#yes i have daddy issues i thought it was obvious through my fics

[wordsbymae]

Okay this is so hilarious because I wanted to add the whole “she would rather find out he cheated than this”, but I didn’t know how you would process this and didn’t add it in there. I just find it comical that as girlies who take pleasure in dark fictional men and doing bad stuff but the line is only cross once they cheat, it’s me I’m the girlies 😭😭😭. Yeah it would be so sad, like he would try to convince but she obviously hurting and wouldn’t want to see him, she interrupts him hanging up the phone and just getting up and leaving. While he bangs on the glass door for her to come back. She’s so heartbroken, it would probably take a few weeks until she finds enough courage to see him. He probably explain to her that he felt he was already a scum and a bum especially when he managed to bag her, so to cease his anxiety and insecurities of her realizing it and up and leaving (which in reality he would never let happen) he wanted to provided lavish lifestyle to satisfy her. But the gifts and providing for her wasn’t what her like him (but they did help tho). He was funny and witty, a very good listener and was attentive and overall a good honest man (so she thought). I can the family encouraging her to go see him again, because it’s obvious she still loves him even after this shocking betrayal. And he’s just so excited to see her again, and she demands him to tell her the whole truth while she promises not to up and leave and not to leave him in the dark like that again. He would do anything just to talk to her again. And the kids? She’s so devastated having to tell or lie (whatever you prefer. I would pick lie depending on the circumstances) why daddy isn’t home anymore. It was hard at first but with the support of his family it became easier. I can’t stress enough how I enjoy these little chats we share, I get so excited. I literally refresh your page and checked the time zone in Australia I was like “okay so it’s 11 am so in couple hours, I’ll hear from her again :)”

MY 100TH POST :D

Same here! I completely will not accept cheating, even in a fictional way. Most of the time if I read it in fiction I want it to be full-on angst and for the reader to completely shut out the cheater and find someone else. I do however like the "I thought you were cheating but you were doing x" trope, the angst and then the relief and then the rebuilding of trust is just *chef's kiss*.

It is so true! I can forgive a lot in a fictional man, murder included, but cheating??? Never. I have literally ended a book, fic, movie or whatever because one of the spouses cheated and then the other one took them back. I don't know but I just can't really forgive it, it makes me feel ewwy.

He would be devastated if she hung up!!!! Yes!!! he would be banging on the screen and the guards try and stop him but he just going crazy cause he was watching the love of his life just leave him, which was his greatest nightmare and the reason he kept robbing and stealing.

I kinda love it when tough guys have insecurities cause it means there are human and are vulnerable like the rest of us. I mean so many male protagonists in media (mainly heroes/superheroes, action guys, tough guys, etc) are only faced with hardships from the external environment and the only time we see men faced with internal battles is related to war, which is still caused by the external environment. I think that sends a twisted message that only men who have been through great trauma (such as war) are allowed to be in mental anguish, that mental illness or insecurities (when men have insecurities in media it is almost always because of scars/loss of limbs, it usually isn't due to weight like it is shown for women) are something that happens to them, and that it is an external force that caused it, and mental health issues that just 'pop up' aren't valid because they don't have a real reason or excuse to feel that way. While mental health issues caused by external trauma are definitely true for veterans who faced combat, when this is the only narrative shown it gives a bad message that other men don't have an excuse to have insecurities or mental health issues. For example, in Australia, a lot of veterans and military personnel who face mental health issues haven't actually seen combat and because of this, their issues are overlooked for not being important and that they should just get over it.

I think the same can be said for this fella. He has (assumingly) grown up in a very masculine environment, so he has been taught that such feelings of insecurities are seen as weakness, why should he complain when there are others worse off?, which is why he buries it and never tells you his insecurities, until its too late, but by having these insecurities and telling you (even if it's behind bars) showcases that he isn't just this 2d criminal character, he doesn't do it for the money, he did it at first because its the only thing he's ever known and it was hard to believe someone like him would be able to overcome that, but when he meets you, its the only way he knows how to get money and he feels like he needs to prove his worth to you, prove he is more than what he was told he was.

I think it also feeds into the old idea that men have to provide for the household, he feels like he isn't a man if he can't do that and therefore desperately tries to provide, I think it would be a point of argument for the reader and him, she never needed all the gifts, it's nice to be given them but at the same time she was falling in love with him, not his money, so she feels like she's been bought when he brings this up like he felt like he was entitled to her presence (he kinda did feel that way).

Once again reader would be questioning all of it, did she actually fall in love with him or the front he puts on for her. Maybe even a small part of her thinks that maybe he only has her around to look the part, a doting father with a loving wife isn't exactly the first suspect for multiple bank robberies. All her own insecurities are rushing through, not only does she have to rethink her relationship with her husband but his family as well, they also lied to her and let her husband keep her in the dark and they never seemed to care or feel guilt.

What would she say to the kids! I imagine the kids to be very young and maybe he won't be in for long, he was only caught planning a bank robbery and they don't have enough evidence to pin him on all the other stuff (how they missed the infamous stolen diamonds reader is wearing is beyond me) so he won't be gone for an "I have to explain" period of time, so yeah I think the reader would lie, maybe say he's going for a trip, or going away from work, either way, she wants him to explain it when they are old enough.

AHHHH! I love our chats as well!!!!!!! They make me so happy! That is so sweet thank you!!!!!! I forgot that not everyone is awake when I am, so sometimes I get a little sad when I post something and its been all day and no one has liked it (I don't do it for the likes! I just recognise some people and it makes me happy to know my mutals like what I write!) and then I wake up and I have over 50 notes :D

(sorry to get psychoanalytic I just find it very interesting! If it was too much please tell me and I can change it! This one was a bit angsty)

Lots of love mae xx

#autumn :) #yandere x reader #yandere #oc #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #mae answers #female reader #oc fugitive #not really yandere yet but i though i would just tag just in case #tw su1c1d3 #tw war #tw mental health #tw insecurity #tw military

[buckysboobs]

since i have a strained relationship with my father i would just like to wish my comfort dad dilf daddy dom father figure a very happy father's day i love you

#don't judge me #i call him dad sometimes because it brings me comfort #i love you #he makes me feel so safe #whenever i have one of those bad fights with my dad i just want to run into seb's arms and cry into his neck #because i know he would comfort me #sebastian stan #yes i have daddy issues i thought it was obvious through my fics #i can't stop thinking about seb calling me his 'little girl' #or bucky #or literally any of his characters #scott huffman specially #happy father's day ig #LEE BODECKER wait #he's my comfort dad too #i want to be his little girl so bad #i'm going to go and cry now

[noteguk]

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked. 

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated. 

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 

“How’s that possible?” he asked. 

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 

But you also kind of didn’t care. 

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?” 

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #smut #au #taehyung au #bts au

[archonoftears]

info: modern au! reader receives a package that helps her tease her boyfriend while he’s at work. 

warnings: 18+ smut, slight breeding kink (mentioned), lingerie, phone sex (kinda), pretty vanilla, no penetration, just description, a tiny bit of dom/sub (implied through dialogue)

word count: 1,626

authors note: umm head empty, thoughts only filled with laying in zhonglis bed and teasing him over the phone. i really can’t remove myself from modern au! with ceo daddy zhong. so here we are again. not gonna lie though, i found myself looking at dragon dildos yesterday and now i just wanna write dragon zhongli and sacrificial maiden. so maybe after i finish with the first chapter of my other fic i’ll get right on that. 

ps no beta, i just kinda got this out and edited it once. so sorry if any mistakes or issues.

please thirst with me if you want to!!

Glancing around your dining room table you felt defeated by the amount of packages staring back at you. You were surprised by the latest delivery of clothing you had received for PR from a few high end designers. You knew you shouldn't have been shocked, dating a CEO of a multi million dollar cooperation came with many perks. Yet you never imagined anything like this. Knowing the mess would only stay on the table if you didn’t start tackling it. You began opening up a few packages, finding bags and shoes. Even the latest spring wear from the major brand ‘Liyue Qixing’ sat in a box for you. Before setting your eyes on a more intricate looking box. Opening it to discover some of the most beautiful lingerie you had seen in a long time. Looking at the brand name ‘Scent of Spring’. You didn’t recognize it, but you were quite enamored with the pieces inside.

Forgoing opening any more packages you quickly gathered the items in the box and wandered off to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. Selecting a ivory and gold silk longline balconette bra, with matching thong, and harness. The gold tulle flowers that patterned the silk and lace were soft and delicate under your fingers. You couldn’t go a second longer without wearing the beautiful set. Quickly stripping off the clothes you were wearing and slipping on the lingerie. Loving the feel of the soft lace and silk against your skin. Staring at yourself in the mirror. 

‘This lingerie had to be designed by some deity who knew Zhongli’s taste.’ You thought to yourself as you admired the way the balconette bra exposed half of your breast and how the thong straps cut into the flesh of your hip in a sexy way, giving your body a more defined silhouette.

A light bulb went off in your head, walking over to grab your phone and opening the camera app, returning back to the mirror. Posing yourself quite provocative as you snapped several photos, dropping to your knees and taking a few more photos, before flipping through them. A coy smile playing on your lips as you went to call Zhongli.

Zhongli was startled by the sound of his phone ringing on his desk, glancing down to see your contact photo, a smile immediately forming on his face, he swiped to answer.

“Hello (name), is everything alright my dear?” Zhongli greeted as he turned from the documents in front of him and leaned back in his chair. You seldom ever called him when you knew he was going to be in the office all day, preferring to email him if you needed anything so he assumed this must have been important.

“Everything is fine, just calling to see what you were up to.” You greeted over the phone. Zhongli let out a small sigh, relieved that nothing was wrong.

“I’m just preparing for a meeting with Fatui Industries in a little bit.” Zhongli started, glancing at the clock to check the time. “What are you doing today my dear.” He asked, knowing you didn’t have much on your schedule today.

“Well I was going through some packages I received, you know the PR kind. It was mostly clothes from some nice designers.” You hummed, he could hear you twirling your hair in your fingers as you spoke.

“Oh really? Hopefully they sent things that are your style.” 

“That’s why I was calling actually. There was this one package, the clothes are really nice. But I think they’re more to your taste, and I wanted to get your opinion on them.” You confessed. 

“Of course, I can do that when I get home for you if you would like.” Zhongli replied, glancing at the clock noting that he had about 27 minutes until his meeting. “I should be done with work after I meet with Signora and Childe.”

“I’m actually sending you a couple photos right now, please check your email and tell me what you think.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but you seemed awfully excited about all of this but he complied with your request.

“Of course, one moment.” Opening his email, quickly finding the one from you at the top and opening it, his eyes widening in realization as he enlarged one of several photos in the email. His voice catching in his throat as he examined it.

“Are the clothes to your liking, sir.” You cooed from the other end of the phone, knowing very well they were in fact to his liking. 

“Ms. (Name)..” Zhongli growled quietly.

“Yes sir?” You asked innocently, Zhongli aware of the game you were playing, but nevertheless here he was clicking on the next photo, feeling his pants grow tighter as he continued to view the photos. The one of you on your knees sending more blood rushing to his already aching erection.

“Are you being a good girl right now?” 

“I’m always a good girl Sir.”

“Are you? You don’t look to be acting like a good girl in these photos.”

“Then should I send you some more photos so you make sure I’m being good?” He could feel himself getting riled up just by the implications of what was being said.

“Well… I’ve already sent them so hopefully you don’t mind.”

Not needing to be told twice Zhongli refreshed his email inbox to find a new message. Opening it to discover new attachments. Slowly he clicked the first picture. Finding you not in front of the mirror in the bedroom anymore, but now on the black sateen sheets of the bed the two of you shared. Angling the camera in a way to show how you would look if he had you pinned down. You looked ravishing, from the way you let your cleavage spill out exposing your nipples, to the way you spread your legs. 

The next photo your hand was on one of your breast cupping and pinching the nipple. The next photo was taken lower, your hand was now in your panties clearly teasing yourself. And the final attachment was a video, it was no more than 15 seconds, but in those 15 seconds you show yourself pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, before dragging your fingers out of yourself and licking the wet slick off your digits. Zhongli was taking deep breaths as he watched. His eyes following your every movement.

“Sir…” You moaned, lust lacing every syllable. “Do you think I look like a good girl in those photos?”

Zhongli couldn’t say anything for a moment. Letting the video replay itself over and over, his eyes finding new things to focus on each time it replayed. From the way your plump lips wrapped around your fingers or the way you quivered when you plunged your two digits into yourself. He just wanted to see you do more.

“When did being a good girl equate to acting like quite the little slut? Surely I’ve taught you better than that.” Zhongli replied firmly, as he adjusted the way he was sitting to accommodate his throbbing cock.

“This is what you’ve taught me…” the breathiness of your voice letting him know you were in fact still touching yourself as you replied.

“I don’t recall teaching you to send provocative photos to me while I’m at work.” He glanced at the clock again, 16 minutes until the meeting. Fuck. 

“Did they make you hard?” You asked suddenly.

He was not a liar, so he wouldn’t lie to you. “Yes they did…” 

“Did they make you want to come home and stuff your big. thick. cock inside of me.” The punctionaction of your words were breaking him down.

“Yes they did…”

“Master are you going to come home so I can show you how much of a good girl I am, when I’m milking your cock.”

“My Lily… I-” Zhongli wasn’t used to you being this forward with him.

“I need you to come home and fuck me now. Because if you don’t pump me full of your cum I might go crazy.” You whined your voice working wonders on his resolve. “Please… Please come home and breed me sir.”

One final weak glance at his clock showed he had 9 minutes before they would arrive.

You moaned again calling his name out through the phone, the thread holding his composure together snapping.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I get home do you understand.” Zhongli growled into the phone, quickly on his feet, grabbing his bag and making his way to the door of his office. “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir..!” You exclaimed.

“I hope you understand you won’t be walking for the next few days my Little Lily.” He warned before leaving the safety of his private office.

“Yes yes! Hurry please.” 

“I am.” Quickly saying goodbye and hanging the phone up  with you, while walking towards two approaching figures. 

“Mr. Zhongli goo-” Signora began, reaching her hand out to greet him, but he didn’t meet it.

“My apologies, there seems to be an emergency at home, can you meet with my assistant to reschedule.” Zhongli haphazardly explained. “Again my deepest apologies.” He finished, turning on his heel and b lining it to the exit. Letting the receptionist know that he was leaving and scrambling for the parking garage.

“What do you think his emergency was?” Signora stood bewildered where Zhongli had left her and Childe.

“Do you think everything is alright?

Childe seemed to be having the best laugh of his life as his colleague pondered the obvious.

“Trust me everything’s fine.” Childe said in between laughs. “We should probably reschedule for Monday, he’ll probably need the whole weekend off.”

“This is why I hate partnering with you, you’re too vague sometimes.”

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli x you #modern au! genshin impact #smut #imagine a big bed of black and gold sheets #a bed designed for a god #that's the bed i wanna be spread out on for zhongli #cakey cries #genshin impact x reader #rex lapis x reader #morax x reader #genshin x reader

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter xii

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

We had been tucked in for the night for a long time when I felt Ransom’s body twisting and turning in bed. I was almost asleep already, so I didn’t even process it until his arm curled over my body, hand resting over my grown belly to pull me closer to him.

The proximity woke me up a bit in surprise, but then the warmth of his body started to lull me back to slumber, only for him to huff and turn around, leaving me alone once more.

“Huh? No, don’t go…” I whined, blindly reaching behind me in search of the comfort he had provided until his hand caught mine and raised it to his lips so he could kiss my palm.

“You awake?” He whispered, and something in his tone felt almost urgent, instantly wiping the sleepiness from my eyes. I sat up, rubbing them so I could completely focus, worried about the man beside me all of a sudden.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Ransom mirrored my movements, also sitting up in bed before turning his body to face mine. He stayed quiet for a while, seemingly thinking over his words before sighing.

“You don’t want to date me, that’s fine.” The sudden affirmation felt like a punch to the stomach, especially after the night we had shared. Thankfully, he wasn’t done talking and what he said next made it pretty clear where his head was at.

“Move in with me.” It was a breathy suggestion, a blurted-out invitation, but it was obvious that he had thought about this for a while. “These past few days at your parents’ house were incredible. I was able to see so much, be around for so much.”

His eyes fell to my exposed stomach - I didn’t really have any nightwear that was appropriate for my pregnancy, but all the nights we spent together in this bed, he didn’t seem to mind. “I- I want to be able to help you when you want chocolate again.” He chukled. “Please?”

It was silent in the room while I tried to come to terms with what he had asked of me. It’s not that I didn’t like it, I just hadn’t anticipated it at all. It honestly caught me by surprise, so it took me a while to be able to answer.

“Okay.” It was almost frightening, the way my heart warmed at the huge grin that split open Ransom’s face as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. But it reminded me that I had to establish some boundaries straight away.

“Really?” His difficulty to believe it was endearing, as the reasoning he used to try to get me to accept his proposition. He had every right to want to be around for more, be a more active part of the experience of getting his child into the world, as I had the right to keep some boundaries to make me feel comfortable with the entire experience.

But he really had been making the most of it during our trip. And in the time I’d allowed him to dip his feet in the waters of parenthood - or the part of parenthood that involved taking care of me while I was pregnant - he really had rose up to the challenge.

I trusted him a lot more now - enough to grant him even more space to grow and enjoy this experience alongside me.

I couldn’t stop myself from leaning over and depositing a quick kiss on his lips, staying there to brush them with mine for a while longer as I gathered the courage to talk about something I didn’t really want to - particularly after the impromptu kiss.

“Yes, really. I want your help with chocolate too, I’ve been trying to keep my desires at bay for too long,” I jokingly huffed, making an act out of rolling my eyes.

“Have you?” The question had me laughing, and his laughter soon joined mine. It really was no secret how often I had asked him to go buy food for me, and he always did so diligently, with no complaints. So to say that I’d been holding back could only really be seen as a joke.

I wasn’t talking about that though. There was a different type of craving, a specific type of hunger that I hadn’t been able to satiate before this trip, and as much as I didn’t want to voice it and make this the permanent arrangement he was hoping to get out of me, I was happy to have a way to take care of it.

There was just one little thing.

“I do have one condition, though.” That had the amusement disappearing from his eyes quickly, and he straightened out to listen to me with a serious expression I hadn’t expected Ransom Drysdale to be able to pull off when we first met.

“I- You- I’m sorry, Ransom, but I really don’t want to have to deal with you bringing girls home all the time. You can date all you want, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t want to have to share a roof with your one-night stands.” I watched him blink a few times, his hand that was holding mine suddenly freezing as he took in my words and I waited with bated breath.

I knew I was handing him the conditions to negotiate what he insisted he wanted on a silver platter, but I wasn’t ready for that. And I knew he had every right to turn the table on me and make it clear that, if I wasn’t going to give in and get in a relationship with him, I had no right to limit how and where he got involved with the women he dated - not on his own house.

But Ransom really must have grown because all I got was a firm nod - a firm, decided nod.

“I’m okay with that.”

I let out the breath I was holding, closing my eyes momentarily as I thanked the stars, the universe for this outcome. Finally allowing myself to relax again, I laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation as Ransom observed me until he decided to join.

I’d never been a fan of the quiet. As a lawyer, I knew its importance, the role it played in getting people to reveal their deepest, darkest secrets - or at least their pressing concerns. So I had the ability to anticipate that, stop myself from spilling out too much and reveal yet another part of my soul to a person who could very well take it and ruin it… but I didn’t.

I remembered that night in his car, when I let him catch a glimpse of what was going through my head, how this whole situation was very much affecting me because of its unusualness. I remembered how relieved he felt at seeing through my mask, if only for a second. So I decided to, just for once, take it off entirely.

“I’m glad you asked me to move in,” I interrupted the silence that had taken over the room. My eyes kept fixated on the ceiling lamp - the same ceiling lamp I’d stared at for so many years, so many moments of teenage angst, never imagining one day I’d do the same next to the father of my child. “I... It makes me feel… protected.”

Ransom’s body rolled to the side, now fully turned to stare at me. His arms were under his head, I could feel his eyes burning my skin. “Ransom…” I breathed out, still trying to think about what I was going to say, thinking of talking myself out of it. Should I really say it? Should I really be this vulnerable in front of a guy who seemed to hate it? “… I’m terrified.”

There. I said it. And in the silence that followed, I felt incredibly comforted by the weight of his head as it fell on my chest, his arms embracing me tightly against his body.

“I’m so happy that we can be terrified together now.”

I hid my laughter on his shoulder, kissing it softly before letting my head fall back against the pillow. My nails absentmindedly drew patterns across Ransom’s back, my mind taking flight as I began to think I’d fall asleep again. Once more, his voice resonated around the room, “So, how do you think we’ll do this?”

It took me a while to understand what he meant, and I didn’t stop caressing him while I thought.

“You mean… co-parenting?” My only response was a soft hum, murmured against my skin. The edges of my lips curled up, fascinated by the idea of Ransom Drysdale anxiously starting to plan something that was still months away from becoming a problem (if it ever would).

“We’ll learn on the job,” I assured him because really, it’s the only thing I could do and say. I was just as anxious, just as inexperienced on the subject as he was. But the thought that now I could be anxious and inexperienced by his side consoled me to no end. “Right now, I’m more worried about how we’ll be as roommates.”

“I just assumed you’d treat me as your personal butler,” he joked. Once again, it was exactly what I needed to break the intensity of the moment, and his entire body began to shake as I broke down in a fit of giggles underneath him.

“You know me so well, already,” I teased, feeling him relax against me once more, lulling me to sleep alongside him and fall in a blissful dream I never wanted to wake up from.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale reader fluff #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale series

[catsplushellhounds]

favorite headcanons (and theorys?) of glee that i created

i was thinking if i really was going to write this, but im bored so lets go, this got so long and i am so sorry (not really it was fun and i liked it, if you like big metas you probably gonna like this)

*this can have some triggers for some people because i will be talking about bullying, abandonment, depression and violence*

(also i would like to say that most of this are things that i like to believe happened, and idk if the rest of the fandom agrees or if someone said it before and this is all blaine related, i left it glee on the title because it sounded better idk)

- blaine's dad is filipino and he left after blaine came out

i know that blaine said he was there in shooting stars, but hear me out

first of all, to me his name is tod anderson, dont ask me why it just makes sense and i like how it sounds.... so

in sexy, blaine tells burt that his dad tried many times bonding with him, but apparently that didnt work, because he also says "you think my dad built a car with me because he loves cars? i think he did it because he thought getting my hands dirty might make me straight." and after 4x18, he is never mentioned again? and he wasnt on his son's wedding too

so my theory here is that he never accepted that blaine is gay, and all of his "efforts of bonding" were actually because he thought he could "fix" blaine, and when that didnt worked he left, (that also explains blaine's abandonment issues) but he did came back im the shooting episode because he felt guilty for what he did, but after he saw it was a false alarme he went back on pretending he didnt have a gay son

to be really honest sometimes i pretend that his dad wasnt on the shooting day because i feel that it doesnt fit that well into this and i really like this one because its kinda obvious to me that blaine have daddy issues??? so usually i just put on my character-backstory that blaines dad left after he came out and never came back

for the first year that he was gone, blaine spended every night trying to contact him. sometimes he just texted, but most of the times he called and left a message crying begging him to come back and tell him what he'd done that made his father hate him so much, his dad never called or texted back

- blaine's parents

(im not sure if this is canon but blaine's mom is named pam)

i know that technically i've already talked about blaine's family when i was talking about his dad but that is so complex i felt i had to do a topic exclusive for that

i believe blaine has and always had a good relationship with his mother, yes she was usually gone because she works selling a really famous cosmetic line she created (to me the andersons are a really known name) that would explain how blaine could study in a school like dalton (he said so himself that dalton isnt a school that anyone could afford), and why she is never there

but despite her being busy with her job, she always tried to keep im touch with blaine, texting him, and calling and skyping

blaine always missed her, but he tried to not make her feel guilty about working too much, because she loves her job

sometimes he got really depressed, because he wished she could be there to see him sing with his friends, or just be there so that he could hang out with his mom like all of his friends did with their parents

his das was a businessman, i dont know why it just fits to me, also idk what kind of business because i dont understand any of it so thats up to imagination

before he came out, he and his dad were super close, sure his dad a lot of the time was busy but he was at home more than his mom, his dad was the one that introduced him to liking sports, and they always watched games together (cooper would join in too) and his dad always let him have a sip of his beer, blaine always loved those moments and his dad was like a hero to him, he was sure that coming out to him would be easy, because he would love him no matter what

all of the andersons have always been brodway babys, all 4 of them liked to sing, tod was a little bit more serious and didnt dance around the house like cooper, blaine and pam but he enjoyed seeing them having fun

the andersons were like the perfect family of the neirbourhood, all 4 of them are very good looking, talented and educated so yes everybody thought they were perfect

they all lived in the philippines until blaine was 5, and then moved to ohio because tod got a really good job offer there

after blaine came out, his parents argued A LOT. tod would ask himself and pam of what he had done wrong and pam would say its nobodys fault and thats just how blaine is

(to me that was the time tod was revealed to be an asshole and not long after he divorced pam and stoped talking to all of them, except for cooper, he and cooper still talked)

- blaine's bullying

the bullying blaine went through was a lot like kurt's, people laughing at him, shoving him around, beating him up, etc

he tried putting a brave face through it but he started losing all of his light, even more when all of his complains didnt matter at all

it only got sort of better when he met skylar (thats the kid he went to sadie hawkings with, i read in a fic that was his name and stuck with me so im calling him skylar)

skylar was going through the same thing he was, and one time blaine saw him getting shoved at lockers, and helped him pick up his books and thats were they started talking

maybe they liked each other, they never got to find out because after the bash, skylar never spoke to blaine again

blaine was in a 2 week coma after getting beat up, and the first thing he said when he woke up was "where's my dad" and his mom had to gently tell him his das was not there. that was when blaine realized he actually meant nothing to his dad and that broken him even more

he was bashed about 3 months after his father left him, and for the rest of that school year he was homeschooled by a teacher his mother hired

- blaine joining dalton and the warblers

so, since blaine is a year younger than kurt, in my head goes sorta of like this

he came out when he was 13, that was the time he was bullied, beaten up abandoned and homeschooled, and he joined dalton when he was 14, but to be a warbler he had to be a little older than that, so he had to audition to join (im guessing you dont have to audition to be a warbler, just to have a lead, i mean kurt didnt auditioned, right?) and and trent auditioned together, they became friends and were roomates (dalton is a boarding school DONT @ ME EVERYBODY KNOWS ITS TRUE)

it took blaine a while to take the step to audition, because he was still scared, but wes and david helped him and gave him a little seed of the confidence he pretends to have later on, but when he sang for the warblers for the first time they were all blowed away by how good was his singing voice even if he was only 14

after he felt comfortable in the warblers, he became friends with nick and jeff, and they were a trio of dumbassess, wes and david (usually the most mature of all the warblers) sighed everytime they saw nick, jeff and blaine doing something stupid

trent joined in sometimes but he always had been a really chill dude, and he saw blaine as a older brother (even tho blaine is younger than him)

jeff, nick and blaine pulled pranks on wes and david like hiding stuff from them and act all inocent when they asked if they saw said thing

the warblers had a bet going on how long would it take for kurt and blaine to start dating (and yes all of them shipped klaine, and even after kurt and blaine went to mckinley the warblers still kept hearing about them and seeing them on jacob ben israel's blog)

jeff, nick, trent, wes and david were the only real friends blaine had there

wes and david has already gratuated when the slushie happened, and nick, jeff and trent all apologized to blaine after that (even though they had no idea that was gonna happen) but their friendship was never the same

- blaine and cooper's relationship

as we know, blaine and cooper didnt got very along when blaine was growing up, cooper is 9 years older than blaine, and has always been really hard on him and thaat made blaine really dislike cooper, even tho he really wanted for them to be friends, he always has bitter feelings towards him duo to all of the pressure and expectation he was under because cooper was the oldest, and blaine felt like he had to be just as good or better than him, so he also had a lot A LOT of jealousy

but that started to change after "big brother", when they talk things out, cooper finally realizes how blaine feels, and starts doing his best to be best brother to blaine

they dont become besties immediatly, blaine helps him with his audition (which makes kurt really proud and happy seeing cooper being all excited talking to blaine, while blaine is trying to pretend like hes cool but actually hes just as excited), and they start to talk more and more after that

after finn dies is when they start getting actually close, after the funeral, he calls cooper but dosent say the reason why, he just says that he loves him and that he misses his big brother, they call and talk to each other a lot more after cooper finds out about finn

when cooper has a son, he and blaine teach the little guy how to dance and they play a lot of happy and fun piano songs to him

- the anderhummel family

blaine and burt are actually really close, they both like sports and beer so they watch games together and bet about whos gonna win, burt sorta of became the dad blaine lost, but in a non weird way, because they both agreed that blaine calling burt "dad" after he married kurt was just... weird

finn and blaine played a lot of videogames together, sam and puck played with them too, but when kurt was helping on dinner or more interested in a magazine or trying to convince carole to let him do a makeover on her, finn and blaine played videogames and maybe sometimes gossip about kurt and rachel (after he became besties with sam he did that same thing but hey playing videogames and talking about your s/o is fun!)

carole took care of blaine when he was in the hospital for the eye surgery, and when he was hangover at kurt's after biota she helped him with all the vomiting and headaches and all of that

pam met carole and burt when blaine got slushied, blaine was already like family to the hudson-hummels at that point, so when burt found out what happened he ran to the hospital, (carole was already working there anyway) and thats where they met, it wasnt ideal and all of them wete stressed and worried but they got along pretty well

pam, burt and carole werent really close since pam was usually out working, but the few times they sat down to talk to each other they really liked. pam thinks burt and carole are a sweet couple, that raised two wondeful boys and burt and carole think that pam is a sweet and funny lady, they all exchanged embarassing stories about kurt and blaine (that made them go "MOM DONT TELL THEM THAT" or "DAS STOP I WAS 7")

pam absolutely adores kurt, he was fascinated when he found out she had a line of cosmetics and spended hours talking to her about skincare routines

blaine can always make carole laugh, she thinks hes a sweetheart and usually keeps burt from bursting into the room when the door of kurts bedroom is closed ("i told them already, leave at least 2 inches open, is that really so hard??" "honey, relax they're just watching a movie" "im going in there" "no you're not leave the boys alone")

burt has walked in a few times on klaine making out on the couch and he always makes a joke about it to not make it awkward

burt was thrillled to know he was gonna be a grandpa, and he spoils tracy anderson to OBLIVION (blaine doesnt argues because he sorta of does the same thing)

even after both breakups, burt and blaine had always kept in touch, maybe it wasnt what it used to be when he and kurt were still mad at each other, but once they go back being friends, blaine is a little more comfortable in hangin out with the hudson-family

- blaine's depression in s6

i think is canon thay blaine had depression and anxiety during the whole show, right? it just got worse in s6 because kurt breaking up with him was sort of what pulled the trigger

it begun when his father neglected him, and it only got worse and worse, he was abandoned by his father and sometimes felt like by his mother and brother too, he had anxiety and it got worse after sadie hawkings, then kurt and him broke up for the first time, and he kept bottling it all up until it all reached the boiling point and it all exploded when kurt broke up with him

(side note, i think that when kurt started pulling away from him in s6, it reminded him of his dad pulling away too, his dad tried to bond with him but i feel that as harder blaine tried to make his dad stay, didnt matter and his dad kept pulling away until he was gone, that makes a parallel to s6 breakup, and why blaine was trying so SO hard to make kurt stay, because he had been there before, and he wasnt good enough for his dad, and he really wanted to be good enough for kurt)

so, after they breakup, blaine stays in a cheap hotel, not getting out of bed and feeling empty inside, his phone buzzed a little with missing calls from his friends but at some point the batery died and he just ignored, he only charged after 2 days because he probably had to let people know he's still alive

he went back to the loft in the afternoon, because he knew kurt wouldn't be there, he was going away and leaving nothing behind when kurt showed up, blaine was kinda of embarassed because he was probably stinking and his hair and clothes were a mess

im not sure if they talked at all after the breakup night, but i kinda feel that blaine might have said to kurt something like "you think i'm broken? when are gonna realize the problem here isnt just me? i should have known, everytime things get serious and scary between us you run, you're so afraid of something and honestly i have no idea of what, please just stay away from me" (i dont knooow he was angry and being all cold to kurt and shit i think that happened and maybe thats what made kurt go to therapy)

he got kicked out of nyada because he didnt left his hotel room for anything other than food, and he felt even more lost after receiving the email saying he was no longer a student there, thats when he decided to go back to lima

in lima, he barely left his room, he didnt ate for days and when he wasnt crying he was sleeping, his friends would call, text and sometimes try to visit him but he never texted back, answered the calls or opened the doors for them, sam was the only one that had some success because he was living in lima too and could go to blaine's house more often, sometimes he got lucky and blaine would open the door for him

at first he tried to do pep talks to help his bestie get better, but nothing helped so at one point he just sat there with blaine and did nothing with him, because at least like that he wouldnt be alone

one day blaine felt a little better and started trying to be okay again, it was never easy but he got a job at breadsticks, and even tho he would much rather be in his bed he kept working because at least like that his mind was busy with something

after he started therapy, he still felt empty inside, the world was still sorta of grey to him and he didnt felt like doing anything, so he had to take meds for that, and kept taking them even after kurt cane back (but as blaine was getting better they slowly became less and less needed)

when blaine started working at dalton, he was already in a much better place that he was when he came back, and throughout s6 he was still battling depression, and wasnt always okay, sometimes he would still want to just be alone and dont talk to anybody or do anything, and if that happened when he was surronded with people he would just be more quiet, that sometimes got rachel and kurt's attention, because they're not used to this "new" blaine and when they asked him if he was doing okay he would just say "yeah, im just tired" sam later on explained to them what that usually meant, it meant that blaine needed some alone time because he was draining himself a lot

- blaine at nyada vs blaine at nyu

soooo i have a good theory about this one, at nyada blaine was constantly surronded by people who would probably kill someone to get at the top, to be the best

and was such a competitive place, that ended up being toxic for blaine. i used to think that he didnt fit there because he always was one of the best in show choir and dalton and he was always *that* guy, but now i think he didnt fit there because actually he dosent like competition that much

okay, sure, playful competiton with your friends its fun, show choir competiton is fun, fighting with tina, mercedes, rachel, santana and unique about solos was fun because it was serious but he was with his friends so okay, whatever

but the competition they had at nyada was just SO MUCH, and lets agree nyada is kinda of a toxic place in general, people made fun of kurts face and clothing there, rachel's "friends" ditched her when she lost the diva off to kurt and started kissing up to him, and (im not sure about this one but like 99%) people laughed when blaine lost to kurt at combat's class

my point is, in nyada, people only like you if you do well in classes, there's a lot of lying and backstabbing going on and c'mon blaine pratically grew up like this with cooper

always not good enough, always behind, always made fun of, never being great at anything, so maybe thats why blaine felt so stressed at nyada, and why he gets so insecure in 5x16, seeing kurt being praised and getting all of that attention might have reminded him of the years he and cooper didnt get along so well

he didnt found himself at nyada, mostly he was there because it was said to be the best school and rachel and kurt were there, so great, right?

but i get the feeling that at nyu things were a little lighter, not easier, but lighter, it didnt had so much toxic people, it wasnt a place where it was kill or be killed, people helped each other when needed and yes there was still competition, obviously but (almost) nobody made fun of people for failing

(i said almost there because im sure there was some douchbags there too, they're everywhere, but i hope you got my point)

- blaine's friendships

i am almost done i am so sorry this is so long i've been here for like 2 hours

i have some small headcanons about blaine's friends, because we did NOT get enough of his friendships (im leaving kurt out of this one because maybe one day ill do a meta/hc/theory about klaine....... maybe)

mike and blaine were besties on s3

they both like to dance and sometimes they+brittany would do a dance number together, sometimes for the glee club to see, sometimes only to themselves because thats fun

mike talked with blaine after the its not right but its okay number to see what happened and if he was okay (actually it was mostly blaine just venting about it "AND THEN HE SAID HE WANTED TO MAKE KURTS VOICE HIS RINGTONE I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK????????")

blaine talked to mike about mike's dad because he knew what mike was going through and they both agreed thay family sucks sometimes

after mike graduated he and blaine kept têxtil each other and sometimes sending gifs or videos of dance moves to each other

santana and blaine were actually really good friends

after the glee club found out about what santana's grandmother had done when she came out, when they were alone blaine told santana about his dad, even tho he was afraid she was gonna tell everyone because he doesnt like talking about it, just so that she would know that shes not alone and its not her fault, santana never once teased or told anyone about this, she always sorta of liked him and thought he was nice but that moment she started seeing him as a friend

while preparing for the new directions vs warblers in 3x11, santana tried helping blaine bring out his inner bad boy, she helped him pick his outfit and they planned together the whole performance

(im stealing this one from a post i rebloged i guess a day ago? i didnt found the blog to tag but this is the post) > santana and blaine are friends on facebook, and follow each other on twitter and instagram, and they always spam on each others profiles because they're comfortable to do that with each other

santana kinda sees blaine as a male version of brittany, so she has this need of protecting him (which is kinda why she was super invested in getting him justice for his eye)

speaking of his eye, when he was at home before surgery, santana went there and told that she was gonna make sebastian confess what he'd put on thr slushie, blaine asked her how she knew where she lived but she cut him off, she also came back there after and told him everything, and she and kurt asked him what he wanted to do about it

brittany and blaine really were sunshine twins

they always liked each other, blaine didnt get her at first, but he got used to it

she always talked to him about cats, and what lord tubbington was up to, she tried inviting him to fondue for 2 but he knew that she would ask some really private questions so he always came up with an excuse

after he almost went back to dalton, she (alongside with tina, sam and marley) tried to make him feel as welcome as possible

when she was dating sam, sometimes the three of them would go to her house after school and cuddle in her bed with lord tubbington while watching a movie

when britt was planning their weddings, she asked blaine to try up some suits (with the excuse that she wasnt sure the one she picked was right), but she asked him that like a day after he kissed kurt at rachels party so she could tell he was kinda sad and asked him why, he told her and she said it was gonna be okay because their love was magical (it was weird but it did made blaine feel good, so...) she was also the only person he told that

blaine and britt always have ideas like "we should totally put glitter in the entire room to celebrate our wedding aniversary!" kurt and santana shut down the idea at the same time

blamtina were like 3 chaotic brothers

sam and blaine would have a dumb idea that would result in absolute chaos (but funny tho) and tina always plays along with them even if she thinks its a bad idea

the three of them are completely harry potter nerds, sam and blaine are hufflepuffs while tina is a ravenclaw, in a halloween party in s4 they went as the golden trio

after graduation, sam and blaine still skyped tina and told her all about ny, and she would tell them all about her collage

sam kept his promise of sending his imitations to tina and blaine sometimes would call her to vent about a fight he and kurt had

blaine read all of the harry potter books to sam

after sam talked blaine into staying at mckinley, sam and tina would always be with blaine, always talking to him, and spending time with him, thats how the 3 of them got so close

marley and blaine were good friends

when marley joined the new directions, blaine was one of the first to make her feel welcome

when blaine almost left for dalton, she tried make him see that she liked him in the nd too, and would randomly start talking to him so that he wouldnt feel alone

she would rant about jake to him sometimes, like how he wanted to have sex but she wasnt ready, and blaine told her she should do it only when she felt comfortable

after she got suspended, he apologized for yelling at her because of the performance, and remembered mr schue that she was recovering from an eating desorder and that he shouldnt be so hard at her

unique and blaine were "frenemies"

they started off not liking each other, since they both wanted it to be the new rachel, even after blaine won, he and unique still were kinda competitive with each other

but eventually they became sort-of-friends, they sang together sometimes when no one else was there, and they liked to pretend to not like each other but yes they did and it was just their thing

sometimes marley would do a sleepover and she would call blaine, unique and tina, while marley was talking about jake or tina was talking about missing mike, blaine would braid unique's wig and she would try to convince him to let her see his hair without gel

when the whole plot of unique and the bathroom happened, when mr schue told everyone he couldnt give up twerking, blaine stood up for unique saying that wasnt fair and mr schue should try harder to help her, he also held her hand (alongside with marley) when she was scared of having to go to the bathroom again

blaine and mercedes talked to each other more than twice :O

lol ok im not sorry for that title

mercedes and blaine LIVED together people, she used to be kurts best friend, and sams girlfriend are you telling me they barely talked to each other? no

in fact, they really like each other's company, blaine is kinda of a goofball and mercedes thinks its funny

he would ask her to talk to sam when blaine wanted something from him, and mercedes did the same with kurt

sam and blaine would do stupid things together (like dance around their house in their underwear) just to make mercedes laugh, they swore to never tell anyone, and they never did

sometimes at 3 am when no one could sleep they would all have a little dance party until they got tired

blaine and mercedes are junky food addicts, they eat healthy and stuff but they love some cake at 5 in the morning

one time when kurt and mercedes were arguing about the tots, blaine sided with mercedes and told her he agreed that tots are delicious

#ok i think thats it #if you read it until the end.... are you okay? #i had some more but i want to post this today and i want to go to sleep so lets leave it like that #maybe i should have splitted in 2 parts???? its so long 😳 #i hope this didnt get to tiring to read #anywayyyyy #glee #blaine meta #blaine anderson #blangst #ps if you see some mispelling ignore it im kinda sleepy so... hehe

[amandlas]

tagged by the adorable @destiniesfic 🌹 thank you love!

How many works do you have on AO3?

ten (not counting deleted ones)

What’s your total AO3 word count?  

29,376 total words

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

can’t count across my lifetime (lets not touch my old quizilla history) but currently there are three

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

get me to the altar - 960

maybe this is danger and he just don’t know - 629

open for me - 395

the way you see it fall apart - 326

just your neck, and my beloved - 290

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

if there’s something i looooove it’s receiving comments! more than kudos tbh. and yes, sometimes i do respond to them. however, i selfishly try not to respond to any that don’t merit a response because i feel like it only ups my comments number for no reason. also, some are complimentary rather than inquisitive so i don’t know what to say other than “thank you”. i do read every single one and appreciate it though!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

obviously this bad boy almost gone (in these little moments get your cards out)

Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

neeeever hehe

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not that i recall thankfully

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

... my account is almost exclusively smut. if i were to write something in depth or emotional i wouldn’t want to waste it on fanfiction. rather i’d save that for manuscripts of original stories. so my account is one small little bubble of pwp!

my specialties range from emotional catharsis to bondage to dom/sub and dirty talk with slapping and surprisingly enough, it’s come to my attention that several of my fics have slight voyeurism? which?? 👀

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope! i did notice, however, that after posting get me to the altar some new fics sprung up with throne sex 😶 do with that info what you will

Have you ever had a fic translated?

that has never come to mind, actually. despite being bilingual myself that’s EMBARRASSING

What’s your all time favorite ship?

give me a J! give me a U! give me a DE! give me a catboy! what’s that spell? the ship with the most daddy issues! that’s right - JUDECARDAN!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

funny enough i have a finished wip! it’s heavily doused in religious themes though and i doubt it would be well received by the internet so i kept it in a secret google doc and sent it only to select friends. because who would want to see judecardan roleplay as jesus and judas, right? anywho, other than that, i started an au where jude wasn’t abducted by madoc but rather found by ahem other people. it spanned into this long umbrella academy-style storyline that i doubt i can see through.

What are your writing strengths?

uhhh this is difficult for me to say considering i’m self-aware but i can’t really see my own writing from an objective point of view. therefore i invited a guest!

zara “that bitch” sanktaleksander comments: i enjoy your characterization and dialogue because it feels very real

What are your writing weaknesses?

as my bestie zara says, verbatim: Over fucking description bro I’ll kill u for that

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i love it. i try to do so as often as i can, including my judecardan’s babies mini-fic! it’s glaringly obvious that i love a character when i make them multilingual

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

gosh who even remembers. probably some dumb 14-year-old take on ghostgirl or avatar the last airbender

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

get me to the altar was the first smut fic in which i “put myself out there”. it was so well received i wrote the rest! it will always have a special place for me. second to that is probably right at the borderline is where i’m gonna wait

a dozen thanks for the ask! 🕊️

tagging: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @moononastring @jurdanhell @wanderingpages @anonniemousefics

#about nicky #the fact that i had to use a calculator for a tumblr post... criminal #i didnt realize i had that many kudos on my writing i wont even lie. thanks everyone! #to me im more fulfilled by hearing from people and thats why comments is what i like the most #the surefire way to my heart! #nicky writes

[ambivalentmarvel]

so the story behind this is that @sreppub​ arrived in my dms saying “sitcom starring two uppity, former rich guys and a regular poor college kid who follow up an online ad and become roommates” and i said something along the lines of “your MIND” and here we are. she does the art, i do the fic, and we both yell a lot along the way. read it on here or ao3 and enjoy!!

The Sitcom Supreme

If Peter or Stephen were around to hear Tony tell the story of how they all ended up rooming together, they would have plenty of objections, to which he would call them both dirty liars, to which they would gang up on him because they’re terrible and like that, to which he would probably throw up his hands in exasperation and/or make the mistake of engaging them in a debate, to which they would grin like wolves because, once again, they’re terrible and like that, but Tony’s the asshole who put up the Craigslist ad, so he gets to start—because he’s terrible and like that.

It’s a common trait amongst the three of them, what can he say?

The beginning of the story does not involve either of the other two, however. It begins with Rhodey, who is only occasionally terrible and like that. Rhodey has been Tony’s best friend since the tender age of fifteen. Considering Tony at age fifteen was a greasy little douche bag with too much money and a whole bunch of daddy issues that were somehow more obvious then than they are in the present, this is an impressive feat. 

Where things start, Rhodey and Tony are roommates at MIT, which is Howard’s school of choice to shove his problem child onto. Tony is supposed to get a single dorm room, but there’s a cockroach problem in that building. Administration has to get creative, which is how Rhodey, fresh out of boot for the fall semester, gets saddled with approximately one hundred and fifty pounds of neglected teenage boy who has only kind of gone through puberty.

The first words out of Tony’s mouth are blunt: “Any chance you have plans to drop out?”

And Rhodey looks at him with a raised brow, efficiently unpacked and totally unimpressed with the enormous stack of Tony’s things wavering in the doorway. “You have any plans to quit being annoying?” he retorts, which set the tone for their entire relationship.

Tony loves him to pieces. 

He’s the older brother he never knew he needed, yanking him by his collar from frat parties on the weekends and to his house for holidays because getting swamped by Rhodey’s six younger siblings is infinitely better than having to wear a suit and tie for Christmas dinner with six CEOs and maybe some senators, depending on the year. In return, Tony sees him through every finals week of his collegiate career, during which Rhodey gets so nervous he usually pukes at least daily and pulls so many all-nighters Tony memorizes the exact shade of red his eyes are at the end.

So, it’s safe to say they get along well. They get along so well, as a matter of fact, that when they stare at each other after their graduation ceremony for their Masters—a two-year process for both of them, and Rhodey receives two degrees to Tony’s four—surrounded by Rhodey’s family and Jarvis, Tony’s lips curl in a smirk Rhodey knows spells the best kind of trouble. “What do you say we keep the roommate streak alive, yeah? Howard’s building an office in New York, and I’m thinking of doing a doctorate at NYU.”

Rhodey’s brows raise, but he’s grinning, so Tony already knows his answer. “Depends. Are you still gonna’ snore?”

“Are you still gonna’ have a stick up your a—”

Mama Rhodes shoots Tony a look from where she’s trying to corral the rest of her kids.

“—butt?” he finishes with a sheepish glance her way.

Rhodey does not even remotely have a stick up his ass, but of the two of them, he features in tabloids far, far less, which Tony somehow uses to his advantage.

“You know it,” Rhodey replies, and so they find a fancy penthouse that Tony mostly pays for, with the excuse of Rhodey satisfying his part of rent via generally covering Tony’s ass to the best of his ability. And he has a lot of ability, honed from years upon years of Tony self-destructing at the drop of a hat, but there’s only so much he can do, especially as his military career just keeps flying higher and Howard just keeps pushing Tony harder.

A few sex tapes, especially wild benders, and crashed cars later, when Howard cuts Tony off and tells him, quote, “I won’t speak to you until you learn to do something other than disappoint me”, Rhodey very gracefully still shacks up with him in their considerably less fancy apartment.

This is all important to know, contrary to what someone whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange might say about Tony’s “long-winded” and “overly-complicated” storytelling tendencies because it explains exactly why Rhodey is a traitor.

Is Carol a very cool lady who could kick Tony’s ass? Yes. Is she sickeningly cute with Rhodey and not just because a smile from her makes him melt into a pile of fucking goo on the floor? Also yes. Does it probably make more sense for Tony to find roommates who will actually be around to monitor his—allegedly—poor mental health and self-care habits? Okay, fine, yes, but the bottom line is, Rhodey is moving in with Carol and abandoning Tony, and nobody said he had to like it.

(This is not strictly true, what with the approximately ten conversations Rhodey and he have had about his happiness and how, if Tony needs him, all he has to do is say the word and he’ll be back, but Tony has always had a flair for the dramatic.)

The whole idea is that Tony will find someone gone less than Rhodey with all his military business to enjoy having around the apartment. It’s technically a three-bedroom, but he and Rhodey use the extra one for storage. Fortunately or unfortunately, that storage area has become a lot of junk they go through before Rhodey makes his grand exit, and Tony suddenly has the option of having two roommates.

The ad is a low point, he can admit that, but there is a flaw in what Tony loudly calls Rhodey’s master plan to leave him alone to wallow in misery: Tony doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends, nevermind people who he’d want to live with.

“Rhodey. Honeybear. Platypus.”

“The nicknames are old, and you need to stop using them around Carol. She called me Platypus last night during sex, and it ruined the whole mood.”

“You poor thing.”

“She thought it was hilarious.”

If Tony has to lose Rhodey to anybody, by God, Carol is his first choice by a long shot.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Sourpatch—”

“I hate you.”

“—how am I supposed to find someone else to live with?”

Tony is thirty-two and regularly speaks out with all of four people: Pepper, Rhodey, Carol, and Happy. Unfortunately, Happy works in Stark Industries’ California branch and has stated rather firmly that he’s not interested in transferring to the city, Pepper wouldn’t live with another person for love or money, and the other two are spoken for.

It’s a terrible situation to be in, honestly.

“Craigslist,” Rhodey deadpans, fighting with some packing tape.

Tony feels his heart stop beating in real time from his place folding some of Rhodey’s clothes into a plastic tub. His head snaps up, and his jaw drops, absolutely affronted. “You would suggest that I, even disowned and stripped of my former glory—” Tony has several million dollars in the stock market, but that’s neither here nor there and isn’t much compared to the fact that he was supposed to be a billionaire. “—would stoop to looking for live-in friends on Craigslist?”

Rhodey looks up to meet his eyes, unfazed. He’s used to Tony’s antics after nearly two decades of friendship. “Well, I’m not moving out until you have at least one person guaranteed to take my place, so unless you have any better ideas, yeah.” He shrugs—just shrugs, as if he isn’t advising Tony to scrape the bottom of the fucking barrel in terms of reliable people to regularly fall asleep around.

It’s insulting.

“I’m not putting out an ad for a roommate on Craigslist,” he protests, shoving the next horribly colored polo into the tub with disdain.

That night, he tears up thinking about stopping Rhodey from being happy with Carol, and the post is up by the time Rhodey gets up—stupidly early, like normal—for his morning run. Along with his contact information and a few blurry pictures of the place, it includes a blurb about the circumstances.

Best friend moving out. Need a roommate or I will die of Sadness. His girlfriend is cool but hewas mind first. Carol, I am watching you. Two rooms open for business. But not sketchy business. You can just lve there. Current resident (me) is cool and very charming. I am a man. No dumb fuck offers. Thanks.

It could use some work, but Tony’s never been great with words, even less so when he’s crying to rock ballads at two in the morning. He edits it when he wakes up, and by noon that day, it’s looking better.

At seven o’clock that evening, he receives one of two messages that actually work out.

Enter the first offender: Peter Parker.

Peter, Tony will learn, is nineteen, attending NYU—like Tony did, which is a sign, really—for a double major in biochemistry and physics, and has the worst luck of anyone Tony’s ever met.

Rhodey’s moving out in a week—he’s been putting off finding a roommate for a while, alright—and Peter has to legally be out of his dorm in three days. That is quite the predicament, and Tony, by nature, is a curious creature. He is not, however, one for beating around the bush. That results in a text that reads exactly this.

Tony: What the hell did you do?

He could hack through the university files, but explanations are always more fun with a personal touch that’s lacking in, say, an incident report. Tony watches a bubble with three blinking dots for a long, long time, and the reply is surprisingly sparse—sparse enough, in fact, for Tony to have more questions than answers when he receives it.

Unknown Sender: theres been a few things but the kicker was the fire

Tony: The fire?

Unknown Sender: i tried to make popcorn and the microwave blew up

Now that is some problematic behavior Tony can get behind. He amends the kid’s previously non-existent contact information.

Tony: How can they kick you out for that? That’s not your fault.

Roommate (?) Peter: it blacked out the power on the entire first floor

Tony: And?

Roommate (?) Peter: last month i got the blame for contaminating half the campus water supply

Roommate (?) Peter: so i was already on thin ice

Tony: Accidentally?

Roommate (?) Peter: idk sometimes things just happen to me

Tony doesn’t know how to respond to that. If Rhodey knew, he’d never let him live it down. He can hear his annoying laugh in his ears like a premonition—“Hah—Tony, speechless?”—but then there are the dots again and a simple message to follow the last, a touch pathetic.

Roommate (?) Peter: please let me move in

Tony likes him.

Peter shows up on the stairs of the complex thirty-six hours after Tony posted the ad with a backpack and a meager total of six beat-to-shit boxes. The backpack holds nearly all of his school supplies, which makes Tony, in retrospect, genuinely fearful for the integrity of his spine, and the contents of the boxes are sorted, as Tony will learn, into three categories that each have two boxes in them. The categories are fairly simple—clothing, necessities, and whatever other shit he could fit from his dorm—and leave Peter with thrilling possessions such as an entire collection of truly atrocious shirts with science puns on them, a gallon of hand soap, and any food he had in his cupboards.

Thankfully, Rhodey is out furniture shopping with Carol when Tony goes out to meet him, which solves the problem of Rhodey going into overbearing caretaker mode at the sight of a beanpole of a kid failing to manage their life successfully. As someone who has been made many a you-haven’t-eaten-a-meal-in-two-days-and-I’m-secretly-a-panicking-mother-hen casserole, Tony counts his blessings.

Tony waves. “Peter?” he asks, reluctantly changed out of his pajamas for the day.

The kid nods. “That’s me. And you’re Tony?”

“Guilty as charged. Want a hand with those boxes?” he asks, watching Peter lift three at a time.

“No, I got it,” he insists, and then the box on top slides out of his grip and onto the sidewalk.

Peter stares at it for a second before he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Maybe I could use some help,” he admits, and with much struggle, the two of them, each with three boxes, waddle inside. There is a moment and only one moment where Tony thinks that it might be nice to have some extra assistance, but with another thought of the things Rhodey would do at the sight of a woefully inept college kid, Tony decides it’s for the best.

Tony leads the operation, considering he has the key and also knows explicitly where they’re going, and he would have to say his biggest complaint about the ordeal is that Sam, who lives in the apartment below Tony and Rhodey with Steve and Bucky, happens to open his door as they walk by.

Being an asshole, he has something to say about it. “Need some help, shellhead?” he crows.

Tony wishes he had a free hand to flip him off.

“Watch your back, Wilson,” he growls in return, a continuation of the beef the five of them have maintained since they met approximately seven years ago, when they all moved in on the same day and kept knocking into each other’s shit in the halls.

When they reach the top of the next flight of stairs and Tony starts to fumble with the key, Peter asks about it. “So—uh—who was that?”

“That was Sam. Part of the deal with moving in is that you harass him and the other two idiots who live with him. He also responds to jackass, douchecanoe, or birdbrain.”

“Birdbrain?”

“It’s an old joke. He had a rather—” Tony grunts, forced to set down his load to unlock the door, “—spectacular run-in with some pigeons a few years ago.”

“Oh.”

“They shat on him. A lot.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a good nickname,” Tony assures him, throwing open the door with his arms flung wide for dramatic flair. “Welcome to Casa Stark. I mean, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker now, but if we’re hyphenating, my name goes first because I lived here first.” He holds up a finger as if to stall Peter, who has yet to speak from where his mouth is decidedly blocked by the aforementioned three boxes he is carrying. “And I know what you’re going to say—that Parker-Stark works better because it’s alphabetical—but that is where you are wrong because letters have no place in this house. Numbers are much preferred, and we play by seniority here, anyway.”

He gives Peter a meaningful look that he cannot see because, once again, boxes.

“More on that, by the way—”

“Hey, Tony?” 

He cuts him off which is, objectively, rude, but Tony rarely gets along with people who aren’t a little curt with him from time to time. This is a positive sign, really, so he allows it.

“Yeah?” 

“This can be Casa Stark-Parker, but can we get to somewhere I can set these down? My arms are, like, going to give out on me.”

Not even ten minutes in, and he’s already learned the art of bargaining. Tony’s proud, and he ushers him inside without any more monologues and a grin stretched across his face.

Peter, by virtue of moving in before Rhodey is out, ends up with the room that is no longer being used for storage. Tony has several questions for him, beginning with the fact that, despite the six packets of instant noodles he bothered to bring, he does not appear to have a mattress. Or a desk. Or a dresser. Or anything that’s supposed to go in a room.

His solutions for Tony’s concerns are as follows.

In place of a bed, he has two blankets, one to put on the floor and one to cover himself with. He was planning on sitting on the floor to do schoolwork instead of using a desk. And finally, he was going to leave his clothes in the boxes.

This is all relayed to Tony with an earnest gleam in his eyes and a smile.

Tony blinks in disbelief. Then, very eloquently, he says, “Kid, that is the saddest shit I have ever heard. Aren’t your parents helping you with the move to an apartment?”

The kid shifts from foot to foot, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing to the side.

Tony’s eyes narrow. As someone who is extremely well-versed in avoidance tactics, he feels very confident in saying that is definitely a fucking avoidance tactic.

“About that,” he begins, “first of all, I’m an orphan.” Jesus Christ. “Second of all, my aunt doesn’t exactly—uh—know I got kicked out of the dorms.”

That is all interesting information, to say the least, but luckily, Tony thrives under pressure.

“Alright. I can respect that.”

It’s not like he never hid anything from his parents. Evading his aunt is Peter’s problem, not Tony’s. None of this is Tony’s problem, really, except then he looks around the room and wonders which of Peter’s boxes are holding his two blankets.

Tony was concerned about Rhodey, but he can’t stop himself.

“But I’m also gonna’ level with you—you’re not sleeping on the ground. You can take the couch.”

The until I get you a proper bed frame and mattress goes unsaid, but sometimes things like that are better as surprises. It’ll be a fun housewarming gift, Tony thinks, and by the time the shipment from IKEA arrives containing both of those things and the aforementioned missing dresser and desk, there will be a third roommate to help put it all together, not that either of them know it yet.

That night, Rhodey and Carol show up with enough ingredients for lasagna to serve four, and Tony delights in showing off Peter as they cook because now he has a “super cool roommate too! Take that, Platypus.”

Rhodey glances to Peter. “If you’re being held hostage, blink twice.”

“Hey!” Tony protests. He is a perfectly lovable roommate, thank you very much, and he’s so offended, he’s not even going to let Rhodey know about his mission to furnish Peter’s room.

God bless her, Carol just laughs.

The four of them get along with surprising ease, considering Peter’s only been around for a few hours. Peter even tries to help with the lasagna, but Tony has a near-photographic memory and has not remotely forgotten the popcorn incident, however vaguely it was described.

“You just sit there and be a nicer person than Rhodey,” he urges him, and Peter nods, hiding his grin behind his hand at the argument that starts.

Once everyone is done, he and Rhodey get suckered into dish duty while Carol spirits Peter off to the living room, claiming she has to warn him about what he’s getting into. Tony doesn’t care enough to complain, and when her back is turned, he splashes a plate of suds onto Rhodey’s front. 

Rather than rise to the bait, however, he raises his brows, slipping into what Tony affectionately calls his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode. “You have to be a good example for him, Tones.”

Tony blinks. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”

“I’m serious!” They keep their voices mostly down, but Rhodey’s rises a bit with the declaration.

“He’s nineteen—an adult, in case you forgot. He signed the lease all on his own and everything,” he hisses back incredulously.

He thought he dodged the bullet by not disclosing just how underprepared Peter is to live in an apartment, but Rhodey’s head dips. Tony braces himself for the part of his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode where he tells Tony he’s making a bullshit excuse and needs to get it together. “Don’t give me that. He’s a baby adult at best, and you know it.”

Yep, there it is.

“That’s still an adult!”

It is! Tony was on his own way earlier than nineteen. This is not a big deal, no matter how outlandish Peter’s circumstances are for moving out of NYU’s dorms.

“Watch his back.”

Tony scoffs. “It’s not like I was going to feed him to the wolves. I’m barely thirty—I’m not his dad.”

“Tony.”

Ah, the final, crushing blow of this version of Rhodey: his name—but with emphasis.

Tony sighs. “Fine,” he acquiesces. “I solemnly swear I will not let him get up to no good.”

A beat. Rhodey squints at him, slowly lowering the plate he’s holding into the sink. “You told me you refused to read Harry Potter.”

Shit.

Back when the books were first coming out, Rhodey was insufferably obsessed with them, and Tony loves him, but emotionally, he couldn’t handle having Rhodey think he was willing to discuss anything having to do with the series for longer than thirty seconds. Thus, he read the books—everyone in the world was doing the same, okay, and he cannot stand being out of the loop—but lied to Rhodey about it.

And now, he’s been made.

Rhodey and he launch into a very spirited discussion that draws Carol and Peter back to the kitchen, and despite the vein throbbing dangerously in Rhodey’s forehead, the promise has been made.

The day after Rhodey moves out, he and Peter manage to flood the bathroom.

In Tony’s defense, he only promised to look out for Peter. He said nothing about curbing his own dumbass tendencies, and it’s not like Bucky’s bedroom is all that damaged by the leak that Tony fixes before it’s really even a problem.

He and Peter settle into a nice sense of camaraderie, and Tony, content with his situation, forgets to take down his Craiglist ad that, logically speaking, someone would have to dig to find at this point, over a week after initially posting it.

Then, he receives a text that is as simple as it is effective: Is there still an available room in the apartment?

Enter the second offender: Stephen Strange.

Ahem, Doctor Stephen Strange, technically, but Tony has six PhDs. Nobody sees him going around making people call him Doctor Stark, and that’s because it makes him sound pretentious and stuffy, both things Tony prides himself on not being. However, Tony likes to push buttons, and very little gets Stephen worked up as fast as someone ignoring his credentials.

It’s a fun set-up, really, but annoying the piss out of Stephen is something that comes a little later—Tony’s not there yet in the story.

He humors the text, and after getting a read on things, he bursts into the living room, startling Peter nearly off the couch. He’s been doing his homework there and on the coffee table in front of it because the Swedish have many things but fast shipping is, apparently, not one of them, not that Peter knows there’s anything to be waiting on, but he’s getting off-topic.

Peter lets out a short yelp and presses a hand over his heart, both things that Tony ignores.

“We have a situation,” he announces.

“I swear I didn’t do it,” Peter defends pleadingly.

Tony is trying to teach him that messing things up is expected and, especially in particularly magnificent cases, admired in Casa Stark-Parker, but it’s a work in progress.

“I know you didn’t—don’t be ridiculous,” he waves his concerns off. “We are talking bigger than setting things on fire by accident. I bring you, my young protege, the proposition of—” A pause for dramatic effect. “—another roommate.”

“Ooh,” Peter says appropriately, setting his textbook down to examine the texts Tony brandishes. He begins to scroll, but while he does, Tony figures he can go ahead and fill him in on the essentials. It’s a very juicy situation, after all, and he can’t help himself.

“His name is Stephen Strange. He’s a neurosurgeon, but he got into a pretty bad car wreck that messed up his hands. He’s trying to save money while he goes to physical therapy—he apparently has a chance of recovery, but it’s a ways off—and that includes downsizing on where he lives.”

“I mean, yikes, but that’s an oddly specific backstory.”

“I’m glad you think that too, but I am intrigued. I looked him up, and he’s a real person—has a basically flawless reputation, or at least he did before his accident. Thoughts?”

Please say yes, please say yes, Tony thinks. The chance of a competent human—not including Rhodey, who looks more put together than he really is next to the chaos Tony perpetually dwells in—choosing to live with him is too fascinating to pass up, and he needs Peter to see that too.

Peter shrugs. “I’m down if you are. How old is he?”

Victory!

Satisfaction floods Tony, but he tries to maintain his cool.

“Thirty.”

Peter blows out a long breath, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “I didn’t anticipate moving into a nursing home,” he remarks dryly.

What a little shit.

It’s worth noting half the reason Rhodey left so easily is because he said he trusted Peter to keep Tony on his toes. Then again, that Tony likes being snarked at is a large part of why they get along so well despite only knowing each other for a matter of days.

“You’re the worst, Parker. I’m going to feed you to the hooligans downstairs. Steve has a monster appetite, you know.”

Peter hums, picking his textbook back up. “Not if I feed you to them first. And, Tony?”

“What?”

“Only old people say hooligans.”

Tony thinks about that one book, Give a Mouse a Cookie or whatever. Except in his case, it’s Rent a Teenager an Apartment, and Tony doesn’t have to adhere to the literary equivalent of a G-rating.

His response to the dig is creative and colorful, and Peter laughs.

Four days and a brief conversation at a coffee shop later—a formality he and Peter did not do and probably something Tony should’ve thought of as the older adult before giving him the address—Stephen’s team of movers invade the apartment.

The man himself stands like a drill sergeant at the last flights of stairs it takes to get to the apartment, arms crossed, beard wild, conducting activity.

Peter and Tony share their evaluations, peeking their head out from the doorway when it’s unoccupied by movers and Stephen isn’t looking their way. This involves quite a bit of ducking, but they are very careful not to be caught.

(Someone’s whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange later informs that “they were not at all subtle” and “were, in fact, very embarrassing”, but that’s how things with the three of them generally are, so Tony figures it was a good crash course to how life together goes.)

“He’s kind of scraggly,” Peter whispers, his head under Tony’s because he’s the shorter of the two of them, something Tony delights in refuting Peter’s quips about his age with.

“Kind of? He looks like a hobo.”

It’s true, okay? Facially, at least, the guy is a wreck. He’s not quite to Einstein levels of bad hair day, but he’s getting there.

“Be nice,” Peter chastises him. He’s gentler than Rhodey when he does it, but considering neither of them ever shut the hell up and they have thus bonded very easily over the course of their short relationship, it’s gotten to feel as natural as most of their interactions.

“All I’m saying is that I am happy to retain my place as the most attractive person in the apartment, okay?”

They’re forced to retreat from the entryway as another load comes through, and Peter looks at him disbelievingly. “Dream on,” he replies bluntly.

Tony gasps in offense.

Peter shrugs. “Look, I’m just gonna’ say it—you knew Rhodey before me, and now that I’m here—” he trails off, looking at Tony in faux-sympathy that doesn’t match the mischievous glint in his eyes.

While it is true that Rhodey is a fine specimen of a man—yet another reason Tony can’t, in good conscience, be truly angry Carol mooched him away from the bachelor lifestyle—Tony can’t cede that easily for the sake of his pride, and he scowls. “I am going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

They’re still bickering as the movers finish up and Stephen enters the apartment, dressed in what Tony recognizes as the latest from Armani and Tom Ford.

He may not get invited to fashion week anymore, but he still has taste, alright, even if Rhodey limits him to one designer purchase a month.

(Rhodey isn’t around to see what packages he orders now, Tony thinks but shelves the thought for later.)

Tony and Stephen met over coffee, and all three of them said hi to one another before the moving business officially began. However, there is a little stiffness in the air, make no mistake. It’s not Stephen’s fault, exactly, because he’s just kind of a foreboding guy, but still.

It figures that Peter would break the ice. As Tony’s found and will continue to discover, Peter is just as talkative as him. Granted, that trait usually appears in the form of rambling about something from class, but it’s not surprising that his natural passion for life comes through with someone about to be very, very involved in it. 

“Hi!” he begins. “Are all of the movers gone now?”

Stephen raises an unimpressed brow. “Yes.”

His reply is seriously lacking enthusiasm, but Tony isn’t allowed the opportunity to jump on that as Peter keeps going. 

“Sweet! Okay, so welcome to Casa Stark-Parker.”

Woah, woah, woah—timeout.

Tony frowns, raising a hand in a motion for Peter to stop. “I thought that was my thing?” he interjects.

“Well, it has my name in it, so it gets to be both of our things,” Peter replies, then furrows his brow, looking to Stephen. “Actually, since you’re here now, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker-Strange. Order’s based on who got here first, sorry,” he explains with a smile that Tony, now familiar with the fact that Peter has more to him than meets the eye, notes is a touch impish.

Tony is pleased to see, despite his generally wholesome appearance, the kid has at least picked up on the power of staking a claim.

Stephen blinks. His hands, Tony has noticed, don’t stop shaking, not even when he folds his arm across his chest, like a physical barrier between him and Peter’s excitement. “Okay?” he drawls slowly, confusedly.

“Tony’s rules, not mine,” Peter assures him as if he doesn’t just want the satisfaction of having his name not be the last in the line-up.

Tony scoffs. “Oh okay, so now we’re throwing me under the bus?”

“You have to take responsibility for your actions, Tony.”

“Oh, sure thing,” he replies, tone betraying that he does not, in fact, think any responsibility is at all necessary. He looks to Stephen, rolling his eyes. “Can you believe what I have to put up with? And it’s barely been a week.”

Stephen blinks again. “I see it’s a lot,” he says measuredly.

Peter gasps, unaffected. “Oh my God, we should make a sign for it,” he enthuses. “We can put it up on the door, and we’d be so much cooler than Sam and them.”

To say that Peter rose to the challenge of bothering their downstairs neighbors with zeal is something of an understatement. 

Tony is, honestly, a fan of the sign idea, especially if it were to light up, but that is where Stephen cuts in, his hands still trembling as he gestures. “Can we slow down for a moment?” He looks carefully from Tony and Peter and back again, bearing the appearance of a man in the throes of realizing he has made a bad decision. 

Tony knows that look well. It usually shows up when Rhodey agrees to one of Tony’s ideas and doesn’t realize just how badly constructed it is until it’s too late.

“First of all, I am fairly certain my car is parked illegally, and before we get too far, I need to fix it before I get towed. And secondly,” Tony watches Stephen’s lips curl in a self-satisfied, I-totally-think-I’m-better-than-you-even-if-I’m-not-technically-saying-it smile, “I am not here to be part of any Casa. I am waiting for physical therapy to work for me, and then I will be out of your hair. I appreciate being able to live here, but—”

Yeah, Tony’s had enough of that. Personally, he would like to thank Rhodey, who, in a way, begins and ends the story, and truly is the greatest best friend a man could have for teaching him how to properly deal with pompous rich people.

“Nuh-uh, none of that. If you’re living here, you’re a part of Casa Stark-Parker-Strange whether you like it or not.”

Stephen looks downright appalled that someone would dare to interrupt him, which, Tony knows from experience, is exactly the kind of shock rich people need to go through. He splutters for a second before he manages to get out a reply, “That was not in the lease.”

Tony spreads his hands as if to say what can you do? “And you didn’t mention in your texts that you were going to try to be a bump on a log, but here we are.”

Perhaps sensing the mounting animosity in the room or maybe just as excited as Tony to have someone to bother, Peter takes advantage of Stephen’s overwhelmed and bewildered state.

“First day with all three of us!” he shouts. “Picture!”

And before anyone can protest—including Tony, who would prefer to be documented in something other than a Black Sabbath tee and his work pants—Peter leans in with the camera on his phone ready to capture the moment.

In the resulting photo, Tony looks vaguely alarmed, Stephen looks pissed as hell, and Peter wears a grin that stretches across his whole face. The whole thing is blurry, and they eventually get it framed.

It’s a beautiful and fitting start to their time as roommates, and in the humble eyes of the asshole who posted the Craigslist ad, that is how the story of how they came to live together went.

#tony stark #stephen strange #peter parker #supreme family #iron dad #spider son #fic #tss #ambivalentmarvel #if you tag this st*rker you die by our blade

[thelovelyghostwriter]

KuraNeon Short Fic

Okay, this is one of my longer tumblr short fics, it’s 1000+ words. 

Rated M because of lemon. Pairing: Kurapika/Neon

This is not the full length of the fic, the full version will be completed and posted on AO3 when I have the time. 

Before anyone starts complaining about their age, Kurapika and Neon are born in the same year. In the current arc, Kurapika is technically 19 years old. I have had people complain about Neon being underaged (people deadass think she’s 12 to 16 tf), but then they go ahead and sexualise Kurapika because “he is an adult because he’s 19”. You can check it here. 

Anyway, it’s fiction. Don’t take it seriously. I will just block anyone who tries to start a drama over drawings and fanfics.   

Warning: sexual content, hate-sex, angry sex, angst, mentions of daddy issues

Here we go: 

Kurapika wanted to stop this... Whatever they were doing. Yet his reasoning flies out of the window whenever he sees Neon in a flattering night attire.

Here he was, shirtless, with the woman sitting on his lap. Her spaghetti-strapped blouse was pushed down, her breasts exposed to him.

"I told you not to tempt me," he said. He licked her nipple and bit it lightly. Neon let out a small groan.

Kurapika had attempted to tell her that this dirty affair they had was inappropriate and unbecoming of them. Yet, for the past week, Neon had been giving him subtle flirtations and wearing clothes that showed off her skin (as compared to the baggy ones she normally wears).

The last straw was her talking about his Scarlet Eyes... while fondling the chains on his hand.

No.

That had to stop. For one, she was teasing him. Secondly, she recently found out about his Kurta identity - she was pissing him off on purpose to get "punished".

That woman should know her place, objectifying his clan's eyes like that.

He placed small kisses on her neck, then back again to her breasts. She shivered - it felt good.

"Are you happy now? You spoiled girl," he muttered against her breath sternly. She yelped when he slapped her ass.

Huh? That's weird.

His hands got underneath her skirt. Fuck. This girl wasn't even wearing a pair of underwear. She really wanted to get hate-fucked. By him. Again.

His fingers found her sex, all dripping in her arousal for him.

"So good," she mewled. She quivered under his touch.

Of course, she was satisfied, but never happy. There was a difference.

He inserted another finger.

Neon had always been like him - an empty vessel. Perhaps, even lonelier than him.

"M-more!" she moaned, demanding to be satisfied.

"Always wanting to be pampered," he huffed. What a greedy girl.

A father who exploited her fortune-telling, for fame and power; in exchange, he'd buy her all the things she wanted. The endless indulgence of material goods that she filled her heart with, yet it can never be full.

Ever since the Lovely Ghostwriter was stolen from her, the one thing that made her useful to her father... It was gone.

"You can never be satisfied, Neon," he said.

"Yet, you still do this with me," she countered, playing with his blond hair. She gripped Kurapika's hair and looked at his now-reddened eyes. Those eyes were beautiful... that held so much wrath and danger.

She had loved them when they were on a set of casing...but to see them on a deranged man when he takes her... it was... strangely exciting.

Kurapika said nothing, only kissing her in response.

Shut the hell up - he thought. He didn't like when she played mind games while they were doing this.

The kiss tasted sweet - so much turmoil in him, that he wished that a kiss could wash it all away. Wash away all his painful memories.

She snaked her hand into his pants. He hissed at the contact. Fuck. He needed this.

She giggled at his reaction, seemingly pleased, but her eyes said otherwise. Her father no longer paid attention to her, and it was obvious that she was trying to replace this by letting her head bodyguard (who was the same age as her) fill her.

She inserted his penis into her, squealing. God, Kurapika disliked her high-pitched voice whenever she complained. Yet, the noise that she makes during sex was what rubbed his ego - pleading, squealing, mewling, moaning as he rammed into her.

He halted for a moment, to lay her back against the bed. Then slammed himself again. Neon screamed, then covered her mouth alarmingly. He was enraged, she could tell. She really got onto his nerves, with her callous comment.

That disgusting hobby of hers. Collecting dead body parts that reflected her lack of sympathy towards the dead. Again, to fill that empty husk of her beautiful body. To treat people like objects because people see her as a predictive tool. A mere object.

She was her father's cash cow, the mafioso's crystal ball, another name in Chrollo's book and now, Kurapika's personal sex doll.

He removed her mouth. He wanted to hear her. She bit her lip, attempting to be quiet as possible.

He knew this. He wrapped her arms around her lower back, giving a new angle to ride her further. She yelped, in both surprise and ecstasy.

"Slow... Down..." she pleaded, her fingernails digged his shoulders. He said nothing.

"Papa... Papa might - ah!- hear us," she reasoned to him.

But he did not listen.

"I think - ah fuck!- he already... He knows," he said.

It was an open secret around the Nostrade mansion. It was not far-fetched for the young pair, who were equally lonely, to get caught into some odd agreement. She did expect her father to have some sort of reaction, though?

Neon's eyes watered slightly. Whether it was due to her being upset with her father's nonchalance, or Kurapika's roughness - Kurapika was unsure.

Kurapika did help Light recover from their financial slump by redirecting their mafioso business into something else. Perhaps it was some sort of sick reward Kurapika has earned when he chose to help them.

He brushed away the mascara-stained tears from her face. "Stop crying," he commanded, and gave a deep thrust that caused her to yell.

He did know she was going through a tough issue. But it can never be compared to him, his loss. The eyes of his clan gouged out just for people like her to enjoy them as displays. He should be the one crying, but there were no more tears left for him to shed.

He then remembered her hobby - why he was here in the first place. He began to incorporate his resentful energy into the form of pulsating desire, pounding into her mercilessly.

"Give it to me..." she begged, holding him tightly while her toes curled.

Her whole body started to shake.

So close...

Just a little more...

Then he stopped.

Neon immediately glared at him. It was one of his punishments again. To give her all the pleasures into a peak then abruptly crashing it into such a non-climatic disaster.

He laid on her side, brushing her messy hair off her face. They were both sticky, perspiring from their intimacy.

"Don't cry," he comforted and kissed her forehead.

Or I will give you something real to cry about, flesh collector.

She nodded. "Good girl," he said. He stood up.

He gripped her thighs, dragging her until her lower body was out of the bed. "Turn around," he commanded, and she obeyed him.

"Wait..." she protested, looking back slightly, "I want to see your eyes while you-" He gripped her hair. The audacity of this girl to still treat his eyes like a commodity... but in her eyes, he is the same. Another man in her life that sees her as an instrument.

"No. Not tonight, Neon. Look in front," he instructed.

If I catch you looking back, you're going to get it - he thought while he inserted his dick inside her again.

"I- ah!" she heaved, "I - hah - hate you..."

She managed to blurt out. He frowned. He didn't like that, be it she truly meant it or it was out of not getting what she wanted.

Because he couldn't resent her. He disliked her attitude, sheltered personality, her hobby... and worst of all, how she makes him desire her.

But it was never hatred. That was a feeling meant for the Phantom Troupe. She wasn't special enough for that.

He found her clitoris and rubbed it, all swollen and wet from arousal.

He noticed how she opened her legs slightly further to give him better access. Such hatred, huh.

"Yet... You're here," he replied. All he got was a repetition of her breathless curses and whimpers.

“Just… mmph! Turn me around…” she mumbled in the midst of the coitus. 

“No-”

“P-please?”

No response. He only did her harder. 

“I’ll… do anything,” she said. She looked back, rebelling against his rule. She kissed him before he could scold her. Neon stared at the glowing eyes, completely bewitched by them. 

“Anything?” he questioned, and he withdrew himself out of her. 

“Yes, daddy, anything-” 

She pouted for an added-effect. She knew that was one of his weaknesses. Kurapika sighed. 

“Okay-”

It was going to be a long night: he wasn’t done with her yet.  

[A/N: I did not proofread this, so pardon the grammatical errors]

#kuraneon #kuraneo #kuraneon fic #kuraneo fic #kurapika x neon #kurapikaxneon #kurapika and neon #kurapika is drowning #kurapika is drowning in an indescribable emptiness #neon nostrade #kurapika

[sunflowerhae]

music sceneries I’ll never write

♡~•Rules•~♡

➮ Send an ask with the song title, and member! I put the member that I envisioned when I listened to the long, however if you want someone else (from NCT OT21) then you can just request it with them!

➮ ONLY REQUEST A SONG FROM THIS PLAYLIST! I thought that was obvious, but ig not! My bad 😔😔 this isn’t a “submit a song of choice” this is choose a song down below, and get the story I wrote abt it. Hope that makes sense idk

➮ please be aware that I might not get back to you immediately - however if you aren’t on anon, or tell me whatever blog you want me to tag (i understand - this is a side blog), then I’ll tag you in the post!

➮ Please do NOT request two songs together - one suggested per ask! You can ask for two songs at the same time, but they’ll be separate!

➮ also note that the genres in the song descriptions WILL be in the story, but if you really want a certain genre, just say it and I’ll make it both (ex/ if a story is listed as angst, but you want fluff, I’ll make it angst AND fluff)

➮ finally, these aren’t full length stories. They’re experts from the songs listed that I wanted to make full length stories for, but there’s so much that I know I wouldn’t be able to. Once I post the first one, you’ll get the format more 😊 anyway what I’m saying is don’t expect a 10k long fic!

★ - personal favorites. It also means I would hopefully like to keep the same member suggested - but you don’t need to!😊

♫ Somebody else

“I'm looking through you, while you're looking through your phone, and then leaving with somebody else”

Artist: The 1975

Genre: Angst

Suggested Member: Haechan

♫ my eyes adored you

“My eyes adored you - though I never laid a hand on you, my eyes adored you.”

Artist: Frankie Valli

Genre: Fluff

Suggested Member: Jisung

♫ she plays bass

“This chick, who plays bass. She plays bass, she plays bass. Nothing matters cause we’re both in space.”

Artist: beabadoobee

Genre: fluff, crack

Suggested Member: Jaehyun

♫ Life on Mars?

“-Wonder if he’ll ever know: he’s in the freakiest show. Is there Life on Mars?”

Artist: David Bowie

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Suggested Member: Jaemin

♫ We’re gonna be friends ★

“Climb the fence, books and pens - I can tell that we are gonna be friends. I can tell that we’re gonna be friends.”

Artist: The White Stripes

Genre: fluff

Suggested Member: Chenle

♫ Fine China

“I'm going down, now with all of my Fine china and fresh linen All of my dresses with them tags still on them”

Artist: Lana Del Rey

Genre: angst

Suggested Members: Jaemin or Jeno

♫ butterflies

“Now I remember what it feels like to fly - You give me butterflies”

Artist: Kacey Musgraves

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Suggested Member: Jeno

♫ yes to heaven

“Say yes to heaven, say yes to me.”

Artist: Lana Del Rey

Genre: Fluff, angst

Suggested Members: Jaemin, Haechan

♫ teenage fantasy ★

“We all want a teenage fantasy; want it when we can’t have it, when we got it we don’t seem to want it.”

Artist: Jorja Smith

Genre: angst, slight fluff, maybe smut

Suggested Member: Haechan

♫ with love, Vincent ★

Artist: Murray Gold, BBC National Orchestra of Wales

Genre: Fluff

Suggested Member: Jaemin

♫ anyone who knows what love is

“The world may think I’m foolish - they don’t see you like I can. Oh, but anyone who knows what love is will understand.”

Artist: Irma Thomas

Genre: Angst, slight fluff

Suggested Member: Haechan

♫ you were mine ★

“Sometimes I wake up crying at night, and sometimes I scream out your name. What right does she have to take you away, when for so long you were mine.”

Artist: The Chicks

Genre: Angst

Suggested Members: Taeyong, Mark

♫ make me your queen

“And I don’t mean shit, I know you’ve made that clear - cause I mean nothing to you, dear. So make me your queen.”

Artist: Declan McKenna

Genre: angst

Suggested Members: Renjun, Doyoung, Jaemin

♫ across the universe

“Words are flowing out, like endless rain into a paper cup - they slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe”

Artist: The Beatles

Genre: Fluff

Suggested Member: Jaemin

♫ Been it ★

“I’ve been your mother, I’ve been your father; who could ask me for me? I’ve been your sister, I’ve been your mistress - baby I was your whore.”

Artist: The Cardigans

Genre: Angst?, kinda of a breakup revenge story

Suggested Member: Haechan

♫ Back to December

“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night - and I go back to December all the time.”

Artist: Taylor Swift

Genre: Angst

Suggested Member: Renjun

♫ The story of us

“And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now.”

Artist: Taylor Swift

Genre: angst, fluff

Suggested Member: Mark

♫ Would that I

“With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat, settle soft and as pure as snow - I fell in love with the fire long ago”

Artist: Hozier

Genre: fluff

Suggested Member: Jaemin

♫ Satisfied

“He will never be satisfied, I will never be Satisfied.”

Artist: Renée Elise Goldsberry, Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton

Genre: Angst

Suggested Members: Kun, WinWin, Lucas (idk why I get huge wayv vibes)

♫ Terrance loves you

“But I lost myself, when I lost you.”

Artist: Lana Del Rey

Genre: Angst

Suggested Member: Yuta

♫ Honeymoon avenue

“I’m under pressure cause I can’t have you the way that I want, let’s just go back to the way it was - when we were on Honeymoon Avenue.”

Artist: Ariana Grande

Genre: Angst

Suggested Member: Renjun

♫ I don’t love you anymore

“I ain’t tryin to keep up, because, I don’t love you anymore.”

Artist: Tyler the Creator

Genre: Angst

♫ Soft universe

“Speak to me, speak to me, with love in your eyes.”

Artist: AURORA

Genre: Fluff

Suggested Members: Renjun, Taeil

♫ Traveling Soldier ★

“I cried, never gonna hold the hand of another guy. Too young for him, they told her - waiting for the love of a traveling soldier.”

Artist: The Chicks

Genre: Sligt fluff, Angst

Suggested member: Jeno

♫ Bang Bang - my baby shot me down ★

“bang bang - he shot me down. bang bang - I hit the ground. bang bang - that awful sound. bang bang - my baby shot me down.”

Artist: Nancy Sinatra

Genre: Angst, old movie style (you’ll see)

Member: Jaemin

♫ Past Life

“My lover, from a past life.”

Artist: Tame Impala

Genre: Angst, fluff, slice of life

suggested members: Jaemin, Jeno, Doyoung

♫ I’m apart of that

“I’m apart of that...aren’t I?”

Artist: Anna Kendrick

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Suggested Members: mark, taeyong

♫ Bombs on Monday Morning ★

“Bombs are falling on Monday Morning - waiting for the news together”

Artist: Melanie Martinez

Genre: angst

Member: Jaemin

♫ Daddy issues ★

“Go ahead and cry, little girl. Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you - I know that you got Daddy Issues.”

Artist: The Neighbourhood

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Member: Jeno (I’m not budging on this)

• Listen to all the music here! ⤦ ⤦

•Bombs on Monday Morning🏔 (not on Spotify) ⤦

• 👼🏻Yes to heaven👼🏻 (not on Spotify) ⤦

#mine #my works #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct fluff #nct angst #wayv #wayv fluff #wayv angst #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #wayc x reader #music #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #wayv smut #nct 127 angst #nct dream angt #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #asks #requests #nct imagines #wayv imagines

[mchalowitz]

the woman is the king, part three

summary: a throughline of the matriarchal scullys; be they ethereal, sharp-witted, and ill-omened.

i’m very excited to finally share this! definitely the most difficult part to write so far and i hope everyone enjoys it!

part 1: melissa / part 2: dana

part 3: emily

read on ao3

@today-in-fic

———

Two years on, sometimes Scully believes she will be able to survive without her other. A forgotten voice travels from immortal nirvana to her brother’s residential line. She wonders if what she tells herself is true. 

1994; the lost year that exists between them. On an evening in March, returning from a field assignment with Mulder, Melissa leaves a message on her answering machine that Scully can still easily recite. 

Things are too hard right now, Dana. I’m safe, I’m with friends in California. I’ll call soon. I love you.

Dana would never have been the golden child. No one surpasses a squid, especially not a fed with some shifty assignment. A shifty fed fares better than a filthy sinner. Charlie wears excommunication with unsweetened pride. And Melissa, the silly new ager, well, she could take no more.

No one thrives at the center of a Scully family scandal. Scully tries to create a rational narrative. It is 1994. Melissa is pregnant; she doesn’t want the baby. She knows plenty of people on the west coast. It was believable. 

Her beloved sister, Dana, is abducted, and in the four weeks she is missing, Melissa gives birth, and the baby is adopted. Dana resurfaces in a hospital; left practically for dead. Her sister returns to stand vigil at her bedside. 

It becomes a question of mindset. Maggie believes Melissa would have told her; Dana disagrees. Subversion of expectations was the ultimate sin for a Scully child as it was a denouncement of the parenting of William and Margaret. She can attest to her mother’s softening on certain expectations since the death of her father. She still disagrees. 

No time for sulking, only pushing through. Working the case through Christmas clearly infuriates Bill. He keeps it to hushed whispers and snide remarks out of Tara’s earshot. Scully often wonders how privy Tara is to anything going on in the Scully family. 

Her infertility stings when she looks at her sister-in-law. With her cancer now in remission, the other medicals horrors Scully faced start coming back to the surface. It is another slap; the thought that her sister gave away such a sweet little girl while she will never carry a child. 

Scully is a mother. She struggles to quantify what Emily is. 

Emily, a living and breathing child, with the face of a Scully, is a violation of her body that someone stole from her, and yet must be fiercely protected. Perhaps Emily is the missing piece. 

Scully hurriedly fills out the application for temporary custody. It consists of the normal, straightforward questions found on any application, until her hand is hovering over that box. Single or married. 

The only thing happening in sunny San Diego is a completely mundane family Christmas, as far as Mulder is aware. Her words froze during her singular phone call. It seems like reaching out now is more of a bombardment than a simple debrief.

Scully is not in a position to presuppose the enigmatic thoughts of Fox Mulder. Yes, it was by his own volition to marry her and she can even believe that Mulder does love her. It is a mutual respect and a fond devotion. It is not spousal love; not a man that loves his wife. 

If she checks the box, Mulder would have to be a father figure to Emily, and it is not her place to make that decision for him. Their marriage was playing house because she was destined to die and Emily does not deserve to be a flour-sack baby in their labyrinthian game. 

Her pen swipes across the paper. Single. 

--

Mulder starts with M. Mmm. Emily tells him so.

Emily leaves the crayons and paper to go to the bookshelf. Mulder is sitting in the chair by the window and she gives him the book. She points to the yellow bird on the cover.

“What’s his name?”

“I think that’s Big Bird,” Mulder tells her. 

Her Daddy only reads her one book at a time, Mulder reads her three. She goes to the bookshelf for more when Dana comes up close to her. “Emily, Mulder and I have to leave now, but we’ll come back tomorrow.” 

Emily looks at Mulder, holding the book, and he says, “I bet you can find a good spot to keep it safe.” 

She nods and sets the book against the bed, fixing it when it slides down. Dana and Mulder leave. A lady makes her pick up her crayons before dinner.

“I’m tired,” she insists, holding the lady’s hand on the way to eat. 

“First dinner, then bed, Emily.”

--

A duality develops in relation to another atrocity to her body. It is a swift punch to the throat; knocking the breath so deeply out of her lungs. It is also as mundane as adding milk to the shopping list; it is only another thing. 

Her brother’s phone line carries mysteries from one location to another. Landline abandoned, traveling well above the speed limit, Mulder drives toward the children’s home. 

“I could have handled it,” she asserts simply. 

“I know.”

Mulder, with his complexity of a hero, and innate ability to act so hoggish. Scully wonders if he really believes that. 

--

Her blanket at home is pink sparkles and has Barbie on the pillows. Emily doesn’t like her new blanket nearly as much. It’s just plain pink.

The lady from dinner tucks her in. “I met Mr. Potato Head,” Emily informs her. 

Emily doesn’t like the other kids in the new place, especially the boy that calls, “That’s not true! Mr. Potato Head isn’t real.” 

“Yes, he is!” she argues. She struggles to sit up with the blanket holding her back. “I met him and he looks like this!” She puffs out her cheeks, making the same face. 

“That must have been very exciting, Emily,” the lady adds softly, tucking her in again. 

The lights turn off. Emily closes her eyes. She feels cold. 

--

In the work Mulder does with Scully, it is often based more on speculation than he would ever like to admit to anyone. It disgusts him to know that if Emily were any other file in his cabinet, it would bring him joy to map out theories and spar with his partner over them. With the empty coffin staring back at them, Mulder can easily assume a thought is something neither of them want to enter their minds ever again. No hypothesizing to be done here. 

Following the funeral, the San Diego bureau fares slightly kinder than their city’s court system. Their California contact, while deeply apologetic for the tragedy that has occurred here, informs them the field office won’t be actively pursuing the case. Aside from following up on a few leads pertaining to the deaths of Roberta and Marshall Sim, it will likely be deemed a cold case. 

“I’m very sorry, Agent Scully,” the agent says, padding his final blow. Emily’s case will not be investigated either. Both Mulder and Scully understand the algorithm that goes into the decision of pursuing an investigation. If the case fell into the FBI mainstream, Emily’s chronic health issues, use of experimental treatments, and her parents’ full cognizance to the risks wouldn’t stand a chance against the process. 

And if there was anything to investigate, it has already been destroyed by powers far outside the reach of some dinky field office anyway. Whatever the reasoning may be, another Scully woman is still failed by the United States government. 

Scully wants the first flight out of San Diego back to Washington and he is more than quick to oblige her. While she very clearly loves the new addition to her family, the sting is just as obvious. 

Two hours down in the air, three more to go, and they have barely said a word to each other since take-off. Scully’s head is turned toward the window when he reaches for her hand. “Scully,” he speaks, very quietly. 

“No,” she responds with a shake of her head, her voice tight. 

Another long stretch of silence and Mulder thinks she maybe falls asleep, which would be a welcome cause for silence, because he isn’t convinced she’s slept more than an hour or two in days. He is about to request a blanket when her forehead presses into his shoulder and the contact reveals her body shaking with the exertion of holding everything inside yet again. 

It’s his fierce need to protect her always that causes him to envelope her body with his. Her arms wind tightly around his neck. Her attempts to muffle her sobs in his jacket is only partially successful. 

A flight attendant taps him on the shoulder and asks him, “Is everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine,” Mulder blatantly lies. “But maybe we could get a glass of water for my wife.” 

It's a rare euphoria to speak those words; his wife. Dana Scully is his wife. A mostly unmentioned fact that gives him a childishly nervous feeling in his stomach. While it never retreated in his mind, it appears to be returning to the forefront of hers. 

In the winding process of applying for custody, a second application exists. Scully’s final plea to unite her with her own flesh and blood. Another document that states definitively that they are married. Mulder underwent a grilling from the judge; a practical bullying on the semantics of their marriage. 

One’s subconscious works powerfully, in his experience, and when he sat in this same position on Scully’s couch six months ago, the answer came to him so clearly. It wasn’t only for her benefit as a life experience that everyone should have the opportunity to have if they so choose; cancer only sped up the timeline of an inevitably. Mulder has never taken a mightier leap with her and she accepted. A singular score for Fox Mulder. 

It’s treated as though it never even existed; his presence in that way completely reverted. He wishes he had more of a chance to prove himself worthy. He wishes he was a less of pussy to actually do it. He will, he’s going to. If she is ever willing to forgive him for all of his transgressions. 

Mulder carried the knowledge of her ova and of what was likely (and now, very clearly) done with it with a heaviness that rivaled the many other weights he lugs around inside him. Scully’s hope for recovery was dwindling then and it was only another way to hurt her. 

It felt criminal to hijack her happiness when she went into remission and her bliss honestly fed his soul. Now, he only piles onto her pain. And if he was any kind of man, if he was someone deserving of someday being a person she would maybe, eventually, love for real, he would have been a lot fucking better. 

The flight attendant delivers a glass of water and a box of tissues on a plastic tray. He takes both and offers the glass to Scully. She scoots forward to the edge of her seat, her back straightened, and it reminds him of Bellefleur, and of that young agent in her red robe, and the fear of simple bug bites. It was the moment of cosmiticity bursting into existence between them. 

Scully sips water, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. His eyes never leave her for the rest of the flight. He drives her home under the glow of streetlights. 

“I can keep you company, if you want,” he offers after insisting he carry her suitcase inside for her. “Might even be able to catch a replay of the Rose Bowl if we’re lucky.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she replies. One hand holds the door and the other is braced on the frame; a universal sign to get lost told through her body language. “I’m going to take a few days. I already let Skinner know.” 

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “Goodnight, Mulder.” 

“Goodnight, Scully.” 

Once the door is shut, he hears the lock click into place. It pains him to walk away. 

Mulder calls Scully in the morning as promised. He calls every morning after. It just rings and rings. 

--

No one is expecting her back in the office until Monday, but by Thursday it becomes increasingly clear that a return to normalcy is what she requires. Scully can only stare at California girls immortalized by ages in threes on her mantel for so long. 

She trades in her bathrobe for a beige skirt with matching jacket and she slugs down the last of a cup of coffee while she packs her briefcase. The landline rings in its cradle next to her hand. Her stockinged feet slide against the kitchen tile as she turns to answer.

“Hello?”

An unfamiliar female voice carries cheerily into her ear. “Hi there, this is Amanda over at Liberty Fertility Center. I’m looking for Fox Mulder?” 

"This is...” Scully starts, and then she pauses, staring up at the ceiling before answering with a restrained sigh. “This is his wife.” 

“I’m following up on a call we received from your husband earlier this week about a sample being stored at our facility and possible ova analysis. He left this as the call back number.” 

Scully clicks her tongue against her teeth, nodding slowly. She barely focuses on the conversation and when it ends, she retrieves the phone book, slamming it down on the table in place of her briefcase. She dials the first promising number in the correct category. 

Heat overtakes her melancholy. Scully is so, so tired of Mulder blanketing his wrongdoings under the guise of protecting her. It has always, ultimately, been her choice to walk alongside him; it was his choice to marry her. He still fills their partnership, their marriage, with secrets. He still withholds. 

She can only imagine what is being done to her ova sitting in some facility.  Mulder didn’t even have the decency to tell her any even remained.

Scully arrives at the office on Friday and Mulder is immersed in a sea of paperwork and photographs. It is only eight in the morning and he already has his jacket slung over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up over his forearms. 

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you until Monday,” he grins with surprised delight. 

Mulder follows her with his eyes as she steps up to his desk. She leans down, kissing him soundly on the mouth, and she observes his dreamy stare when they part.

“I need my ova, Mulder,” she states. Scully pulls a business card out of her pocket; the law firm she called the morning before. “And I want a divorce.” 

#x files #xf fic #dana scully #fox mulder #emily sim #msr #this is straight up probably the worst time of day to post lol

[writeyouin]

Hey there, wanted to know if I could get  some scenarios of how ratchet, ravage, swerve, and cygate would handle if their human s/o  found an abandoned baby and was instantly overcome with motherly instincts. Mama bear mode activated

Transformers MTMTE-LL Reader Insert Drabbles - Baby

A/N – All baby girls in the fic today cos I’m biased.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Ratchet

Ratchet stared at you and the small child swaddled in your arms. He had felt bad when he had to work again instead of joining you on the visit to the space port. Now, he regretted not going, because he would have handed the child over to the authorities instead of bringing it aboard like it was his own sparkling.

“(Y/N), please tell me that you aren’t planning to keep this child. What about the original owners?”

“The parents,” You emphasized the word as if it burned your tongue, “abandoned this baby in an alley, with a note, claiming anyone could take her. I mean, who does that? So now, I’m going to be her parent, aren’t I Evie?” You addressed the child. “Yes, I am and I won’t ever abandon you, will I?”

Ratchet glared at you, trying to keep his voice low when he spoke so as not to scare the child. “(Y/N), we cannot keep her. You have to take her back. This is no place for a baby.”

“And why not? She’s not going to cause any trouble here Ratchet, and she needs a family.”

“Of course she needs a family, but it’s not going to be us.”

“Don’t you want to start a family with me?”

“No,” Ratchet hissed. “(Y/N), you are my Conjunx and you had better understand me here. This is not our child. She will never be our child. This was somebody else’s and we will take her back.”

“Ratchet, if you think that I am ever leaving this baby-”

“THIS WON’T MAKE UP FOR THE ONE WE LOST!”

At that point the baby in your arms started crying and you turned all your attention to calming her, “Shh, shh, oh, it’s okay Evie. Your daddy is just working through some issues, he didn’t mean to shout. There, there.”

“I am not her father.”

“Ratchet,” Your stare bore into him, “We are married and this is my child now. You either get on board with this or we are going to have a serious discussion about our future. Now, I would storm out, but Evie needs a health check, so once you’ve given her the all clear, then I will leave.”

No more was said over the matter. Ratchet still didn’t want the child and clearly, he would have to convince you that keeping her was the worst idea for the two of you. The last baby, an accidental clone of you from one of the younger scientists, had been another surprise that Ratchet hadn’t wanted. He hadn’t said so at the time as he could see how you would feel responsible for that one; all the same, while he had never wanted to be a father, he also never wanted the child to die in that unspeakable accident. The Lost Light was no place for a child, and Ratchet hoped he could make you see that before you got hurt again.

After Ratchet had given the baby a thorough medical check, finding that she was perfectly healthy, he started up the argument with you again. It didn’t matter what he said, you simply weren’t listening.

Finally, after a full-on shouting match in which Ratchet regretted most of what he said, he roared at you to get out. It seemed that he would be in no mood to go back to your shared hab-suite for a while, at least until you came to your senses.

While Ratchet expected you to give in, and realise he was right, you waited for him to do the same. Days turned into weeks and Ratchet still hadn’t returned to the hab-suite, nor you to the medical bay.

Although Ratchet didn’t venture out from the med-bay, he heard stories from the bots that came in about how Evie had become something of a ship-mascot and treasure. Every-time she so much as waved her arms or gurgled a spit bubble, Rodimus added another cuddly Rodimus star to her collection.

Even knowing of the rift between the two of you, most bots tried to bring Ratchet around to their way of thinking by pretending they didn’t know about the fight and saying, “You must be one proud bot, having a sparkling so great,” upon finishing their medical evaluations.

Finally, Ratchet couldn’t take it anymore. His spark ached from yearning and sadness and yet he felt in his mind he was right, and no matter what, he would not be a parent. He stomped his way through the ship to the hab-suite he hadn’t seen since the fight. Ready to argue his point further, he stepped inside, instantly deflating at the sight that met him.

You were asleep on the berth, with Evie sleeping atop your chest; the two of you clearly exhausted from the day’s activities. Ratchet sat down in a nearby chair, watching the two of you. He had no idea how much a baby could grow in a month, and yet here it was in front of him.

Staying there for a while, seeing how peaceful the two of you were, Ratchet sighed.

‘Primus,’ He thought, ‘I’m not a praying mech, but… I hope I’m a better creator than my mine was. I’ll need to be here for this child… For Evie.’

Indeed, he hadn’t ever wanted to be a parent, but if Ratchet could be better than those who raised him, then maybe everything would be alright.

Ravage

Ravage sniffed the tiny fledgling in the basket in which you had found it and brought it aboard.

“What is it?” He asked, his tail lashing in frustration as the creature reached out its tiny fists to touch him.

“She is a human, like me,” You answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ravage didn’t like that tone, nor did he like your infatuation with the small human; you hadn’t taken your eyes off it since bringing it aboard.

“Is it deformed?”

That earned him a glare from you, “No.”

He glanced at you then back to her, realisation finally drawing on him, “Oh, so it’s a Minibot then. Smaller and weaker… What happened to its vocaliser? Why doesn’t it say something?”

You supressed a smile at Ravage’s unwitting ignorance, “Ravage, this isn’t a Minibot. This is a baby, you know, like a sparkling?”

“This is how you start off? No wonder you need me to protect you all the time.”

“Keep talking like that, see where it gets you in this relationship.”

Ravage hissed, making the baby cry with the sound.

“Ravage, you can’t make noises like that around the baby, you’re scaring her.”

Ravage glared at you as you picked the tiny human up, swaddling her in a blanket and soothing her. He hated not being the centre of attention where you were concerned.

“Fine,” He spat, keeping the growl out of his voice, “Tell me everything about your new toy so I won’t accidentally break it.”

It had taken some time for Ravage to understand everything to do with the human sparkling but he finally felt that he could take care of it, if he so wished.

While you were occupied, Ravage strutted into your room carrying a sandwich in his mouth. The baby was lying on its back in the playpen you had commissioned from one of the other bots obsessed with the fleshling. You had named her Danica after the first female NASCAR driver, but Ravage much preferred to call the creature ‘Spawn of Unicron.’

Perching on the playpen rail, Ravage dropped the sandwich onto the baby’s chest.

“Eat, you little retch,” Ravage growled. “I said eat. Then you will grow and (Y/N) will be all mine again.”

The baby giggled and waved her arms.

“You milky little let-down. My hunting skill was perfect. I stole that sandwich from (Y/N) herself. Now eat it.”

Danica gurgled, sticking her fist in her mouth.

“Well,” Ravage sneered, “At least you can clean yourself without help… Wait, what is that? Is that drool? Disgusting. Ugh fine, watch me.”

Ravage started cleaning himself gracefully, watching to see if the baby would do the same. When it did not, he simply rolled his eyes; clearly the child couldn’t do anything for itself.

“You’re not really a threat, are you. Fine (Y/N) can love you and I suppose I will do my part in protecting you. Do we have an agreement, spawn of Unicron?”

Danica started blowing spit-bubbles, entertaining herself in her own manner. Ravage merely scoffed and laid down outside the playpen; until the child learned to stop drooling, there was no way he would get any closer to her.

Swerve

“Let’s keep her,” You said, upon finding the abandoned child in the alley.

“What?” Swerve sputtered, gobsmacked by your suggestion.

“Why not?” You asked, picking the child up and checking her temperature. “We were talking about trying soon, so… Well, we can’t leave her here, and this planet doesn’t have a whole lot of humans and, Swerve, I just-” You looked at him for the first time since finding the baby, “I can’t leave her.”

“Will she- I mean- What should we call her? How long will it take her to walk? Do you think we should make Skids the Godfather? Primus, who will be Godmother? What items does she need? Don’t tell the others that, only me. I’m her dad now so I want to make the furniture? Scrap, where do we get baby formula? Argh, I just swore in front of our child.”

From that very rant, you knew Swerve was going to be a great father.

“Okay… Can you think of anything else we need to babyproof?” Swerve asked, looking at the new layout of the hab-suite.

“Nope, we crushed it,” You answered happily.

“You hear that, Nova? This is your new home.” Swerve picked up the baby from the sock drawer you were keeping her in until the cot was ready. Upon being disturbed Nova started crying. “Oh no, don’t cry. I’m sorry. (Y/N), what do I do?”

“It’s okay Swerve, just keep calm and rock her gently. She’s probably just over-tired.”

“(Y/N), please take her. I need to see how this works.”

Swerve handed you the baby, watching closely to learn how to handle her.

“Alright, so this is how you calm her,” You said, using the techniques you had picked up on Earth whenever a family member or friend asked you to babysit. Eventually, Nova stopped crying and you smiled, “See, it’s just a matter of practice.”

“Oh… Okay. Yeah, I can do this. Hey, will she be needing her crib now?”

“Yeah, as soon as we can get that and the other stuff, we’ll be all set.”

“Great, then I’ll be just a few minutes. I built them earlier, so it’s just a matter of collection.”

Swerve hurriedly left and you smiled to yourself, “See that, Nova? Your daddy is having a freak out. Come on, we’ll start walking to the labs. By the time we get there on our tiny legs, he should have calmed down.”

Swerve vented air through his system, trying to cool down. He wondered how he could be a good parent if he didn’t even know how to calm his new child down. Primus, he would be terrible at this. How long would it be before you realised that he was no good for you and Nova before you left him? He bet it wouldn’t be long at all. After all, humans were so different than Cybertronians; he couldn’t possibly be any good for a human baby.

Swerve slumped against the lab walls, looking at all he had built for the child. All the designs had come from the Earth’s internet, but he had painted them with things from both your planet and his. Looking at his work, Swerve thought of all the pros and cons of him being the child’s adoptive parent; that imaginary list held a lot of cons.

Eventually, the door swished open and Swerve busied himself, pretending to check over the items.

“Hey sweetie,” You greeted upon entering the room. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Swerve laughed anxiously, “I’m doing great. Life couldn’t be better. I’m just late back because I was looking at this crib and I was wondering, does it look rickety to you, because to me it looks rickety, so what do you think?”

“I think you’re freaking out.”

Swerve stared at you, ashamed that you had seen right through him. “I’m sorry. I just- I love Nova and I want to be a good parent, but what if I’m not? What if I screw up and she grows up to hate me? I’ve never been a parent and I’m scared. There’s so much that could go wrong.”

“Swerve, it’ okay to be scared. I’m scared too. This is hardly a normal place to raise a child. Anything could happen, but as long as we have each other, I know we’ll do great. All we can do is love Nova and show her that every day. If we do that, we’ll do great. So, do you want to come back to the suite and help set up the nursery?”

Swerve pulled you into a hug, being careful not to disturb Nova. “Let’s take our baby home,” He whispered.

You kissed his cheek, “That’s my Conjunx.”

Cygate

“So, what do you think?” You asked Tailgate and Cyclonus, having explained to them how you had come by a human baby. There was only one acceptable answer from the pair, but you hoped they wouldn’t make you choose between them and your new daughter.

Tailgate’s frame started shaking with excitement, and Cyclonus had to hold him back before he tackled you and the child in a hug.

“Careful,” Cyclonus warned. “The baby is more delicate than even (Y/N).”

Tailgate tried to take the warning into consideration, remembering when you had agreed to a polyamorous relationship with him and Cyclonus; he had hugged you so hard that it broke your arm and three ribs. Although he always tried to be more careful now, he still found it hard to restrain himself sometimes.

“WHAT DO WE THINK?” Tailgate exclaimed. “THIS IS AMAZING. YOU HAVE A SPARKLING- NO, WE HAVE A SPARKLING. Oh, boy, oh boy, oh boy. I can’t wait to teach her to play catch. And we can watch shows together and read to her, and Cyclonus can teach her to sing. WE ARE GONNA BE THE BEST CREATORS IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE UNIVERSE.”

You had to laugh at Tailgate’s enthusiasm, but you didn’t let it escape your attention that Cyclonus had yet to say how he felt.

“We can keep her, right Cyclonus?” Tailgate asked what you had been too afraid to.

Cyclonus looked at you and Tailgate. You were the only two people he had ever loved in all of his long life, and it had taken a long time for him to open his spark to you and let himself be vulnerable. Did he really have room in his spark for a third person? It seemed that you and Tailgate were full of nothing but love, but Cyclonus knew he wasn’t like that, and knowing so scared him.

He looked at the sleeping child nestled in your arms. She was so tiny. Delicate features graced her face, and such a young being could only be innocent and pure. Cyclonus was neither innocent or pure. He had a dark past which he would always be haunted by. While it was true that you and Tailgate had helped to heal his inner scars, he knew they could so easily be reopened if he wasn’t careful.

Did such a precious child really deserve such a bad role model? Cyclonus wasn’t sure of the answer to that. Perhaps he would be a terrible creator and only serve to dampen the baby’s future, but maybe, just maybe, he could heal even further with her to care for.

Swallowing his fear, Cyclonus looked at you and Tailgate, and with some effort he said, “She needs a name.”

Tailgate punched the air, crushing Cyclonus in a hug afterwards, “YESSS. WHAT ABOUT AUTOCLAVE, OR CAMBER, OOH CHICANE- NO, RUMBLESTRIP.”

“How about a name from Earth?” Cyclonus suggested, looking to you for an answer.

You considered the question for a moment, knowing full well that Cyclonus didn’t want a Cybertronian name that might remind him of his past. “Okay, what about… Penelope?”

“Penelope…” Tailgate sounded out the word in his vocaliser.

“Yeah, she’s blonde like Penelope Pitstop and one day, she’ll be one hell of a driver.”

“I don’t know who this Pitstop person is, but I like the sound of Penelope. What do you think Cyclonus?”

Cyclonus gave a small smile, “I think she’s perfect.”

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#transformers #transformers idw #idw #maccadam #tf #the lost light #lost light #mtmte #more than meets the eye #ll #ratchet #ravage #swerve #cyclonus #tailgate #cygate #ratchet x reader #ravage x reader #swerve x reader #cyclonus x reader #tailgate x reader #cygate x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #reader insert #baby #Anonymous

[yandere-daydreams]

Since requests are open... Awhile back you answered an ask about elected Class Darlings. So could you actually write something for the reader being the Class Darling of Class 1A? And the reader just being so unimpressed by the whole thing.

I’ll never try to write for so many characters at one time again,,, there’s a reason I stick to bottle fics. And for anyone who doesn’t know, this is a little something for the Yandere-verse, where Yanderes make up the majority of the population, and normal people are referred to as ‘Darlings’. Protective, Possessive, Obsessive, etc., are all categories Yanderes are sorted into, depending on their alignment.

TW: De-Humanization and Mentions of Past Abuse, Both Subtle. 

You always felt like you were on display, at times like this.

Sitting on the teacher’s desk at the end of class (Katsuki and Iida would throw a fit if you stood for too long), the other Darlings having already been released back to their dorms, even if a good handful of them waited simply waited outside for their Yanderes. It used to bother you, being in a room alone with more than a dozen violent, trained psychopaths, but after months of simply tolerating the downsides that came with your… position, you’d learned to tolerate the way to their eyes lingered on all the wrong spots, burning holes into your uniform, trying to see which of their classmates had touched you that day.

Who’d they have to target during the next week’s training.

Aizawa’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, low and bored, as tired of this weekly ritual as you were. It was only fair, in his defense. He’d been the Class Darling god knows how many times, something you still overheard the other teachers teasing him for. “Alright, everyone,” He started, already fiddling with his Capture Weapon. “Who’s taking care of (Y/n) over the weekend?”

“Uhm, if I could pick…” Your voice was soft, weaker than you would’ve liked. But, your gaze drifted to Kirishima, the boy perking up like a puppy about to be given a treat. You never liked that, how desperate he seemed to be for your attention. Unfortunately, he was the only one you could really trust enough so sleep next to. “I think I’d like to go with-”

“Todoroki and I can do it!” Izuku interrupted, a giddy, toothy smile plastered across his face. His chair scraped against the floor as he stood up, probably more eager than he should be, sparks of green electricity already buzzing around him, his desk cracking beneath his hands. You flinched back out of reflex, but if Izuku noticed, he didn’t care, addressing Aizawa rather than you. It was something you were used to, but that certainly didn’t mean you enjoyed it. “Please, please? He hasn’t done anything… possessive-y in weeks, and we just got a new pair of handcuffs. They’re quirk-canceling and everything!” He paused, taking a deep breath, looking back to Shoto for encouragement. The boy in question smiled gently, nodding as he rested his chin on his fist, Izuku’s grin only growing wider. “It’ll be really good for us, I prom-”

Before he could finish, an empty soda-can hit Izuku’s forehead, Katsuki throwing the trash over his shoulder as soon as he grew tired of letting his ‘rival’ ramble. “It’s obvious that, if (Y/n)’s spending the weekend with anyone, it’s not going to be any of you dumbasses.” Izuku opened his mouth again, still standing awkwardly, but Katsuki didn’t bother hearing him out, just resting his feet on the desk in front of him as he continued. “We have a test on Monday, and I know none of you fuckers are going to prepare. Besides, isn’t Daddy-Issues over there the reason we don’t have weekly rotations, anymore?”

You cringed, the hand-shaped burn on your back seeming to ache at the slightest mention of Shoto’s ‘incident’. “It was an accident! My room gets really dark, sometimes.”

“Don’t defend him, sweetheart, brutality should be beneath all of us.” It was Momo’s turn now, always so sweet until she didn’t think her lovely, precious pet would fall into her arms. “And, that sounds awfully protective of you, Katsuki. Is there something you want to admit, while we’re all here?”

He let out a growl, finally turning in his seat, clenching his fists, loud cracks and pops echoing throughout the room. “I keep telling you, I’m Possessive and you fucking know it-”

“Don’t you already have Jirou?” Shoto asked, the genuine curiosity in his voice almost catching you off guard. Momo pursed her lips, looking down, searching for an excuse as she picked up where Shoto left off. “I mean, yes, but she needs someone to play with while I’m studying.”

“No, you don’t have Jirou,” Kaminari corrected, making this the first time he’d spoken-up during one of these little ‘sessions’. He threw his hands up, clearly frustrated, as he always was when these ‘class-debates’ took longer than a few minutes. “Me and her are dating, so I don’t see why I should have to sit through this. I’m not some creep who thinks acting like I’m in a relationship will actually make someone love me, which is why I'm the only one here in a mutual relationship.”

At this, everyone paused, the Delusional huffing, smoldering in his seat for a moment before he stormed out of the room with a soft ‘fuck this’. Aizawa was the first to react, pushing himself away from the wall as he came to stand beside you, if only to regain some semblance of order in his classroom. He sent you a sympathetic look, but any kind words lost among the bickering and arguments of his students.

Briefly, you dreaded the grudge that would undoubtedly last until Monday’s class. Then, you remembered you weren’t allowed to do anything too difficult, anymore. 

“Someone step up and give me a good reason, now,” He called, his tone authoritative enough to make you shrink into yourself. “Before I pick a neglectful bastard to expel. You should count yourselves lucky I haven’t made you fight for the Class Darleing, yet.”

Again, arguments were raised, some getting out of their seats only to be stopped by their more level-headed peers, forcing you to flinch a little more with every hostile word, every glare, every shove. In the commotion, no one (save for Aizawa and yourself) noticed when the classroom’s door opened, pink hair and a bright smile peaking into the room, waving to you before pouting at Aizawa, the man relenting as you practically sprinted towards Mina. She was always tricky, like that, leaving a few minutes before class ended, waiting for things to boil over and coming to save you, like your knight in a mini-skirt and hot-pink lipstick.

You took her hand just as the other’s began to realize what was going on, letting her tug you out of the room, kissing your cheek while the two of you began to jog down the halls, attempting to get back to the dorm rooms before someone had a chance to protest. Of course, you weren’t dumb. You caught that familiar, jealous glint in her eye, the way she seemed to take so much joy in your immediate submission, how the acid lingering on her palms stung at your skin to harshly to be subconscious, but… you were well acquainted with pros and cons, at this point.

And Mina was the lesser of many, many evils.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #yandere love #yandere scenerio #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere-verse #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #yandere boku no hero academia imagines #yandere boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #yandere my hero academia imagines #yandere my hero academia #bnha imagines #yandere bnha imagines #yandere bnha #yandere todoroki #yandere todoroki x reader #momo x reader #yandere momo x reader #yandere momo #yandere izuku #yandere deku #yandere midoriya #yandere mina

[an-absolute-travesty]

Royal Screw-Ups

(it’s a bit of a different format for chapter 3 but I hope you’ll like it! I don’t know if I ever posted chapter 2 here so I’m posting it now along with chapter 3 but you can also find it and the rest of this story on my Wattpad @ohwowhatethis. Also, you can find chapter 1 under the tags “kotlc fic” and “keefex” on my blog if you haven’t read that one)

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or taken off as a whole or for this fic specifically): @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlykeefitz @percybetn  @holesinmyfalseconfidence @vibing-in-the-void @sewersewersewercouch

Chapter 2/3:

Word count: 2,285 combined

Warnings: relatively mild swearing

Ch. 2:

“Keefe?”

“Yes Miss Oralie?”

“Is there any particular reason that you have dirt smudged all over your tunic?”

“Why Mademoiselle Oralie, I’m sure I simply have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He didn’t want Oralie to know that he had been outside. He had a schedule and he wasn’t allowed to stray from it. It was easier to play dumb than to say ‘actually Oralie, funny story. I completely disregarded my father’s, the kings, orders! Which is basically treason if you really want to stretch it, and dear old daddy always does!’

A gentle rapping came at the door and Oralie opened it. 

“The king has asked to see the prince...again.”

Oralie looked at Keefe.

“Give us one moment, sir.”

After she closed the door she turned back towards Keefe.

“Keefe…”

“Neiti Oralie, there’s nothing to-”

Oralie led him over to a chair in the small class room and sat him down before crouching in front of him. 

“I know that your father isn’t the kindest person in the world-”

“You can say that again.”

“But, you have to respect him. If nothing else at least don’t run away when he calls for you” She took a pointed glance down at his tunic. “Or go outside when you’re not meant to. You turn 16 in 4 months and then you’ll be the one to take over the country. You must be responsible.”

“I’m too young to rule, my father is in perfect health and so is my mother. There’s no point.”

“Keefe, your father has ruled Eternalia for 200 years. We need a new, responsible, leader. That leader is you and the responsibility starts with going to talk to your father. Now, what are you going to go do when you leave this room?”

“I’m guessing that run away into the gardens isn’t the right answer.”

Oralie gave a small laugh.

“No, it’s not.” She stood up from her crouch and Keefe followed as she walked to the door. “Go on now, you know what you need to do.”

Keefe walked out the door and almost considered running right back to Dex’s house, but he decided to put up with his father just this once. 

He dragged his feet as he walked to the King’s study at the end of the hall. He knocked gently, honestly hoping it would be so quiet his father wouldn’t hear it.

A sharp voice came from inside, “The door is unlocked.”

As Keefe walked into the large, almost disturbingly pristine, room, his dad gestured for him to sit without even a glance up.

“I have some great news, Keefe.” He said it without the slightest trace of a smile on his face.

“You’re moving to Ravagog?”

“No.” He snarled. “I’ve found you a wife, as you didn’t seem to want to choose one, yourself.”

Keefe stood and slammed his hands down on the table. “But you only gave me a month! Please, Dad, just give me one more I promise I’ll find one myself-”

“No!” His father stood up to match him. “I gave you all the time you needed and my word is final.”

He slowly sat down and smoothed his hair, even though there wasn’t even one hair out of place.

“Her name is Sophie Foster, she has a slightly complicated past but what matters is that she’s a noble by blood, if not by name.”

Keefe sat down, defeated. “What’s she like?”

“Pretty enough, you’ll have good children.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“You’ll meet her in 2 weeks. Now, get out of my sight.”

Keefe walked out and slammed the door behind him, hoping that just maybe something fell off his stupidly perfect desk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ch. 3

Keefe flopped down on his bed face-first. It had been 3 days since he was told who his wife would be and he wasn’t any happier about it.

Maybe he just needed a walk, some fresh air would clear his head. Maybe help him understand why he had to have a wife rather than a husband.

Walking through the grounds, he found himself slowly drifting towards the servants homes. He wasn’t even supposed to be outside right now, much less hanging out with servants.

But he couldn’t stop himself. Soon enough he was standing outside Dex’s door. 

With a look in the window (well, actually it was more like a hole in the wall but Keefe wasn’t one to judge) he saw the family sleeping on their beds. The whole house was about the size of his bedroom. 

Suddenly, one of the figures got out of bed. The familiar red-headed boy shuffled to the small bucket of water in the corner and took a sip from a tin cup. 

Keefe knocked on the window gently.

Dex turned, confused, and his eyes went wide at the sight of the prince. 

Keefe waved with a wide smile on his face. Dex furrowed his brow and shook his head in a ‘what the hell are you doing outside my house at midnight?’ kind of way. 

Keefe motioned him outside and he hesitantly creeped towards the door and walked outside. 

“What the hell are you doing outside my house at midnight?”

“Couldn’t sleep, you’re the only person I thought might let me bother them.”

Dex sighed. “Yeah, ok, you’re right.”

Keefe beamed. “Fantastic, in that case, follow me.”

After around 5 minutes of walking in awkward silence, Dex’s voice filled the void.

“So...where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, I think you’ll like it.”

As they turned a corner, there stood two guards talking by the castle wall. Keefe quickly grabbed Dex’s arm and pulled him back so they guards wouldn’t see them.

Even though it wasn’t his intention, the contact revealed his emotions to Keefe. 

Flustered, a touch embarrassed, and mostly anxious. 

No, don’t get hopeful. It was probably just a weird fluke.

Another peer around the corner revealed that the guards were now walking off to complete their rounds. Keefe ran ahead and waved Dex forward. 

Dex panted as he ran along beside him. 

“Why are we running?”

“The last guards just got done with that part of their round. That means the next set of guards are coming soon.”

After only a minute more of running Keefe saw what they were looking for.

“There it is!”

~*~

Dex rolled out of bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. It was the middle of the night so as he crept out of bed he had to be quiet. 

As he made his way to the corner of the room and took a sip of water from the bucket in the corner, he heard a light knocking by the window. 

He wasn’t expecting a prince to be peering in. 

As he went wide eyed, he was met with a handsome, lopsided smile and a wave. 

Dex only shook his head, confused. 

Keefe motioned him to come out of the house.

At first he didn’t want to, but there was just something about the Keefe that he couldn’t say no to… and not just because he was the prince. 

“What the hell are you doing outside my house at midnight?”

“Couldn’t sleep, you’re the only person I thought might let me bother them.”

Dex knew he was correct. “Yeah, ok, you’re right.” he sighed. 

He was rewarded with an even wider smile from the golden haired prince. 

“Fantastic, in that case, follow me.”

As they walked, Dex could only think about the odd circumstances of his situation. 

Three days ago he accidentally ran into the prince. With most rulers that would probably get him executed. Instead, he same prince was now leading him somewhere in the middle of the night. 

“So...where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, I think you’ll like it.”

He was paranoid. What if Keefe was taking him to be executed? What if King Cassius was even crueler than the legends? What if his family woke up in the morning to an empty bed and a notice from the royal guard?

Or worse, what if Keefe touched him and felt how the butterflies in his stomach were doing loopty-loops as he walked closely by his side?

As they approached a corner, Dex was yanked back and a finger was in front of his face telling him to stay silent. He complied. 

Keefe soon ran ahead again and motioned for Dex to follow. 

“Why are we running?”

“The last guards just got done with that part of their round. That means the next set of guards are coming soon.”

Dex was panting hard, despite his long limbs he wasn’t a runner. Yes, he was strong from physical labor but running never really came up a lot in that. Especially not running from guards. 

“There it is!” Keefe explained as he halted. 

From where they stood, it seemed to be a large wall that stood about 6 feet tall and closed completely around what was a long abandoned part of castle grounds. 

Keefe approached it excitedly but Dex hesitated. 

Keefe heaved himself up on the wall without issue despite its height. 

Jeez he was strong. 

Once he found his seat, he turned back to Dex and gave him a ‘why aren’t you coming?’ look. 

“Are you sure we’re supposed to be doing this?”

“Techmaster, we aren’t supposed to be doing any of this.”

“Techmaster?”

“Yeah, it’s your nickname now, you like it?” He immediately started talking again, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway what I was saying was, we’re not supposed to be doing any of this. But, with my help you’re not going to get in trouble. I’d recommend you decide fast though, the guards should be coming around this way soon.”

Dex thought about it for a second. 

Keefe reached his hand out. 

“Don’t you trust me?”

His smile was irresistible, after only a moment of hesitation he grasped the prince’s hand. So much for fearing him reading Dex’s emotions. 

Keefe helped him up to sit on the wall with two hands. 

“Wow you’re heavy, must have a lot of muscle packed on that body.”

At that moment it became painfully apparent that the boys were still holding each other’s hands. They quickly dropped them but it was obvious Keefe felt every emotion that Dex did at that compliment. 

Keefe glanced over Dex’s shoulder and gasped. 

“Guards!” he said in a harsh whisper and quickly pulled Dex down into the walled area. 

They landed with a hard crash into some bushes.

“Ow…” Dex said as he slowly sat up. Only then did he see what resided in the wall.

It looked like it was a garden, or rather used to be a garden. It seemed long abandoned now. Where there used to be white marble statues, vines obstructed the figures. What looked like it used to be a fountain was now dry of water and covered by foliage. The garden beds were overgrown with weeds and rustled like a creature had made their home in them. 

“Wow” Dex said as he took it all in. 

“It used to be my mom’s private garden. Then she got married to my father and, well, she didn’t exactly have the time for it anymore.”

“I bet it was beautiful.”

“Yeah, I mean I wouldn’t know but...yeah.”

Keefe started down the path that led through the garden and Dex followed. 

“I figured that...well you’re a gardener so maybe you’d like it? I don’t know, it probably just reminds you of work-”

“No, I love it. It’s amazing.”

~*~

“Guards!” Keefe said, quickly pulling Dex down and diving into the bushes. In reality there weren’t any guards there, if he had his timing right then there wouldn’t be any more guards for another 5 minutes. But after feeling how embarrassed and flustered Dex got he just didn’t know how to respond. He had taken it too far, obviously Dex didn’t like him. 

“Ow…” Dex groaned as he sat up. Keefe was worried he hurt him when he yanked him down for a second. 

He wasn’t worried anymore after Dex said, “Wow” at the sight of the long abandoned Queen’s Gardens. 

“It used to be my mom’s private garden. Then she got married to my father and, well, she didn’t exactly have the time for it anymore.”

“I bet it was beautiful” 

“Yeah,” Keefe was more focused on how beautiful Dex looked in the moonlight. “I mean I wouldn’t know but...yeah.”

The Queen’s Gardens were abandoned well over a century before he was born. He had only seen artwork of when it was still neat and kept. 

Keefe started walking down the path that he knew led to the prettiest spot in the garden. He only knew about it because he and Fitz would always explore this place when they were little. His mother had gotten on to them about it more than once but they always came back. 

“I figured that...well you’re a gardener so maybe you’d like it? I don’t know, it probably just reminds you of work-” 

“No, I love it. It’s amazing.”

Keefe let out a relieved sigh as they came upon a small pond right at the center of the garden. It was still relatively clear despite the lack of upkeep and reflected the bright stars in the sky. It looked like a tiny portal to a far away galaxy contained in the ground. 

“Woah.” Dex said as he sat down on the bank. Keefe sat next to him. 

Keefe couldn't focus on the scenery. All he saw was the kind, funny, cute, boy sitting next to him. 

Dex noticed him staring. 

...fuck.

He was expecting something awkward, maybe he would swear at Keefe, or even just ask why he was staring. 

Instead, he was presented with a gentle smile. Dex then looked back out to the water and reached for Keefe’s hand. 

Keefe interlocked his fingers with Dex’s and looked out at the pond, too. He specifically tried not to read the redheaded boy’s emotions. 

They sat that way until they could barely keep their eyes open anymore and headed back to their homes. 

They both slept well that night.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fic #keefex #keefe sencen #dex dizznee

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter viii

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. 

“Hey, are you busy?” I huffed as I heard Ransom’s voice, especially the concerned tone he was using. It’s not like I didn’t believe he actually wanted to have a serious conversation with me, but more as in I did not want to have that conversation right now, not when I could still remember the night we *almost shared oh-so-well.

“Yes, can’t talk right now.” And that’s all I said before I hung up on him, knowing I was being impolite, but honestly too busy to care. Classes had started and considering next term I probably wouldn’t be here to take care of my usual courses, I had to leave somewhat of a very structured syllabus behind for who was supposed to sub for me.

Days went by where it was pretty much the same. Ransom would call me, I’d give him an excuse to hang up, and then I’d throw myself into work, still adamant on ignoring the fact that a whole human was growing inside of me. I had to schedule a doctor’s appointment, I knew that, but the thought of going there alone and the reality of the situation suddenly hitting me was just too much.

I should have known it was only a matter of time until Ransom grew tired of my efforts to dodge his calls, though.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my mouth hanging open as he walked into my office. When I heard the knocks, I expected it was another student who still hadn’t figured out my office hours yet, so to see him in my work environment was particularly shocking.

The man in question just shrugged, like it was absolutely no big deal that he was in the same environment where I usually planned my courses. “You didn’t answer your phone. I need to talk to you.”

“You can’t keep showing up in random places that you know I’ll be in! First my house, now my workplace…” He actually flinched at my complaint, for the first time since I met him seeming genuinely aware of his mistake.

“I know. I’m sorry. I really needed to talk to you and you wouldn’t answer your phone. I figured coming here would be less invasive than just showing up at your apartment again.” The fact that he actually put thought behind this and considered my feelings about it actually disarmed me.

He was right, this was less invasive than having in my home, considering I did not plan on seeing him at all. This was my work environment, somewhere I always felt empowered in, and not the place where I walked around in pajamas and would hide at when I was in my most vulnerable state.

“Are you gonna throw me out?” He asked me, vulnerability written all over his expression, and I was thrown off whatever wagon I had intended to ride the next time I met with Ransom again.

“No.” The word sounded tired even to my own ears, and that’s because I was. I was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of being aggressive and dismissive towards someone I knew I would have to eventually work with. I pointed the chair in front of me for him to sit, chuckling to myself as I rubbed my eyes when I realized the perfect irony of this situation. He was the one in my office now.

For a few seconds, we just stared at each other. I was waiting for him to talk - he was the one who seemed so desperate to talk to me, anyway - but it seemed like he needed the time to gather his courage.

Once he started, though… It was clear that he’d been mulling this over for a long time.

“I know you barely know me, and the stuff you do know has probably introduced you to the worst possible version of me… I can’t even say that’s not true. For a long time, that was all I was and all I wanted to be.” He took a minute to breathe, and I patiently waited for him to continue. If anything, it was obvious he was speaking from the heart, and I wanted him to know that I highly appreciated him lowering his defenses for a while to actually let me see who he really was.

“Still, as the man you think I am, I ask for you to give me a chance. Please, listen to me. Don’t do this. Don’t lock me out, don’t keep me away from you and this pregnancy. I can do better. I can *be better. Maybe this kid is exactly what I needed to get my act together. I was able to fix my work behavior, it was my personal life that missed… something to work towards.”

My hand had fallen over my belly, protectively shielding my child from what I’d briefly considered he’d present as a lab experiment for his own self-improvement, but then I understood. I’d seen this before on my research about him - his actions weren’t completely careless and egoistic, they were his response to the internal anguish he had lived through, of not having anything to aspire towards.

“And I really want to be around for this. I want to be around for you. I don’t want my only participation to be… sperm donor.” And there, for the first time since we met, Ransom Drysdale made me laugh with his defense mechanism of joking around emotional moments. 

It seemed like my laughter eased some of the tension in the room, and he even smiled as he continued, “I can’t promise I’ll do a good job. I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do, but I will try my very best - and that’s more than I’ve been willing to do my entire life. I want to be better, for our child and for you. Because you deserve that. You deserve someone to help you go through this too.”

Try as I might, I could not stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks by the end of his speech. I’d blame the pregnancy, even though I knew that was only half of it. The relief was just… indescribable. This is exactly what I’d prayed to have when I found out I was pregnant to a man I barely knew.

And so I reached out for his hand, wanting him to know just how much I meant what I was about to say. “Listen, I screwed up too. I let gossip get the best of me. The truth is, I’m scared of relying on someone and then having to figure it all out by myself, once again. So I need us to start small, okay? Maybe if we build this friendship on a foundation that’s different from the pregnancy, I can start to trust you with it, too.”

He nodded understandingly, lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but I beat him to it. “Would you like to meet me at the bar tonight? Ana has been bugging me to go and I promised I’d accompany her there tonight. I think it’s more your scene than a night in with chocolate and movies.”

His mouth closed at that, and he laughed, eyes crinkling with humor as he nodded at my words. “You are right. That does sound good to me.” We stayed like that for a while, just relishing in each other’s presence. “So, meet you there?” He asked, and I could see there were still some underlying trust issues there. I did spend the last week avoiding him, though.

So I squeezed his hand before confirming, “Meet you there tonight.”

#my series #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale angst #angst #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction

[smileysuh]

BTS Reaction : his friends hear you call him daddy

Jin: 

You could hear your boyfriend and his friends in the living area. He’d just pulled your shirt off your body when Jimin had banged on the door for him to go look at a meme they’d found. “Stay here.” Jin had growled before he ran a hand through his hair, fixed his shirt and left you in his room.

You’d been waiting for ages, even taking the liberty of taking your pants off. You’d wandered around the room, looking at his things until you got bored. Then you walked to the door listening to the group outside.

He’d told you to stay in the bedroom, but you’d been waiting for so long-

You peaked your head out, listening for a few moments. You were still in just your bra and panties, so instead you opened your mouth, “Daddy?” you called, realizing the moment the word left your lips that you’d messed up.

All four heads turned towards your voice. They couldn’t see you, after all, you were down the hallway in Jin’s room- but they’d definitely heard you. 

“Was that-” Tae began.

“Did she just call you daddy?!” Jimin yelled, turning to look at Jin with wide eyes.

Jin swallowed thickly, trying to compose himself for a moment before he looked to the younger men, “I-”

“She did!” Jimin said, reading the look on Jin’s face.

“she calls you daddy?!” Tae laughed.

Jin glared at Tae and Tae shut his mouth quickly. Then his gaze dropped to Jungkook, who had yet to say anything. Everyone's eyes went to the golden Maknae. The mood in the room dipped. 

It was obvious that Jungkook was turned on. The way he was looking forward, towards the hallway- he was so still they wondered if he was even breathing. 

“It’s almost like he’s never heard a girl call her boyfriend daddy before.” Jimin said, laughing.

Jungkook said nothing and Jimin’s laughter stopped, he and Tae looked to Jin, who looked between them. “None of you have been called daddy before?” Jin asked.

Jimin looked at Tae who looked back, “have you?”

“No, you?”

Jimin shook his head. 

“I’ll be back,” Jin said, “stay here.”

“Yes daddy.” Jimin teased, earning a smack from Tae and even a look from Jungkook, who finally tore his eyes from the door to scowl at Jimin. 

Jin left, approaching the room. When he got there he entered and closed the door behind him, eyes taking in your body sitting on the bed, “Jin i’m sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry.” he told you, “i left my princess waiting didn’t I?”

(I kinda wanna turn this into a full length fic where Jin teaches the Maknae line about rough sex lol)

Suga:

“pet names?” the interviewer asked, looking at the group, “like, what do you enjoy being called?”

before anyone could answer Jimin giggled, leaning forward but avoiding the mic, he directed his voice at his friends, “Suga likes being called daddy.”

Suga was taken aback for a moment, forcing a laugh as Namjoon attempted to smooth over the answer, lying that Jimin had meant ‘zaddy’ and it was a new English word they’d found.

Suga was quiet the rest of the interview, and as soon as it was over he practically grabbed Jimin by the scruff of the neck, “why did you say that?!” he asked.

Jimin smirked, “sometimes when you get a call from her we can hear the conversation.”

Suga stared at him blankly, “so-”

“we’ve heard a lot.” Namjoon stepped in again, pulling Jimin away from the older, angry-looking Suga, “try turning down your phone’s volume next time.”

J-Hope:

He had not expected you to answer the phone with a “yes daddy?” when he’d called you and put you on speaker with his friends. 

Hobi couldn’t help but laugh immediately, Jin joining in after a moment. you realized right away what was happening and felt your skin flush, knowing you’d just been caught. You wondered how he’d smooth the situation over. 

he couldn’t. J-Hope couldn’t stop laughing, not at you, but at the situation. his friends stared at him, a mix of shock and morbid joy on their faces at the fact that a kink had just been revealed by accident.

He switched the topic very fast, telling you he’d be late coming home that night and not to wait up for him. as you went to hang up, his voice stopped you, “aren’t you going to say goodnight to daddy?”

Namjoon:

He and his friends were waiting for you to get ready, Namjoon kept checking the time, “she’s gonna pull a Jimin.” Namjoon sighed, earning a smack from the younger man, “baby?” he called, “are you almost done?!”

“yes daddy!” you called back absentmindedly.

everyone looked to Namjoon and he smirked, offering only a wink before you came running out of the bedroom, looking flustered. he wrapped his arm around you, “you look amazing.” he told you. his friends watched him press a soft kiss to your lips, all of their jaws still practically on the floor from what you’d just said. “let's go.” Namjoon said, heading to the door.

He knew his friends would rip into him over it later, but he wasn’t about to make an issue out of it in front of you. he knew it would embarrass you. and if any of his friends brought it up, they knew they’d be in trouble. 

Jimin:

“baby, I’m home!” his voice rang through the apartment.

You were reading in your room and offered a “be out in a minute daddy!” as a response. 

Suga laughed, “did she just-” he began, pointing to the door to your room.

“don’t make a big deal of it,” Jimin hissed, “Suga’s here too!” he called, giving you the information before you got yourself into more trouble.

“she calls you daddy.” Suga laughed louder, earning a smack on the arm from Jimin.

“you’re just jealous.” Jimin stated.

“fuck, you’re right.”

Tae:

He’d thought the episode would be fine. giving another member his phone wasn’t the worst thing in the world, after all, he kept all his more nsfw pictures of you in a hidden folder. 

And then Namjoon opened the voicemail and Tae realized he was in trouble. “let’s listen to some of the messages.” Namjoon said pleasantly, having no idea what was to come.

he hit speaker and after a moment your voice filled the room, “hey Tae, i know you’re at work, and i hope you’re having a good day. I’ve just really been missing you, so give me a call when you’re done daddy?”

Everyone turned to look at Tae who was standing there with a look of shock on his face. Namjoon’s jaw had dropped but he tried to recollect himself, as he looked at the camera, “uh, no more voicemails.” he said pleasantly, “let’s open pictures.” he crossed his fingers for something distracting and was grateful when he was met with pictures of dogs, “we love dogs!” 

Namjoon began to talk about dogs but the rest of the group was still staring at Tae, who had yet to control his facial expression. Jungkook nudged him, leaning to whisper into his ear “daddy?”

Tae hid his face with his hands, he was so screwed. 

Jungkook:

You turned to go but Jungkook grabbed your hand, pulling you back to his chest, “no kiss goodbye?” he chastised you. 

you smiled at him, pressing your lips against his. He kept you close, kissing you longer than you expected him to, especially with his friends watching.

when he pulled back, you blinked at him, still in a daze from his lips, “goodbye.”

“goodbye who?” he said, still keeping you in his grasp.

“goodbye daddy.” 

he smiled and let you go, watching you leave. as soon as you were out of sight, his friends approached, “did she just call you daddy?!”  Jimin nearly screamed.

Jungkook just smiled smugly, “told you my girlfriend is the best.”

**** Masterlist

#j-hope #suga #namjoon #jin #jimin #jungkook #taehyung #bts #bangtan boys #kim namjoon #bts v #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #min yoongi #user:taenamgi #jin bts #namjoon bts #rap monster #jhope #jhope bts #jimin bts #jungkook bts #bts reactions #taehyung x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #jin x reader #jhope x reader #reaction