lacked the strength to push off a dying vampire determined to drink.

But just as you opened your mouth, whether to scream or cry or whatever else, you were immediately silenced, a breathy groan soon pulled from your throat.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure flowing through your limbs had you weak, your body falling limp into sensation immediately.

Clearly prepared for this outcome, Seokjin only pulled you closer to him, the hand on your waist supporting your body, a hand fisted near your scalp keeping your head back. The casual display of strength pulled a whimper from you, your body feeling hot all over.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you had to wonder when you had opened them at all, because you couldn’t recall processing a single thing visually since his fangs touched you.

You thought that would be as good as it gets, but the pleasure only kept building and building. It rendered you almost completely immobile, your world reduced to Seokjin at your neck, the broad planes of his body below yours, and the myriad of bliss flooding your veins. Heat was throbbing in your cunt, your nipples hard and almost pained as they rubbed against the roughness of your t-shirt.

You raised your hands that were sitting idle at your sides to fist into Seokjin’s shirt, giving no thought to the fact that he was gravely injured in that spot only minutes ago, fingers feeling almost numb and not registering the wetness that was there either.

“Ah - Jin,” you cried loudly as the bliss only built, tossing your head back to bare more of your neck.

He growled ferally into your skin, the sound going straight to your core. He pulled you closer still, enough that your breasts pressed harshly into his chest, your hips slotted together.

Sighing happily at the pressure right where you needed it most, you ground desperately against whatever you could feel against you. When you felt the undeniable hardness of Seokjin’s cock against your cunt and its delicious friction against your soaked-through panties, you moaned obscenely.

You felt rather than heard his gasp in response, his grip around you tightening even further, enough that you felt out of breath.

You whimpered at the restriction, his strength keeping you from grinding against him no matter how hard you tried.

You cursed him internally, but there was no way you were going to formulate words at this point, your mind completely lost to euphoric delirium.

It felt as though you were floating, head thrown back as sparks flew up your spine relentlessly.

Despite the lack of proper friction against your cunt, you could feel pressure building in your abdomen. You were close, so close, so undeniably close-

Fangs retracted from your neck, and the sudden loss was like ice water being thrown over your head. You shivered.

The tight grip on you loosened, Seokjin leaning into the back of the couch and groaning.

When you opened your eyes you almost fell over at the way the world spun, dizziness and blurry vision almost distracting you from the orgasm that seemed only moments away.

Almost.

Blinking furiously until you managed to fix your gaze onto Seokjin’s face, you sucked in a harsh breath at the sight before you.

Irises swimming with crimson, pupils blown out, chest heaving, dark hair mussed, lips painted red, fangs still visible past his parted lips – he looked the very picture of sin.

Fuck.

Though if you had a mirror, you would see that you looked just as ruined – eyes wanton and desperate, teeth gnawing into your bottom lip, dark bruises colouring your neck. If temptation were a person, it would be you, sitting in Seokjin’s lap with your soaked panties still pressed against the bulge in his pants.

As you stared at each other, it was as though time froze. Neither of you moved an inch, seemingly content to remain in some kind of intense, sensual staredown for the rest of time.

But you’d never claimed to be a patient person, and when you finally felt confident that your body was yours again, you acted.

If he wanted to push you away, he could have. His reflexes always seemed to almost predict the future, and you were positive that if he didn’t want this, he would have stopped you. He was never one to avoid voicing his discontent, even if it was masked as a self-deprecating joke. Some part of you deep down expected him to end this before it had even begun.

He didn’t.

Your lips met his in a depraved frenzy, too far gone to make any attempt at starting slow. It was rough, and it was messy, and it was desperate, and you loved it. His fangs scraped at your bottom lip and you gasped, fisting your hands into his hair as your body remembered how it felt the last time those fangs breached your skin. But as you ground your clit into the sizeable bulge in his pants again, he froze.

Just as you were about to pull away to see what caught his attention, he pushed you away first, hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasped, and it very much looked like it took all of his willpower to break away.

“What’s wrong?” you asked weakly, your head still spinning, body absolutely overcome by lust. In fact, he was looking a bit blurry again with how fast he moved you, and it took several moments of rapid blinking before you met his very concerned gaze. Nothing ever escaped him, and you were sure that your semi-weak state was very obvious to him right now.

Not that it affected how much you wanted his touch, his cock.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your brow furrowed. “I do know what I’m doing,” you said firmly – or at least, you tried, but it took far too much effort to wrap your tongue around the syllables, almost as if you were drunk.

“Y/N-”

“Why don’t you believe me?” you whined, this time sounding a bit more coherent. You tried to push toward him, but his hold was too strong. “You want it too, look at your face.”

He sighed, looking to the ceiling as though it held some answer on how to make this easier. “It’s not about whether I want it or not. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Jinnie,” you whimpered needily, reaching your hands toward the waistband of his pants. If he didn’t touch you soon, you swore that you would scream. “Please. I want it. I want you. I promise-”

He moved to snatch your hands before you could touch him, and your mouth clamped shut at the grip. His expression was almost pained for a moment before his eyes glazed over with a look that would have had you on your knees immediately.

His hand shot up to grip your chin firmly, ensuring that you couldn’t look away. Though, you didn’t think you could look away if you tried, drawn to the unspeakable darkness you found there, crimson still invading the rich brown.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and sleep for me?”

“Wh-what?” you choked out, but it was as though you’d lost control of your body, feeling as though you’d been awake for days without sleep. Your eyelids fluttered shut, but you forced them back open, groaning weakly when your vision fell upon Seokjin, his expression still dark and hungry.

You were about to open your mouth again, but something about his eyes was so captivating. Something about the red pulled you in, left you unable to think. Were his eyes always this beautiful? You wracked your brain, but came up blank. You wanted to open your mouth and ask him, but you couldn’t move a muscle. Even still, your face drew closer to his as though pulled in by a magnet.

His eyes roved over your face before meeting your gaze once more, and you missed the flash of sympathy that was present for only a moment. You were relieved when he looked at you again, fingers twitching with the urge to cup his face. You were content to look at him for the rest of time – if there was anything Seokjin had, it was time, right?

Attention focused on each other, he parted his lips, and you could have sworn your ears buzzed, desperate to hold on to every word.

“Sleep.”

Your vision went black.

--

You awoke to a hand scratching gently at your scalp, a great contrast to the relentless hammering of your head. You groaned, shoving your face further into your pillow, blocking out the light that was already worsening the ache of your skull, even with your eyes closed.

You were so comfy, so relaxed at the touch that you almost drifted right back to sleep.

Wait.

You lived alone.

Sitting up all in a rush, you gasped as the world spun. It only got worse when you forced your eyes open, a pained whine leaving your lips as even the limited light in the room only introduced more pain behind your eyes.

“Woah! It’s just me, it’s just me.” Seokjin’s voice came out in a rush, sturdy arms lowering you back to your pillow as he pulled the sheets up to shadow your face.

Right. Seokjin.

Your heartbeat calmed, recalling his arrival late last night. Though, what came next was all a blur you couldn’t bother trying to remember right now.

You heard him step away quickly, the sound of your curtains drawing completely closed having you let out a sigh of relief. His footsteps neared you again, his cool touch returning to stroke gently at your face, before moving to massage at the base of your skull.

His touch was so delicate it almost baffled you. You didn’t think he’d touch anyone like this, his displays of affection more inclined to loud compliments and playful roughhousing.

But you couldn’t deny that it felt incredible, your neck arching almost imperceptively as you leaned into his touch. The chill of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

“Are you cold?”

Blood rushed to your face at the observation, though you only gave a noncommittal noise in return. He didn’t need to know what was going on in your mind.

“My head hurts,” you mumbled quietly, a pout overtaking your lips. Seokjin had to force himself not to laugh at how cute you looked then.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replied softly, lulling you back into a half-asleep state with the gentle motions of his hand on you.

You couldn’t tell how long it was before you opened your eyes again – it could have been 2 minutes or it could have been two hours. You couldn’t even tell whether you’d drifted off or not.

It was fortunately much darker than the first time you opened your eyes, much to the relief of your headache that had faded some, but was still thudding away.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to be greeted by the golden skin of Seokjin’s chest, the shadows of the room only making it look more unreal.

You blearily blinked several times before determining that yes, that was Seokjin half-naked and perched on a kitchen chair. You tried to get words out and failed, clearing your throat before trying again.

“Where are your clothes?”

He grinned. “A bit ruined, if you recall.”

Right.

At least his pants were still on. That was best for your sanity.

“Why does my head hurt so much?” you asked, luckily able to keep your eyes open now to look at him without the pain multiplying tenfold.

He winced, his chest aching at the pained expression on your face. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

“What do you mean? Because you bit me?”

“No, not that.” He raised his free hand to scratch awkwardly at his ear.

“Huh? Why then?” All of this was so confusing. Maybe you should have done more research on vampires in your life, though you never expected to be in this sort of situation.

“I, uhh... compelled you.” He gnawed nervously at his lip, but rather than the lashing out he might have expected, you only looked at him in confusion.

“You what? Why?”

“What do you remember from last night?” he posed to you instead.

As much as you tried to recall, you couldn’t focus on anything with the state your head was in. You remembered him arriving at your house, a bit of stupid banter, getting on the couch, sitting in his lap. Then, he bit you.

Then what?

You honestly didn’t know, and you couldn’t help the fear that crept its way through you at that realization.

“You bit me...” you trailed off, looking away from his face and instead staring into the sheets near where your hands laid.

He hummed in affirmation, clearly urging you to continue.

“And then, I don’t really know,” you whispered, an edge of panic in your voice.

He sighed. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, it’ll come back.”

“Did something bad happen?” You tried to wrack your brain for possible scenarios where he would have had to compel you to do something, and you came up blank every time. What could you have done? Attacked him? Or did he go crazy at the taste of your blood and attack you? No, that didn’t make any sense – you were lying in bed feeling perfectly normal besides the headache.

What the hell happened?

“Nothing bad happened. I just... made you sleep before we did something stupid.”

It felt like the more he told you, the less you knew. Before you did something stupid? As in, did something stupid together?

There was something about the way he was choosing his words that led you to only one conclusion – in fact, he sounded an awful lot like Taehyung bemoaning his drunken hookups.

There was no way you almost fucked... right?

You’d have to know, right? There was no way you would have gone along with that... right?

It wasn’t as though you’d never had a spur of the moment one-night stand, but with Seokjin? There was absolutely no way you would’ve let that happen. A person had to protect their heart, after all.

“Stop overthinking right now, you’ll just make the pain worse.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though you didn’t know why you even tried lying. It was a bit hard to trick someone who was both a vampire and your friend.

“I can literally hear you freaking out. Please just try to rest, you’ll remember when the headache goes away.”

You sighed, trying to ease the tension in your body you didn’t even realize you had. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said confidently, his hand trailing away to rub firm circles into your shoulder instead.

“Mm.” You might have said something, but proper words evaded you at his touch. You tried focusing on him rather than the thrum of your skull, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

The expression on Seokjin’s face was one you hadn’t seen before. His eyes looked into yours with a softness that felt unfamiliar, a soft smile overtaking his lips when he saw how exhausted you looked.

“Sleep if you’re tired, princess,” he murmured, pulling the sheets up higher to cover you more. “Do you want another blanket?”

You could feel your heart speed up in your chest at the pet name and his tenderness, and you cursed the fact that there was no way to hide anything from him. At least he was polite enough not to tease you like he did your other friends.

You were so momentarily flustered that you almost forgot to respond, only nodding in response as you curled further into yourself. If you were any braver, maybe you would have asked him to join you instead.

It was only moments before he was tossing the throw from your living room over you, and it almost startled you. Sometimes you forgot how eerily fast he could move, considering he usually slowed himself to your pace whenever you were together.

You let out a contented sigh as you snuggled into the additional warmth, already feeling only half-conscious. You had just enough energy to let out a mumbled ‘thanks’ before you were drifting off again.

--

When you awoke this time, it felt as though you were an entirely new person. For starters, your head felt blissfully quiet. You were sure you would have cried if you woke up to just as much pain. There was only so much you could take in one 24-hour period. Seokjin had really done a number on your weekend, hadn’t he?

Speaking of Seokjin, he was nowhere to be seen in your bedroom. Though you were sure he was still somewhere. It wasn’t quite his style to disappear without saying goodbye, and you were even more doubtful that he would just leave after biting you.

Biting you.

At the thought, images flooded your mind faster than you could process them.

His fangs at your neck.

The relentless pleasure that invaded every fibre of your being.

Your lips on his.

Your brazen grinding against him.

And, your refusal to stop despite his words.

Holy fuck.

Was it possible to go back to when you didn’t remember and you could ignorantly lay in bed with Seokjin stroking your head?

You sat up only to bury your head in your hands, letting out a loud, embarrassed, frustrated groan while you were at it. If Seokjin didn’t know you were awake before, he surely did now. But merciful as ever, he allowed you to wallow in your mortification alone.

Was there anything worse than trying to mindlessly and basically drunkenly make your way into your friend’s pants and get denied? Your friend who you maybe found a little bit (extremely) attractive in every way, shape, and form?

Well, of course there were worse things, but to you in this moment, it certainly felt like a new low.

It took you a moment to find your footing once you’d hopped out of bed, but luckily you felt good as new otherwise. If you stayed in here alone too much longer you would certainly lose the minimal nerve you had and never leave.

In your rush to make use of your bravery, you remembered at the last moment that you were still in just your panties and shirt with no bra.

When you made it to your dresser, you paused at your reflection.

It was almost... startling how normal you looked. Though, what should you have looked like?

Baring your neck and squinting at the image in front of you, you had to scratch at your neck yourself to verify whether you were imagining it.

Aside from bruises that already seemed to be fading, there were no marks on your neck. Did it really heal that fast?

Maybe you should have been a bit embarrassed that you were so clueless on the whole subject. But in your defense, information on the internet didn’t seem to be very reliable, and vampires, for some reason, seemed to love their air of mystery. Based on the few you knew well, you were pretty sure they got a fair amount of amusement out of the misconceptions flying around.

Finally fully dressed for the first time since Seokjin showed up unannounced, you flung your door open with all the confidence you could muster.

Which is to say, you cracked your door open just enough for you to stick your head out. Much to your dismay, your eyes met Seokjin’s on the couch almost immediately, your face ducked toward the floor as you slinked your way over to the living room.

You stopped on the opposite side of the table, the sight of the stained knife there definitely not helping in your hope to distract yourself from what a fool you’d made of yourself the night before.

Out of curiosity, your gaze shot up to examine his abdomen.

You didn’t know why the perfectly smooth and unblemished muscle you found there was of any surprise to you after the night you’ve had, but it was. There wasn’t a single trace of any injury or blood on him – in fact, he looked much cleaner than when he got here. Did he use your shower?

A throat clearing had your eyes instinctively locking with his, an amused smile playing over his features that shot embarrassment through your veins. Of course the one time your ogling was purely scientific, he had to catch you and make fun of you.

You couldn’t stop your sight from drifting back down, the concept of there being absolutely no trace of anything happening to him boggling your mind.

“You really...” you trailed off, eyes darting back and forth across his bare skin one last time just to be sure. “You really healed, just like that?”

He only nodded, tapping the unbroken skin for emphasis. “You can heal me, I can heal you. Convenient, isn’t it?”

You nodded back in response, silence taking over the room quickly. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do to fill it. You’ve never experienced an awkward silence with Seokjin before, his charming nature always keeping everyone around him comfortable. This sort of energy in the room with him... it was unsettling.

“Y/N,” Seokjin called out once the silence went on a moment too long for his liking. “Can you come sit with me?”

He scooted over to make plenty of room for you, but you felt almost frozen in place. Did he really want your company after you’d pretty much jumped him? Was he sitting you down so he could let you down easy, tell you that this has been real, but he refused to associate with someone with so little self-control?

You must have stood there staring for longer than you thought, because an unreadable expression crossed his face before he spoke up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

Huh?

“No!” you blurted out, your volume clearly surprising him. “Well, a little?”

“Oh.” If you weren’t paying such close attention to him, you would have missed the hurt that flashed in his eyes. But you didn’t.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” you said hurriedly. You wanted to smack yourself for being such a blatant mess. “I’m just... scared,” you finished weakly.

His gaze softened immediately, and he had to restrain himself from hopping over the table between you to pull you into his arms. You looked like you were trying to shrink into yourself, your shoulders pulled towards your chest, hands wringing nervously in front of you.

“Did you think I would be upset?” he asked softly. He leaned forward, earnest expression on his face.

That was an understatement. You could live with “drunkenly” coming onto someone, but you didn’t know what you would do if it ended up costing you your friendship. Maybe you were being overly dramatic, but you never claimed to be the most rational person.

You nodded slowly, your vision dropping to stare at the floor, hands wrapped around your middle, squeezing as you struggled to maintain composure. You didn’t know why your heart was beating a mile a minute, your palms uncomfortably sweaty. You usually didn’t feel this level of fear when confronting a mistake that, to a normal person, shouldn’t be such an obscenely big deal as you were making it. But Seokjin was certainly not a normal person to you, and any situation that lowered his opinion of you was one you would do anything to avoid.

“Hey.” The sudden gentle hand on your chin made you squeak, and you would have stumbled in your rush to step backward if not for the steadying hand on your shoulder.

You always seemed to forget that he could move so quickly and silently. Your heart might stop at this rate if he wasn’t careful.

His thumb stroked at your jaw as if he hadn’t just seen you nearly fall flat on your ass, softly tapping under your chin until you met his gaze.

“I promise I’m the furthest thing from mad right now. Nothing is even your fault, okay?”

“But-”

“No buts. Let’s talk, but I’m not upset. Okay?” he urged, eyes not leaving yours until you nodded. The smile he gave in return made you feel warm, the tenderness in his gaze doing things to your heart, the hint of a smile ghosting your lips.

The hand on your shoulder nudged you toward him, the other opening wide to welcome you into a hug.

You went easily, your arms wrapping around his bare waist as you tucked your face into his chest. The relief you felt at his reassurance was immense, and you melted into his touch. It was almost strange how well you fit together.

“Let’s sit,” he said, kind yet firm. He led you over to the couch, settling himself down into the spot where he seemed to have spent much of the past day in.

You didn’t know what possessed you to straddle his lap in the way you did last night. Maybe it was the way he looked at you warmly without judgment, or the way your body craved his nearness after getting a taste of his touch. But whatever it was, he didn’t push you away – rather, he reached for your hands, interlacing his fingers with your own.

This position wasn’t the most “innocent” to begin with, but with the memories of last night rushing through your head, of his teeth at your neck and the pleasure you felt, your breath sped up.

With the expression on Seokjin’s face, you were sure he must have been thinking the same thing, hungry eyes flickering from your lips back up to your waiting gaze. Unlike you, however, he didn’t seem at all embarrassed.

“Are you confused?” he asked suddenly.

Caught off guard by the sudden question, your brows furrowed. Though you didn’t know just exactly what he was referring to, what will all that happened, but your answer was still the same regardless.

You nodded hesitantly, but he didn’t speak, your puzzled expression telling him that you were still working things out in your head. The silence stretched on until you finally spoke up again.

“You didn’t tell me it would be like... that.” Euphoric. Dreamlike. Intense. No matter what word you used, it still didn’t feel enough to encompass what you experienced the night before. You’d never experienced white-hot physical and even emotional pleasure like that, not in all your years of life.

You dropped your gaze down to your joined hands, watching the way he fiddled with your fingers as he pondered his next words. It felt unusual to have a conversation with him in this way – you both tended to be people who said what they thought without thinking on it too much, with friends at least. But it was reassuring to see him so serious, to see that he really did care.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was a possibility,” he finally said. He sounded confident in his words, but you found it odd that he was fidgeting so much. He hadn’t stopped moving his hands since taking hold of yours, and even his legs were starting to shift beneath yours. Why did he seem so nervous?

“What does that mean?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he responded instead, leaving you staring at him, baffled.

“Huh?” you replied, immediately defensive.

You didn’t have the smallest idea of what that question meant, but he fixed his gaze on you inquisitively. Did he think you had some big secret or something? Sure, he didn’t know everything about your life, but there was nothing so exceptional about you that not mentioning it would be some sort of betrayal.

“Uhh, never mind.”

“What do you mean, never mind? You can’t just ask me something like then and then say that,” you huffed, lips forming a thin line.

“Sorry I just thought – do you remember what I told you when you asked if it would hurt?”

You swore he was going to give you whiplash with his questions, but at least this one was easy to answer.

“Sure, you said the closer two people are the better it feels. Something like that, right?”

“Right, so, uhh, it wouldn’t normally feel that intense, you know?”

The fact that he definitely seemed to know exactly what was going on and kept beating around the bush was more than a little bit frustrating. Considering he was normally as straightforward as a person could get, though, you opted to simple stare expectantly at him. But if he didn’t cut to the point in approximately 20 seconds, your annoyance would just about outweigh your concern.

“It shouldn’t feel that way unless you liked me back,” he finally said, all in one breath.

You could only blink blankly as you processed his words, but when it clicked, you went from mildly annoyed to incredibly flustered all in the same second.

“HUH?! Wait, back?” You could almost feel your headache coming back with how many directions this conversation has taken in less than 15 minutes. Your hands were starting to feel disgustingly clammy in his, but neither of you moved to separate them.

“I know this is so sudden, and I didn’t expect to be outed like this either and it doesn’t have to mean anything, like I know I like you a lot, like a lot a lot, but I don’t really know how much you feel about me or if it’s even that significant or just a passing attraction because either is possible and I’m really sorry if this made everything awkward-”

His ridiculously fast words were cut off by your newly-free hand clamping down over his mouth, plump lips tickling your skin as he stared at you, wide-eyed. You were sure if you tried this any other time he would (playfully) smack you, but he only stared.

“Really?” you whispered. To be completely honest, you never realistically considered a relationship, or even just a hook-up with Seokjin. You found him wholly and insanely attractive, but didn’t everyone? And it wasn’t that he was a vampire and you were a human – it was laughable to believe that you’d think that long-term anyway.

No, you just never saw him being that into you. He was almost ethereally beautiful, got along well with everyone, and had one of the most charming personalities you’d ever seen. His physique wasn’t even something that needed to be mentioned. With all that considered, all you ever cared to do was admire him from afar, content to have him as a close friend. It wasn’t as though he’d ever sent you hints that he wanted otherwise, either.

So to hear that your stupid little harmless crush could actually amount to anything?

You thought things couldn’t get any more unexpected.

When he nodded his confirmation, you couldn’t keep the grin from overtaking your face.

The giddiness clear on your face and the adorable sparkle in your eye sent unquantifiable relief through him, and the second you removed your hand, he opened his mouth to speak.

But somehow you were quicker than him, your lips meeting his before a single syllable could be uttered.

Unlike last night, you didn’t kiss him like you wanted to devour him, or like your body would light on fire if you couldn’t get as close as possible. This was calmer, slower, but it didn’t take long for that to change.

His fangs weren’t out this time, but that didn’t change the fact that you gasped as soon as his teeth dug into your bottom lip. Sparks shot up your spine at the sensation, your mind unable to stop thinking about what you felt the last time you were in this same position. How good it felt to be helpless to the pleasure battering down on you, held in place by strong hands and strong arms.

He’d probably ruined teeth for you for the rest of your life.

You let him do whatever he wanted, and he groaned into your mouth when you tangled your hands in his hair. Hands gripped your ass tightly and squeezed, pulling you in closer to him.

His hands didn’t even wander much further than that, but heat flared in your core regardless. When he raised his hips to brush the bulge in his pants against your aching centre, you could only moan and grind down onto him.

The pressure against your clit through the thin material of your shorts cut off every possible train of thought, and you were pretty sure that after all this, these panties would never recover.

You felt goosebumps raise on your flesh when a hand rose, nails scraping against your scalp. You arched your neck back ever-so-slightly, and Seokjin didn’t miss a beat in detaching from your lips to mouth at the skin above your collarbone instead.

He wasn’t gentle in the way he sucked bruises into your skin, a firm hand holding your head in place while the other held your thigh, his confined length rubbing languidly into your core. You whined and tightened your grip in his hair at the brush of teeth against skin, but much to your displeasure, he pulled away from you before clothes even started coming off.

“Wait.”

“Whyyyy?” you whined petulantly. Was he really going to do this to you again? You knew he was definitely in the right to stop things last night, but there was only so much you could take.

He bit back a smirk at your neediness, thumbing gently at your protruding bottom lip as he resisted the urge to tease you for your cuteness. This soft and pouty side of you was new to him, and he swore something fluttered in his chest.

“You should eat something, princess.”

“Huh?” you blinked, confused. You were about to protest when he spoke up again.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh... dinner last night? Maybe 7? 8?”

He leaned in toward you, but rather than kiss you again, he reached for the table behind you. You craned your neck to see what he was doing, and frowned when he grabbed for his phone. Your bewilderment at what he was doing didn’t last long, however, his phone screen displaying the time for you in large, white font.

5:32 pm.

“Holy shit, I slept for that long?” You stared at him wide-eyed. No wonder he took a shower and everything. You were surprised he was sat there waiting for you for all those hours without complaint.

He looked a bit sheepish, tossing his phone to the side and leaning back into the couch, tugging you with him comfortably. At this point the fire you felt had been dimmed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still a bit irritated at being denied twice in a row.

“Ah, that would be my fault... the compulsion really gave you hell,” he winced, stroking gently at your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“It’s fine, I feel okay. Wasn’t that my fault anyway?” Your face felt hot thinking back to your behaviour and the lack of restraint you showed, hand rubbing nervously at the back of your neck.

“Of course not,” he assured quickly. “It’s not exactly something easy to resist. But if you regret it, I’m really sor-”

“I don’t regret it!” you cut him off, immediately wanting to pinch yourself for being so loud. And hasty. And embarrassing. And horny. “I’m... I’m happy right now.” Your volume seemed to die as confidence left you, but Seokjin only beamed.

“I’m happy too,” he said simply, tone laced with sincerity. “But you need to eat, I can practically hear your intestines screaming from here.”

“What?!” Strange tension successfully killed, your hands covered your abdomen instinctively as though you could shield yourself from his vampire ears. “Can you actually?”

He let you stare at him in alarm for only a few seconds before he couldn’t hold his giggles back anymore.

“Not really, but you should have seen your face. Why are you so worried about it?”

You huffed, shoulders deflating at his teasing. “I don’t know! That has to be a breach of privacy or something. Who gave you the right to listen to my intestines?”

“I can already hear your heart just fine, would it really matter so much?”

The smile dropped from his lips within a second, and the sudden intensity in his gaze had you frozen. The energy in the room shifted in an instant, and you were at a complete loss for words.

You thought he was going in for a kiss when he leaned closer, but instead his nose went to nuzzle at your neck, trailing up into your hairline. The warm air he exhaled into your ear made you shiver, pressing yourself ever so closer to his bare chest. You didn��t know how he managed to work you up within seconds, but you felt so hot despite his cool touch, baring your neck for him.

“I can hear the way your heart speeds up when I get close...” he whispered, mouthing lazily at your soft skin before sucking harshly. Unsure of what to do with yourself, your nails dug into his biceps, breath unsteady.

“I can hear the way the blood rushes through your veins, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” A hand rose to palm at your breast, bare beneath the worn cotton of your shirt. You arched your back as he harshly rolled a hard nipple between his fingers.

“I can hear the way you lose your breath, your tiny little gasps...” You couldn’t hide the way you twitched when sharp fangs scraped against your skin, a whimper nearly making its way from your throat. “Just like that.”

“And just so you know...” His voice was like honey, warm and smooth and sweet, and you hung onto his every word. “I can hear the way your stomach is growling right now too.”

The noise you let out that moment was inhumane, somewhere between a squeak and a scream of disbelief.

He broke away from you with a blaring laugh, shoulders bouncing beneath your grip.

You moved to slap at his chest, but your hand was caught easily, and his laughter only continued. God, you were going to kill this man. Again.

Your face felt obscenely hot, and you could feel a pout overtaking your lips at the sight of him still giggling away in front of you.

“Jinnie,” you whined, choosing to display your discontent by breaking free of his grip and hopping up out of his lap.

Which was definitely not the correct choice, because you swore you could feel the rush of blood through your ears before a strong sense of vertigo washed over you, groan escaping your lips. You were sure you would have fallen face first into the floor if not for Seokjin’s steadying.

“Woah, do you feel okay? This is why I told you to eat,” he sighed, maneuvering you to lay down comfortably on the couch, sticking pillows under your head. “Just stay here and I’ll make food, okay?”

“No, wait, I can make it-”

As you attempted to push back up off the couch, he only gently pushed down with a quiet ‘tsk’ and shake of his head. As you opened your mouth to further protest, he leaned in close, the softness of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Be a good girl and let me take care of you, hm?”

Your breath hitched at his sudden words, only able to stare wide-eyed when he pulled away from you enough to take in your face. The look in his eyes could only be described as devious – amused yet hardened, and you didn’t know if you were imagining the crimson bleeding into the brown of his irises.

“There goes that heartbeat again,” he murmured as though sharing a secret, the tender motion of his hand on your cheek in stark contrast to the want etched into his expression. “You’re going to be so much fun to ruin.”

--

For someone who didn’t really need to eat food to survive (though you’d been told time and time again that eating was fun), Seokjin made one hell of a good cook. Granted, egg fried rice wasn’t the most difficult nor time-consuming dish to make, but that didn’t make it any less tasty. In fact, you were grateful for such a simple and light dish, because you learned quite quickly that after an entire day without food, rushing to eat only brought nausea and discomfort.

Leaning against the armrest of the couch, the inside of your bowl was all you could see with how close you were holding it to your face. In your defence, though, you were greatly disinterested in the possibility of needing to clean a stain from your cushions.

As you took your time eating, Seokjin opted to tidy up a bit, dishes clanging in the kitchen before you heard him rearranging his shoes at the front door.

Thankfully, his efforts included removing the knife from your table and putting it god-knows-where, but you were just glad it was out of your line of sight. Maybe he thought that it was better for your appetite to remove the thing you’d literally pulled out of him.

You tried not to let your mind linger on just how... strange that felt.

He somehow managed to clean up before you’d even finished eating, the couch dipping beside you as he settled into his spot. Vampire speed truly was startling.

If you didn’t have your entire field of vision blocked, you might have noticed Seokjin’s fond look as you ate your meal at what could only be described as a forced snail’s pace. He had to suppress a chuckle at how antsy you seemed to be, clearly wanting to just shovel food into your mouth, but knowing you would only suffer for it. How did one person manage to be so cute and yet so seductive?

When you were done, you set the bowl down on the table with a satisfied sigh, jumping in surprise when a glass of water was placed into your newly-emptied hands almost immediately.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly, face feeling hot at his attentiveness. You didn’t know how to react at having a man like Kim Seokjin doting on you. It was almost – no, it was – unbelievable, and your poor heart didn’t know how to act. It was one thing to have him kiss you like he was going to devour you, and another to be this sweet and this caring and this soft.

Setting the empty glass next to your empty bowl, you leaned back, unsure of what to do with yourself now that you were entirely unoccupied. Seokjin’s presence beside you made you increasingly aware of the awkward shifting of your hands and your uneasy breathing. He wasn’t that close to you and yet you could smell him – you didn’t know how he managed to make your floral scented shampoo smell sexy.

“Why are you so nervous?” he said lowly, nudging you into his side and tossing an arm around your shoulders. It was a simple move, and yet all you could think was how big he was, how easily he completely enveloped you in his hold.

“I-I’m not nervous,” you stuttered, and you could feel the blood rush to your face. You wondered if he could hear that, too.

A hand lifted your face in his direction, and you were met with an expression that very clearly read ‘are you really going to try lying to a vampire?’

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you amended, biting into your lower lip. His gaze followed the motion, eyes clouding over.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his thumb raising to release your lip from your teeth, the movement intimate enough to set your stomach aflutter.

“Are we asking that now?” you responded smartly, grinning when Seokjin only huffed a laugh.

“Let me be clearer then,” he said lowly, the abrupt commanding tone having you sit up straighter. “Can I kiss you, strip you, take you to bed, taste that sweet pussy on my tongue, and then fuck you?”

Heat flared in you at the words, your fingernails scratching against his chest before remembering he wasn’t wearing a shirt for you to yank him closer. You settled for making a beeline for his mouth, but a quick movement to grip your hair at the scalp kept you from getting close enough.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, holding you still as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, humming in content when he brushed right against the spot he bit you yesterday. “Tell me yes or no, princess.”

You nodded with what freedom you had left – not much, with how tight his hold on you was, tiny pricks of pain sending sparks up and down your spine. His other hand pulled you closer to him, your hips halfway straddling him as he mouthed at your neck, acting as though he hadn’t noticed your response. It was clear that he was waiting for you to say something.

“Yes,” you said quietly, nearly forgetting what the question was from the way he was sucking softly at your neck. At the scrape of fangs against your skin, you only pushed back against the hand in your hair, exposing more of your neck with a soft sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” he taunted, pulling you fully on top of him, his hard cock right against your core, and you wished that clothing wasn’t separating you.

He pressed those fangs against the soft skin below your ear, hard enough that the pain had you wincing, but not enough to break skin.

He was teasing you, and you were putty in his hands.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” he breathed, tonguing lazily over the stinging marks he left behind. You could only whimper and squirm in his hold, hands tangling in his silken hair. You didn’t know whether you wanted to pull him away or push him closer.

“To have you moaning in rapture right in my lap, so desperate for my cock, the taste of you on my lips...” His voice was so low you could barely hear it, barely process it, but the absolutely lust in his voice only spurred new waves of arousal in you. “Hearing you beg like that, fuck-”

He cut himself off with a sinful moan as he shifted his hips to rub himself right against your cunt, and you shuddered in response.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone so bad,” he sighed, breathing unsteady as he used his grip on you to rock you in time to his movements. “I’ve never had such a test of self-control. Maybe I should punish you.”

This voice was teasing, but your reaction was real, and there was no way to hide the way a moan escaped or the way your nails dug crescents into Seokjin’s smooth skin.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” he chuckled darkly as he leaned his head back into the couch, the grip in your hair tightening even more. A helpless whine left your lips, and you became uncomfortably aware of the way your panties were sticking to your folds.

“Tell me, do you think I should punish you?” he asked, his honeyed voice lulling you into a state you couldn’t even begin to explain with words.

You tried nodding again, hissing at the flash of pain when you tried move your head from his grip.

“Princess, haven’t you learned to use your words? I think I’ll bend you over my knee right here. What do you think about that?”

“Please,” you gasped without hesitation, freezing when you fluttered your eyelids open to meet his gaze.

If you weren’t sure whether his eyes were laced with red before, it was evident now. It only made him all the more enticing, and your vision fell down to his mouth instinctively when he ran his tongue over his teeth. A pang of heat went through you when his fangs bit into his lip, and before you were thinking about it, a hand rose to brush against his mouth.

Your thumb grazed a fang almost reverently, and Seokjin only watched on fondly at the wonderment on your face. You supposed it might have been strange to touch your friend’s – boyfriend’s? – teeth like this, but you had always been curious. Hell, you hadn’t even seen fangs in person before last night. As far as you knew, they only extended when feeding or when feeling strong emotions, and neither tended to be something you could casually see on the street.

You bit at your lip when sharpness pushed into the pad of your finger, but his next words broke you free of your reverie.

“Bend over then.”

He released you from his grip dizzyingly fast, leaning back to watch you.

You were surprised at yourself with how quickly you situated your ass over his lap, the self-consciousness you would’ve expected to be feeling wholly absent. Seokjin was just that captivating.

You wiggled your way into a comfortable position, sticking a cushion under your head. Now that your ass was sticking out right into his view, you felt more vulnerable than ever, knowing that his eyes and ears were trained on your every movement and reaction.

Hands pushed your long shirt up over your hips, fingers trailing lightly over the globes of your ass, separated only by the thin fabric of your shorts. But not for long.

Fingers reached under your waistband and tugged down before you could react, yanking your shorts and panties down in one go.

With air suddenly hitting your sodden pussy, you could feel heat rise to your face at how exposed you found yourself. But any thought of shifting and hiding was erased when you heard Seokjin’s loud groan.

“Shit, you’re soaked, smell so fucking good,” he hissed, fingers reaching to push messily through your folds.

You couldn’t see him putting his fingers in his mouth, but the depraved moan he let out afterward had you squirming in his lap.

After your shorts and panties were pushed onto the floor, a large hand ran tenderly over the skin of your ass, fingers digging in slightly.

“Is ten on each side too much for you?” he asked. There was no hint of teasing in his tone, his voice firm. He continued his soft stroking as he waiting for an answer.

“Uhh... I don’t really know?” you responded meekly. Sure, you had been spanked before, but it was never this... structured? To be honest, you didn’t really know what “a lot” would be in terms of numbers.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’ll work our way up and see how it feels. Is that okay?”

You nodded at first, but quickly let out an ‘okay’ when you remembered how firm he was on a proper response.

“This means I’m trusting you to be honest and tell me to stop if it’s too much. I want you to feel good.”

“Okay.”

You released tension you didn’t realize you’d had at his reassurances, allowing your limbs to loosen as you adjusted to lay more comfortably. The sensation of his hands on you made you feel safe and secure, and you knew for a fact that for all his hard words and cold stares, he was still always searching for your approval.

You twitched in surprise as a few light swats came down on each cheek, almost as though he was testing the motion. But after being briefly taken off guard, you relaxed under his hands, body already warming up at each light blow. You barely felt anything aside from a faint sting, but you could already feel your cunt throbbing, anticipation having you dig your nails into the cushion beneath you.

But even despite his preparation, the first real blow had you gasping. Not because it was overly painful – in fact, those pinpricks of pain were laced with pleasure, radiating outward from where his palm had firmly struck you. No, it was more that with the control and precision he showed, another realization struck you at that moment.

He really knew what he was doing.

This wasn’t just a college boyfriend who wanted to experiment with things he saw in porn, or a random bar hookup who thought he was more than he was.

No, Seokjin was the epitome of calculated control, had you eating out of the palm of his hand with one simple word. One look and you were his.

And fuck, if that didn’t make you melt.

You sighed happily as a hit came down on your other asscheek, another wave of arousal soaking your cunt.

“Do you want it harder?” he asked, voice low. The tone felt almost like a personal attack, honeyed words piercing your eardrums.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Yes or no. Don’t just agree to do things because I suggest it,” he scolded, punishing you with a swat to your upper thigh that stung sharper than his previous blows.

“Yes, I want it.”

“Hm,” he hummed, nails scratching over your skin, just barely missing the heat of your core. “I think I would be more convinced if you begged.”

As much as most of your embarrassment had already faded, what with being bent over Seokjin’s lap, it took so much more to put your desires verbally out into the world. But the throbbing in your cunt was fierce, and the warmth from his previous strikes was already fading. And you wanted more.

“Please,” you whined weakly before taking a deep breath to amp yourself up. “Please, Jinnie, I want it harder.”

You barely had time to process the tiny chuckle he let out before his palm came down on you again, the additional force behind it making you shiver despite the warmth that spread through you.

You didn’t know exactly how many more times his hand struck your ass, but your quiet moans were interrupted by his voice once again.

“Harder?”

As much as you felt good, it still wasn’t enough. The sting wasn’t enough, the heat wasn’t enough. You wanted more, needed more.

“Yes, please.”

“Mm, there you go. Maybe I should do this more often if you’re going to be such a good girl for me after.”

He punctuated his statement with a harsh blow to your ass, the strength of it forcing a moan from your lungs. A hand stroked tenderly over where it had struck, before doing the same to the other cheek. You whimpered as you felt another gush of wetness spill from your cunt, squirming as another strike rained down.

Yes, this is what you wanted.

The feeling was heady, your mouth open and allowing all the sounds to spill from your lips. Every cell in your body felt hot, from your fingertips down to your toes. You were certain you must have been making a mess of his lap with how wet you were.

You didn’t realize how heavily you were breathing until the smacks stopped, fingers gently kneading at the raw skin instead. Your skin felt almost burned, but more than anything, you needed those hands to slip between your legs. Now that there was nothing else to distract you, your neglected pussy was desperate for something, anything.

“How are you?” he asked several moments later.

His continued soothing touch dampened the fire of your skin before long, but that only furthered your arousal, shifting in his lap in search of some relief. You itched for some pressure on your clit, but it wasn’t possible in the position he had you in.

“Good,” you breathed, pressing back into his touch.

“Good.” He let his fingers creep ever-so-closer to where you needed him most, rubbing against where your wetness had spread, just beside your outer folds. “I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?”

“Please,” you whined immediately, but luckily, he didn’t seem interested in making you wait any longer. Maybe it was the fact that he had been waiting just as long, or that he was just tired of your constant fidgeting in his lap.

A finger slid in without resistant – unsurprisingly, what with the way you could feel the air hitting your slick skin. Your walls clamped down on the intrusion immediately, and another finger slid down to rub tiny circles onto your clit.

You whined in relief, but Seokjin unfortunately held you down to keep you from thrusting back onto his hand.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured, slipping another finger in when he felt how easily you took the first.

As much as one didn’t feel like enough, two of his fingers was so much bigger than your own. The stretch had you gasping, the friction against your walls and clit making you moan out.

As he scissored his fingers inside of you, the slight burn had you hissing, though the constant ministrations on your clit made sure the pain never became your focus.

“Mm, are you sure you can take my cock?” he mused, smirking at the way you were already whimpering, increasing the pace of his thrusts as your moans got more frequent.

“I can!” you blurted out, sounding almost offended. He had to stifle a laugh. You had always been fun to rile up, and sex was no exception.

“Hm, okay,” he hummed, amusement colouring his tone. You almost called him out on it before his fingers pulled out of you abruptly.

“Jin-”

Before you could question him, beg him to come back, hold him against you – three fingers started easing their way inside of you.

You tensed up almost immediately at the harsher burn at your entrance, the stiffness of your body not doing you much of a favour. He paused all movement at your struggle.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

His words had you feeling more at ease, a reminder that he was here, he wanted you to feel good, and he only kept on making that fact clear.

You made a noise of agreement, forcing your muscles to relax despite how much they wanted to clamp down. You wanted his cock, after all. You could take his fingers.

He took his time with you, slowly easing his fingers in and scissoring them apart, all the while his other hand resting beneath your abdomen, rubbing into your clit. You keened under his continuous murmured praise, moaning as he began to thrust his fingers.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his own breaths beginning to get heavy as he watched you twitch and whine at his hand.

Once the discomfort passed, your pleasure crested ridiculously fast with how long you’ve been waiting to be touched, filled. He stretched you open so wide, and you clenched around his digits at the thought of those fingers being his cock instead.

You were easily giving yourself away with how your walls were clamping down more and more, heavier gasps leaving you. The stroking at your clit wasn’t getting any slower, and soon enough you felt like you were going to snap.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, princess?” he asked roughly, his voice showing an uncharacteristic lack of control as he spread his fingers wide again.

“Please,” you said feebly, all other words having left your available vocabulary long ago. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you, baby.” The crook of his fingers took you by surprise, and with one, two, strokes against that spongy spot within you, you were gone.

Your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs, your legs going weak as waves of bliss hit you everywhere at once. His hands on you didn’t stop their motions, only sending new waves up your spine, shivers wracking your body as you grasped the closest object tightly – your nails digging into the cushion beneath you.

He only stopped when you started to squirm away as pain took over the pleasure, a whimper escaping as his fingers were removed.

If you thought you were getting a moment to breathe, you were wrong.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled.

Before you could blink, you were on your back, his lips attacking yours in a frenzy.

The grip he had on your thigh was sure to bruise, his still-clothed cock rocking into your sensitive pussy as he consumed your every thought, every desire.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the realization only building the fire that had already been relit within you.

You allowed him to pull the shirt from your body, your skin left completely bare beneath his.

His gaze was somewhere between reverent and demonic, and he looked almost ready to pounce back on you before he paused.

“Bed?” His voice sounded strained, and you thought briefly back to what he said about how much self-control the past day has required from him. You glanced down at the bulge in his pants, and you had to keep yourself from grabbing at it, eager to give him his pleasure the same way he’d done for you.

“Okay.”

You didn’t think your lips formed the second syllable before you were being scooped up, your arms looping around his neck to steady yourself from the abrupt movement.

The walk to the bedroom was somewhat of a blur, your stomach lurching at the speed with which he moved. You’d known the man was quick, but experiencing it firsthand was partly unsettling, and partly... strangely sexy.

Your back hit the sheets with unexpected force, your body bouncing back up from the impact. You’d never considered strength to be such a significant turn-on, but combined with everything else about him, it seemed to make Seokjin the most dangerously attractive man you’ve ever encountered.

You thought you were about to get fucked into the mattress – the hunger in Seokjin’s stare only cementing the thought – but it seemed that he had other ideas.

“Jin-”

You were about to beg him to touch you, fuck you, do literally anything – when his hands wrapped around your ankles, spreading your legs apart enough that you could begin to feel the strain in your thighs.

The way he was gazing at your fully exposed core almost made you self-conscious before you took in the way his breathing was heavier than you’d ever seen it, the crimson completely having taken over the brown of his irises.

“I have – I have to taste you,” he groaned.

He sprung on you in an instant, plush lips wrapping around your clit and sucking before his tongue moved down to lap at your arousal.

While you were still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm, the discomfort was nothing in comparison to the bliss lighting up your nerves. You were a slave to pleasure under his tongue, hands holding you down as you attempted to buck up into him instinctively.

His tongue attacked you like a man starved, his unabashed moans into your heat leaving you gasping.

But as much as he was successfully making you lose your mind, you didn’t want to cum like this.

“Jin, fuck-” you whimpered, body aching to grind up into his face despite your next words.

He only hummed into your pussy at your noises, motions not pausing whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, a hand winding into his hair in an attempt to pull him off you.

You almost thought he was pretending not to hear you when he didn’t react straightaway, but not long after, he pulled off of you.

He didn’t even say a word in response, only shucking off his pants and boxers with a heaving chest.

You swore your pussy throbbed when you saw his cock, only moreso when he fisted it with a hiss, lips that were glistening with your arousal widening to reveal sharp white fangs.

“I have to be inside you right fucking now,” he snarled, dragging your body down by the thighs to meet him where he knelt.

You felt almost feverish, your hands reaching to yank Seokjin by the shoulders, the need to be closer taking over your every thought.

He kissed you frantically as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit, your back arching up into him, his closeness still not close enough for you.

You were so close to pleading with him not to draw this out, but he settled himself against your entrance, his other arm supporting himself by your head. When he started to push in, you could only whimper.

You knew he was big when he grasped himself in his hand only moments before, but for all his preparation, it felt like you were being split open.

You clung onto his biceps as he rocked himself forward at a snail’s pace, nails digging into his skin as you clamped down on him reflexively. It burned, but you wanted it so bad. As much as the discomfort was intense, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, unable to stop panting into Seokjin’s mouth.

You whined as he nibbled at your bottom lip, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles into your thigh, the other in your hair. But when you felt fangs puncture your lip ever-so-slightly before he sucked it into his mouth, all breath was stolen from you.

It was only the smallest fraction of the pleasure you felt the night before, but that was enough to have your head thrown back, hips raising to meet Seokjin’s.

It almost seemed that he wasn’t expecting you to thrust upward onto him, a strangled groan leaving his throat as you shoved more of him inside you.

The stretch remained overwhelming, but the pain felt like a distant memory, new arousal making the glide smoother.

“Good?” he gasped against your collarbone, hot breaths hitting your skin as his hair brushed against your face. The arm holding him up was trembling at your side, the fingers on your thigh tightening their hold as if to physically hold himself together.

Part of you just wanted him to lose control.

“So good,” you moaned, shoving your hips up again, volume increasing exponentially when he allowed you to push him in to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he growled, arm moving to form a bruising grip on your other thigh, his chest moving away from yours. “Are you that desperate for it?”

The question was accompanied by a sharp snap of his hips that sent you reeling, too breathless for any sound to escape.

He spread your thighs apart even further, a hand beneath your left knee lifting your leg towards his chest.

The next quick thrust hit you even harder at that angle, a choked-out whine escaping you. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he ground himself into you, your pussy feeling split so overwhelmingly wide.

You were wound up so tight, you thought you were going to go crazy. It was impossible to think straight when he only did quick snaps of his hips at random intervals. You didn’t think you’d ever been hornier than this moment, and you swore you could feel the arousal leaking from your cunt.

You could see sparks of light behind your eyelids with how tightly you had them shut. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, the flesh still tender from Seokjin’s bite.

His thrusts became slow and deep, tiny gasps leaving your open mouth.

“Look at me,” he snarled suddenly, the sheer command in his voice sending shivers up your spine, gaze snapping onto him immediately. It took a moment for your vision to focus properly, still drowning in the sensation of his cock still moving within you.

If you thought he looked fierce, hungry, dangerous – you were his polar opposite.

To put it simply, you were a mess.

You were too lost in it all to notice the stutter in his hips when he locked eyes with you, but he almost stopped breathing entirely.

Your eyes were glazed over in pleasure, the tears just beginning to gather there only making their colour all the more enticing. Your expression was slack, and it looked like you couldn’t decide between clamping down on your bottom lip or leaving your mouth wide-open. You looked so vulnerable, so willing to put all of your trust in him to take care of you, make you feel good.

And fuck, if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

His movements after that caught you off guard, his abrupt rough thrusting engulfing your body in flames of bliss, loud moan leaving you. As much as holding his gaze made everything feel so much more intense, you just couldn’t. Your head fell back onto the pillow, back arching as much as he would allow you to move in his tight hold.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice sounding almost helpless and he continued his movements, his arms the only thing keeping you from shifting up the mattress. As his gasps transitioned to groans and then loud moaning, you could feel yourself nearing your peak again.

He slowed his movements, the heavy panting reaching your eardrums and having you clench around him instinctively. The choked-out groan in response told you he was close, too.

“Jin,” you called out, the word so breathy that you almost didn’t recognize it despite it coming from your own lips.

You raised an arm to weakly grab at his body, hoping he got the message himself. You wanted him close, but highly doubted that you could manage to form the words right now.

Luckily, he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, dropping your leg and moving to hover over you, your breasts brushing his chest. He started thrusting slowly again, his head dropping to your collarbone as a hand wound into the hair at your scalp.

With him right on top of you, his pubic bone was brushing against your clit, the added stimulation having you whine loudly and dig your nails harshly into the skin of his back.

He didn’t seem to mind, a loud groan leaving him as he started mouthing at your neck, sucking bruises into the flesh.

But when you felt fangs briefly scrape over your skin, only one thought came to mind and refused to leave.

You wanted it, wanted his fangs to sink into you, wanted to feel that again. Now.

“Bite me,” you whimpered, pushing your head into the pillow and arching your back, eager to give him free reign as your orgasm inched closer and closer.

You expected him to protest, expected him to deny you, expected him to pull away.

But he did none of those things.

Instead, fangs sunk deeply into your neck with a feral growl, almost as soon as he heard the words leave your lips.

That same immense burst of pain rendered you motionless for a split second before that all-consuming euphoria descended on you.

You vaguely registered Seokjin moaning loudly above you as his hips stuttered, his lips locked on your neck. But you felt almost disconnected from the world, as though every nerve in your body was firing, your cunt pulsating around him as you reached the strongest high you’d ever felt.

It felt almost instinctual to grip at his back tightly, pulling him close, as if he’d ever want to leave. You didn’t even realize how loud you were being, your peak only going higher and higher, to the point of being overwhelming.

Tears streamed from where your eyes were clamped shut, moans turning into sobs as Seokjin ground against your overstimulated clit, your pussy clenched around him tightly.

You were so far gone you didn’t even notice the warmth spilling into you as he groaned loudly into your skin, his movements slowing before he pulled his mouth from you.

The crash was almost immediate, exhaustion and soreness taking over your limbs as you gasped for breath, the hands on Seokjin’s back falling limp. It felt like all the strength was sapped from your body, your consciousness half-absent.

You thought you heard Seokjin fussing over you, his hands wiping tears from your face, but to be honest, it was all a blur. He disconnected with you easily despite your mumbled protests, dropping a kiss on your forehead with a soft command not to move. You didn’t think you were capable of such a thing anyway.

You hardly registered his absence before he was back with a wet cloth. You didn’t know if that was because of his speed or because you were too tired to pay attention.

The next thing you knew, he had rolled you to lay on top of him, your face tucked into his neck as he stroked at your back. Normally, you might have complained about how much colder he was than you, but your skin was still so heated that the coolness was a relief.

You could tell that he was saying something quietly, unsure whether he was asking you something or not. His voice only brought you warm comfort, your arm moving to wrap around his waist.

You honestly weren’t too sure how long you laid there until your senses started coming back to you, but the hand on your back never stopped its soothing motions. The realization made you strangely embarrassed, wondering how long you’ve been out of it.

“Did I fall asleep?” you mumbled, nuzzling into the softness of Seokjin’s neck.

“Not really, it hasn’t been too long,” he responded, though the way he paused made it seem that he had more to say. It took a few moments before he got the words out. “Did I go too hard? Was it too much?”

Despite the low volume of his voice, he sounded almost frantic, and your brows furrowed. Why was he so worried?

“Of course not. I asked you for it, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

He sighed heavily, his hands on you pausing. “I know, I just – I got worried when you were barely responding to me. I guess I was just afraid that you would be scared of me after.”

You felt a tinge of guilt at his concern, but logically it was nobody’s fault. As much as you wanted to take his face in your hands and tell him that you don’t regret anything and there wasn’t a world where you could ever be scared of him, you doubted your ability to do so right now. Instead, you hoped that simple reassurance could be enough.

“I loved it,” you said plainly, sleepiness clear in your voice. You were fighting past the fog in your brain to talk to him, wanting to make sure he knew where you stood.

“I loved it too,” he whispered before bringing up the blanket to cover both of you. “You sound tired. Why don’t we sleep?”

“Wait.”

“Hm?” he hummed in response, his confused expression hid from your view.

“Are you my boyfriend?” Your words sounded almost slurred with how close you were to unconsciousness, but his chest bouncing as he chuckled told you that he heard you just fine.

You were dangerously close to dreamland, but you caught his answer right before you fell asleep in his arms.

“Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.”

#btsgoldnet #btsguild #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #hyunglinenetwork #magicshopnet #mikrogalaxynet #bts x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #bts smut #jin smut #seokjin smut #bts fluff #jin fluff #seokjin fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic

[ptergwen]

Could you write a fic where Tom is in an interview and talking about the reader as his current gf and also being his first love/childhood love?

woah i wrote kind of a lot like we got DETAILED here 😭 have fun

tom’s love life has been the topic of many conversations over the years. he’s gotten countless questions about who he’s dating and what he looks for in a partner. you’d think the hype would die down at some point, but no. even more rumors have begun to spiral as he promotes cherry.

thank the nosy interviewers for that. they’re taking all their chances to get up close and personal.

“so, let’s talk about love,” an interviewer prompts tom one afternoon. he sits up straighter in his chair, expression serious. “sure, let’s.” “what do you think about it?” she’s being vague so she’ll get the most clickable answers. “do you mean, like, in this film? or just in life?” tom wears a curious smirk now. he glances off to the side, where you’re sat watching.

you’ve been sitting in on his interviews as of late to keep him entertained. as much as the movie means to him, he gets bored of answering the same questions about it. having you there to snicker at his jokes or blow him kisses really livens things up. it’s been that way since you were little. you’re always cheering tom up even if he doesn’t realize he needs any.

“both,” the woman replies, mirroring his cheeky smile. “right, that’s what i thought.” tom clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. “so i’m not mistaken, love in my own life?” “anything you feel like sharing.” she beams into the camera while he nods to himself. you give tom a little smile of approval, which he catches from the corner of his eye. he chuckles at the gesture.

“easy enough. i’ll start with cherry, then,” he decides, getting back into the movie. the interviewer nods for him to go on. “you know, cherry’s always been kind of unlucky in the relationship department.” tom pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. “until he meets emily, and things are still a bit complicated with her. i’d say it’s the same way for me.”

you jaw drops off camera, tom doing his best to stifle a laugh. he’s the biggest tease to walk this earth. “oh, that can’t be right,” tom’s interviewer insists with a mischievous grin. “you’re one of the most eligible bachelors out there.” “not exactly eligible, actually,” he mutters and twiddles his thumbs in his lap. a smile creeps onto his face.

she doesn’t miss that. “you do have a special someone after all?” tom squints at her through the screen. “after all? who’s been asking?” he jokes, the woman laughing like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “everyone has. the entire world.” you make wide eyes at tom. he’s never given many details about his dating life before, so this is a big step to take.

“well,” he starts, glancing over at you subtly. “yes, i’m a taken man.” “by who?” the interviewer blurts. she’s the first person to get anything out of him. “um,” tom breathes out an awkward laugh. you mouth it’s okay to him, ready to give the people what they’ve been craving.

you’ve had this conversation with tom a couple of times. he’s never wanted to put any pressure on you about going public, so it’s been your call if and when you do. now, you’ve made it.

“my, uh, my best friend. it’s not harrison, for those of you who know him.” tom bites back another smile. you sport one of your own, the tips of his ears turning red. “does this best friend have a name?” the woman questions. he looks to you again for your permission to say it. you think about it for a few seconds, then you give in.

“it’s y/n. you might recognize her,” tom explains, shifting in his chair. “she’s been on my instagram a few times, other stuff like that,” the interviewer makes a mental note to insert his posts of you in the video. “yes, yes. i think i do. you said she’s your best friend?” she clasps her hands. he’s fully blushing now, you giggling quietly at the sight.

“since secondary school, yeah. we met in one of our classes. english, i believe,” tom hums. “i was sitting alone, so she came and sat next to me.” he’s grinning at the fond memory. you feel your face starting to get hot. “how sweet. it seems like you became fast friends,” the woman suggests, throwing more questions out.

“what happened that turned your friendship to a relationship?”

it was when you were two wiser and more experienced adults that you and tom came to understand your connection. there was one moment specifically that turned you from friends to something more, though. tom will share that story with his interviewer, since it seems like she’s into the gossip.

“we didn’t seal the deal until a couple of years ago.” tom breathes out a laugh at what he’s about to say. you’re well aware of it, rolling your eyes playfully. “but, there was a moment when we were kids that i knew i really liked her.” “please, spill,” tom’s interviewer happily requests. he gladly obliges.

“y/n asked me to practice kissing with her because she liked some other bloke.” tom whispers to his camera, “which wasn’t true, by the way. we’ll get to that.” you silently groan and throw your head back on your chair. he shoots you a wink before continuing. “she wanted to go out with him, and said it was a best friend’s job to help her... prepare.”

you press a kiss to your middle finger and stick it up at tom. “precious,” he sarcastically mumbles in response. “what happened next?” the woman reels him back in. tom focuses on the screen again. “right. so, i did some research on how to kiss.” he shakes his head at his former self. “i really should’ve been studying for my A levels or something.”

“when i’m all ready, i invite y/n/n over so we can ‘practice’.” tom makes air quotes around the world, you murmuring, “i hate you,” only for him to hear. “i don’t know what website i used, but it was clearly awful.” he holds a hand up to pretend it’s your face. “i went in, and i just, like, stuck my tongue down her throat. like this.” he’s recreating the moment, you cringing at the vivid image you get.

“oh, no. what did she do?” the interviewer gives tom a pained look. “she nearly vomited, is what she did. ran home right after.” tom puffs air out of his cheeks. you press your lips together in satisfaction. “anyway, we’re reminiscing on it a few years later, and y/n/n tells me something very interesting.” leaning forward, the woman gestures for him to say it.

“i was the bloke she was gonna ask out, but my terrible kissing skills, or lack thereof, scared her off.” he exchanges a knowing look with you. his interviewer gasps. “i was like... are you fucking kidding me?” he only mouths the fucking part even though it’s getting bleeped. that makes you snort. “there’s a turning point, there’s a turning point,” tom reassures everyone.

“i told her i’ve gotten better since then, and we should try again if she wanted.” the interviewer puts a hand on her heart. “did you?” tom lets out a content sigh. “we did, and then we had a long talk about feelings and all that shit.” you make a heart with your fingers for him. he puckers his lips to mime kissing you, without tongue. “we’ve been together ever since.”

“what a lovely story. thank you for sharing that with me,” the woman butters him up more. she gets another idea. “now that you two are official, do we get to meet her?” “you kind of have,” tom retorts, but still checks with you. not expecting anything to come of this, you only shrug.

“i’ve noticed you looking off camera quite a lot. is y/n there?” his interviewer points out, much to both of your surprise. you’ve been at this for weeks, and she’s the only one to say something. “uh, she is,” tom finds himself admitting. he’s a terrible liar, so he almost had to. “tell her to come say hi!” the woman pushes. you look horrified when tom peeks over.

“no, no. i don’t wanna put her on the spot,” he brushes it off. “she’s a bit... camera shy.” “come on, just for a second!” she persists, waving you over like she can see you. this lady is starting to get on your nerves. “you just told me about that steamy kiss of yours. what’s the difference?” tom quirks an eyebrow. “i don’t know if-“

he stops mid sentence when you appear next to him. it’s to shut the interviewer up. although, you might as well reveal yourself before paparazzi do it.

“never mind,” tom grins a toothy grin up at you. “you wanna have a seat, darling?” “happy to,” you hum as he pats his knee. you take your spot on his thigh, an arm slinging around his neck. he wraps his around your middle. the interviewer is so stunned, she’s finally out of things to say. this could quite literally break the internet.

your voice a low whisper, you speak into his ear. “i can’t believe i’m doing this. you should’ve stopped me.” tom squeezes you closer and tilts his head to the side. “what if i didn’t want to?” “my god.” you plant a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving tom’s mouth hanging open.

“there’s your thumbnail.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland request #tom holland smut

[marauders-venting]

The Staircase Knows

pairing: none (this isn’t a romantic fic)

genre: fluff (mostly)

warnings: internalised transph*bia, mentions of (period) blood, (just note that they are young in this fic and they have simple ideas of gender so don’t come for them)

words: 2612

note: thank you so much to @samyistrying for doing a sensitive reading of my fic and teaching me more about trans identities!!

a/n: in this fic Remus is trans and uses he/him and Dorcas is woman-aligned non-binary person and uses she/they

please know that i am not a trans man!! I read about the experiences of trans men on the internet and other fics with trans characters before writing this so I hope i’ve portrayed this fairly and accurately (but obviously, every trans man has a different experience). if something sounds wrong or offensive to you please let me know!! I’m still young and i want to learn more and improve so that i can make my writing more inclusive

Remus woke up with a groan. He’d had a stomach ache since last night and it hadn’t gotten any better. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tossed the blanket off him. Upon sitting up, he noticed several red spots on the sheet of his bed. What the… he stood up and saw a big red stain where he had just been sitting. Blood. He quickly scanned the room and found that Sirius was the only one there, still drooling on his pillow. Remus covered the bed with his blanket to hide the stain and hurried to the bathroom. He pulled down his pants and found that both his underwear and his pants were stained with blood. His hands began to tremble. They would know now. He couldn’t hide this from them. All his friends would know that he wasn’t a real boy. A sob escaped him and he covered his mouth with his hand to try and stifle the sound. But it was too late. There was a knock on the door.

“Remus?” came Sirius’ voice. “Remus, is everything ok?” Remus tried to compose himself and give a proper answer but he was crying too hard. “Remus, what’s going on?” Sirius’ voice sounded urgent. “There’s blood on your blanket Remus, what happened?” Fuck. In his rush, he hadn’t noticed that the blanket had been stained too.

“Everything’s fine,” Remus said, but even he could hear how shaky and unconvincing his voice sounded.

“Can I come in?” Sirius asked softly.

“No!” Remus said.

“Remus, if one of your scars have started bleeding again—”

“No, no it’s not that,” Remus said. “I swear, I’m not injured. I’m fine.”

“So where did the blood come from?” Sirius asked.

“I—” Remus knew he couldn’t keep this hidden forever. It was only a matter of time before his friends found out. They had accepted him as a werewolf, sure. But there’s no way they would want a girl sleeping in their dorm. They’d find it too weird. And they’d be mad at him for lying to them so they wouldn’t want to stay friends. It was over. He’d only known James, Sirius and Peter for three years but they’d been the three best years of his life, except maybe the years before he’d been bitten by Greyback but he could hardly remember that anyway.

He’d known that they would find out eventually. But he had hoped for a little more time. The universe never seemed to be on his side though, and the sooner he accepted it the better.

“Just give me one second,” he said to Sirius. He composed himself, wiped the tears off his face, hid the blood as best he could and opened the door.

“Remus, what’s going on?” Sirius said, concern shining through his eyes. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure,” Remus said. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Ok,” Sirius said. “What is it?”

He was tempted to say, “nevermind” and crawl into bed with a book but he knew that would only make Sirius more curious. There was no backing out of this now.

“Remus, are you sure you’re ok?” Sirius asked, gently. Remus realised he had not spoken for several moments and was just standing there, hands clenched, chewing the inside of his cheeks raw.

“Yeah everything’s fine,” Remus said, trying to relax his muscles. “I just… I just wanted to tell you…” I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this, Remus thought. Alarms were going off in his head, warning him not to go any further, not to say another word. Shut up. He felt as though a block in his throat was preventing him from speaking. And breathing. He tried to take a deep breath but found himself hyperventilating instead. Fuck.

“Remus, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Sirius said urgently.

“No, it’s nothing to worry about,” Remus said, his muscles tensing up again. “I need to tell you… that…” He hung his head and closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this.

“You’re shivering,” Sirius said. “Come on. Sit down and tell me.” Sirius took Remus by the wrist and started leading him out of the bathroom but Remus flinched and pulled his hand out of Sirius’ grasp.

“Sorry,” Sirius said, the guilt seeping through his voice.

“No, don’t be, I… I’d rather stand though… here if that’s ok.” That part wasn’t true. Remus’ legs were shaking and he was sure they’d collapse in on themselves at any moment but he couldn’t sit and cover everything with blood. So he’d stand.

“Yeah, of course,” Sirius said. “Whatever you want.” But Remus still wasn’t saying anything. He just stood, biting his lip. He couldn’t do this. But Sirius didn’t ask Remus to speak again. Remus appreciated that. How did Sirius always know exactly how to help him? Well, it didn’t matter. Sirius would be leaving him soon. Any minute now. As soon as Remus managed to get the words out of his mouth. Better sooner than later, I suppose, he thought.

“Ok,” said Remus, exhaling loudly, “ok, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s not a big deal, really, I’ve made it out to be more than it is. Basically…” Breathe, he told himself, just breathe and go on. “I—” Remus tried to release the tension but he couldn’t. “I—” He got stuck again.

“Remus, it’s ok,” Sirius said. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine, I promise.” Remus nodded and tried to take a deep breath.

“I’m transgender,” Remus said. Sirius was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be thinking.

“As in you transitioned from girl to boy or you want to transition from boy to girl?”

“As in I transitioned from girl to boy,” Remus said. He was digging his nails into his upper arm, a nervous habit. “I’m a trans boy.”

“I don’t understand,” Sirius said. “What does that have to do with the blood?”

“What? Oh, um, I got my period. I think.”

“Oh,” Sirius said. “Does it hurt?”

“W–what?” Remus asked, looking at him.

“Does it hurt?” Sirius asked again. “Do you need me to get you something?”

“No,” Remus said. “I mean, yeah it kinda hurts. I’ve got stomach cramps but the werewolf stuff is… is worse.”

“Ok,” Sirius nodded.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Remus said. Sirius may be acting like everything is ok but Remus knows it’s not. There’s no way Sirius is ok with this. He can’t be.

“What are you talking about?” Sirius said. “You didn’t lie to me.”

“Yeah, I did. I told you that I’m a boy, when really… really I’m… a girl.”

“Hey, Remus, listen to me,” Sirius said. “You are not a girl. So you don’t have a penis. So what? Who gives a fuck? It doesn't make you less of a boy. You can be whatever gender you want, Remus. Whatever gender you are. Are you a boy?”

“I mean, yeah but—”

“Then there’s no ‘but’,” Sirius said. “You are a boy. Case closed.” Remus nodded.

“Thank you, Sirius,” he said, quietly.

“Anytime,” Sirius said, putting an arm around Remus

“But James and Peter—”

“Will be fine with it as well,” Sirius said, cutting Remus off before he could voice his worries. “Trust me, Remus, they won’t care. And neither do I. You are who you say you are. And I’ll support you. And James and Peter will too. But you don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to. It’s entirely up to you.” Remus nodded.

“I think… could we just… keep this between us? Just for a while…” Remus said. “I… I want to tell them just not… not now…”

“Of course,” Sirius said. “Take your time. But whenever you’re ready, it will be fine.”

“Ok,” Remus said, still unsure. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sirius said, smiling. “Ok, I don’t know shit about periods but do you want me to get Lily to help you with this? Or someone else?”

“One of the other girls, you mean,” Remus said, clenching his jaw. There was no escaping this.

“No, one of the other people who have periods,” Sirius said. “Dorcas isn’t a girl, are they? But she still has a period.” Remus hesitated for a second.

“Ok, get Lily but don’t… don’t tell her about this,” he said. “I think I should be the one to tell her. Just tell her I need some help.”

“Ok,” Sirius said. “I’ll be right back. And Remus?”

“Yeah?”

“Everything’s going to be ok,” Sirius said, pulling him in for a hug. “Nobody is going to look at you any differently because of this. Just like none of us looked at you differently when we found out about your furry little problem. This changes nothing.” Remus smiled a little.

“Thank you, Sirius,” he said. “Really, it… it means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” Sirius said. “I’ll go get Lily then.” And he turned and walked out the door, leaving Remus a little breathless, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

---------

“Remus?” Lily’s voice called. “Remus, what’s wrong? Sirius told me you needed help. Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom,” Remus said.

“Oh,” Lily hesitated. “Do you… do you want me to come in?”

“Don’t worry, I’m wearing clothes,” Remus said.

“Oh ok,” Lily said and the door swung open. “What’s wrong?”

“Ok um,” Remus started. He was struggling to breathe again. Why did this have to be so difficult? “I… um— fuck,” he said under his breath.

“Remus, it's ok,” she said. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, I promise. You’re my best friend.” Remus nodded.

“Ok so—” he took a deep breath, “I’m trans. I–I’m a boy but I-I still have a period and… and…”

“Oh Remus,” she said, hugging him. “Thank you so much for telling me. I’m so proud of you. And you know this doesn’t change anything. You’re still my best friend and you’re still a boy.”

“Thanks,” Remus said. “Really, Lils, thank you.”

“So you got your period, huh?” she says.

“Yeah,” Remus nods. “And everything is covered in blood and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“Ah well, welcome to the other side where chocolate and tea and hot packs are our best friends,” Lily said, laughing. “Although I guess that’s not new to you. Ok don’t worry, I’ll help you with this. It’s gonna be fine.” Remus nodded, unable to say anything. “So as usual magic makes everything a whole lot easier because there are spells for practically anything. I think I actually have some pads in my bag so how about I show you how to use those and then you can shower and change and I’ll teach you how to remove blood stains from everything?”

“Thank you so much, Lily, you’re a lifesaver,” Remus said, hugging her.

“Of course,” Lily said, pulling what Remus assumed was a pad out of a small pouch in her bag. “I learnt all the spells and stuff from Marlene so it’s just nice to have someone to pass on the knowledge to myself.” She opened the pad and showed it to Remus. “This is a pad,” she said. “You just peel it off this paper part and stick it in the middle of the underwear. And you see these flaps? You fold them underneath the underwear to hold the pad in place. Get it?”

“I think so,” Remus said. “I guess I’ll find out.”

“Ok I’ll wait in the room,” Lily said. “Just call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks a million, Lils,” Remus said again.

“Anytime, Rem.”

So Remus showered and put on clean clothes and a pad for the first time. Then he came out of the bathroom and found Lily sitting on the floor with her back against the closet.

“You know you could’ve sat on one of the beds right?” Remus said.

“I like the floor,” she said. He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “What? I’m serious, I like the fl— oh no, wait! I didn’t mean to say I’m serious, please don’t make the pun!”

“Oh calm down, I’m not James,” he said. Lily shrugged.

“Ok so now I’ll teach you the spell to remove the bloodstains,” she said, standing up. She showed him the wand movement and the incantation, providing an example on his blood-stained sheets. The blood siphoned away within seconds and left no trace. Remus tried it on his blood-stained clothes with the same result.

“You should put everything in the laundry anyway though,” Lily said, “the spell removes the visible stains but it doesn’t actually clean things.”

“Lily, thank you so much for this,” Remus said after everything had been cleaned. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Aww, of course, Rem,” she said. “And you can always ask me for help, whatever you need.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You really are the best. So is there anything else you think I should know?”

“Um,” she thought, “I mean, I guess there are tampons but most people don’t use them on their first period anyway so we can wait with that. But I will give you a couple of packs of pads because you’ll need those.”

“Ok thanks,” he said.

“Remus, how many times have you said thank you in the last five minutes?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know,” Remus shrugged. “As many times as you deserved to hear it.”

“Shut up, I should be thanking you,” she said, hugging him. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to tell me this,” she said, quieter now. “But I’m so glad that you did. And I’m always here for you.”

“Tha—”

“Don’t say thank you!” she said.

“Fine then,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Rem.”

They went back downstairs, where they found their friends sitting in the common room, talking.

“I’ll be right back,” Lily said and then quietly so only Remus could hear, she added, “I’ll just get the pads from my dorm.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, following her towards the staircase to the girl’s dormitory.

“But Remus—” he heard James call out. He knew what James was going to say. Lily went up the stairs and Remus, hesitating only for a second, followed her up. Or at least, he tried. But he only made it up two steps before the staircase turned into a slide and he slid to the bottom, Lily slipping down as well and crashing into him.

“Maybe you should wait here,” Lily said, as they stood up and the slide turned back into a staircase.

“Ok,” Remus said, smiling wide.

“Why would you do that?” James asked, confused. “You knew it wouldn't work.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Remus said, sitting beside Sirius. He couldn’t hide his smile but Sirius grinned back.

“Why are you two smiling like that?” Peter asked.

“It’s a nice day,” Sirius said. “Don’t you think?”

“Uh, sure,” Peter said.

“It’s a nice day to leave dungbombs in the Slytherin common room if that’s what you mean,” James said, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, glancing at Remus. “That’s what I mean.”

From that day, whenever the dysphoria became too much for Remus and nothing his friends said made him feel better, he’d wait until everybody went to sleep and would go sit on the stairs to the girls’ dormitory that would immediately turn into a slide when he took the first step. He’d sit there and remind himself that everything is ok. He knows who he is. His family knows who he is. His friends know who he is. Even the staircase knows.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #trans remus lupin #sirius black #sirius black fluff #moony #padfoot #lily evans #lily evans fluff #james potter #james potter fluff #peter pettigrew #Marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #young marauders

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

Kiss Me

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Title: Kiss Me

Words: 1593

Summary: Charlie’s back from Hawaii and providing social media with all the content.

Requested: No. I had to write this after that video of Charlie singing in the bath tub…

TW: Implications of sexual intercourse, mostly the reader getting frustrated by Charlie being Charlie.

Author’s notes: I just wanted to write a bit of domesticity between Charlie and the reader, and thanks to all the content we got from him the other day, this kinda just fell into place. I hope you like it. - also, a little shout out to @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ because she’s been giving us some AMAZING fic content, and she isn’t feeling to great today. I hope this helps a little, Nele.

Three weeks without being able to see Charlie in the flesh had been hard. Yeah, he’d posted photos and videos while he’d been away in Hawaii with his castmates and Kenny, but it wasn’t the same. Neither were the intimate FaceTime calls the two of you shared pretty much daily. Nothing beat being able to wrap your arms around him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to smell the scent that was intrinsically him. Yeah, you’d missed him like crazy.

Checking your watch, again, before checking the arrivals board you leaned up against the wall behind you waiting for his flight to disembark the plane and make their way through to the arrivals lounge. You scrolled through your Instagram feed, checking out what people had been tagging your boyfriend in, amazed by the talent of his fans. More than anything, you wanted to share them, but as no one knew about you, you couldn’t. It was a good thing you ran a semi-popular fan account that you could do it all from, and your story was full of amazing artwork and song covers. As far as your followers knew, you were just another fangirl.

You were so engrossed in the pictures on the screen in front of you, you didn’t hear Charlie approaching you, didn’t know he was right in front of you until grabbed you by the waist, making you squeal in shock and almost drop your phone.

“Oh my God, Charlie. You scared me.” You laughed, flinging your arms around his neck, breathing him in. 

“I would say I’m sorry, but my mom taught me that lying makes my nose grow and my tongue fall out. And I don’t think you’d want that.” He teased after placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Well, no. But it would be quieter around the apartment.” Your response made him pull away and pout. “What? Am I lying?”

“I thought you loved me.” If he hadn’t been grinning like the loveable idiot he was, you would have believed his offended tone of voice was real.

“Oh, you know I adore you. Shall we go home?” as you slide your phone into your pocket, you take hold of his hand and lead him out to the parking lot where his car is parked. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”

“You, please.” You know he’s not the most confident of flyers, so you understand his need to chill for a while before he’s at full Gillespie – a term you coined not long after the two of you met and he was his usual ‘constant overdrive’ self. He was always moving, doing something with his hands, or exploring. Charlie Gillespie didn’t do bored or sitting still very well.

Once you’re back at the apartment you share Charlie sets about unpacking his case, dumping his clothes in the washer straight away. It always strikes you how domestic he is. You’re not the best at remembering to do stuff, but he always manages to catch what you miss.

“Have you got to go to work?” he asks you as he leans up against the counter while you prepare some food for the two of you. You work at a TV studio, but the show you work on is on a break so your hours are more flexible than they would be normally.

“No, I’m all yours for a couple of days.” Your words make him grin before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss.

Your kiss had led to more of an intimate reunion which led you both to your bedroom for most of the day. By the time you emerged, it was almost dark outside and the food you’d been preparing needed to be tossed in the trash. You couldn’t complain though because you’d been able to show Charlie just how much you’d missed him.

___________________________

After the insanity that was Charlie’s delivery from and subsequent live with Madison’s dad, you now had a billboard poster partially unfolded in your bedroom. Naturally, because he was often a child in an adult’s body, Charlie had been like a kid at Christmas when he’d been allowed to open the box. Off camera, he’d been able to slide the parcel that had been included with your name on – Mr. Reyes had so kindly included a hoodie for you which you were now wearing while you stared at the space around you in horror.

“Charlie, babe. Did you have to open it in here? You heard what he said, it took up their entire back yard. Our bedroom is like a shoebox.”

“Yeah, I kinda got carried away. Sorry.” Leaning over, so he wouldn’t rip the poster, he planted a kiss on your lips.

“Well, don’t expect me to help you fold it back up.” With a grin, you turned on your heel and flounced out of the room to post screenshots from the live to your fan account. Only Charlie knew about it and had followed you early on. Eventually, after hearing him swearing and falling over, you went in and helped him fold the damn thing up. It took a ridiculous amount of time, but it was soon back in the box ready to be transported to Canada in Charlie’s car when the both of you went back for Christmas.

Exhausted, you flopped onto the couch and decided to order in some food rather than cook. But first, you took a sweaty selfie and sent it to Madison.

I love your dad, but please don’t let him send us anymore billboard posters. It took two hours to get it back in the damn box.

Her reply was instant.

Dad never expected him to unfold the thing. Love to you both. She wasn’t wrong. Only the man you adored would have ever done that, and live on the internet too. Shaking your head, you ordered pizza.

“Babe, I need a favor.” Charlie spoke as he tidied up the pizza boxes and soda cans from your dinner, making you groan. You were still exhausted, and now a little bloated. All you wanted to do was to slouch and watch a movie, curled up in Charlie’s arms.

“What?”

“Help me set up my phone in the bathroom.” That got your attention.

“Er… why?”

He scratched at the back of his head, a sheepish look on his beautiful face that was covered in the stubble you adored.

“I want to do a couple of videos.”

“And you have to do it now? Haven’t you done enough today?” you close your eyes as you lean your head on the back of the couch. You sense Charlie standing behind you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s looking down at you, the puppy dog eyes in force. Even upside down, he knows what they do to you. “I hate you, did you know that?” you tell him affectionately. With a grin, he bends over and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” With a chuckle, he runs his jaw along yours, knowing the roughness of his stubble is a huge turn on for you.

“Yes, yes you will.” You pull away and stand up. The sooner you get this done, the sooner the two of you can snuggle, and the sooner you can claim your owed favor.

Grabbing the car keys from the sideboard, you head down to the car to get the phone holder. You figure the suction cup works on the car’s windscreen, so should work on the glass screen. When you get back into the apartment, Charlie’s changed clothes and has his guitar in his hand.

“Remind me why you can’t do this from the couch?” you ask, walking into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you know Charlie’s going to regret his decision, but when he mumbles about acoustics you keep your mouth shut. Trying to change his mind when it’s made up is nigh on impossible.

You manage to secure the phone holder to the shower screen you’d cleaned that morning, pull it across the tub, and leave the small space.

“All ready for you, maestro.” You call out as you enter the lounge. Charlie stands up, kisses you and disappears into the bathroom. You fully plan on putting the TV on, choosing a random Hallmark Christmas movie to watch, and wait for him to finish, but when you hear his clear voice singing what he knows is one of your favorite Ed Sheeran songs, you can help but go and stand at the end of the tub and watch him morph from Charlie your doofus boyfriend to Charlie the star.

You watch him, with a smile on your face, as he records a video for his Instagram reel, messing it up a couple of times and having to restart a few times, making you laugh.

“If you can’t be quiet, you’re gonna have to leave.” He scolds you without any anger in his voice.

“I’ll behave. For now.” You wink at him as he starts to record again. Once he’s done, he says he wants to do one more, slightly longer for his Tiktok account.

“Last try, because my leg’s falling asleep.” He speaks into the camera once it’s recording.

I’m in love now

Kiss me like you wanna be loved

Wanna be loved, wanna be loved,

Wanna be loved, yeah

As he sings, he looks up, catching your eye and smiling. In that moment, you fall in love with him all over again.

.

.

.

.

.

Taglist: - if you want to be added, please send me an ask, just in case I happen to miss any comments

@dream-a-little-bigger-x​​ @calamitykaty​​ @crybabyddl​​ @xplrreylo​​ @morganayennefertyrell​​ @lovesanimals​​ @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve​​ @echocharm17618​​ @kinda-really-lost​ @n0wornever​ @all-in-fangirl​ @5sosmukefan​

#Charlie Gillespie #Charlie Gillespie fic #Charlie gillespie x reader #charlie x reader #Mich writes fic

[snickerl]

Of Miracle Births and Other Wonders

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

The lady behind the reception desk sends Mulder and the two kids up to the fourth floor of the hospital. They find another reception area with another helpful nurse. She tells them a doctor will be with them very soon to give them an update on Scully's condition. The few minutes they have to wait tears every nerve in Mulder's body, putting his patience to a hard test. Then, to his great relief, a good-looking woman in her late thirties approaches them. "Hello Mr. Scully, my name is Dr. Hanson, I am taking care of your wife," she says, holding her hand out to shake his.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor, but my name is Mulder. These are our children, Emily and William," Mulder says, nudging them both in front of him. "How is Scully? I mean, my wife? How is she?"

"Hello everybody," the doctor says good-naturedly. "Your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Mulder. She is doing great with her breathing technique. Her cervix is at 5 centimeters, so we still have some way to go. The baby is in good shape, she is in good shape, so we believe we will have a smooth delivery in a couple of hours. Are you all coming to the delivery room?"

William is aghast, his eyes saucer-wide. "What? Ew, no way! Gross!" He shakes his head vehemently. "Never ever!"

Mulder looks at his daughter. "Em?"

Emily thinks for a moment but quickly decides against it. The thought of seeing her mother in pain, even if it was for a good cause, makes her uncomfortable. "I'd rather stay with Will. We don't want him sitting here all by himself," she says.

"I don't need a sitter," William snaps, "I'm not a baby."

"But you definitely behave like one," Emily fires back. "Now shut up and be nice so dad can look after mom and doesn't have to worry about us at each other's throats out here."

"Alright," Doctor Hanson says. "The waiting area is over there. There are magazines and a vending machine. If you need anything, ask the nurse at reception. Follow me, Mr. Scully...I mean Mr. Mulder, sorry...your wife will be happy to see you." She leads the way to the delivery room. Mulder presses a kiss on Emily's hair and waves at William who has already plummeted into a chair. "Okay, kids. See you later then," he says and hurries to follow the doctor.

"Say hello to mom from us," Emily shouts after him, "and good luck!" She looks after her father who disappears through a swinging door marked Deliveries, then trots toward the waiting area to join her brother. She places herself in a chair next to him, looks around, gets up again to leaf through a pile of magazines on one of the tables, finds nothing of interest, goes back to her chair, and lets herself fall onto it with a sigh.

"You could've gone with dad, if you wanted," William tells her without looking up from his phone.

"Nah, I'm good."

Both sit in silence for a while. William is totally absorbed in a game on his smartphone, Emily pulls a history book and some pencils out of her backpack and starts reading, writing notes on the pages in different colors here and there. William shakes his head when he sees her doing that. "That's so old school, sis."

"Well, it's good for me. This way, the information stays longer in my brain than when I read it on a screen. You may call it old school, bro, I call it efficient mnemonics."

"Whatever," he sighs, his eyes back on the screen.

"Hey, what you said in the car, that mom doesn't care about us anymore, what did you mean by that?"

"I meant what I said, whatever the baby needs comes first, and we will play second fiddle. Or maybe even third. But I don't care. If things get unbearable, I will ask to go to boarding school. They can play house with the new baby then and I won't be there to bother anyone with my presence."

"You're being ridiculous, Will. Mom and dad will never let you go to boarding school, and I can't believe it will be anything like you just said."

William only shrugs. The narrative in his head has solidified like concrete, and he can't imagine a worse place to be right now. The best he can do is immerse himself in this online game and forget about what is happening at the other side of the door his father vanished through. After some hours of playing (thank God he brought his charger) and a short nap with his head leaned back against the wall, his stomach grumbles. "Are you also hungry, Em?"

"Well, I could have a snack. How long have we been waiting?"

"We came here at 10:45 am, now it's almost 6," William tells her, looking at the big clock on the wall of the waiting area.

"Wow, seven hours already. Poor mom. I wonder why dad hasn't given us an update."

"Do you think something is going wrong and he doesn't want to tell us?" William says, his voice trembling a bit.

"I don't think so."

"It's not so unlikely at mom's age."

"And how do you know?"

"I read stuff."

"You read stuff. Where?" Emily has problems picturing her brother behind a pregnancy textbook.

"On the internet, where else? If you google 'late motherhood' you get thousands of hits. And they all tell you women should have babies in their twenties and thirties, not their fifties. There is a reason for that. Nature doesn't want you to have a baby when you're old."

"Mom's not old."

"For having babies she is. She should be a grandmother rather than giving birth."

"Well, if she was a grandmother, I would already have a baby," Emily points out pensively, then adds a determined, "no thanks!"

"I just can't believe they let this happen."

"Let what happen?"

"Getting mom pregnant. Why? How?"

"Well, I can tell you how..."

"Ew, don't!" William imitates a gagging sound. "But why?"

"I guess it just happened."

"There are ways to prevent getting pregnant, I hope you are aware of that, unlike our parents apparently. I don't want to be an uncle on top of this any time soon. How could they have been so dumb? I don't get it. For all the times mom lectured us about condoms and safe sex, she didn't follow her own words." He shakes his head showing his disapproval and lack of understanding quite clearly. "I will never have sex, that's for sure."

Emily gives a slight chuckle. At fourteen, her brother most certainly doesn't have any idea of the joy of it. When he gets older and starts fancying girls, he might rethink his attitude, but something else is hitting her the longer their conversation goes. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"Well, what else was I to do? It has been the main topic in our house for the longest time. I guess, sometimes they even forgot I was still living there."

"Bullshit."

William is done explaining his thoughts. His sister obviously isn't getting the point either, just like his parents. "Now are we getting something to eat, or what?"

"You hangry?" Emily asks with a smirk and he is glad she has taken the bait and they changed the topic.

"After seven hours of wasting my time in this stuffy waiting room, I think I am allowed to have a bite to eat. Do you have change for the machine?" The boy is inwardly fuming at his father for once again neglecting him by not giving him money for food.

Big sister overtakes Em again, "I am definitely getting us something more nutritious. There has to be a cafeteria somewhere with sandwiches and a drink with less sugar than what I see in that machine." The idea of having to deal with a cranky brother on a sugar-high isn't very appealing. She gets up from the chair, her mind set on improving her brother's mood with a tasty snack. Plus, the hunt for food will give her something to do instead of mulling over what her mother is enduring at this very moment in the delivery room. "Text me, if you hear something," she tells her brother before she leaves him alone.

He tries to distract himself with the game again, but his thoughts keep going back to six months ago when his world turned upside down. The situation was surreal. His parents had prepared one of their usual Sunday family dinners, Emily had come to join, and with the dessert they served them the news of the pregnancy. His sister's piercing shriek of surprised joy hurt his eardrums and he almost choked on the pie he had in his mouth. His mother annoyed him with science book citations about the finer points of late motherhood and male ongoing virility that made him want to cover his ears entirely and yell 'too much information' at her. The worst was his dad though. The puppy eyes with which he was looking at his mom and the silly petting of her still flat stomach caused a severe tickling in William's throat. To this very day, he hadn't gotten past the shock. He shakes his head to make the unpleasant memories disappear.

And then, of course, what had to happen happens: Emily is gone for about fifteen minutes when Mulder appears in the waiting area with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. "Waiting time is over, the baby's here! It's a girl! A healthy, beautiful little girl," he announces, his voice full of pride and also relief. He looks around, surprised to find William alone. "Where is your sister?"

"Getting us a snack. Is mom alright?"

"She is. She did great. I am so amazed by that woman." Mulder's whole face lights up. "She sent me to get you guys. When will Em be back?"

"I don't know. She's been gone for about 20 minutes now, it shouldn't take her much longer. I mean only if she hasn't met a cute guy she needed to get into a conversation with." William rolls his eyes so hard he sees the back of his head, his voice high-pitched on 'cute guy'.

Mulder is still so high on adrenaline that he doesn't chime in, although he too has been annoyed more than once by his daughter's tardiness, and the reason has often enough been a 'cute guy'. "Okay, gotta go back to Scully, I don't want to leave her and the baby alone for too long," he says. He points toward a long gray hallway with several doors on each side. "We're in room 302 over there on the right. As soon as Em gets back, come and join us. Mom is waiting for you guys."

"But dad," William laments in vain, his father is already around the corner. "Great," he mumbles to himself. First, they drag him out here and make him wait endless hours in an uncomfortable chair only to be here when the baby is born, and now that it is born, they don't have a problem with him standing around for God knows how long until his tardy sister is back. Typical. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, types in 'get here asap', his fingers flying over the screen, and slams the send button.

Impatience gets the better of him soon. There is no more sitting in the chair and playing online games for him now, he is pacing the waiting area, glad that nobody else is there to see him in this state. If Emily isn't back soon, he'll explode, he thinks, but it takes another 20 minutes until he sees her leisurely strolling down the hallway. He sighs in relief when she finally stands in front of him, a cardboard tray in one hand filled with two drinks and something to eat he can't quite figure out, and some flowers wrapped in paper in the other. "It's about time!" he lets her know.

"Sorry," Emily says quite relaxed, "I was just standing in line to pay for the food when I got your text. This hospital complex is huge and a bit confusing to be honest. I'm not sure I took the shortest way on my way back. Healthy muffins, iced tea, and something for your sweet tooth," she says with a grin, holding the tray out to William. "What happened?"

"What happened? What do you think happened? The baby's here, of course, and mom wants to see us!"

Emily gives a girly shriek that hurts William's ears once again. "Yay! Great! You could've been a bit more specific in your text rather than simply summoning me back here. I thought you were just craving the food."

"Yeah, well, there was food right in front of our noses." William points to the vending machine, unable to keep his outstretched index finger steady. "But you had to go on a hunting trip for some salad leaves and made me stand around here alone wondering."

"Where are they?"

"In room 302. They are waiting for us. It's this way." William nods in the direction Mulder showed him.

"Okay, let's go then."

Side by side, Emily and William take long strides toward the room they were told. "Boy or girl?" Emily asks on the way.

"Girl."

"Yay again! Ah, that's wonderful. I have a little sister," she chants.

William isn't sharing an ounce of his sister's enthusiasm. If he had been given a choice, he would have passed on this experience as a whole, but now that they are standing in front of room 302, by opening that door what he has tried to deny will become real. If only his mom is alright, he will accept all that comes with it: sleepless nights because of the baby crying, smelly diapers, more Thai takeout, and an annoying younger sister on top of an annoying older one. If only his mom is alright. Emily knocks and he hears his mother's voice say "Come in!" It sounds weak, he thinks, and his heartbeat accelerates. When he follows his sister into the room, he braces himself for the worst.

#dana scully #fox mulder #emily scully #william scully #msr #xf fanfic #au fanfiction