#I’m probably not going to tag it as Ever After High au because I don’t think it’ll be set in a high school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soullumii · 1 year

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carnival lights | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you take joel to the yearly summer carnival.

warnings/tags: pure fluff, little bit of sexual humor, fake gun use! (water guns), carnival fun, no outbreak!joel, soft!joel, modern au, food, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 40s), pet names (peach, darlin', sweetheart, baby), established relationship. (can be read as part of the stranded universe!), NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 3.5k

a/n: something cute while i work on stranded part 2. there's no plot, just vibes

taglist: @hecatombix @thatmemechick @sexygaypalpatine

“I can’t believe you dragged me out to this mess,” Joel grumbles.

Warm summer air settles over the both of you as screams from excited kids and terrified people on rollercoasters echo around you in the night. Joel’s scowl is illuminated by flashing lights from various pop-up mirror mazes, haphazardly put together ferris wheels, and scandalously painted funhouses.

Seriously, though, why does the children’s funhouse have a mural of a Parisian can-can dancer plastered on the front of it, her fish-netted vagina visible from quite literally any angle within this carnival?

It’s so incredibly ridiculous, and you absolutely love it. You just love carnivals—always have.

Even if they’re probably a safety hazard, even if the creepy clowns wandering about scared you a lot as a kid, and even if the sweet aroma of funnel cakes and fried Oreos and cotton candy mixes with the skunky smell of cheap weed. It brings back memories. And yeah, it might give you a headache after a few minutes, but it’s everything you adore, even if you’re in your late twenties now.

“It’s fun, Joel. Have you ever heard of fun?” You tease, dragging him along the dirt path littered with cigarette butts and mystery liquids. You get a whiff of hot dog.

Joel must get it too, because his nose scrunches and he steps aside a dubious pile of something inscrutable. “My definition of fun ain’t exactly this.”

“Look! That looks fun!” You point excitedly toward a ride called “The Zipper” rising high in the sky, its metal capsules filled with adrenaline junkies swinging back and forth as the entire ride spins on an axis.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel swears under his breath.

“What? Don’t you want to ride it?”

When you glance over at him, he’s looking particularly green, though you can’t exactly tell if that’s from the spinning cups next to you flashing green and white or if he’s truly feeling unwell.

“Are you okay?” You ask, sincerity coating your words as you turn to him.

“I’m fine,” he shakes his head. “I just—you should’ve taken Ellie and Sarah with you. I’m not any fun at these kinds of things.”

“Joel…” you say, a teasing smile growing as your hand lands on his arm. “Are you scared?”

He scowls, but hesitates in his answer, gaze darting away from you. “No.”

Liar. “Joel, it's okay if you’re scared,” you say. “We don’t have to ride any rides. I wanted to come with you just to spend time with you.”

His gaze softens and he sighs. “I know, peach. I wanna spend time with you, too. And for the record, I’m not scared, I’m just concerned about… my back.”

“Riiight,” you smirk. “Let’s go find something to do that won’t hurt your back then.”

You find a funnel cake stand charging $15 per cake. Joel grumbles about how ridiculous, and frankly, illegal it is that they’re charging so much for what is basically a scribble of fried dough as he pulls out his wallet.

“It's about the culture of it all, Joel,” you declare as you take a bite of doughy and powdered sugar goodness. “It’s just what carnival goers do. It’s only once a year, they can make the sacrifice.” You tear off a piece of it and give it to him.

“I guess seein’ Sarah smile after eatin’ fried oreos was worth it," he relents as he takes the cake and plops it into his mouth, humming gratefully and yes! you’re starting to wear him down!

“Exactly.”

After you both finish your funnel cake among a screaming swath of kids, you drag him toward the farm animals. This, he has to like.

You enter into the tent, Joel’s hand tucked in yours, and the smell of manure and dirt immediately choke the both of you, the scent trapped in by the heat and the plastic material of the tarp. Joel somehow seems to look even worse than he did when you mentioned the Zipper.

“These poor animals,” he whispers, eyes wide as he takes in the fences sectioning off llamas and sheep and highland cattle. “They should be out wanderin’ in a field.”

“They do, Joel,” you insist, squeezing his hand. “It’s just for tonight. Come on, let’s go pet one.”

After a snot-nosed child stumbles away from the sheep pen, Joel makes his way over. He frowns down at them, reaching a hand in through the fence to pet them. The sheep inch forward, pressing their wet noses into his palm, and he strokes their soft wool lovingly. Your heart flutters at the sight.

And then you hear him whispering to them: “I’ll get you out of here.”

Before Joel can do something drastic, like wrench open the fence on pure strength alone (which you know he is absolutely capable of), you drag him out of the tent. Your spirits are extinguished, the night feeling more and more like a failure. You have to get him to have fun, somehow.

“Those poor animals,” he says again, shakes his head as you draw him toward the game booths.

“They’ll be okay, Joel,” you reassure gently, rubbing his shoulder blades.

He just shakes his head again, and your heart fractures. You plaster on a smile and set him in front of a booth with two plastic water guns tethered to a ledge, at the far end of the booth are targets bobbing up and down, moving along a track.

“Let’s play this!” You say, handing the teenage booth manager a dollar bill. He chews his gum apathetically, and pulls the lever to start up the game.

This piques Joel’s interest and he watches you grab the pistol-shaped water gun, aiming it at a target, your eye winking as you train your gaze on a target.

“No, no, I can’t let you shoot like that,” he says, grabbing the pistol. He maneuvers your hands, “Left squeezes on the right, darlin’.” He then adjusts your arms and tries to grab the pistol from you, but it's sturdy in your new grasp, not going anywhere.

“There,” he says, proud, and grabs the other gun, pointing it at the first target. “Good luck, peach. You're gonna need it.”

“We’ll see about that,” you tease. You have no idea what you’re getting into.

“Start,” the booth manager monotonously drawls.

Before you can even pull the trigger, three of Joel’s targets are down, and he is cackling as he obliterates the others on his side. Your jaw drops, eyes widening.

Because, what the hell?

You scramble to catch up, pressing the trigger rapidly at your own targets, but only a few hits land. By the time the bored teenager calls ‘game’, Joel’s got his arms over his chest, watching you with a satisfied smile as you try in vain to shoot the last three targets on your side.

You turn to him in shock, but your bones feel light, your pulse beating rapidly because at least he’s finally having fun. And, admittedly, his skill is attractive.

“You should see your face right now,” he laughs.

“You won this,” the teenager drones, holding out a big fluffy teddy bear, half the size of Joel.

“I’m keepin’ this,” Joel says, grabbing the bear and holding it close. He looks ridiculous, holding that giant teddy bear in his corded arms, peppered locks falling over his forehead. Ridiculously handsome. Ridiculously cute. You've got to keep this going.

“What? Seriously? You’re not going to give your girlfriend the bear you won?” You pout. He just smiles wider.

“Darlin’, you’ve gotta earn this. Your shootin’ was pathetic.” He grabs another dollar from his wallet and hands it to the red-headed teen. “Another one, kid.”

Instead of grabbing his own pistol when the game starts up again, Joel comes in close around your back, warm chest pressing against your shoulder blades as his hands skim down your arms. He lays a chaste kiss on the side of your throat and your heart beats rapidly like a bird’s, warmth settling within you, a flush dusting your cheeks at his proximity.

His broad palms land on yours, and he adjusts your hold again like he did last time. “This was good. Your aim, on the other hand…”

“I’ve never shot a fucking gun before, Joel,” you defend.

“This is a water gun, peach.” You grumble as he drags your arms up, sets them in a position that is honestly not very comfortable, but you can see how it might be easier for aiming.

“Aim that ‘lil notch at the top of the gun in the middle of your target.” You follow his instruction dutifully. “Good, now shoot.”

It’s all in good fun, the gun light and cheap in your hand, but you treat it as if you truly are about to shoot a real gun, if only because your competitive nature likes to take over. You take a deep breath and let it out, then pull the trigger. The target goes down swiftly.

Joel pulls back, grinning down at you. “Nice job, peach.”

You preen at his praise.

“Alright, now hit the next one.”

You do just that. He holds his hand up for a high five and you slam your palm onto his, laughing giddily. "I'm so fucking good at this!"

He hisses, shaking his stinging hand out, “Why do you always high five so hard?”

“The game’s almost done,” the teenager warns.

You turn and deflate at the sight of ten targets still standing, confidence leaving your body in one fell swoop. You have about twenty seconds to shoot the last targets, and you wilt, knowing that’s absolutely not going to happen. You gaze sadly at the stuffed whale hanging from the awning.

Joel, noticing your disappointment, grabs his own pistol and fires off at his targets, each painted bullseye flinging back as the water hits it, the targets dropping one by one in quick succession. Even the moving ones he finds easily, spraying them with firm focus, eyebrows furrowed over his hard eyes.

He finishes with five seconds to spare, and a smirk on his lips. He makes a show to pretend to blow smoke away from the water gun’s barrel, and you can't help but laugh. You never see him this goofy, and it makes your body tingle with happiness.

The booth manager rolls his eyes and gets the whale down, handing it to Joel. You give him the biggest puppy eyes you can manage, lips puckered in a pout, and you can see the moment it hits him right in the heart, his smile growing soft, the way he looks away from you, turning to try and hide it. But he can’t, and you tremble at the sight feeling so full, so warm.

“Come on, Joel. I’m never going to be as good as you–which by the way, where the fuck did you learn to do that?” You say, grabbing the tail of the whale and tugging.

"Growin' up on a farm, darlin'. Tommy was always wantin' to shoot the ducks."

"Ah, so you're a master at duck hunting, huh?"

He shrugs. "You could say that."

He tugs the whale away from your grasp, gesturing to the booth. "Alright, one more game. Come on baby, you can do it."

You groan, and he hands another dollar over. The kid looks even more bored. Maybe even annoyed at this point. You don't blame him. You grab the pistol, and get to shooting, not without spraying some water at Joel first. He doesn’t even flinch.

Five targets later (you never could get the full ten), you're whooping and hollering as the kid hands you a fluffy monkey plushie.

"There we go!" Joel praises. “Nice goin’ peach!”

You do a little happy dance, not caring if you look ridiculous, and Joel tucks you into his side, throwing another dollar bill at the apathetic teen.

“For your patience,” he says. You giggle loudly into your palm.

“I don’t get paid enough to be here,” the kid mumbles as Joel tugs you away and back through the carnival.

You look up at him, taking in his carefree expression, the content smile on his face, and the way the lights flash off his eyes, making them sparkle. His strong arm is wrapped around your waist, your cheek pressed into his shoulder.

“Finally having fun?”

He looks down at you, eyebrow quirking. “What’d’ya mean? I’ve been havin’ fun this whole time.”

You stop, pulling back to really look at him, blinking in disbelief. “What? But you’ve seemed so… upset. The rollercoasters, the funnel cake...the animals."

Joel’s smile slips, and a clear sincerity takes hold in his eyes. “Darlin’ none of that matters to me. Just bein’ with you is enough to make anythin’ fun.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, nerves thrumming, mind racing.

“I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise, I'm not very good with emotions," he says, threading his fingers with yours, and your heart stutters. You knew that. He’s always been a closed book, and even if he does decide to be more open, it can be hard to truly decipher how he feels. Though he’s always quick to assure you that you mean everything to him.

“I’ll ride a damn rollercoaster with you anytime if you really want me to.”

This is why you love him so damn much.

You beam, though it turns teasing, “Thanks, Joel, but I don’t want to hurt you.” You poke his lower back.

Joel chuckles. “My back is fine. I’m just scared.”

“Oh really? Finally admitting it, Miller?“

"You know I struggle with admitting my flaws, darlin'."

"Right, because you hardly have any."

"Exactly."

"Well, anyway, I have an idea."

"Do ya now?”

You drag him toward the giant ferris wheel stretching high into the sky, the neon lights climbing its spokes flashing excitedly, drawing the carnival goers in.

You settle in a seat with Joel next to you, though because of the long line, you're forced to be seated with another couple across the way. An older couple, with matching t-shirts and candy necklaces.

"Hey there!" The woman chirps. "What a lovely night, ain't it?"

Joel nods awkwardly, "Sure is."

"It's beautiful," you add.

It truly is, a gentle breeze stirs the warm air, driving away mosquitos and the Texan humidity. The navy sky is clear, only a few fluffy clouds sprinkled about. You’d spend the entire night out here if you could.

"I'm Sharon, my husband Burt and I have been comin' to this carnival for the past fifty years," she says, gesturing to the man in overalls beside her.

"That's amazing," you say honestly. "I’d like to have a tradition like that, too.”

You tell her your and Joel’s names, ignoring the latter’s pleading glance at you by smiling at Sharon and Burt and complimenting their matching shirts.

Burt's says: Nothing Sense We're and hers says: Makes When Apart.

You despise the shirts deeply, but you might as well be friendly to the people you'll be stuck with for the next fifteen minutes.

"Thanks darlin'! Are you two a couple?"

You take Joel's hand, "Yep! Finally reeled this slippery fish in."

"Jesus Christ," Joel grumbles under his breath. You try not to laugh.

"Older men, so evasive, am I right?" Sharon whispers, a hand coming up to shield her mouth from her husband, as if he can't hear her in this tiny space.

"I hear you, sister.”

Joel rubs his thumb and forefinger against his temple.

"Well, enjoy your ride," she beams. "Just beware, my hubby gets gassy when we get halfway up."

You choke on a shocked laugh, your palm slapping over your lips. You lean into Joel, eyes wide, who looks green once again.

"Oh my god," you hiss to him.

"Now look what you've done. We're 'bout to get chloroformed by farts."

You can’t hide your laugh this time, “Joel!"

The ferris wheel jerks, and Joel's hand tightens around yours as it begins to ascend. You notice the tick in his jaw, the way his gaze pointedly darts from the spokes of the wheel to the pole in the center of the seat and back.

"Are you scared of ferris wheels too?" You ask.

"No," he hisses. "I'm scared of state carnival ferris wheels. They set this piece of shit up in three days. How can you even trust it?"

"I just like to think about possible ways I'd survive it."

"Yeah, like what? Grabbing onto the pole and just hanging there 'til they get ya?"

"Exactly, see, it'll be fine."

"That's if the whole thing doesn't detach."

"I think it's more likely we'll die from suffocating by old man farts than this thing detaching."

That gets a laugh out of Joel, and his gaze finally finds the land stretching out beneath you as the ferris wheel rises. The moon hangs high above the clouds, bright and full, and stars dot the dark sky like jewels sewn on a blanket. The breeze ruffles his hair, and you wish to run your hands through it.

"This is nice," he says. "I'm glad I came out here with you."

"You didn't have much of a choice, but I'm glad you're enjoying it."

You hear the man across from you pass gas, and you hide a grimace.

Joel leans in to whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin making you shiver. "This would be pretty romantic if it weren't for Mr. and Mrs. Clause over there."

"Watch it, you'll be approaching that age soon."

"I've got at least twenty years, peach. Maybe you'll be sick of me by then."

"Oh no," you shake your head, looking earnestly into his eyes. "I'll gratefully smell your farts 'til the end, Joel."

"You're messed up," he grimaces.

You just smile at him, and he grins back, his arm slung over the back of the seat, his thumb massaging your neck, and you melt into him, content to watch the world shrink as you near the top.

Eventually the ferris wheel comes to a stop at the top, and you gaze out across the dark world, head resting on Joel's shoulder. He pulls you in close.

"It's time for the kiss!" Sharon exclaims, grabbing Burt's fraying overalls and tugging him in to plant a kiss right on his lips. He melts right into her, and in mere seconds, you and Joel are witness to a geriatric couple making out.

"Ain't this somethin'," Joel says.

"Oh. My. God."

Sharon pulls back after a good thirty seconds, and turns to you and Joel. "Alright! Your turn!"

"Oh no, that's okay," you say, waving your hand. Joel is private in his affections, though his little show at the target booth earlier might say otherwise. Generally, he prefers keeping you to himself.

But tonight, he's full of surprises.

"C'mon, peach. Let's do it. Let’s give these kind folks a show, like they did for us."

"Yes! He gets it!" Sharon bounces excitedly. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

You've been wanting to kiss him all night, so you're really not against it. Though, it's still weird, and you give Joel a pained look.

"I'll give you the whale for this," he promises.

"And the bear," you argue.

"Fine. And the bear."

You grin, and then his hand is at the back of your neck, pulling you in, his nose brushing your cheek as he slots your lips together. He tastes like funnel cake and cotton candy and you honestly don't want this night to end.

Your eyes flutter shut as he adjusts you to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. Your hands plant on his chest, nails digging into the fabric stretching over his firm pecs.

"Woo! Yeah! Kiss her hard! Kiss her really good.”

Your lip is still caught between his teeth when Joel slowly pulls away, eyes trained angrily on Sharon and Burt. He clears his throat as leans back in his seat, and you avoid eye contact with the very strange couple across from you. Joel's hand is hot on your exposed thigh, and now you really wish you weren't fifty feet in the air stuck with some very questionable folks.

Finally, five minutes later you touch the ground again.

"Y'all have fun now!" Sharon squeaks and steers Burt toward the cowboy-themed carousel.

"Have a good night you two," Joel says, faintly as they beeline away from you, almost like you were the weird ones.

He hands you the whale but holds the bear for you as you make your way back to Joel's pickup.

"Well, that was something," you say.

"I don't think I'll get that image out of my head. Or the smell," Joel's nose scrunches.

You stop, turning toward him. "I'm sorry about this. I thought it would be fun. We'd play games and share a romantic kiss on the ferris wheel and feed the animals-"

The words fade as Joel's palm settles on your cheek, his thumb running across your bottom lip, his other hand landing on your waist. "Darlin', we did all of that."

"Yeah, but it all sucked. I can't shoot for shit. And you don't like the animals being all cooped up, and then Sharon and Burt practically eating each other in front of us, then getting turned on by our kissing? You don't think I saw Burt's hard-on?"

His eyes widen in disgusted shock. "His what?"

Your eyes well up. "I’m sorry, Joel."

He shakes his head, pulling you into his chest. "Peach, I had a great time. I love doing whatever you love. I love you, okay? So next year, you can drag me out here again and we can be Sharon and Burt's spank bank material and I'll enjoy it just as much as I did today."

Your laugh is watery against his chest, and he tilts your chin up to softly press his lips against yours again, this time shielded from the hungry gaze of strange old people. He thumbs away your tears.

"By the way," he whispers against your lips. "I liked watchin' you fail at shootin'. It's cute."

You glare half-heartedly at him, pushing him off of you and rounding to the passenger side of the truck. "I always knew you were into humiliation."

"Maybe we should try it, just to know for sure," he smirks, leaning against the door frame, towering over you.

You look him up and down, eyeing the muscles of his forearms and the way his t-shirt stretches across his broad chest. Your voice comes out lower than you expect it to.

“Get in the damn truck, Miller."

"Yes ma'am."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #tlou fic #game joel miller #pedro pascal #soft joel miller

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hollyhomburg · 1 year

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 53)

(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and jimin reach an...agreement.

Tags: pleasure dom Jimin, pillow princess m/c, oral (f. receiving), fingering, knotting, talks of gender and sex, Talks of killing people, talking ill of the dead, assassin! jimin, implied autistic! jimin, Flash Forwards, intentionally vague moments

W/c: 7.770

A/n: please be patient with me regarding the rut chapter ie the chapter after this one! i’m visiting my brother next week in LA so!!! things will take some time. hopefully this little jimin nugget will tide you over. although this isn’t the most unique sex chapter i do really like it. in the meantime! recommend me some stuff to do in la! i’m hoping it’s going to be a restful trip but ngl...it’s not looking great.... i don’t like planning things that other people are going to potentially not enjoy 😠 i’m meant to be a passenger princess threw and threw

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Chapter 53: I’d do Worse (Sneak Peak)

Jimin promptly takes one of the tubes of paint, a light blue- the same light blue that you ended up painting the upstairs bathroom, and squishes it out onto the canvas below you. Near your hand but not on it.

The breath you were holding rushes out in a single jagged laugh, “Okay, now I’m lost- I thought the whole point of the plastic and drop cloths was not to get paint on them.”

The look he shoots you asks you to suspend your disbelief. Especially once he starts doing that to all the other colors. He continues to drop careful splotches of paint around you. Enough that it would take a lot of concentration to get out of the room without tracking dark blue or pink or yellow or red halfway across the house.

You wonder what exactly Jimin plans to do to you. Paint included. He puts out a spurt of yellow paint on your side and then another.

Surely sooner rather than later, noodle is going to wander in here in search of a pool of sunlight, track his paws or tail through the paint, and leave pawprints everywhere throughout the house. Yoongi will probably complain about them, but you might make him keep them instead of washing them away.

When he’s finished, Jimin turns a yellow tube over in his hands. Back and forth, the cap flashing like a rising and setting small yellow sun. jimin’s voice is low when he speaks, near reverent. “You’re the first woman I was ever with- that I ever knew I was with.”

It’s an admission and an admonishment, one that you and the rest of your pack have been tiptoeing around. Even though Tae’s a woman now- she hadn’t always been- at least not in a way the pack could compensate for. While new lines in the sand are drawn that doesn’t mean the old lines totally fade away. It will take a few more cycles of low and high tide to completely grow used to this.

Jimin fiddles with a small red tube of paint. “I’m a rigid person, I know I am. i don’t like change most of the time and I know, I know things shouldn’t be so planned, I know that’s not the way things usually go but-” You nuzzle close to Jimin, and his words extinguish into a sigh, his hands coming up to your sides, the same place he always likes to hold, between your shoulder blade and your ribcage.

“But you need them to be this way sometimes. Planned? so you can make sure everything’s done right” You press.

He bristles, “If you’re expecting me not to say that I want everything to be perfect when I can make it that way then-”

“You’re such a control freak Minnie.” you say it with a smile, playing your fingers through some of the milky pink white, feeling the tackiness between your fingers.

“You don’t hate it?”

You shrug. “Jin’s that way too sometimes. So no, I guess I don’t hate it. Maybe it’s just because I like- really fucking hate making decisions.”

He grimaces, but Jimin’s eyes dart from your face down to your crossed legs. settling on something. “Do you care if those clothes get dirty?”

“A little- I like these shorts.”

“then you should take them off.” your heart thuds as jimin leans over you, tugging on the strap of your Tanktop with his teeth, lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder, dragging them down. He plays at being sexy but decides not to be, settling for leaning his cheek on your shoulder and watching you.

“I had kind of this stupid idea, if you don’t want to do it just say so. This is every shade of pink that we ever painted the house. Tae’s favorite color is pink- and the canvas- i thought it might be nice to have like- some art in her library room- that’s what I meant about making it planned.”

“Are you saying you want to make sex art or something?” Jimin blushes yet again. You should be keeping track of how many times he has and use them for leverage.

“You know gift giving is like, my second love language if that bullshit is to be believed and-”

“-Oh my god you actually do want to make sex art.”

Coming Saturday May 6th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

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kimetsu-chan · 4 months

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Biological!GiYuLo

Disclaimer ⚠️: this is not a ship. It is a family dynamic. It contains Giyuna (Giyuu x Yuna) which is a romantic ship. This portrays Milo(@larz-barz’s oc) as their daughter. Yuna is my oc. These are headcanons and not an actual oneshot. This is the modern KNY AU.

A/N: This is the result of my baby fever, so here you go! 😋 also, this is my first time writing in this format, so sorry if it’s choppy 😭 also there are A LOT, so be prepared—

My goodness was Milo a cute baby. She had the chubbiest cheeks and her parents couldn’t stop squishing them (gently of course)

She was such a talker too! She’d babble nonstop at anything and everything, even inanimate objects like a wall.

She could be sitting in her high chair or on her dad’s lap and be having full blown conversations with the wall or the plant next to the couch.

She also loved to be carried and held. Like loved

You so much as even make the motion of setting her down, she’d start bawling (she’s just a cutie like that)

It worried Giyuu and Yuna for a bit

But then she went into an independent phase—

She wanted to do everything by herself, despite being so tiny and not having the motor skills to much of anything

I headcanons Milo’s first word was “dada”

And that she said it in just a really adorable way

I actually have the entire scenario of her first word planned out

Like it was a Sunday afternoon and Yuna was in the kitchen making lunch.

Giyuu was laying on his side, playing with Milo (oh my gosh my heart. Giyuu loves babies and you cannot convince me otherwise)

Like he was just wiggling his finger at her and she grabbed it

She was doing her adorable giggle when it just spewed out of her mouth

Giyuu probably froze for a bit then sat up all the way to stare at his wife as if to say “Did you hear that?!”

Yuna would be just staring at him back with a surprised smile and Milo would say it again

But this time it would be because she’s upset Giyuu’s not paying attention to her anymore

JEBDJDGDU FAMILY CUDDLE PILES OHMYGOSH.

Like Yuna and Giyuu would be cuddling like most couples do and Milo would just climb onto the bed with her favorite stuffed animal and plop her fat little toddler belly in the middle

KDHSJCBKSBDH IM MAKING MY BABY FEVER WORSE—

😭

Milo loves both of her parents equally…. But she’s definitely a daddy’s girl

Oh my gosh Giyuu would spoil Milo so bad—

He’d take her out to get ice cream every Friday after kindergarten

And that tradition would carry out until she’s in highschool

She just loves her dad okay 😭

Don’t get me wrong, Milo loves her mom too

They like to paint their nails and do face masks all while watching a movie once a month

(Sorry Giyuu, you’re not invited, it’s mommy-daughter time—)

When Milo first learned how to ride a bike, she fell and scraped her knee

Being a kid, she obviously cries because it hurts

But dad came to the rescue, (this is why she’s a daddy’s girl—) and placed a bandaid and kiss on the boo boo

Being the best dad ever, Giyuu helped his daughter become more confident to get back on the bike

He would walk/jog along side her and be telling her things like “You can do it baby” and “There you go, you’re such a brave girl”

I’m legitimately crying from how cute this is 😭

Milo loves to eat lunch with her dad when they were at school

Sometimes her future boyfriend would come sit with them

Giyuu would definitely be staring any of her male friends because “No one’s good enough for his baby”

Which is completely true but—

This is all I can think of at the moment, but I’ll definitelyprobably make a part two at some point

(Tagging @mjtheartist04 because I blame her for giving me baby fever 😈)

#🍁#oc #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #hehehe #yuna handa #kny #Giyuna #oc x giyuu #giyuu x oc #oc x cannon #cannon x oc #giyuu tomioka #Giyuu x Yuna #Yuna x giyuu #Giyuu tomioka x Yuna handa #Yuna Handa x Giyuu tomioka

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aristocratic-otter · 6 months

Text

Hey y'all! It's been a good week for me. I got to go to a British High Tea for the first time ever and had a blast. No cake trolleys though (sorry, Simon!).

I've loved reading your excerpts over the last few weeks, and I've started listening to the podfic fest entries on my drives to and from work (Shout out to @caethes for podding my fic Threads of Fate!). It's so nice to have more audiobooks from Carry On without Rainbow Rowell having to write a new book!

Thank you and tag backsies to @wellbelesbian, @messofthejess, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @artsyunderstudy, @larkral, @whatevertheweather, @best--dress, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @nightimedreamersghost, @theearlgreymage and @hushed-chorus

From my fic for the Carry On-Reverse Bang:

“B-Baz,” I stuttered, trying to scramble to my feet. Trying, and failing. The moment I tried to get up, a wave of dizziness hit me, coinciding with a stab of pain in my head. I sagged back to the ground and lifted my hand to my hair. My hair felt wet and my scalp pulsed with pain when I brushed my fingers over it. When I pulled my hand free, it was dark and wet looking.

From my COTTA 2023, Snow Fox:

“I missed you,” he sighs, when we have to break apart for air.

“I always miss you,” I grumble, resting my forehead against his shoulder. He laughs silently; I can feel his chest bouncing against mine.

“You always have to make everything a contest,” he says, but his voice is fond.

“I won your heart, didn’t I?” I smirk at him and he punches me gently in the shoulder.

“Arse,” he laughs.

From my Age of Sail AU, Stars, Flowers, and Children:

I know we’re far too young to take care of ourselves. If I were a few years older, I’d probably strike off on my own, because living with Davy is nearly unbearable. I’d try to convince Simon to come with me, but I think I’d go, even if he refused.

But I’m not a few years older. I’m twelve, and I’m afraid. I don’t know if Simon or I could survive without an adult to guide us, no matter how vindictive he is.

As it turns out though, we aren’t given a choice.

And a slightly more than 6 sentence snip from my TikTok dancer AU (needs a name!):

Penelope narrows her eyes at him. “Snow is an odd name,” she points out, and I realize with a jolt that I never even tried to take on a human name. Shepard knows me by my birth name, but I know enough after a year of living around them that humans don’t go by a single name. Shit!

Shepard’s eyes look equally panicked for a moment, but he swiftly smooths over his expression. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says to Penelope. “Snow is his surname. But that’s how he introduced himself to me last year, so that’s what I’ve gotten used to calling him.”

“And your full name is?” she asks me, not Shepard. My brain scrambles frantically for a human name I can live with. For some reason, my mind stops on a memory of a particular judge on one of the dancing competitions I’ve been watching.

“My first name is Simon!” I blurt, a little too forcefully.

Nothing from Saving Simon Snow this week, it's giving me hell at the moment.

Tagging:

@angelsfalling16, @annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @frjsti, @gekkoinapeartree, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @ileadacharmedlife, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @letraspal, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @rimeswithpurple, @raenestee, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @vampire-named-gampire, @whogaveyoupermission, @yellobb, @yeonjunenby

#co/ws/awtwb #six sentence sunday #snowbaz #simon snow series #carry on through the ages #cotta 2023 #carry on reverse bang #age of sale au #American revolution au #Tiktok dancer au #Blue Lagoon AU

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glystenangel · 2 years

Text

Kissing in the Dark

SoftDom!Choso x Afab!Reader (Modern AU)

tags/warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, everyone's 21+ in this, alcohol and substance use, praise kink, riding, unprotected sex, lotttttts of kissing, dirty talk, swearing, Choso calls you your highness but sarcastically and pretty girl but not sarcastically, friends to lovers type beat

summary: you go to choso's house party and drunkenly realize that you two make good friends, but have better sex

~4k

thanks for reading and enjoy <3

“Oh my god, she’s finally here!” Nobara engulfed you in a hug as soon as she answered the door.

She smelled of booze and floral shampoo, and you could see that the living room behind her had been loosely decorated with colorful garlands and most of the lights had been switched off. Flashing lights cut through the dimness and music with heavy bass reverberated in your chest, it was so loud you had to almost shout into Nobara’s ear.

“Finally? Yuji said to come around 9 and it’s only 10.” You laughed, squeezing her back.

“What? We’ve been drinking since I got off work at 8.”

“That’s because you just barged in without warning and waving around a bottle of vodka. We were barely set up.” Yuji elbowed her aside, “You’re still like an hour late though, what happened?”

“I’m not gonna lie, I took a nap and lost track of time.” You apologized, trying to subtly peek over his shoulder.

He gave you a knowing stare, “You looking for Choso?”

“No.” The too fast answer made Yuji and Nobara cackle.

“Don’t be like that.” Nobara pinched your cheek, “He’s been asking if you were coming too.”

“Thanks for letting me know, now I can give him shit for it.” You grinned as you imagined the way he would probably roll his eyes and scoff at your teasing, but pull you into a hug all the same.

“I’m surprised he didn’t text you.” Yuji rubbed his chin, “Probably chickened out.”

“You two are so bad, one of you needs to make a move already.” Nobara shook her head, draining the last of her drink.

“Maybe after a few drinks I’ll feel up for it.” You shrugged, part of you liked the cat and mouse game you two had been playing ever since Nobara had invited you to Yuji’s birthday party half a year ago.

“He’s in the kitchen making drinks. Come on, we gotta reup.” Yuji waved you in before closing the door.

As they lead you through the house, you high fived and briefly chatted with the other guests at the party. It was a healthy mix of Choso and Yuji’s friends, along with some people you didn’t recognize and assumed were friends with the pair’s other brothers. It was a relatively huge house for just Choso, Kechizu, Eso, and Yuji, so they liked to throw parties every so often on the weekends. At first, you had been intimidated by Choso’s striking attractiveness and bored attitude, so you had totally avoided him after your initial introduction. Then, some guy named Mahito had smacked your ass on your way out of the bathroom and Choso had immediately gotten up from his seat to knock him out cold with a single punch. Once Eso and Kechizu had carried his limp form out of the house, you decided that the least you could do was ice Choso’s hand with a bag of peas from the fridge and profusely thank him.

“You’re good, I just hate assholes like that.” Choso had casually shrugged, and then he gently added, “Let me know if anyone ever bothers you again. I got you.”

“You like playing bodyguard?” You had teased, though you could feel yourself blushing at his unexpected protectiveness.

He had then sent you a grin that made your heart skip a beat.

“Something like that.”

After that, you had begun to harbor the biggest crush on him. It didn’t help that you had immediately clicked as you conversed over the thawing bag of peas. You definitely developed a soft spot for each other, and you texted him whenever you weren’t at the house or joining the rest of the friend group at a concert or some other fun outing. Nobara was right in that you two had been dancing around the subject of becoming more than friends for a while now. Even in the quiet moments when you two were alone, neither of you ever seemed ready to cross that line.

You finally made it to the kitchen where Megumi and Choso were making small talk as they shared a bowl next to a sizable spread of alcohol, sodas, and juices on the kitchen counter. Your breath caught in your throat from seeing Choso’s tall frame leaned against the stove, his eyelashes fanning down as he inhaled from a glass pipe. His hair was neatly tied up in its signature spiky bundles, and flickers of bright color moved over his handsome face, revealing the dark mark across his nose bridge and the concentrated scrunch of his defined eyebrows as he smoked. Even in the low light, the silver in his ear piercings and the multitude of rings around his fingers gleamed. When he let out an exhale of hazy white vapor, you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed or how his broad shoulders rolled back afterwards. He was always the perfect picture of composure and strength, with his muscular build and calm disposition. Even in just a grey t-shirt and black distressed jeans you could see how defined his towering figure was, the veins in his arms pronounced and the lean shapes of his muscles vaguely outlined in the fabric.

“Hey.” Megumi waved when he noticed you three entering the kitchen, and you smiled at him.

“Hey guys!”

Choso snapped his head up, passing off the bowl to Megumi and automatically opening his arms to you.

“You made it.”

“Yeah, I heard you were waiting on me. Didn’t wanna break your heart, so I decided to show up.” You looked up at him as he hugged you, beaming when he chuckled and rolled his eyes before meeting your gaze.

“Well, thank you for gracing us with your presence, your highness.”

You loved making eye contact with him, something about the depth in his dark eyes made you feel so safe and created a flood of warmth in your chest.

“And don’t worry, I’d let you break my heart any day.” Choso claimed, crouching down so that his mouth was right by your ear. The admission made your throat go dry.

Then he laughed, pinching your nose and making you let out a confused and irritated, ‘hey!’ before he let you go.

“What do you wanna drink?” He asked, gesturing at the arsenal of liquor available and keeping his eyes on your contemplative face.

“Let’s take a shot!” Nobara yelled, sitting herself onto the white tile of the counter and tugging Megumi and Yuji’s shoulders to her sides.

“Make that two for me, I need to catch up.” You volunteered, holding up a peace sign.

“Atta girl!” Nobara sent you a wink as Choso went over to the stack of empty cups and distributed the shots.

“What is it?” Megumi cringed as he sniffed at his red plastic cup.

“Tequila.” Choso deadpanned, sticking a lime wedge into the rim and jutting his chin towards Megumi’s hand, “Here’s the salt.”

Choso poured a tiny pile of salt onto the back of everyone’s hands and you all clinked cups before Yuji counted down.

“Cheers!” ________________

Eventually, you ended up as thoroughly sloshed as everyone else, and you collapsed on the couch next to Choso after dancing for what felt like hours. Yuji, Nobara, and surprisingly Megumi were still at it. The trio were honestly good dancers, and you clapped while watching them groove to the beats until you sank into your seat.

“Hey.” Choso greeted, a small smile on his face.

“Hi.” You returned with an airy wave, curling onto your side to face him as he rested his elbows over his knees.

“You look happy.” He noted, taking a few gulps from the water bottle he nursed in his hands.

He offered it to you once he had his fill, and you gratefully drank some sips.

“I always am when I’m with all of you.” You said simply, feeling the water soothe the edges of your brain that fizzed with alcohol.

You handed the bottle back, and Choso finished it with a sigh.

“You’re gonna give me a toothache.” He gave you a sidelong glance, though his eyes crinkled at the sentiment.

“What? I can’t love my friends?” You punched his arm, and he feigned injury before catching your wrist.

“Sorry, your highness. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Better not.”

“Or what?” He tilted his head, leaning in close and automatically drawing your eyes to the enticing curve of his cupid’s bow. You could smell the clean scent of his cologne on his skin, and you wondered if he knew how much more beautiful his eyes were up close.

A loud crash from the kitchen startled you from your thoughts, and you could hear a group of guys chanting, “Chug it! Chug it!”

More chants and loud whistles pierced the air as you assumed more alcohol had been successfully guzzled down by one of the partygoers.

“It’s a little loud out here, you wanna hang out in my room?” Choso drew back, gesturing in the general direction of his room.

“Sure!” You breezily replied, following him as he got up.

You ran your hand along the wall as you went through the dark hallway of the house, playing with the shadows that projected on the walls as figures passed by or danced across the living room. You couldn’t wait to be able to sit down again. You often nestled yourself into Choso’s bed when hanging out with him, so you were sure he wouldn’t mind if you snuggled yourself into the blankets once more.

“Finally.” Choso deftly clicked the door open, swinging it aside and sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. He yawned into his hands before raking them through the loose hairs that framed his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his perpetual tiredness as you shut the door, not even bothering to turn on the lights and coming to rest in the space between his legs before intertwining your arms around his neck. If you weren’t still mildly drunk, the nonchalant way he brought his hand up to rub at your forearm would have made you a stuttering mess.

“How are you feeling?” You tipped your head to the side, looking down at him serenely.

He nodded as he peered up at you, his words slightly slurring at the ends.

“Good. Really good, except that-” He abruptly broke himself off, letting out an amused scoff, “Nevermind. I’m good.”

Your eyebrows immediately knitted together with concern, “What? No, what’s wrong?”

He focused on the ground in silence for a moment and then reluctantly swept his gaze back up to you, “Nothing, it’s just that…”

The muffled music from the living room beat into the walls, but Choso’s pause made the pounding of your heart the only thing you could hear. That is, until he considered you with a defeated smile and spoke again.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

At first, you thought you had misheard, but he continued talking and his next statement erased any remaining doubt within you.

“I think about kissing you a lot, actually.” He confessed, breath heavy and his hand delicately stroking past your elbow.

The touch caused a shiver to run through you, but you grounded yourself enough to find your voice, “Yeah? How often?”

“More than I’d care to admit.” The skin underneath the mark on his nose tinted pink, and you found the need to make him stay in such an overwhelmed and embarrassed state irresistible.

“That’s a shame, I like hearing you. I like words.” You crossed your arms behind his neck, and his hands readily moved to wrap around your waist.

He bit at his lip for a minute, trying to steer his line of sight anywhere else instead of at you. His sudden shyness made your heart nearly burst with affection.

“Do you like words too?”

Choso briefly met your eyes, and you could see how blown out his pupils were from just your bodies being pressed so closely together.

He swallowed, and then allowed a single nod of his head.

“Every time I see you I want to kiss you.” You murmured, kissing his cheek to prove your point.

He let out a subdued groan, tightening his hold on you and pulling you closer.

“And kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and fucking kiss you.” You went on, little whines escaping your lips as you trailed kisses along his neck and jawline until his hands trembled.

“God, you’re something else.” His hands slid under your shirt, gripping at your bare skin.

The heat of his motions made you close your eyes, and you felt his hand reach up to grasp the back of your neck and tug you into a fervent kiss.

When your lips touched, the sheer bliss was instant. Every hungry tilt of his head only served to deepen the kiss and your feelings towards him, and the electrifying movement of your mouths made your heart beat excitedly. Each kiss seemed to serve as his replacement for air, and the way Choso roughly groped at your pliant body made you slick with arousal.

Eventually, you both had to break apart to take deep breaths. Your lips were only centimeters apart, though Choso seemed to find that absolutely unacceptable.

“No. Not allowed, sorry.” He ground out, exasperatedly kissing at the corner of your mouth and digging his fingers into your sides.

“Oh? I’m not allowed?” You teased in between more needy and breathless kisses.

“Nope.” Another peck was stolen from your tender lips, and then he stilled as he intently looked into your eyes.

“Unless, you really want to stop…do you want to stop?”

The slight panic and concern in his eyes was so endearing that you gathered the collar of his shirt towards you, bringing your lips together.

“No. Don’t stop.” You begged in a hushed tone, and you could feel the smile on his lips.

You made quick work of each other’s clothing, the alcohol and adrenaline of your confessions fueling the reckless abandonment of every piece of clothing until you were both finally skin to skin. You straddled Choso’s lap, shuddering when the tip of his eager cock brushed against your sensitive clit. When you tried to push down Choso’s chest to sit properly, he sat back up and refused to budge.

“No. Too far.” He asserted, apparently unable to cope with you being outside of kissing distance.

“I’m right here, I promise.” You reassured with a laugh, giving him a peck on the lips as you hovered over his cock.

You nervously studied his boner beneath you, the entire length was bulky and pearlescent droplets of precum adorned the engorged tip as it lightly grazed his lower abs. You could see the blood vessels along the sides pulsating from the feverish anticipation of entering your all too willing pussy.

“Ready?” His question brought you out of your stupor, and you gingerly nodded.

“Please, Choso.”

He firmly placed his hands at your waist, guiding his rigid cock into your slippery entrance. Choso spread apart your folds with little effort, deliberately slowing to give you enough time to adjust and comfortably engulf every girthy inch. The crescent shapes of your nails stung into his shoulders, and you placed your knees against the bed for leverage, mewling at the delicious swell of your walls from his massive size. You lewdly dripped around the base of his cock, and he let out a guttural swear at your drenched state.

“Goddamn.” He carefully swivelled his hips, observing your soaked pussy slicken further and smirking at the whimper that you released from the movement.

“You wanna use my cock to cum? Go ahead.” Choso muttered against your lips, easily heaving your hips up until you absorbed the cue and began bouncing on the veiny ridges of his cock with enthusiasm.

He kept his hands at the arch of your back, depositing heated kisses against your lips as you braced yourself on his shoulders and fucked yourself exactly how you wanted. The fat head of his cock rubbed at your most delectable spots, and you found yourself coming to the edge of orgasm over and over again. Choso attentively caught every filthy sound that you emitted from riding his cock, devouring the pathetic moans and stretching you out until tears dampened your eyelashes.

The pleasure was so dominating that you were no longer able to return his kisses, lustful pants escaping your lips and animalistic instinct taking over the forefront of your mind. Choso didn’t seem to mind, gliding his lips over your neck instead and checking the shifts in your facial expression with an obsessive degree of care. The rocking of your hips had him biting down hard on his jaw, and you were captivated by the obscene whimpers he choked out. You rutted into him with an excited hunger, entering a daze when he hotly moaned against your throat and swore to every God that you felt absolutely amazing.

Choso was known to be a man of few words, so when he started lowly offering more encouragement in your ear you could hardly take it.

“Such a pretty girl. Love how pretty you look sitting on my cock like that.” He whispered, watching you clench around him and the glistening sheen of your precum coating his hardened cock.

You incoherently mumbled a reply, all but lost in the heady sensations and his praise.

“Gonna cum if you keep this up, fuck. So, so good. Squeezing me just right.” Choso let out a strained breath when you constricted around him, and you felt him taking control of your pace. He snapped his hips up to meet yours with solid smacks, and you could feel the slap of his balls hitting right up against where precum was seeping out of the bottom of your slit, incessant whimpers and pleads left you from every desperate rush of his cock.

“How did I get so lucky, hm? God, you are so pretty.” At this point, you were completely mindless and obediently taking every thrust, letting him wildly ram into you and clamping around his incredible thickness. You gasped with delight at his relentless pounding, twitching with wanton pleasure. The swollen head of his cock visibly prodded at your stomach, and your mouth filled with drool as the rest of his sturdy length followed to stroke through your saturated pussy. It felt so good that your toes were curling and your eyes sluggishly glazed over with exhilaration. Of course, Choso noticed.

“Oh, you liked that, pretty girl? Like when I fuck you deep in your pussy like that? I like it too. I love it.” He divulged against your parted lips, so turned on by how dumb you had become from his touch that he had to swallow thickly between phrases.

You dribbled without shame around his unwieldy cock, the wet sounds of your fucking only making it harder for you to not lose control.

“Are you close?” Choso’s voice was soft, but you could hear it edged with pride and a hint of mocking.

You managed to faintly nod, placing your hands over his as they continued directing messy yet powerful slams into your quivering pussy. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate. Chills pricked into your skin, and you squirmed at the intoxicating gratification forming in your core.

“Good, good. Keep going. I want to see the pretty look on your face when you cum.” He gave you a loving peck behind your ear and then touched his forehead to yours.

When he saw your mouth drop open and your eyebrows pinch together in ecstasy, he maintained his pace until you were frantically jerking around in his lap, overloading from the pleasure tearing through your body and spurting warm streaks of cum onto his waiting cock.

Choso grabbed your throat to crush your lips against his, agitatedly lifting you up and down his dick until you sensed his cum mesh with yours and squish into your satisfied cunt. He finally settled you down to rest on top of his thighs, and you ground steady circles into his hips, relishing the addictive pulse of your orgasm racing through your system.

You clutched at the back of his neck, slotting your tongue into his mouth and seeing sparks whenever his tongue slid over yours. His hands molded around your curves, and when he fell back onto the bed he dragged you down with him.

Though you could feel your climax fading, content hums left you and the joyful pitterpat of your heart from being in Choso’s secure embrace only increased.

When Choso pulled away, the pure adoration in your eyes was apparent as he carefully held your face in his hands. His breathing slowed as he regarded you with the same happiness in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” You cheekily inquired, placing your hands on his muscular chest.

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.” An exhausted smile spread across his face, and he blinked distractedly.

You let out a small laugh, “Choso, you alright?”

“Yeah, I just love you.”

The unexpected declaration hit your heart with precision, and you instantly melted at his honesty.

"Fuck." You timidly buried your head in his chest before raising your head to peek at his handsome visage, “I love you too.”

He chuckled warmly, patting your head and leaning forward to gift an affectionate kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you.” ________________

The next morning you woke up cuddled within Choso’s strong arms and feeling significantly sore.

Before you could register more of your aches, you detected Choso at your back as he nuzzled his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Good morning, did my girlfriend sleep well?”

You quickly turned to look at him, a beam lighting up your face, “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Girlfriend.” He reiterated, reflecting your smile.

You practically pounced on him with an ecstatic kiss, and last night’s events almost repeated themselves, only to be rudely interrupted by erratic knocks at his door.

“Hey!” Nobara yelled out your name authoritatively, adding more impatient knocks and rattling the doorknob for good measure, “We know you’re in there!”

“Yeah! We know you’re in there!” Yuji joined in, his own knuckles rapping against the wood.

The blood drained from your face and you burrowed back into Choso’s arms, making his shoulders shake with poorly contained laughter.

“I’m sorry, I told them to leave you two alone!” Megumi shouted halfheartedly.

“We just wanna know who made the first move! I’ve got $20 on the line here!” Yuji pleaded.

“Go away!” You retorted, attempting to fix your hair.

Choso moved to help you, trying to comb through the mussed locks with his fingers.

“See! I told you! She really is in there, ha!” Nobara bragged, and you slapped a hand over your mouth before glimpsing up at Choso.

“Choso, do something!”

He cupped a palm over the side of his mouth and pointed it towards his bedroom door, “Guys, step away from the door or I’ll make you listen to us fuck!”

“Choso!” You squeaked, but he only donned a shiteating grin when you made a weak attempt to slap him.

“Oh my god!” Yuji and Nobara screamed, and you could practically see Megumi’s worn out face when he sighed.

“I’m leaving.”

“What? Embarrassed?” Choso asked, hauling you closer.

“Yes! Well, no- But you can’t just say that to them!”

“I’m sorry, your highness. Forgive me.” He tried to sound sincere, but you rolled your eyes at the obvious guiltlessness in his smug expression.

“Only if you let me steal one of your hoodies and make me a breakfast burrito.” You raised up your hand in a mock handshake, and he readily grasped it.

“Done.” He bowed his head, bestowing a kiss onto the back of your hand.

“Can I get one too, bro?” Yuji requested from the other side of the doorway.

“Wait, me too!” Nobara chimed in.

“Both of you, fuck off!” ________________

End Notes:

Me 🤝 The failed one night stand trope with Choso

This is for my fellow party girl Chosoheads✊😤

thanks for reading<3

((((((if you liked it, check out my other Choso oneshot here😚)))))

631 notes · View notes

trinidaddy888 · 6 months

Text

Strictly Professional (Chapter 4)

After living with your family for most of your life, you finally get to move out and find an office job in Devildom. The cost of living is low and the income is high and you make Devildom your new home. But no one is nice to you and ignores you. Except for the white-haired, tall demon that works a few floors above you. You want to get to know him. You even get a crush on him. You want to ask him out but is that a good idea?

Characters: Mammon, Reader, MC

Ship: Reader x Mammon

Genre: Romance

Tags: Office romance, Office AU, Alternate Universe, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Reader character is not the MC who went to RAD but is a post RAD MC, Mammon has changed after going to RAD, I do not know if there will be smut in this so I’m tagging it T for now, fluff, gender-neutral reader, race-neutral reader.

A/n: I'm not sure how many chapters there will be but this is a multi-chapter fic. I thought of this while working at my office job and wished I had a coworker like Mammon to crush on. I think he'd make a good office worker because then he'd find a reason to try to work towards something. Check it out on AO3.

Masterlist

Mammon is standing over your desk, looking down at you quizzically. He rests one of the cups on your desk and sips the other.

“What…what are you doing here?” you blurt out.

“Coffee,” he says, “I’m here to have coffee with ya.”

You look at the cup on your desk. You hold it and it’s hot to the touch. You sip it. It’s exactly the way you like to drink coffee. He remembered your conversations, after all.

“I mean, why are you on my floor? In my department?” you ask.

“You, uh, haven’t been around for two weeks,” he says and you notice his face has a tint of red, “Are you avoiding me?”

Yes.

“No… not at all,” you lie.

His brow furrows. “It sure looked like ya did just now on the first floor.”

Shit.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you.

“Put your number in my phone,” he says casually.

You open your mouth to talk but nothing comes out. You were taken aback. You take his phone and quietly type in your phone number.

“And why am I doing this?” you ask as you type.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he asks, “Just wanted to make it official.”

You feel your face heat up. You look down at your shoes to hide your blush.

“Yes,” you finally say, “Friends.”

Friendship. That’s what you really wanted since moving to Devildom. With Mammon you would also like a bit more but this new advancement is fine, too.

“Listen,” he says, taking a seat at the edge of your table, “I really do work through lunch and can’t hang then but if you want, we can have coffee sometimes.”

You guess you didn’t hide your reaction to his no that well. Was he that perceptive? Or were you just that much obvious?

“I’d… like that,” you say, smiling.

He grins. “Great! Uh, well, now that we’re havin’ coffee, tell me some stuff about yourself. Stuff I don’t know.”

“What would you like to know?” you ask, “I’m an open book.”

“Well, why are you in Devildom? What made ya leave?”

“The cost of living is low and I get paid enough to actually live on my own. I also think I needed to shake things up. The Human world was getting pretty boring.”

“Oh,” he says raising a eyebrow, “the human world has been fun for me but maybe it’s because I ain’t from there. Devildom is pretty borin’.”

“Well,” you say, “It’s interesting getting to know the culture here. I do wish people here were nicer to me. I’m not sure if it’s the culture or if it’s because I’m a human.”

“It’s probably because you’re a human,” he alludes with a sigh, “I think a lot of demons still look down on humans. The student exchange program with angels and humans livin’ here went well but not everyone changed their opinions on humans and angels.”

With this new information, you’re not sure how to react. You guess that it makes sense why no one ever smiles at you or is polite. No one besides Mammon.

“If all of that is true,” you say, “Then why are you nice to me?”

He thinks for a moment and then says, “I went to RAD with humans and angels from the exchange program. I still mightn’t like the angels that much and I didn’t like one of the humans, but the other one was my friend. I used to feel the same way most demons felt about humans and I didn’t even like that one human at first, but we got so close. They were even my best friend at some point.”

Mammon was friends with a human before you? You thought you were the first human he knew but it made sense why he was so easy to be around.

“Do you still keep in contact with them?” you ask.

“Well…” he drawls, “Sorta. It got awkward at the end when before they went back to the human world.”

“Like how?” you pry.

“I’ll tell ya another time,” he says quickly and you swear you hear some sadness in those words, “Just not now.”

You realize that it might be a touchy topic for him and decide to let it go.

“Got it. Then why are you always working so late and working through lunch?” you ask. This question was the one that you always actually wanted to know.

“I’m in a lotta debt,” he says with a grimace after taking a sip of coffee.

That is surprising.

“Student debt?”

“No. Wait what’s that?”

“Debt you owe the government or private loan companies that paid for you to go to school.”

“What? No. That’s a thing? The Human World sounds terrible!”

You laugh. “Then who do you owe debt to?”

“Some witches,” he says, “And some demons. I got into a lotta trouble back in the day.”

“‘Back in the day’? You make it sound like you’re old,” you said, holding back a laugh as you sip your coffee.

“Yea, I’m like thousands of years old.”

And to that comment, you spit out your coffee.

“What?!” you exclaim, coughing.

Mammon laughs.

“Ya didn’t know that demons lived this long?” he asks with a grin, “Many of us in the office are over a hundred years old.”

This was news to you. You didn’t know how to feel about this. Mammon looked close to your age and it felt like he was, too. This, however, did not change the feelings you had towards him.

“I guess I’m always learning something new about this place and about you guys,” you say as you check your watch, “And with that, I should get to work.”

“Oh, right!” he exclaims, also checking his watch, “Time really flies, huh? I kinda don’t wanna go but we can do this again, right?”

“Right,” you affirm.

He grins at you and takes off towards the elevator.

“Same time, tomorrow?” he asks, nearly shouting from across the office as he presses the call button. This causes your supervisor to peek her head out of her office to glare at him.

“Yes!” you nearly shout back as he gets on.

He shoots you a thumbs up and with that he is gone.

You and Mammon have coffee nearly every day for a few weeks. The time is short but sweet. And when you are home, you text him and he texts you back. You don’t call him as you worry that would be weird. You usually save calls for people you’re close to.

You learn a lot of things about him. He has six brothers that all went to RAD with him. Lucifer was the oldest and gave him the most grief. Levi was the one that got on Mammon’s nerves the most and the rest, he was mostly okay with. He expressed that his brothers generally look down on him but otherwise show their love for him.

You tell him about your family and your human childhood, one that Mammon never had. You tell him about the family and friends that you left behind to chase financial security and independence. You express that moving out of your family’s house was a huge goal of yours that you had to achieve or you would go crazy and that living in Devildom finally made you feel like a real adult.

He tells you that’s been an “adult” for a long time but does not mention his childhood or what he even did before RAD. Maybe it was stupid to think, but you wondered if demons had similar childhoods to yours or if they were just created and were fully aware of the world. You do not ask him about his time before school. You assumed he’d share that information if he felt comfortable enough in your friendship.

With texting him and your morning coffee together, you still yearn for more. You want to pry and ask if he is taken or about any exes he had. When he mentioned being close to a human, there was a hint of loneliness in his voice. Was that human an ex?

You wonder when you and Mammon will be close enough to talk about these things. Will you have to make the first move to advance past coffee and texting about small stuff? What will this lead to?

You are still enamoured with Mammon but if the friendship deepens from just talking to being closer friends, would there be room for a romantic relationship? You weren’t even sure of the depth of your feelings for him.

He’s attractive. He’s kind. He has a great sense of humour. He’s easy to be around. You like being around him. You yearn to see more of him when you’re alone. Naturally, a crush would bloom from you for someone like that.

You did, however, not know anything deep enough about him to have more than a crush on him. But not knowing is part of why you wanted to get closer to him.

Another week goes by and your Monday starts with an email.

Season ’s greetings,

Hope you are all having a great day. There will be a Holiday party this coming Friday at the Pitch Fork Grand Hotel in ballroom 205. There will be games, drinks and food. You are free to bring a partner or plus one. I hope to see you all there and Happy Holidays!

Best,

Levardigus

CEO of Hellfire Industries

There was a Holiday party but for what Holiday? You never checked the Devildom calendar on your phone to know these things. With being so wrapped up in your work and letting Mammon take residence in your mind, you never stopped to think that Devildom even had Holidays.

You go through the motions of the week, taking calls from customers and replying to tickets in your queue. You don’t see Mammon this week. He texts you and tells you that this is a busy week and that his department was swamped with work before the Holiday but he doesn’t text you anything else.

You miss him and it’s lonely but you tell yourself that he will be free to see you again for morning coffee and send nightly texts. You decide time missing him will be better spent occupying your self with work.

And then, Friday finally comes.

You wake up much earlier than usual and try to dress nicely for once, opting to wear more jewelry and better shoes. You even spend extra time on your hair. You planned to spend this time trying to look good so that you don’t have to go home and change and go straight to the Holiday party after work.

You could not figure out what colour shirt to wear. For the December holidays in the Human world, most people wear specific colours. But this was in the middle of March and you still forgot to check which Holiday it was and didn’t search for the traditions surrounding it.

Black. You decide on black.

You want to look nice but not too nice. Will this seem like you’re trying too hard? Will it look like you’re desperate? Like you’re trying to seduce Mammon?

Seduce? What a joke. As if you could bag a demon like him.

You make it to work and note that Mammon is neither on the elevator nor at your desk to have morning coffee with you. You guess that he is still busy. You guess that you will see him at the Holiday party after work.

You remember that the email announcing the party on Monday mentioned that anyone could bring a partner or plus one. Partner? Is Mammon going to bring a partner? You still want to know if he’s taken. He is a hunk and it would be unsurprising if he is taken. But if he is, you’re not sure how you’d deal with the heartbreak.

You sigh and shoot him a text.

You ’re going to the holiday party, right?

He sends a text back moments later. You guess that meant he was finally finished with being swamped with work.

Holiday party? Laaaame. No. I ’m goin’ home.

You panic. You dressed all nice to impress him but he’s not even going. Should you go by yourself? You will look like a fool if you dressed nicer than usual just to go home but if you go alone you will have a terrible time. No one likes you and like Mammon said, demons do not like humans so it will be hard to make new friends.

You were hoping that this would finally be the chance you get to hang out with him outside of work.

He sends you another text.

Are you goin ’?

You respond.

I was going to go because it ’s my first ever Holiday Party but if you’re not going, never mind.

You see a reply bubble of him typing a text and it then it goes away. It starts up again as he starts typing and it goes away again.

You stare at your phone, waiting for him to type a response but there is no more of the chat bubble. You frown. You guess that he will respond when he’s able to.

You finish the work day after mulling in self-pity. You decide after thinking hard about it, that you will go home, open a bottle of wine and read fanfiction. You tidy up your desk and grab your bag and start to head to the elevator. And there is Mammon.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you say back, with surprise in your voice, “What’s…up?”

“I’m takin’ ya to the Holiday Party!” he grins.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me fandom #obey me mammon #obey me fanfiction #obey me reader #obey me!#obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x you #obey me mammon x mc #Strictly Professional

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makeadealwithdean · 2 years

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'tis the damn season - part 5

‘tis the damn season (a college/hometown au) - Part 5

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Tags (cw updated by ch.): soooo much fluff, THEY FINALLY GO ON THEIR DATE, taylor swift vibes, dean hating his job (subtly though), dean’s so soft, no beta- we die like men

Series Summary: It’s Christmas break, and Y/N is headed home for the holidays. But with her hometown, comes thoughts of her high school boyfriend, Dean, and what they might’ve had if she’d taken the other road. When she runs into Dean, she can’t help but wonder if they can rekindle the spark between them.

Word Count: 2.5k

Divider: @firefly-graphics

a/n: it's me, hi, i'm the problem, it's me. cause i haven't updated this fic in forever, but i really want to continue this story, and lucky for me, the fall weather, halloween, just the season feelings in general, brought me inspiration to continue. i think that inspiration will stick around through the holidays. so if you're still reading/if you remember this story, thank you, thank you, i love you ❤️

Main Masterlist // Playlist // Dean Masterlist

AO3 // Part 4

Y/N breezed through the door, hurrying in from the cold. She smiled when she saw Dean sitting at their old table and started to make her way over to him. The heels of her boots clicked on the wooden floor as she walked, and her trench coat swished around her knees. She looked just as beautiful as Dean had imagined, probably even more so.

He stood to greet her, reaching to take her bag from her shoulder, his hand brushing the back of her elbow as she allowed him to take the straps of the tote. “Hey, Y/N,” Dean spoke softly — gently. Almost as if he was worried he’d scare her off. “Thanks for comin’ to see me. M’real glad you did.”

He looked at her with the most sincerity, green eyes timid, but hopeful. A soft smile played along the corners of his lips, and Y/N could feel her self-resolve melting. Her determination not to let him smash every wall she’d worked so hard to put up after their relationship had ended the first time was already fading, and she hadn’t even sat down with him yet.

Dean pulled out her chair for her — Ever the gentleman — and hung her bag gently on the back of it. She gave him a small, but not unkind, smile, “Me too. It’ll be good to catch up with you.”

“Yeah,” Dean leaned back on his heels once she’d sat down and settled into the familiar wooden chair. He was still smiling softly, like he was trying not to but simply couldn’t help himself. He let his hands drop onto his thighs gently, “Can I buy your coffee? Haven’t ordered yet or anything, just figured I’d get both together.”

“Oh,” Y/N let out a slightly nervous giggle. “That’s sweet, but Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“Please, let me?” Dean tilted his head a bit, and Y/N was reminded instantly of a begging puppy. “I really want to.”

She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. This wasn’t a date. She hesitated, but the look on his face told her he genuinely did want to do this for her. She guessed Dean could sense her debating with herself because he added softly, rocking back and forth slightly, nervously, “Just as friends.”

Well, as long as he understood that, what harm could it do? She gave him a real smile this time, because yeah, it was sweet of him, “Sure, I’d love that. Thank you.”

“Hot vanilla latte?” he suggested, grinning, eyebrows raised as if he was tempting her.

Y/N laughed, “Can’t believe you remember my coffee order, but yes, that sounds awesome.”

“Thought so,” Dean smirked proudly, obviously pleased that she’d noticed his attention to detail. “Be right back.”

Y/N watched his familiar gait as he approached the counter, before pulling her phone out and shooting off a text to Charlie.

Y/N: At the coffee shop with Dean, and I’ve only been here two minutes, and I can already feel myself missing how we used to be. Tell me I’m crazy.

The three dots appeared as Charlie immediately started typing back. Y/N looked up towards the counter where Dean was talking to the barista. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

Charlie: HA i was right!!! i knew you’d start falling for him again

Y/N: Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody’s FALLING for anyone. I’m just feeling nostalgic because he remembered my coffee order. And he’s being really sweet, but I am NOT looking for a relationship rn. Especially not getting back with my ex. So tell me I’m insane.

Charlie: girl i’m not gonna say that, i know you’re not looking for something atm, but the best things come along when you aren’t seeking them out. just go with it! let yourself give him a chance, maybe he’ll surprise you ;)

Y/N: Ugh, you’re no help. That is not what I needed to hear. Gotta go, he’s coming back.

Charlie: just speaking the truth. you’re telling me everything after!

Y/N: Yeah, yeah.

Dean sat down across from her and set her latte down gently in front of her, his own in his other hand. Y/N immediately curled her hands around the outside of the cup, wanting to warm her still-chilled fingers, “Thanks, Dean.” She rewarded him with a genuine smile, and he returned it, “S’nothin’. Least I could do.”

“Well, still, thank you,” Y/N cleared her throat. “So, tell me about work! How’s everything going with that?”

“Ah,” Dean hesitated like he was choosing his words carefully. “Well, I’m still with my dad’s company, which… y’know, it is what it is.” He finished all in a rush, shrugging like he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t bother him, didn’t matter.

Y/N didn’t want to pry. After all, Dean seemed pretty hesitant to talk about it, and his future, his job, his dad — those were the things that had caused a rift between them the first time around. Maybe he felt like this was treading dangerously close to addressing their history, their past problems. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it then, so no way would he wanna talk about it now, Y/N thought.

And yet, she wanted him to be happy — and she needed to know if he was, for her own peace of mind. They were there, meeting, talking. At Dean’s request, might she add, and he knew damn well how she was when it came to the people she cared for’s well-being. So maybe she was prying just a bit, but — “And how is it?” she asked him simply, not wanting to lead his answer one way or the other.

“Um, well, you know my dad,” Dean circled his own hands around his cup, resting his elbows on the tabletop. His eyes held just the tiniest bit of tiredness. If Y/N hadn’t known him so well, she probably never would’ve noticed. “He’s not the easiest guy to get along with, all the time, and the job itself,” he shrugged again, “it’s not bad, but it’s…not — well, it’s work, y’know?”

Dean tried to laugh it off, make a joke, but Y/N could read him like a giant, neon billboard on a dark night. She knew exactly where that sentence had been going — it’s not bad, but it’s not what I want.

He was trying to pass it off like it was purely the fact that it was a job— that he had to work at all— that was making him unhappy. That wasn’t it at all, and they both knew it. Dean loved to work, needed it even. Working, provided it was something he loved, made him happy. But she knew she shouldn’t say anything. She shouldn’t insert herself into Dean and his father’s business, not again.

So, she just nodded, smiled softly, “Mhmm, I know what you mean. How’s the Impala then?” She’d seen the black, angular vehicle parked out front, and she just knew her taking an interest in the car would bring back the ease in Dean’s smile.

She was right, of course. Dean smiled proudly, “My baby’s runnin’ just as smooth as ever. Just gave her a quick tune-up myself. Ironed out any possible kinks, and now she’s purring like a house-cat.”

Y/N chuckled. Dean’s love for that car rivaled most anything she’d ever seen, and honestly, she found it pretty cute. Sure, maybe it was a bit odd, but the passion, or intensity even— the fact that he cared so much was something she found attractive. Or had found attractive, she reminded herself. Not anymore— she’d let the past be the past. She had to, for her own sake. “She looks just as pretty as I remember. You’ve taken good care of her,” she said, still giggling slightly.

“Of course I have, sweetheart! Only the best for her, and I do all the work on her myself. Don’t trust any garages or anythin’ like that.”

“I’m impressed,” Y/N raised her eyes in appreciation, “but honestly, Dean, I expected nothing less.”

He laughed, and Y/N once again had to yank her mind away from thoughts about how pretty he was when he smiled. Any tension present had melted away though, and she was grateful for that. “But what about you then?” Dean started, gesturing towards her and then back towards himself. “Tell me about school, hit me. I wanna hear it all!”

So she told him everything— from her first semester struggles with difficult classes, being away from home for the first time, to the friends she’d found, a couple she’d lost even, and he listened to it all. Nodding along with her as she talked animatedly. Asking questions in all the right places. She’d nearly forgotten how good of a listener he could be. And it felt good to talk about it all to someone with an outside perspective. Going to her university really was what she wanted. Pursuing a higher level of education and a degree had always been her dream, and she was happy to be chasing that, but it definitely wasn’t easy all the time. And Dean sympathized with her, encouraged her, just as he always had.

Dean. He really was the most selfless person she’d ever met. Since she’d met him, she must’ve seen him give up his own wishes to fulfill those of others dozens of times. Some of those were small instances — working more to earn a little extra to help his brother go on that field trip with his class, canceling his own plans to help his father with a project at work. Even things for her while they’d been dating — like that time he’d bailed on guy’s night so he could take her to see that movie she’d been so excited about on opening night. Other things he’d sacrificed hadn’t been so small. Like his decision to work with his father’s company instead of pursuing the career he’d wanted.

Y/N wondered what that even was, his dream career. He’d never said. Even when she’d asked him what it was he really wanted to do with his life, he’d never say. Always insisted that going into business with his dad was what he wanted, that he liked the job. It had always been very obvious to her that that simply wasn’t the case, but no amount of begging or pleading or pushing him to take his own path was going to change his mind. He was much too stubborn for that.

Y/N, however, had an inkling of what Dean might want to choose for his career, given the chance. She’d seen the way he was with the Impala. She’d have to be blind not to, of course — he called the car “Baby” and took care of it with a similar level of tenderness as he’d taken care of her while they were together. He was always working on her when he had a few spare minutes, fixing and tuning up until she looked and sounded brand new.

She didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, or make the same mistake that’d caused so many problems for them senior year, but she was already telling him so much about her school that it seemed like a natural segue. The university was beautiful. It had a campus she loved and a college town that had just about everything. Including a trade school with a great mechanic certification program. She knew about its stellar reputation through a classmate and friend she’d met her first year who’d gone through the program and now worked at the garage in town.

Maybe she shouldn’t mention it at all, she hadn’t seen Dean in years. Probably dropping hints about his choice of careers wouldn’t be much appreciated, but God, the more she watched him sit there and listen to her talk, the more she wanted happiness for him. Surely just the mention of the program couldn’t hurt.

She couldn’t help herself.

“Y’know, actually, speaking of my friend, he wound up going to the trade school that’s also right next to the university. See, he wanted to be a mechanic really badly, and funnily enough, they have a really awesome mechanic certification program. So he went through that, and loved it! Now, he works at the garage in town, helps me out a lot when my car needs something done. Kinda reminded me of you that way.”

She tilted her head smiling at him, praying he wouldn’t take anything she’d said the wrong way. But she must’ve been worried for nothing, because Dean just raised his eyebrows and nodded. The expression on his face read as if she’d just told him something he found mildly interesting.

“Well, now, that’s really good that you’ve found someone to help you out with that kinda stuff while you’re up at school. Sounds like you’ve made good friends and that you’re really loving it. I’m glad. Always knew you’d do great.”

Dean’s words caused a rush of affection to spring to her heart. “Yeah. Yeah, my friends are the best, and I mean, like I’ve been saying, it’s tough sometimes. It’s college. But the good parts are really awesome.”

“I’m glad, Y/N,” Dean smiled warmly. “But you do know” he raised his eyebrows at her playfully “that if you ever have any car troubles at home — hell, if you have any troubles at home, period, you can always come to me, ‘n I’ll do whatever I can to help you out.” He waggled his finger at her like he was jokingly scolding her. “Don’t ever think that just cause we aren’t…y’know, that you can’t come to me for stuff. I mean, look at us, gettin’ coffee as friends— I can still fix your car as a friend.”

He said it all jokingly, but she could see the sincerity there, and it softened her heart just a little. So what if they maybe still had feelings for each other? Would that really be so bad? She couldn’t deny that sitting here with him caused old feelings to come rushing back. She tried to stamp them down, but that smile of his, those eyes looking at her so sweetly — how could she chase away the best memories of her time with him?

Her thoughts bled through in a suddenly shy smile, and she took an interest in design on the coffee cup still in her hand. She stared down at the cup as she answered him, but the warmth in her voice probably betrayed her anyway, “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate that.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, sipping his drink carefully, like he too was remembering their greatest hits together.

Suddenly, Dean sat forward on his elbows, smiling like he’d just thought of a great idea, “Hey, do you wanna go look at Christmas lights with me?” The grin on his face was so earnest and childlike that Y/N couldn’t help but match it. Not to mention she was a sucker for Christmas lights. How could she turn him down?

a/n: thank you so much for reading! please leave me a comment or reblog cause feedback is golden!!

Tagging:

Forevers: @evergreencowboy @deanwanddamons @katelyn--renee @lassie-bird @jensengirl83 @superfanficnatural @wayward-dreamer @that-one-gay-girl @writercole @flamencodiva

SPN: @meeshw777 @sexyvixen7 @beth-gallagher22 @deanwinchesterwifesblog @blueeyedchaos @maliburenee @deanssliceofcherrypie @jordyn-laufeyson

Dean Winchester: @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @spnfangirl1314 @deandreamernp @happyt0exist @panicking-outside-the-disco @saahmi @fanfic-n-tabulous @lessons-of-red

‘tis the damn season: @stoneyggirl2

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean x you #'tis the damn season #spn #supernatural

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facewithoutheart · 1 year

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Thanks for the tag @forabeatofadrum & @captain-aralias! Y’all know I can’t resist the opportunity to brag about my fics; I appreciate ya.

Tagging @martsonmars @palimpsessed @tea-brigade @aristocratic-otter @sillyunicorn because I haven’t seen y’all tagged and I’d love to see your lists.

AO3 Top 10 vs My Top 10

AO3 Top 10:

A Crack in the Wall [Drarry, Jily, Wolfstar, 39k, Teen]

The Wrong Sider [Drarry, Draco & Scorpius, 66k, Teen]

We Were Always More, my WIP that @captain-aralias finished [Snowbaz, 9k, Teen]

Thirst Trapped [Snowbaz, 16k, Mature]

Shiver, @captain-aralias’s fic that I finished [Snowbaz, 7k, Mature]

On a Scale of One to Ten How Much Do You Want to Date Me Right Now [Snowbaz, 10k, Teen]

Dancing with Molly [Snowbaz, 8k, Teen]

What Am I Now? [Drarry, 600, Teen]

Seven Minutes, collab with @captain-aralias [Snowbaz, 7k, Mature]

This Will All Go Down In Flames, COBB 2022 with @tea-brigade [Snowbaz, 77k, Expicit]

Not surprising that my Drarry fics rank higher than Snowbaz fics, given the size of that fandom, but I’m glad This Will All Go Down In Flames cracked the top 10 despite being relatively new. And can I start a kudos-petition to get What Am I Now? And Dancing With Molly knocked out of my top 10? How embarrassing.

Also not surprised to see my collabs with @captain-aralias rank so high; those are such fun fics and I’m glad they are liked.

My list after the break.

My Top 5 (in no particular order, with commentary at the end)

I tend to suffer from recency bias when it comes to my fics, but it’s no surprise to me that my more conceptual stories tend to be my favorite (even though it doesn’t make them popular).

His Mercy, Mine [Snowbaz, 6k, Mature]. One of the most complicated things I’ve ever written. I haven’t reread it in awhile so hopefully it’s still as good as I remember.

And We Still Do [Snowbaz, 8k, Teen]. Another convoluted plot which required me to write five elaborate backstories for short fics LOL. But such a good stretch of my writing muscles and probably the reason I’m so burnt out on worldbuilding.

The Wedding Bet [Snowbaz, 16k, Teen]. Proof that I do my most ambitious shit when it’s a gift for someone else LOL. @martsonmars’s favorite is secretly dating but you don’t find out until the very end and I was fucking dedicated to making that happen. I tried out three other rivals to lovers AUs before settling on a HIMYM AU.

This Will All Go Down In Flames [Snowbaz, 77k, Explict]. I still dream about this fic. I fantasize about it being a movie. I drool over Baz and Simon sing-fucking on stage. This fic lives in my bones. If you read one thing by me, it’d better damn well be this fic.

in death, dignity & in death as in life [Snowbaz, 3k total, Teen]. I’m cheating in that this is actually a series but I love these two so much as companion pieces. These are fics that channeled themselves through me; I barely even remember writing them. They tackle a subject I spent a lot of time researching in college but never really considered the human aspect of until I saw a picture of someone grieving their loved one and basically couldn’t stop crying until I wrote the first fic. The second fic I wrote to heal from the first one. Maybe one day I’ll write a third in the series, aka Christina tackles the afterlife, but not today.

Recent honorable mentions to Enter Bastard and blame it on the spray because I’m proud of them for the time being.

#snowbaz #fanfic #spicy links #my writing #list meme

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middleearthpixie · 1 year

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Seven Days ~ Chapter Fifteen

Seven Days - Modern Tolkien AU

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long.

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late?

A/N - This story is the sequel to Miss Fortune, but is a stand alone story.

Summary: Frerin tells Syd the truth about his being given a second chance…

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Frerin, Syd, Tori, Tony DiBenedetto, Steve Wheeler

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,084

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc

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Previous chapters can be found here.

Frerin reluctantly pulled his hand free to keep on the wheel as the roads grew slicker by the minute. Snow swirled in all directions and he breathed a silent sigh of relief when he angled into the lot behind the firehouse and parked next to Tony DiBenedetto’s Dodge Ram 1500. “It’s probably a good thing you’re agreeable to staying close to home,” he said, glancing over at her before he killed the engine.

“I’m pretty leery of the Parkway on a good day, never mind a snowy night.”

“Yeah? Why? I mean, we all hate the Parkway, but leery of it?”

She looked over at him. “My mom and dad were killed in a wreck on the Parkway. The summer after I graduated high school.”

“Oh, shit, Syd, I didn't know. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks but why would you? It was a long time ago, and the guy who hit them hadn’t slept in something like two or three days. Still, on a night like tonight? I’d rather not be on it.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He tugged the keys from the ignition. “Are you sure you want to be subjected to these guys?”

“How bad can they be?”

He just stared at her a moment. “Do you really want an answer to that?”

Even in the barely-there light afforded by the streetlights, he saw her cheeks redden. She blushed more easily than any woman he’d ever known and she’d kill him if she knew how it turned him on. There was just something so hot about how it took so little to make her cheeks go pink.

“I’m kidding,” he said, offering up a silent prayer to the Big Guy to not make a liar of him. Normally, they were all fairly well-behaved around wives and girlfriends, but no one was perfect and every now and again, manners were forgotten. Hopefully tonight would not be one of those times.

He climbed out and came around to her side as she did the same. Her hand found its way into his, a soft jolt rippling along his arm at the contact. He glanced down, wondering if she’d felt it as well, but she looked up at the rear of the station. It was a typical red-brick firehouse, the metal staircase at the back leading up to the second floor barrack. A door just beneath it led to the four-bay garage and as they stepped inside, Frerin squinted at the brightness of the lights after the darkness of the parking lot.

“Hey, Durin, what’re you doing here? Don’t you have a life—oh, sorry, man, didn’t see you had someone with you.”

Frerin smiled as Syd’s fingers tightened about his. “I’m here because I have a life, but apparently not a functioning brain. I left my wallet in my locker.” He looked from Tony to Syd. “Tony DiBenedetto, Syd Prescott. Syd, Tony. Don’t worry, his bark is weak and his bite weaker still.”

“You wish,” Tony shot back with a grin, which he then turned on Syd. “It’s nice to meet you, Syd. Your family owns the spook—er—mystical shop, don’t they?”

Frerin bit back a wince, but Syd just smiled and nodded. “We do and it’s okay to call it a spook shop. I promise you, we don’t get offended by that.”

“Oh, thank God,” Tony breathed. “My wife gets stuff from there all the time, so I really didn't mean it as an insult.”

“Okay, I’m just going to show Syd around, grab my wallet, and then get out of here before I find myself yanked on duty. Who else is on tonight?”

“Full house tonight. You’ve been warned.”

“Got it.” Frerin let go of Syd’s hand and let his come to rest at the small of her back. Heat from her body sank into his palm and the urge to just pull her into his arms and kiss her nearly overwhelmed him. But instead, he said, “I’ll give you the tour.”

“Lead on,” she said, smiling up at him.

He felt that smile clear through to the core of his being. Was this what the Big Guy wanted for him? What if the wrong he had to right had nothing to do with not calling Syd back in August, but everything to do with falling in love with her. Maybe the wrong was being with Lisa and not with Syd. He didn't know, but as he led her about the apparatus bay, where the engines were parked, and the equipment was kept, and answered her questions and watched as the other firefighters greeted her (and behaved) and how she smiled and easily conversed with them, he had the feeling that might have been it after all. He didn't know. All he did know was that for the first time in his life, he was happy. Truly happy. Content. He didn't feel the need to try to impress Syd. Didn't feel the need to brag about her—or more aptly, brag about sleeping with her. He wasn't worried about what other women were out there, and what he might be missing out on by settling down with one. In fact, it was just the opposite. As he watched Syd chatting away with Tony, Frerin realized he didn't want to leave her. Ever. He wanted to stay right there, with her, for the rest of his life.

He’d told Thorin he was in love with Syd. He’d told Tori the same. He wanted to tell Syd how he felt. But, what if he did and he scared her off? Then, come tomorrow…

His gut curdled and a sour taste flooded his mouth. A hint of panic gnawed at his insides. He was almost out of time. And he had no way of knowing whether or not he’d done what the Big Guy told him he had to do. He wouldn’t know, until it was too late.

“Frerin?”

Syd’s soft voice broke through his troubling reverie and he jumped. “Yeah? What?”

“Are you all right? You went pale for a minute.”

“I’m fine. Just—just tired.” He turned to her. “Why don’t I get my wallet and we can go grab a bite to eat?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I am. Just tired, like I said.” He bit back a sigh as he met her beautiful aqua eyes. He had to tell her. He wanted to tell her.

He just didn't know how she’d take hearing it.

That was the risky part.

“Are you sure?”

His heart began to beat what seemed like a thousand times a minute and his stomach was alive with butterflies. Or nervous knots. Or maybe they were the same thing. He didn't know. But his blood roared through his veins and his pulse pounded through his temples and his mouth went dry as he said, “Syd, there’s some—”

“Durin? What’re you doing here? Were’t you here when I came on this morning?”

Frerin swallowed the curse bubbling to his lips as he turned to Steve Wheeler. “Yeah, and I left my wallet here. Hopefully you guys will have a quiet night, but don’t count on it. It’s snowing like a bitch out there.”

“We can handle it.” Steve glanced over at Syd and smiled. “Hey, Lisa, right?”

Frerin’s gut kinked as Syd offered up a mild smile. “No, I’m not Lisa.”

“Oh… shit…” Steve’s eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, man. I thought you were—oh, I should just shut up, shouldn’t I?”

“This is Syd. Syd, this is Steve. He’s the resident dickhead.”

To her credit, Syd held out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Syd. And I’m really sorry about that. I didn't know Frerin was lucky enough to meet another cute girl.”

“Meet her? I’ve known this cute girl since high school,” Frerin said, breathing an inward sigh of relief as her hand found its way back into his and her fingers threaded with his. Those slender fingers tightened around his and without thinking, he squeezed back.

“And I’m only finding out about her now? That is a shame.”

Frerin grinned. “Yeah, too bad for you, huh? Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get my wallet and take my girlfriend out to dinner. See you, Wheeler.”

He didn't wait for Steve to reply, but gave a gentle tug on Syd’s hand and led her around Wheeler and up the stairs to the common area. As they crested the top step, she looked up at him. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah. I mean, since neither one of us is seeing anyone else, it makes sense.”

“Do I have to call you my boyfriend? That sounds so seventh grade.”

He winked at her. “Yeah, actually. I want to be known as your boyfriend. I think that’s how you should introduce me to everyone. I don’t even need a name. Just call me the boyfriend.”

“Frerin.”

“What?”

“Frerin!”

He chuckled and then bent to brush her lips with what he’d meant to be a quick kiss. But then, to his surprise, she caught his face in her hands and what started out as a quick kiss morphed into a slow, deep, tender kiss unlike any he’d ever had before. Her thumbs moved along his cheeks, her tongue caressed his, and when she drew back, he couldn't help himself as he whispered, “Damn, honey… what was that for?”

“Because you want me to call you the boyfriend.”

He grinned. “Let me get my wallet. I’ll be right back. Don’t let any of these guys hit on you, okay?”

“I’ll fight them off if I have to.”

“There are axes on the trucks if you need one. I’ll be right back.” He gestured to the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable. It’ll only take me a minute or two.”

“I’ll be fine, Frerin. Go.”

He turned to make his way into the locker room and as he opened his locker, Tori said, “You didn't tell her.”

“Would you stop that?”

“Why? You didn't even jump that time.”

He glared at her. “That doesn’t mean I like you popping out at me, you know. And no, I didn't tell her. I have tonight and tomorrow and I will tell her.”

“Frerin, you must tell her. Before tomorrow. The Big Guy said—”

“I know what He said.” He reached up to the top shelf, where his wallet was exactly where he’d left it, then glared at her. “And I have to be careful with this, Tori. Imagine how freaked out she’ll be when I tell her I’m the walking dead.”

“You aren’t dead, Frerin. You’re as alive as everyone else around you.”

“Right now. But I was dead last Thursday and I’ll be dead this Friday if I don’t handle this right. He’s got to understand that.”

She sighed softly and his gut kinked. “What? Did I screw this up?”

“No,” she shook her head, “you haven’t. You figured it out pretty quickly, actually and I think you actually impressed the Big Guy.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Just reminding you, is all. You’ve only got—”

“Tonight and tomorrow. I know.” Frerin leaned against the locker. He stared down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at her. “Look, I don’t know if you can even answer this or not, but I don’t remember what it was like. Dying, I mean. Can you just ask Him, if I don’t get this right, to make sure it doesn’t hurt? I mean, I know that’s really chickenshit of me, but… not knowing it was going to happen the last time, on top of not remembering what it was like, was one thing. I don’t have that luxury now and I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t really weighed on me.”

Tori’s eyes softened. “I’ll see what I can do. I think He’ll be agreeable. He’s not looking to punish you.”

Frerin nodded, a sigh rising to his lips. “And, one more thing. If I mess this up, maybe my family could not suffer so much? It almost killed my mom. Maybe He can find a way to ease up their grief a little? Especially Thorin. He ends up in a pretty dark place.”

“Sure. Again, I’ll see what I can do.”

“One more thing and I swear, it’s the last.” He glanced toward the doorway, as if he could see Syd, which he couldn’t, of course. Not the it mattered. She was permanently seared into his brain. “I don’t want Syd mourning me, okay?”

“You’ve mentioned all of this already, and I asked the Big Guy, just for clarification. Frerin,” Tori’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, “if it goes wrong, she won’t remember any of this. It will never have happened. The timeline will be as it was before.”

That stung, the pang swift and sharp, but even so, he nodded. “So, she’ll remember I screwed her and then vanished.” He drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “It’s probably for the best that way. And maybe I can make sure she meets a decent guy, then—” those words hurt to say, as the thought of her with another guy kinked his guts sharply, but he meant it as he added, “she should be happy. I’ll have fucked it up, but maybe the next guy won’t.”

“Sure. We’ll both make sure, okay?”

He nodded, the lump in his throat making speaking impossible as he turned back toward the common area. He cleared his throat and whispered, “I love her. I want her to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

He closed his eyes. They stung. His heart hurt. But at least he knew that his family would be okay. Thorin would be okay.

Syd would be okay.

“Frerin?” Syd’s voice floated toward him. “Are you all right?”

He peered over his shoulder toward the doorway to the locker room. “I should get back—” He turned to find Tori gone—“to Syd… yeah, if I fuck this up, I will never do this to Thorin again.”

“Frerin?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had trouble finding my damn wallet, is all,” he came out of the locker room to find her leaning against the back of the sofa, “but I’ve got it now, so we can go.”

He’d lost count of how many times over the last five days that she’d looked at him with a furrowed brow and confused eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He forced a smile to his lips as he slid an arm about her waist to pull her up against him. Selfish, but he wanted to put off the inevitable as long as he possibly could, because he had the feeling she would not react well.

“Frerin, you look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders,” she murmured, curving a hand against his cheek. “What is it?”

Her touch was so gentle, her thumb grazing along his cheek. His eyes grew so heavy with the caress, and if they were alone, he’d probably melt into a puddle at her feet. But, he heard the footsteps on the stair treads and so drew back and said, “We should just go. You’ve got to be hungry by now and I promised you dinner.”

“I’m fine.” Her hand went still on him. “Frerin?”

“There’s nothing wrong, Syd. It’s just a long week, is all.”

She didn't look as if she believed him and he held his breath as he waited for her to push harder. But instead, she rose onto her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers. “If you say so,” she whispered before lowering.

“It is, really.” He eased his other arm about her waist. “So, let’s go grab dinner and then go home and get to dessert.”

The sparkle in her eyes heated his blood, as did her whispered, “Or we could just skip dinner and do dessert instead?”

Dominic’s was the Italian place to go to in Cranford Falls, and Syd looked over at Frerin as he carefully angled the Jeep into a parking spot. He still looked so serious—more so than she’d ever seen him look and while that didn't mean a whole lot, it still troubled her. She knew if she asked again, he’d just tell her nothing was wrong and he’d probably be annoyed that she couldn’t let it go, but she couldn't let it go. A sense of foreboding had crept through the Jeep, one that she hadn’t felt before, and her stomach fluttered, the way it did before she went to get a cavity filled or when she watched a scary movie where something awful was about to happen to the character she was rooting for.

He killed the ignition and pulled the key from the switch. The snow had thankfully stopped, but it as such a light, powdery one that it swirled with each gust of wind, so at times, the air was filled with sparkly particles blowing in all directions.

“Frerin?”

“Syd, nothing’s wrong. I told you, it’s just been a really long week.”

She pressed her lips together, drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, saying, “I know I keep bugging you about it, but I can’t help it.”

“You’re not bugging me.” He looked over at her then and offered up an almost-wistful smile. “It’s actually kind of nice, since the only women who ever really fuss over me are my mom and Dís. But, I promise you, everything is fine.”

“You’ll tell me if my fussing annoys you?”

He shook his head. “It won’t.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

He grinned and winked. “Why would I lie about that?”

He didn't wait for her to answer, but thrust open his door and climbed out, so she did the same. Coming around the nose of the Jeep, she said, “True. Men live to be fussed over.”

“We do,” he caught her around the waist and tugged her close, “because we are sensitive and like to be cared for.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“What? You don’t think I’m sensitive?” He loomed over her, his eyes glittering in the soft halo of light cast by the streetlamp in the parking lot. “I can’t watch movies with animals in them because they make me cry.”

“What?”

“True story, honey. Ask Thorin if you don’t believe me. He used to pick on me mercilessly about it.”

“Do you really cry over them?”

“Yeah. Why would I make that up? It doesn’t exactly make me look like a tough guy.”

“I don’t know I’d say that. You’re still a tough guy, Frerin.”

“Good. At least I still have that going for me.”

The wind picked up then, stirring his dark hair into short peaks and sent more snow swirling about them. His eyes grew serious once more and that foreboding feeling swept through her as she realized his aura had begun to change. It was rare to see it actually happen, but it grew redder, while the green softened and the blue deepened.

“Frerin, something is going on with you. I can see it. I can literally see it. Please, tell me.”

“Syd, I—”

“What? What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Syd. And I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen years old and in the ninth grade and didn't even know what the fuck love was.”

That was the last thing she expected him to say and for a moment, it felt as if her heart had stopped beating, as if all of the air had been sucked out of the world at that very moment. She stared up at him, her blood roaring through her temples as she whispered, “What?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s insane, right? We’ve only gone out a couple of times, but… yeah, I am. And you’re looking at me like you’re afraid I’ve lost my mind, but I’m not crazy. I promise you that, Syd. I’m not. I was just… I was stupid and blind and didn't see what was right in front of me.”

“Frerin,” she swallowed hard as she met those soft blue eyes, “you know that’s nuts, right?”

“Why?”

“Because what does a guy like you see in—”

“Christ, Syd, don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t give me that crap about a guy like me. I know what I was. I was a selfish asshole who was too scared to call you because… because you’re too fucking good for me.”

“Oh, please. That’s a load of bullshit and you know it.”

“Syd, I’ve been fantasizing about you since I was fourteen years old.”

“That is not love.”

“No, but I’m not fourteen any more, either. I know what love is now, and it’s been staring me in the face for the last four months and I just didn't see it. And now I do and—and I want to see what comes next. With you. And with any luck, I’ll actually live to see my thirtieth birthday now, so—”

He realized his mistake as her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Nothing, Syd. It’s—it’s nothing.”

“No, what do you mean, you’ll actually live to see your thirtieth birthday now?” She pulled free of him, stepping back to stare up at him. “What is this about, Frerin Durin? And I want the truth. And don't you dare tell me it’s nothing!”

“Syd,” he stepped back, breaking contact with her and she knew she wasn't imaging the pain in his eyes, “I don’t even know where to begin with this, so, I’m just going come out and tell you, okay?”

“Tell me what?”

His expression grew more serious than she’d ever imagined it could. “Syd, I know this will sound completely crazy, but I swear to Christ, I’m not making it up. I’m not lying. I’m not bullshitting you.”

“Frerin.”

“Okay. I—holy shit, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Try the beginning.” She couldn't keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“Last Friday, when I came into your shop, I—uh—that morning, before I woke up in my own bed, in my own house, I was… I was—uh—I was dead.”

She just stared at him, a prickle racing along the back of her neck. “You were what?”

“Dead. Yeah, I know how it sounds, but it wasn’t December until I opened my eyes. It was June, maybe July, I don’t know. I just know it was summer next year. But time has no meaning on the other side, Syd, so it all blends together. But this December, this moment right now, never happened. None of the last week happened. I was killed in a fire, one set deliberately at my house. Your sister wasn't seeing Thorin. I brought them together because I was able to come back and ask her to help find out who barbecued me.”

“You were killed.”

“Yes.”

“In a fire in your house?”

“Yes.”

“Deliberately.”

“Yes. Someone thought I was sniffing around his sister—which I wasn’t—and figured he’d make it loud and clear what happened when a guy did that. He burned my house down with me in it.”

“But, you’re not dead now.”

“I’m not, no. I was given a second chance.”

“By God?”

“We call him the Big Guy, but more or less, yes.” Frerin rubbed the back of his neck slowly. “He gave me the chance to come back. To right the biggest mistake I’d ever made.”

Her belly fluttered, butterflies coming to life by the hundreds, judging by the way they battered about her insides. Only this time, instead of spreading aroused heat through her, they instead sent ice whooshing through her veins, leaving her chilled and numb. “What?”

“You, Syd. Not calling you was the biggest mistake I’d ever made. I should’ve and I really did mean to, but I really did chicken out.”

“And now, you want to what? Make it up to me?”

“Yes, exactly.” He stepped closer. “I love you and I have for a long time and I was an asshole for not seeing it sooner.”

“Are you insane?” She stepped back, bumping up against the side of the Jeep. “You honestly expect me to believe this? To believe you’ve come back from the dead in order to win me over? That’s just… I can’t even with that.”

“Syd, I swear to you, I know it sounds crazy. But it’s the truth. And I wanted to tell you, but how the fuck do I even begin to?”

“So, this is how you get women to go out with you? To sleep with you? You feed them—”

“No, not women, Syd. You. It’s you. It’s been you since I was fourteen—”

“Are you kidding me? I’m supposed to believe that you’ve been pining for me for sixteen years? And when I did go out with you and sleep with you, you up and vanish and then you come back a few months later with this?”

“Syd, look, you have to believe me.”

“Oh, do I? Really? Why? What happens if I don’t? What could possibly happen if I don’t believe this utterly ridiculous story?”

His jaw tightened. “I die again. Tomorrow night. Only this time, I won’t get another chance.”

“You’ll die.”

“Yeah. That’s what I meant by with any luck, I’ll actually live to see my thirtieth birthday now. This was the wrong I had to right. I had to win you back, to tell you how I feel and just hope you believe me.”

“Because if I don’t, you’ll die. Again.”

A sick feeling swept through her as he nodded. “Yeah, that’s exactly what will happen. I’ll die sometime tomorrow night, and you won’t remember any of it. Your sister won’t be with Thorin—at least not until the next summer—and I’m gone. For good. I won’t get another chance to fix anything. My family buries me and life goes on without me.”

She could only stare at him, her brain refusing to listen to this utter nonsense. He sounded sincere enough, but at the same time, he had to be talking nonsense to her. Did he think she was stupid enough to believe this?

“People don’t come back from the dead. We don’t get second chances and time doesn’t restart itself. There is no such thing as an alternate time line. And this is the shittiest thing any guy has ever done to me.”

“Shitty? Syd, I’m telling you the truth? And—”

“The truth? My family deals in this, remember? If nothing else, we would know whether or not it is possible to come back, as a fully-fleshed human being, and it is not possible!”

“Syd, listen—”

“And am I supposed to be flattered because you’re telling me this? Or are you telling me this to save your own fucking skin? Because I’ve had guys tell me some really out-there things to get me to sleep with them, and I’ve had guys who’ve sworn they’d die of blue balls if I didn't fuck them, but this is a first.”

“I’m not lying to you, I swear on my dog’s life. On my mother’s life. On my own fucking life, Syd.”

“Yeah. Sure. And you know what? I’d thought you really had changed, Frerin.”

“I have. I was telling you the truth when I told you the Frerin you knew in August is dead. He is. I’ve spent six months on the other side of the veil and I don’t know why, but I was given a second chance. And that chance was to make things right with you.”

He reached for her hand, but she jerked away from him. “Then why not tell me right from the beginning?”

“Because who’d believe it?” His expression grew pained as he let his hand fall back to his side. “But I swear to you, Syd, I just want to be with you. I love you and I have for a really long time.”

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time.”

“No, I just couldn't figure out how to tell you. And I was afraid this would happen.”

“So, you used me as well.”

He flinched, then shook his head. “No, Syd. I didn’t. I promise you, I didn’t. I’m being honest, one-hundred percent honest with you. Look, maybe Tori can back me up on this.”

Syd’s gut kinked sharply. “Tori? Who is Tori?”

“She’s… I don’t even know what either of us were. Ghosts? Angels? I’m not sure. But she was the first person I met on the other side and maybe you’ll believe her, if you won’t believe me.”

Syd just stood there, staring at him like she’d never seen him before as he looked skyward and called, “Tori? Now would be a great time for you to just pop in.”

She looked up as well, as if there was actually some chance an angel would suddenly appear and validate Frerin’s ridiculous story. And the moment she did, she felt like the biggest fool walking. Of course there as nothing up there but sky. This was all a lie. All some twisted bullshit story told to her by a guy who got his jollies fucking with her, apparently.

She jerked her head back down and glared at him. “You’re nuts. And I am not about to humor you, Frerin. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for your act again.” She strode away from him, toward the sidewalk.

He hurried after her. “Syd, where are you going?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t really want to be around you right now.”

“Why? I’m telling you the truth, honey. Letting you get away was the worst mistake I’d ever made and now, I can right it and I want to right it. I love you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, I know, look,” he grabbed her wrist to jerk her to a halt, “just stop.”

“No!” She yanked her arm from his grasp. “Leave me alone, Frerin. Go find another desperate simp to charm. Maybe she’ll be stupid enough to believe this idiotic story.”

“Syd—”

Tears blinded her eyes as she turned and stormed off, yanking her cell phone from her purse to call for an Uber. She’d never felt as stupid as she did right then, and she never wished so hard that she’d never met Frerin Durin.

#Gerard Butler #Frerin Durin #Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Frerin x OC #AU #Frerin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Modern AU

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authortobenamedlater · 1 year

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@ladyknightskye tagged me.

Your name: Around here I go by AuthorToBeNamedLater or ATBNL.

Your first fandom(s): In terms of interest, Star Trek TNG. In terms of fandom engagement, seaQuest DSV.

Your current fandom(s): I measure “current fandom” in terms of “currently writing fic,” so Halo and The Mandalorian. Fandoms I love and post about here in rotation: Star Trek, Star Wars, MCU, Babylon 5, NCIS.

How did you first get into fandom? I honestly don’t remember a time when I wasn’t “into fandom” in some way? I suppose I really jumped in when I found FFN.

How long have you been engaging in fandom spaces?: Before you were born 😂 I found FFN very shortly after its launch in 1998.

How often do you read fanfics?: More often than I should LOL.

Top three characters from your current fandom(s): Is this three from each fandom or three altogether? I’ll go with the latter.

Cortana + John, Roland + Lasky (AIs and their humans are a package deal in my world), Kai.

Mando, Bo-Katan, Cara Dune because Cara is still in my Mandalore’s Reluctant Royals AU and if I ever get past the mental block of losing all my WIPs, she has a very important role to play.

Have you ever written fic for a fandom?: Only close to 100 between my FFN and AO3. Not counting the little snippets and micro fics I’ve shared only on Tumblr.

Have you ever drawn fanart for a fandom?: Aside from the Shadow vessel sponge painting I did in eighth grade art class, no. I’d like to change that though, because some of my off the wall AUs could do with visual content.

Share a personal headcanon that you feel very strongly about: Captain Shaw is married with kids and is a Chicago deep-dish pizza snob.

Tim McGee had an FFN account and probably has an AO3.

Thel ‘Vadam mixes up his English idioms Ziva David-style.

You’re trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. what episode, clip, or scene are you showing them?: I am not showing ANYONE Halo, unless you come to me saying you want to watch it. And then I’m going to give you a bunch of caveats about how I’m obsessed with it but it’s really not that great except for when it is and you shouldn’t take it too seriously. Buckle up and grab your adult beverage of choice.

For game-verse Halo I’d show Johnson’s speech about the tank in Halo 2 because that’s what Mr showed me to rope me in.

Mandalorian, the first episode.

Babylon 5, I would start with the pilot movie if I could find it and then not let up until you’d watched five seasons of emotional roller coaster. I’d tell you what JMS said in the commentaries for Shattered Dreams and Sleeping in Light and Deconstruction of Falling Stars and how many of the actors died too young. After War Without End I would show you the video where JMS drops the bomb about why Michael O’Hare left the show. By the end of it you’d love the show but you might not love me anymore. 🤣

And finally, what does fandom mean to you?: A place where I can explore the highs and lows of the human experience in a safe environment. Sometimes I can put a little broken piece of myself into a fanfic or headcanon and not feel so broken anymore. I can “talk” about things in fiction that I can’t in real life.

A place where I can meet cool people whose paths I never would have crossed had we not been abnormal about a certain show or character. ❤️

Tagging all who see this!

#fanfiction #halo #star wars #halo tv show #babylon 5 #tag game #Star Trek #the mandalorian #fandom

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cyansadness · 1 year

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Gelato Dates

I know the title seems nice and sweet and fluffy. it's not. it's hurt/comfort because that's my brand. tw for body shaming and ava's mom being a bad mom. au where louise and ava never got with nick and got together in the middle of season 2

tag squad: @swifteforeverandalways

It was one of those days where it was too good to be true. It was Thursday. There was no game Friday so Coach let everyone have the day off.

Ava and Louise were at Ava’s house because Louise’s house was currently unavailable. The two had started dating a few weeks ago and preferred to be at Louise’s house.

It was better because they didn’t have to worry about Ava’s mom finding out about their relationship yet. The two were taking a study break in the kitchen, eating some chocolate Louise had brought.

Ava was sitting on the counter while Louise was leaning against it. The two were just talking and flirting when Ava heard the front door open and her mother’s high heels click against the floor.

Ava immediately jumped off the counter and moved away from Louise. “Hi girls.” Ms. Navarro greeted the two. “Louise, what are you doing here?” Ms. Navarro asked, her fake smile faltering slightly. “Just studying. Ava and I have this killer test in history.” Louise said, taking notice of how her girlfriend was tense and looking at the floor.

Ms. Navarro saw the half-eaten chocolate bar on the counter as she walked to the fridge to get sparkling water. “Ava, all this sugar isn’t good for you. I mean, look at all this extra weight.” Ms. Navarro laughed as she pinched some of the fat on Ava’s stomach. Louise’s grip on the countertop tightened as she fought the urge to say something.

Ava moved away, wrapping her arms around her middle. A look of hurt flashed in her eyes as she looked at her shoes. “I think we need to go back on your diet. Intermittent fasting helped the last time you needed to shed a few pounds.” Ms. Navarro cupped Ava’s cheek.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just thinking of you. I doubt Louise and your friends want to be playing with a little piggy on the court. I mean, it’s embarrassing for them.” She laughed before leaving the kitchen, oblivious to how Louise glared at her.

Louise walked over to Ava and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend. “Ignore her. You look great, we love playing with you no matter what. We will never be embarrassed of you. I will never be embarrassed of you. Don’t listen to her and please don’t go on that diet.” Louise said.

“I won’t. I promise.” Ava’s voice was uncharacteristically small as she hugged Louise back. Louise ran her fingers through Ava’s hair to comfort her. An idea started to form. She pulled away and smiled at Ava.

“I have an idea. Get your jacket.” Louise said as she went towards the couch to pick up her own jacket. Ava was confused but still grabbed her hoodie. She followed Louise to her car and they started to drive.

Louise was tight-lipped and refused to say anything as they drove. Soon, the couple arrived at the gelato shop. “Why gelato?” Ava looked at Louise confused. “Because gelato makes everything better.” Louise smiled as she grabbed Ava’s hand to drag her into the gelato shop.

After the two made their orders and got their gelatos, they went to sit on the couch where the team usually sat. Louise started eating her gelato immediately but stopped when she noticed Ava moving the scoop around her cup, watching it melt.

“Hey, look at me.” Louise gently lifted up Ava’s chin. “It’s okay. You can eat the gelato. We don’t care what you look like. We just care that you are the best defender in the league.” Louise smiled. She cupped Ava’s cheek like her mother had but it was different.

Her mother’s hold was cold while Louise was warm and loving. Ava leaned into her touch a little. “Plus, I’m probably biased but I’m dating the hottest girl at Westbrook so nothing you could do would ever change that.” Louise leaned in to place a kiss on Ava’s lips.

As Ava pulled away, she licked her lips as Louise still had gelato on her lips when she kissed Ava. “Only you can make a flavor as bad as strawberry taste good.” Ava playfully rolled her eyes as she started to eat her chocolate gelato.

“Please, you only think that chocolate is the best because it was the first flavor of gelato you had ever eaten and refused to try anything else.” Louise argued. The two got into an argument about the best gelato flavor while stealing bites of the other’s scoop.

Sometimes life sucks but other times, life is just right.

#big shot disney #ava navarro #louise gruzinsky #ava / louise

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bluejaysandblackbats · 1 month

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If There’s Nothing Missing In My Life…

Fandom: DC Comics, Superfam

Summary: Newly-emancipated popstar and child actor, Conner (screen name: Lucky) navigates high school and stardom on his own.

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Conner Kent, Lois Lane, Roxy Leech, Rex Leech, Lois Lane, Clark Kent, Hillary Chang

Additional Tags: Highschool AU, Celebrity AU, Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Conner Luthor, Lex Luthor is Conner’s Parent, Teen Angst, Angst, POV First Person, No Powers AU, Conner Kent-centric, Bisexual Conner Kent, POV Conner Kent, Protective Lex Luthor, Child Celebrity AU

Chapter Thirteen: Homecoming

When we arrived, Hillary reached for my hand. I smiled and leaned toward her to break the silence. “This is my first real date,” I confessed. Hillary blinked hard and frowned.

“It’ll be fun,” Hillary whispered, “Come on. Let’s get something to drink.”

I let her lead. I bought two cans of soda, and we sat on the bleachers. “When do I have to take you home?” I questioned.

“My brothers know the dance ends at midnight. I told them I’d be home around twelve-thirty and I’d call if we stopped to eat,” Hillary answered. We sat in silence for a while, watching as the other kids mingled and danced with each other, and I wondered when we’d join them. “I’ll dance with you after I drink this soda. You don’t have to wait for me, though”

I nodded. “It’s not—? It’s not rude?” I asked. She shook her head.

I hesitated, but she gestured for me to go ahead. I felt painfully self-conscious as I joined the other kids. I glanced at her, and she gave me a thumbs-up. “Did you know you’re on the ballot for junior year homecoming king?” someone shouted. I turned, looking for the source of the voice, and pointed to myself. “Yeah! I voted for you!”

I didn’t even vote for myself. I voted for a kid named Percy, who helped me study for my history midterm. I didn’t want that kind of attention. “Thanks! I voted for Percy!” I replied. They cocked their head, and Percy smiled and waved at me. I waved back and walked toward him. We danced and talked for a while, and he asked me if it was anything like I imagined it would be. “Nope!”

“It always feels awkward when you first arrive! Don’t worry!” Percy reassured me.

I danced for two or three songs before I joined Hillary on the bleachers. “Lucky, are you okay?” Hillary asked.

“Do you want to take a picture?” I questioned. Hillary nodded.

Hillary took my hand and led me to the line for the paper moon. She let go of my hand and shook her arms and legs out. I laughed at how weird it looked. “Loosen up,” Hillary laughed, “This is supposed to be fun.” She shook her limbs out again, and I joined her.

I laughed with her as we moved up in line, but the closer we got to the moon, the more nervous I felt. When we were first in line, I turned to walk away, and she grabbed my arms, talking me down without words. She made eye contact and nodded until I calmed down. “Hey,” Hillary whispered, “Hey… It’s okay.”

I took a deep breath, followed her to the paper moon, and we took a picture. She laid her head on my shoulder, and I smiled at my feet. The DJ announced the first slow song, and Hillary stood on her tiptoes. “Do you want to dance? Or is that—?”

“Sure!” Hillary smiled.

I took her to the dancefloor, and it hit me with the notion that she’d danced with other people before. “Have you ever dated?” I questioned. “Not asking in a—. I’m purely curious. I want to know what it’s like for you.”

“Well, yeah… It’s different for everybody,” Hillary replied.

“I don’t—. I’m so nervous, and I know you’re not judging me, but I’m doing everything wrong,” I explained.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re figuring it out, and that’s fine. You’ll probably look back on this night and laugh because there was nothing to worry about,” Hillary reassured me. I relaxed and let myself breathe.

The music transitioned out of the slow song, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. With everyone in the bathroom, I took a stall. I don’t think anyone noticed me go in because they talked about me. “It’s crazy. If Lucky Luthor could pull Hillary Chang—.”

“What do you mean?” the other guy asked.

“Don’t you remember all that crap she said about how bubbleheaded and dense kid celebrities are? She was so against him coming to our school, and he showed up, and now she’s his girlfriend! That’s nuts,” the first boy replied.

“Maybe there’s hope for all of us,” the second boy replied.

“Yeah… Or she’s using him—.”

“Not her… Come on. Everybody knows Hillary’s willing to give everybody a chance—.”

I left the stall and washed my hands. I felt sick to my stomach, and I wanted out, but I couldn’t leave Hillary at the dance. My dad would’ve been so disappointed if I did something so rude. So, I found her on the dancefloor and tried to discreetly excuse myself. “Hil, I don’t feel well,” I whispered in her ear. She shook her head as if she couldn’t hear me.

“What?” Hillary shouted.

“I feel sick,” I shouted. Hillary’s smile faded, and she took me aside, but I flinched away from her touch.

“What’s wrong?” Hillary asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t feel well. I think I’m gonna be sick,” I repeated.

“Oh, do you want to go home? I can—.”

“No. You should stay and have fun… I’ll have Roxy take you home at midnight. I can walk—.”

“Lucky, I can come with you—.”

“No, I um—. I just want to soak in the bath and go to bed,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to ruin her night, but I was angry with her. Our friendship felt false.

“Okay… I hope you feel better,” Hillary replied. I nodded and slipped away.

The second the cold air hit my face, I burst into tears. It hurt me. I took off the stupid tie and texted Roxy to tell her I went home and needed her to drop Hillary off after the dance.

I took a personal week before returning to school and didn’t answer anyone’s calls. I finished writing the last handful of songs for the album on Wednesday and rotted on my couch the rest of the week. I received a house call from Jake. I wanted to hide from him, but he knew I was home. I unlocked the door and let him in. “I know you’re not sick,” Jake stated, “What’s going on? Are you mad at my sister?”

“I don’t want to put you in the middle of—.”

“I’m not here to be in the middle. Hillary’s convinced that you’re sick. I won’t tell her differently, but you’ll have to face her eventually. Whatever it is, you should practice explaining now,” Jake interrupted as he plopped on my couch.

“Why didn’t she tell me she didn’t want me to go to her school? Why’d she let me think we were friends?” I asked.

“She didn’t know you… And then, she got to know you. Simple as that,” Jake replied like it was nothing.

“So you would’ve been cool with that?” I questioned.

“It’s not about how I feel… I can tell you that my sister isn’t pretending to like you. She gave you a fair chance because that’s who she is. Hillary might’ve said some hurtful things about you as a celebrity, but she’s had nothing but kind words to say since she met you,” Jake replied.

“Do you want something to eat?” I mumbled.

“No, thanks… Lucky, I’m sorry my sister hurt your feelings. I mean that,” Jake replied as he stood and touched my shoulder. I kept quiet about what happened and pretended nothing was wrong between Hillary and me when we saw each other again at school.

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sebastianthegiraffe · 4 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Nobody tagged me in this (because I never get tagged in anything) but I thought it would be interesting to do. I saw this circulating in the Clone Wars fandom, but I know it's in other places as well.

1.How many works do you have on AO3? Only 9, but I have hundreds of WIPs on my hard-drive, most of which are like one tiny passage or a summary that will never go anywhere. My brain is an ideas factory and it cannot be stopped.

2.What’s your total AO3 word count? As of January 2024, it’s 176,227 in total, but 122,240 of that is across two works: - The Greenleaf and the Son of the Forest (83414 words) - In Our Brothers We Trust (38826 words)

3.What fandoms do you write? Currently, Star Wars (Clone Wars/Bad Batch era) and Hobbit/LotR, though I used to write a lot of Kylux stuff (Star Wars Sequels), but the WIPs span everything from Cats to The Witcher to Pirates to Narnia. Told you, the ideas factory never stops.

4.What are your top five fics by kudos? - Frost-Bitten – 171 - Alphabetically, I love you – 167 - Force Fed – 137 - Scars and All – 89 - Ruby Red and Jet Black – 75 Which means that my two current projects (Greenleaf and IOBWT) don’t make this list, because they have 37 and 54 kudos respectively. It’s all my old Kylux stuff that gets the top spots, but I do approve of the top score. Frost-Bitten is one of my faves.

5.Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I usually respond to the first few comments on any given fic, because I’m just so excited that somebody read it and it resonated enough for them to write me a message. I do save all the AO3 notification emails though and I read through them sometimes when my writing is driving me nuts.

6.What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t actually write angst all that much. I’ve had angsty chapter endings sometimes, but it’s never that bad and it usually gets resolved.

7.What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? They’re all pretty happy, what can I say? I’m a sap and I like a nice wrapped-up story with a happy ending. The ending of Frost-Bitten is probably my favourite though.

And despite the chill of the Knight of Winter’s lips on his, the Lord of Autumn melts…

8.Do you get hate on fics? Not to my knowledge. I’m aware that most of what I write is headcanon that got away from me though, so it’s not most people’s cup of tea.

9.Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope. Kissing and cuddles is as close as we get, maybe a bit of non-sexual BDSM is it’s needed.

10.Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written? I was on t’internet when the whole Tangled/HTTYD/Brave/RotG crossover was a thing. Some very pretty art out there, let me tell you. And I do have what would have become a giant AtLA AU in that, but I’ve never done anything with it beyond a few passages.

11.Have you ever had a fic stolen? Sometimes when I was in high school, or just finished, there was a site that copied a lot of fics from FF.net, under the same usernames and everything, but I think the site was taken down? Not sure, either it way it was only old Cats fic on mine so…

12.Have you ever had a fic translated? No. I could probably do it in German or Spanish, it would just take me forever.

13.Have you ever co-written fic before? Who would want to play in my silly little sandpit? Only me, I tell you.

14.What’s your all-time favourite ship? I was reading a lot of Malec stuff at one point, or Geraskier, and a lot of SamBucky/WinterFalcon just after Falcon and the Winter Soldier came out. And Kylux, way back when. I don’t really have a favourite ship though, just a lot of ones I like and will happily read.

15.What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I’m not going to say Greenleaf, because I will make myself finish it. The wider universe that Greenleaf exists in though, I probably won’t ever truly be done with (White Knife, Silver Flame). I’m like Tolkien in that respect.

16.What are your writing strengths? Characterisation and getting into characters’ heads. I write lots of little dialogue pieces and odd passages for how characters interact, most of which never see the light of day, they are just writing exercises. I also try to never delete anything, if a passage isn’t working out how I want it to, I just move it to its own document and keep it as a reference. Sometimes it’s an excellent bit of writing, it just needs to go somewhere else.

17.What are your writing weaknesses? I find it really hard to write in one fandom if I’m watching the content for something else. I can’t write Star Wars if I’m watching LotR for example. Music and soundtracks are usually okay though, just no music with words or I get distracted.

18.Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I do it in both of my current projects, but I always provide a translation at the end of the chapter. If it’s little things like petnames, I think it’s fine and it can add a sense of authenticity to the world. You can do a larger passage in another language, but it can be jarring to the reader if it’s not worked into the story in the right way.

19.First fandom you wrote for? Cats, the musical and original movie, not that 2019 monstrosity. We don’t talk about that.

20.Favourite fic you’ve ever written? I’m actually really enjoying writing IOBWT, which is my Domino Survives AU. It’s fun getting to explore what Hevy and Cutup and Droidbait might have been like if they survived past Rishi, the same as Fives and Echo.

Greenleaf is also fun to write in parts, because I’ve loved Tolkien’s world since I was like ten. But it’s a battle getting the chapters out at the moment, just because of how the story’s structured.

Favourite thing I’ve ever written? Frost-Bitten, which is a Kylux Fantasy Seasonal AU, where Hux belongs to Autumn and Kylo belongs to Winter. It’s very cute and fluffy and it’s one of only a few pieces of my earlier writing that I can read and not cringe at.

I'm not going to tag anyone in particular (I don't get tagged in things so I don't know who I would tag anyway), so if you find this and fancy doing it, knock yourself out.

#fic writing #20 questions for fic writers #questions

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