#tag yourself as the character you share a height with who's your favorite | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bmbochangetales · 3 years ago

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I posted 416 times in 2021

56 posts created (13%)

360 posts reblogged (87%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 6.4 posts.

I added 602 tags in 2021

#reblog - 229 posts

#my favorite reads - 145 posts

#my writing - 50 posts

#mr h m bo - 45 posts

#my story - 40 posts

#short story - 28 posts

#caption - 22 posts

#interactive - 18 posts

#bimboization - 13 posts

#bimbo talk - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 45 characters

#working through writer's block and a busy job

My Top Posts in 2021

I’m not sure what to get! I’m an average height 18 year old about to start college who also swims. I have small boobs that I despise and a kind of nice ass that I wish was better. Honestly I’m just WAY too smart for my own good.

I also HATE coffee and can only tolerate fruity black teas. But I absolutely adore hot chocolate or frappachinos. And can I have some pastries too?

You are about to start college? Something tells me you will learn to drink coffee for its amazing study powers and help getting through the day.

Unless you are some amazing super organized human, in which case, share your secrets.

In all seriousness, study hard, have fun and always have some balance! Good luck!

In the world of Doll’s cafe, well let’s see what happens.

************************

It has been a busy week already. Moving in, starting classes, and training for swim team. You feel like you had barely had time for yourself.

You looked up cafes off campus hoping for a bit more time of quiet to help you focus. Doll’s came up with raving reviews, although they had a lot of spelling errors.

It was easy to find with it’s bright colors and distinct doors. You walked in with your simple black bookbag with some school work to keep occupied.

A braticcino? It was described as rich and overloaded with a twist. That sounded good to you. What should you get to eat now. Training was hard this morning. You needed something good. Builder Bars? Build up your most important body parts. You has heard of them before. You didn’t know cafes carried the protein bars.

You go to the register and see Doll herself for the first time. Her apron stretches to its limits keeping her beach ball tits in and you can’t help but be a little jealous. You had a marvelous figure as a swimmer but sometimes you just wish you didn’t need the sleek body.

“A braticcino and two builder bars please,” you say meekly. You haven’t quite found your confidence yet but that would come in time of being at college.

You pay and go to your table. You spot some girls strutting by. They were in your freshmen level English. All of them came here to party. If they got a degree in the process, it was just an added bonus. You couldn’t help but be a bit jealous. They were always shopping, partying or having fun. A few had even had time for plastic surgery. You had to keep a tight schedule to maintain your spot on the swim team and keep up your grades and scholarships.

Doll rushes the order to you. It all looks so tasty. These aren’t the builder bars you knew off but they looked like a real candy bar. Both kind of rounded. Did the kind of look like boobs and a butt? Your just being silly.

You take your first bite. It’s so thick and chewy. You keep eating and chewing but you need to wash it down. The glimmering gold braticcino catches the light reminding you of your drink. You wash down the first bar with almost half the drink.

You feel light headed for a second and don’t even notice your nails growing long and pink. Gemstones appear. These nails are for a girl whose doesn’t have much to do. You start to do your homework. But for some reason you don’t want to. It seems unfair that you have to work so hard, while other girls party and have fun.

Another sip of your drink. A bit of the builder bar. You feel your pants growing tighter first. Did you say pants you meant tiny mini skirt because you want to look good. Sexy at all times. You never know when you need to use it to get what you want.

Your head feels fuzzy but in a good way. You want more of that feeling. You are gulping the braticcino and inhaling the builder bars. You can do what you want. Swimming is forgotten unless it’s in a resort pool or tropical beach.

Your hair is now perm, dyed and styled to perfection. You have hours to spend at salons. You’re the daughter of a wealthy business man. Your history rewriting itself.

Your tits begin to balloon into perfectly crafted saline filled melons. Your mother insists you be looking perfect all the time. You have a credit card just for plastic surgery and cosmetic procedures. No isn’t a word you know any more. And you wore the latest designers to show them off.

“Daddy! They are making me take classes and do stuff here! It isn’t fair!” On the other end of the phone your father was explaining he would send money to have someone do your work. Your job was to have fun.

“Thanks daddy!” You slide all the magazines and over priced laptop into your even more overpriced luxury purse and strutted out the door.

“Also, I’m getting more lip filler this week! Thanks for paying!”

“Anything for my princess! Mom says make sure the doctor is expensive and good! Nice and big but not too fake. Spend as much as you want. We love you!”

Time to find a party and make use of Daddy’s plastic. You had boys to impress and earn a successful MRS.

75 notes • Posted 2021-08-03 00:01:05 GMT

Genie Taxi

Work was hard today. Cari got in the taxi and slammed the door. Maybe too hard.

“Sorry” she apologized to the cab driver.

“It’s okay miss, we all have those days, sit back and relax and let me know where to go.”

She told him the address, he punched it in, and they were off. His GPS beeped. “Heavy Traffic Along Route”

“Sorry miss it will take longer, rush hour unfortunately”

Cari leaned back, of course it would. When she just wanted to get home. She picked up her phone deciding to make a call to vent to her friend. She worked at an insanely busy office with rigid office culture.

“I work harder than anyone there and I get peanuts. Actually no, that’s a lie. I get more work load and the men get all the recognition.Id rather get the peanuts. I wish they actually had to do their jobs.”

The taxi driver snapped his fingers. Cari felt so relaxed suddenly. Work had actually been okay today. Her coworkers had started doing their work and her load was lighter. She still had so much to do but it helped. She worked at a busy office and they got a casual day once a week.

“Yeah my work load is just heavy but it is my position. Yeah, I know. I just wish I got recognized sometimes for all I need to do” the driver snapped his fingers again.

Cari was everyone’s favorite accountant in the office. It was a relaxed, nice office but still felt like a place of business.They were happy when she did her work correctly and always so polite and thankful for her help. But no one really talked to her outside of that. They were all more excited about the interns and the reception girls and the things they did.

“They are all nice to me, but I don’t think they care outside my job or even as me. I wish they saw me as more than an accountant.”

Mari became an eye turning accountant. The office was like a TV show. People looked good and sometimes did work. Tight button up shirts, low cut blouses. She only ever wore tight pencil skirts. She wore stilettos. She was dating and just wanted to look her best. The younger girls wanted to be like her. The guys at work were so nice about her work but she felt the stares. They whispered behind her back getting on who could bang her. Cari wanted to be able to feel comfortable at work not worrying about what the men were thinking.

“I wish I could feel more comfortable.” The driver smiled, now he was getting into some more fun wishes with more flexibility. He snapped.

Cari’s skirts grew shorter and her heels higher. Her tits grew and she looked more like a sexy office worker costume than an accountant. It was fun though. Her office was like college. Super relaxed and they had fun. They had rules but no one followed them. Male coworkers smacked her ass and grabbed her tits. She was so comfortable being the part time office plaything. She loved being the sexy friendly accountant. She got a lot of fun.She just wanted more time for attention and less time in the books. She would be busy and the guys went to visit the other girls. They were sexy and dumb and the men loved them.

“Mmm like I know girl. I am so lucky but like I wish I got more attention than the silly receptionists and interns.” The driver smirked and gave a double snap.

Cari was the receptionist for this super modern company. She wore tiny club dresses and platform high heels to work. She wore with the sexiest lingerie sets or no underwear at all. The company paid for it often so she looked the part of the sexy receptionist, They had games and the workers didn’t really have rules. Guys would grab her for a good fuck in any room. Her boss would try to get her daily for a blow job. But she still needed to be at the desk to work sometimes. She wanted to be with her coworkers.

“Reception is like so totally like so much fun but like I wish I could be like with the whole office.”

Cari worked for for an office that promoted their workers enjoying sex. It was a sex toy and lingerie company after all. Cari was an office fuck tou. She got to wear all the lingerie and costumes in the office and try all the sexy toys with the warmers. Her boss paid her in the whole wardrobe of sexy clothes. He loved for her massive tits and huge ass to be on display. He loved using her as a personal fuck toy. But like she still had to go to work everyday and it was like so hard. She just wanted sex and clothes.

“I wish like I didn’t need to work. Like trophy wife life. I suck cock so good. The CEO said” the ceo saw their reset destination ahead and new this was his grand finale. He snapped.

“Oh my god my driver like got me home. I needs to go get fucked by my husband. That’s like my only job besides be a sexy bimbo. I wish you can be this happy too. Sounds like it with all your moaning, go fuck slut!” He got one last quick wish in making her friend a total slut to match. She could set her up with a VP at her husbands company.

The genie breathed a sigh of relief. He was tired from all her wishes but he got a lot done and twisted a lot of words and wishes. Being a taxi genie was entertaining work. Be careful what you say in a taxi every one.

77 notes • Posted 2021-05-26 00:01:50 GMT

I was so sick of the cold, wearing thick coats and being stuck inside. Having to look at the snow. I’m not a winter person at all.

When that good of a deal on a tropical vacation popped up, I had to snatch it. Now I’m laying on a beach in a bikini with a cold drink in my hand.

I’m relaxing but I just can’t stop staring at the woman in front of me. Her top is a few sizes too small and she has a pair of huge breasts catching every ray of sun perfectly. I don’t know why I can’t look away.

I mean I have my own breasts to look at and okay with, but hers are just so magnificent. I start to wonder about what it would cost to get my own pair so I can look almost as good as the beautiful miss.

“I couldn’t help to see you staring. Aren’t they nice and big? Like you could just watch them forever? I’d let you obey me and my tits forever.

I obey Mistress and her tits.

“Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me. I didn’t mean to stare. I just really like you boobs, I was thinking of getting my own pair, but I don’t know if they would look as good as yours.”

“Yeah people say the want to just obey me and my tits. It’s almost like I get these ones by magic. The more people like them, the bigger and more perfect they get”

I obey mistress and her tits

I was now just blatantly gawking at her tits. Imagining them even bigger and better. They would be glorious. Something to worship and obey. I could feel my nipples hardening on my tiny imperfect lumps. Imagining being next to her with my own pair of pretty and perfect tits. My bathing suit bottom was quickly becoming soaked without ever stepping foot in the ocean.

“I would love to see them be more perfect mistress”

I obey mistress and her tits

“Good little tit slave. Now just stare and watch”

I was staring like a good girl at the beautiful tits watching for their magic. They begin to shimmer in the sun like they were diamonds, but mistress’s tits are better than diamonds. They began to swell and bounce as she lay like a goddess on the chair. I just started massaging my inferior tits and I imagined being able to hold her tits and make mistress feel good with squeezing, licking, sucking and serving.

“That’s my biggest growth yet” mistress gleamed. “Aren’t you the best little pet? Let’s give you some pretty titties that I can have some fun with,”

My chest felt warm as my bathing suit was pressing out. My tits were growing into beautiful mounds from mistress to serve her with. The bounced beautifully as they continued to grow and swell almost as big and stunning as the first pair I saw my lovely mistress with.

She leaned over and gave them a squeeze. I immediately became a horny mewling mess. I was weak for mistress and was pleased to be turned into her little tit slave sex pet. She pulled a collar out of her bag and placed it around my neck as a I kneeled waiting for her next command.

“Just wait until you taste my pussy”

77 notes • Posted 2021-02-20 01:01:40 GMT

Sorry to interrupt the bimbo feed but I need to speak for minute:

So I had someone really shy message me we will call angel. I won’t tag them, but they know who they are. And if the person who messaged angel ever reads this, you don’t deserve a bimbo or any fuck toys.

Angel asked me nervously in messenger and with a lot of apologies mixed in if I could write a softer bimbo piece. Explaining angel likes the idea of bimbos but not wanting to be totally brainless or treated like a trash can, not losing all sense of self. Maybe just snippets in a silly bimbo or himbos day. A softer person who is with them, not an angry using owner. Maybe someone who lives their normal life by day and home is their play space.

I asked why angel was so nervous to ask for something so simple and sweet. Sweet little angel explained that they talked about their preferences with someone else in the community and were told in a very disrespectful way that angel’s idea wasn’t what it was about. Angel needed to want to be a different way. Serving a master and forgetting who they were. Only made to be used sexually and nothing else. Too dumb to function only wanting to be used and degraded.

I stopped then and told Angel, in the end it is about two consenting people agreeing on what they like and all my stories are fantasy. I write some things but that is not end all be all views or what I want necessarily.

If you chose to do real life play or live the lifestyle, it is two consenting people agreeing on what choices and giving control and respect to each other, even if it may not be in a sense some people as respect. I believe this community falls in BDSM and should follow the rules as such.

Don’t be an asshole to people with different views then you on a kink. If someone likes softer sides and doesn’t want hard core, simply say pleasure talking to you, we should find people who match each other more. If you ever tell me how to enjoy my kinks, fetishes and sex life and try to push me outside my boundaries , I can and will block you. In real life, I would knock you out. Also, if you are being harassed or bothered by someone please block them and report them. That is not cool in real life ever and I may remove it from fantasy stuff if it is a problem and encourages the wrong kind of behavior. I am 100% about consent. Just respect people for the love of god. Separate real from fantasy. Play how you want and don’t infringe on other people.

Never be scared of YOUR kink style or think you have to have a fetish a certain way. This is all about what you want. You don’t have to love hypnotized to a mindless drone with big fake body parts being used, degraded and demeaned to enjoy bimbos.If you want to see a softer side of bimbos and their master/sir/owner/partner that’s totally cool. I actually really like the idea and am going to work on some softer pieces. Soft Bimbo Hours will become my special little pet project.

So if you want to be used and made to feel like an object, with no thoughts ever owned and controlled, filled with silicone to look faker than fake, you do you, it can be a lot of fun. If you want to a degraded server of everyone you meet, go for it. But also if you just want to look cute , be a little spacey and stick on a more simpler side of things being vanilla (which is never a bad thing), that’s awesome too! If you just want to read and role play that’s your choice! Respect choices and people’s pleasure!

Just do what makes you happy and enjoy your kinks (law abiding and not being a trash can of a human of course), whatever they may be. My blog and I are here to support you.

Also, I now have a video baking date and a new friend 😍😍😍

* I edited this post for clarity because I wrote it while angry and my mind moves 100 miles a minute when I’m mad

103 notes • Posted 2021-01-02 00:43:34 GMT

She just wanted to lose a few years off her face and give her girls a small lift. This was way more affordable than the other places and she could even throw in a butt lift. This was going to be perfect if this new surgery was any good.

“Yeah silli-cone is cheaper. Still pretty new. Side effects are under research now. But nothing horrible or fatal” he looked down at my information skipping over the iq loss, libido increase, and lack of independent thought.

“My whole nursing staff is getting surgery this week with it! I highly recommend it. I have an information video if you want! Watch carefully!”

The doctor turned it on. It was a beautiful video. So shiny and sparkling! And look how happy they all were with their big silli-cone bodies! Their full lips, looking like pillows coated in glossy colors. She should get silli-cone. She wanted to be a silli-cone girl. Bigger…sillier…sluttier…silli-cone.

She signed all the papers to come back next week. She was buzzing all week.Nights filled with dreams of being the perfect silli-cone girl. She was ready for this new change. Long forgotten was her plan of just a quick nip and tuck.

The day came and she sat as there as soon as possible. She was out to sleep before she could even count backwards.

Her eyes opened and she looked down. She giggled. 3 of the cutest silli-cone girl nurses bustled around her in 3 sizes too small nursing outfits and platform boots, doing a whole bunch of numbery checking and totally looking like perfect silli-cone girls.

They began helping her sit up.

“Oh my gosh like Dr Smith thanks so much,” she happily gave a little dance in the mirror. Her lips, tits and ass were enormous and fake. She loved watching them move. She was excited to dress up to show them off, maybe even find some guys to use them.

“I’m a silli-cone girl now” and no one would ever doubt that.

Ads play all over tv and the internet , women not seeing the beautiful gold and glittering spiral making them wish they were silli-cone girls.

“Oh my gosh I’m like so silly. My massive titties and lips looks like amazing. I need to use them. Like any good silli-cone girl! I’ve already made my appointment to go back ! I can’t wait to be the biggest and best sillicone-girl the Doctor. Smith has ever built.”

“Bigger, sluttier, sillier- silli-cone…book your appointment today

284 notes • Posted 2021-07-06 00:01:14 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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b0rista · 4 years ago

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— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness.

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot scenarios #aot headcanons #connie springer #connie springer x reader #aot x reader #connie springer headcanons

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rfadaydreaming · 4 years ago

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— cellophane

why won’t you do it for me? when all i do is for you?

pairing: jumin x mc

words: 4.4k

link to read on ao3 [x]

prompt: failures // fights

tags: angst, language, unhealthy relationship, a bit toxic tbh, insecure jumin, emotional manipulation, unhappy marriage

a/n: for: @mysme-events angst week. this piece is inspired by fka twigs song, cellophane!

“Are you mad at me?”

Your voice had come out smaller than you had intended.

“Is there a reason I should be mad at you?”

He replied without meeting your gaze, opting to focus on the rain outside the car window instead. You didn’t quite know what kind of emotion his tone was carrying, but yet you knew it wasn’t good.

“No...”

You became hyperaware of the bad taste beginning to form in the back of your throat. It’s all too familiar, unfortunately.

“Then I shouldn't be mad at you. Should I?”

You didn’t answer him. You just weren’t sure what to say.

Heavy silence filled the car once again, the rain against the roof of the vehicle was the only thing that occupied the small space.

You sighed louder than you meant to, arms crossing over your torso, cheek resting against the foggy glass of the window. The cold felt nice against your skin, helped keep you grounded, calm. You took in a few deep breaths as you thought back on the events of earlier tonight.

The unfamiliar hand grazing the small of your back surprised you to say the least, you wanted to flinch away the moment you felt his hands touch you,, but yet you didn’t move. Why? You’re not exactly sure. Politeness, anxiety, maybe a mix of both. Maybe something else underneath it all.

You recognized the voice as a business partner of Jumins, the owner of the company that’s been occupying most of your husband's time as of late. Late nights, long meetings, hoards and hoards of paperwork.

His reputation was one you knew well, hearing it all secondhand from Jumin. He was quick to drop anyone who disagreed with him, no matter how small. Such a pain for your stubborn husband to work around, but yet as always, he somehow managed.

But one thing your husband made sure you knew about was his stance with women in particular. You weren’t allowed to come to the company dinners anymore. You could only drop things off through Jaehee at the office.

It seems he didn’t even want you to call him after meetings, one thing you two have always done even before you had started dating. Maybe the fear of his colleague overhearing your voice was the reason behind it, you didn’t know, you didn’t ask. You knew he would get upset if you did.

Stay away from him, was all he warned.

And you promised him that you would.

“And you must be the famous Mrs Han, I presume?”

He was in front of you now, his hand lingering on your hip for a moment before pulling away. You inched away ever so slightly.

“Ah, Yes. I am.”

You had to look up to him to reply due to how close he was, the first thing you noticed was just how much he resembled Jumin. The only major difference was his eyes, while your husbands were grey and light, his were brown and deep. The similarities threw you off guard for a moment, however your surprise once you met his gaze seemed to be taken a different way than you had intended.

A slight chuckle escaped his lungs, It was warm and clear, it had a bit more of a higher pitch than Jumin’s did. More character to it.

“I’ve heard such great things about you! Your husband seems like quite the happy man. And I can see why, you’re beautiful. Ah– If I can say that, that is.”

You shied away without thinking, you didn’t particularly like the feeling you had in your stomach right now. You were also painfully aware of how his position was giving him a ‘good view’ of your body from up there, as your husband would sometimes say.

His words seemed innocent, he seemed kind. But Jumin’s warning still flickered within your mind.

“Thanks, I suppose.”

You fully expected him to take advantage of his much taller height, but yet he didn’t seem to. His eyes were trained onto your own as he smiled, never glancing down at your chest even once.

A weird feeling stirred deep within your insides.

He isn’t like how Jumin described at all.

Why would your husband lie?

You entertained his small talk for a few minutes, he introduced himself, as did you.

Fear was the main thing holding you back from leaving, of course. Jumin had been working on this project for months now, the memories of him falling asleep over his laptop, his dark circles, his late night confessions of just how much his head ached were fresh in the back of your mind.

His mood swings, his exhaustion, his late nights.

Be polite.

Be polite for Jumin.

“–But enough about all that! Do you drink?”

“Uhm… Wine, sometimes. But i’m not the biggest fan.”

“Any reason in particular?”

He leaned into you a bit, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. You naturally smiled in return.

“I’ve tried some wine, but they’re just all so bitter to me.”

You scrunched your nose a little at the memories. Vineyards with Jumin were never your favorite, he just loved such sour wines.

“Bitter? Your husband is an investor in how many wineries exactly, yet only offers his wife bitter wine? Hm. We can’t have that now, can we?”

He spoke with a smile, wrapping his arm around your waist and beginning to guide you towards the bar. Before you even got the chance to protest in return, he was already sweeping you away. His thumb ran circles on your hip that you were painfully aware of.

The pit in your stomach was growing heavier and heavier with every step.

It's been awhile since Jumin’s had even touched you like this, you thought.

It was nice.

He was rambling on about the wines he had lined up for tonight as he led you to a seat, pulling it out for you while still going on and on. You couldn’t even find an opening to interject, ask for a bathroom break, anything.

He ordered you a drink, as well as one for himself.

You desperately scanned the room for Jumin, eyes bouncing off black suit after black suit. You just couldn’t pinpoint him like this, everyone was wearing such similar clothing...

You swallowed thickly and took a sip of the wine in front of you, face cringing a bit as you expected the worst, however pleasantly surprised once the taste had hit your tongue.

It wasn't nearly as bitter as the wines Jumin often offered you.

Jumin’s sudden touch to your knee had caused you to jump a little, breaking you away from your racing thoughts.

“Stop.”

He finally met your gaze, you scrunched your brows in confusion. Two fingers pressed down against your skin, putting a halt to your restless leg.

“You know I don't like when you do that.”

A sigh escaped his lungs as he pulled his hand back, crossing his arms over his torso once again. Back to staring at whatever was so interesting outside the window. Oh yes, you had forgotten. How could you.

You glanced down at your knee after he had already pulled away.

It was red from the pressure that had been placed there.

“Well, sorry for being such an inconvenience then.”

You laughed a little in disbelief as you spoke, pressing your cheek against the window once more.

Maybe it was a childish thing to say, but you truly didn’t care right now. You slumped further into the seat, humming to yourself softly as you stole some glances here and there towards your husband.

His face was void of any readable emotion as of now, but his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes said everything you needed to know. He seemed to be thinking about something, your words perhaps. He suddenly met your eyes without warning. It made you flinch.

“Inconvenience.”

He looked at you as he spoke. It felt so cold. You could feel anxiety beginning to build.

“Inconvenience, is searching all over the venue for my wife when she won’t even bother to pick up her phone for her husband.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but you had cut him off before he got the chance,

“Jumin I told you it was almost dead earlier tonight, I just–“

“Don’t interrupt me while i’m speaking. Please.”

Jumin raised his voice harshly, it was ever so slight, but it still took you by surprise. His eyes were oddly intense with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint, all you knew is that they carried weight behind him. One you weren’t used to seeing.

His gaze made you feel small and slightly embarrassed, you weren’t even sure why. It just did.

You nodded and closed your mouth, letting him go on.

“Inconvenience, is watching my wife entertain another man while I watch from the sidelines. Not just any man, but the one man I so vividly remember telling her to stay away from.”

You opened your mouth to interject once more but his brows furrowed as soon as you did so, his chin tilted forward in silent warning.

He continued on.

“Inconvenience, is seeing my wife share drinks with another man. Flirting with another man. Touching another man.”

“I didn't flirt.”

You raised your voice slightly, not by much, but it was enough to make him raise a brow. It was just... so hard to control yourself when he was being like this sometimes.

“Sharing a few drinks with him, laughing and giggling like some teenage schoolgirl, letting him put his hands all over you. Might as well have.”

Jumin’s tone was still so cold, monotone, and for some reason that hurt more than anything else could have.

It was like this most of the time. He would never yell, he would never shout, barely even show any emotion at all if you’re being honest. It drove you up the wall sometimes. You always left feeling like you were the irrational one because of it, no matter the case.

It seems that’s what was happening again. As it always does.

“I wasn't given a choice, Jumin! He wouldn’t let me–”

The car came to a sudden stop, you groaned a bit, nearly biting your tongue due to the stop. It interrupted you just as you had begun to raise your voice.

Jumin gave you an heavy look before rolling down the partition, Driver Kim gave him the confirmation that you two were back home.

He got out first, offering you a hand that you had refused to take.

The elevator ride was so uncomfortable.

His posture was relaxed as it usually was, hands messing with his cufflinks absentmindedly, his expression nearly blank while he stared at the panel of buttons on the wall, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world or something. The only indicator he has when he’s upset would be a clenched jaw.

It was something you had become oh so familiar with these past couple of months.

Anxiety was building up inside of your body, it felt itchy, it nearly burned. It was almost always there and had no issues made itself well known. But there was something deeper building behind it, not just from the argument. Something unfamiliar, bitter, ugly.

It frightened you.

You weren’t sure what it was yet.

And you weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

The two of you entered the penthouse in heavy silence, it felt like even breathing was much too loud for the atmosphere around the both of you. Elizabeth the Third had come running over as soon as the door opened, but it seems even she was able to sense the tension. You weren’t surprised, she usually can.

She opted to climb up on the couch instead, tail twitching back and forth as she watched her parents carefully from afar. You vaguely wondered if she knew something you didn’t.

Jumin went straight to the kitchen as soon as his jacket and shoes were off, not a word was spoken while he left. He went for a glass of wine you could only presume, he usually did once he got home. Normally you would get on his case about it, his more unhealthy drinking habits had been increasing as of late, but tonight wasn’t the time to nag him for it. You didn’t have the energy to fuel the fire more than you already had.

You walked over to the living-room with a sigh, giving Elizabeth a slight pat before sprawling out on the couch. Your feet ached due to the heels from earlier tonight, but the relief of home was a welcomed feeling. You let your body sink into the cushions as you relaxed, at least the best you could for now.

You stared outside the window for a few moments, admiring the beauty of the city below. Your mind wandered just a bit. So many different types of people, most you’ll never meet, never see. But yet you wondered if maybe anyone out there knew how you felt right now. Maybe they could offer advice, a shoulder to cry on, something. Anything.

You closed your eyes, suddenly aware of how heavy they were getting, allowing your head fall back against the couch. It felt nice for a moment.

You drew in a deep breath, your lungs stung as you pushed their limits.

It was peaceful.

Jumin popping open a wine bottle in the kitchen caused you to flinch as you were brought back down to reality. The anxiety of the situation flooded back all at once, enough to make your stomach churn.

The gentle still of before was gone in an instant.

You knew how all of this would play out. It truly felt rehearsed at this point.

He would press your buttons.

You would get angry.

He would give you the silent treatment as soon as you lost your cool.

You would apologize.

He would forgive you.

The two of you make up until the next time, then the cycle repeats.

You were almost numb to it at this point.

It used to be fun fighting with Jumin at first, if you could even call it that. It never lasted for too long, never too harsh either. You both would talk it out, laugh a little, then of course the make up afterwards was always amazing.

But now? There was nothing. No heated passion afterwards. No talking. No laughing.

Nothing.

Now you two could stay angry at each other for days on end until eventually one of you got tired of it, usually you. And someone halfheartedly apologizes, again, usually you. There was no communication either, you two just… go on like it never happened.

But it did happen.

It does happen.

And it’s getting harder and harder to pretend it doesn’t.

You heard footsteps coming from the kitchen, getting louder every second that passed. A soft sigh left your chest as you kept your eyes closed, maybe he would go away if you closed them tight enough, you could only hope.

It's Jumin. That’s your husband. You should never feel that way about him. But yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t.

You opened your eyes slowly and watched as he sat on the chair across from you, crossing his ankles in a somewhat sophisticated manner before slowly looking you up and down. The position you had wasn’t ladylike if you were being frank, your legs spread out despite the smaller dress you wore, arms sprawled out across the back of the couch, your posture slouched deep into the cushions. It felt a bit judgemental the way he observed you, maybe not, but right now you genuinely couldn’t tell.

“Feeling better?”

“Oh fuck off.”

You spat in return with a bitter laugh, god how you hated when he said shit like that during times like these. You knew that he knew you hated it too. Enter the pushing of buttons.

“I was simply asking a question. No need to get so worked up, my dear.”

He focused his attention on the dark liquid swirling within his glass while he spoke, putting emphasis on the pet name, feigning fondness. You narrowed your eyes in return.

“I feel great, especially good knowing that i’m not the one in the wrong here.”

While you beamed, he tensed.

You shouldn’t have said that. You knew you shouldn’t have the second it came out of your mouth.

“A lot of confidence coming from a woman who was acting like a little whore less than an hour ago.”

He suddenly met your gaze, your eyes widened as you felt anger begin to flood your chest. Jumin had never called you something like that before.

“Excuse me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Your voice was laced with offense, rage, maybe a bit of hurt if he cared to listen closely enough. But inside you knew he didn’t. You had gotten up from your place on the couch so quickly it had made you light headed for a few moments.

“Apparently something since you feel the need to flirt with any man you can get you hands on whenever I'm not around.”

Jumin looked up at you, you looked back down at him.

You were silent for a moment.

Processing things, taking it all in. Trying your hardest not to lose your cool, you just knew once you lost it he would have the upper hand. Don't lose your cool MC, please, you mentally chided. You inhaled deeply, exhaling even deeper as you took a quick breather.

“Look. I know how hard you’ve been working on this project okay, I didn’t want to fuck it up by saying something wrong to the guy or anything, I didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, Jumin.”

You pleaded almost pathetically. Here it goes. This is the part where you usually start to apologize.

“Please, dont pretend like you’ve ever had my best interest in mind.” He said with a bitter laugh.

His laugh stung.

It was the thing to finally push you over the edge.

“You know what, I really, really wish I didn’t. If you cared enough to pay attention you’d see i’m always putting your best interest first and it makes my life miserable, absolutely fucking miserable Jumin! I can't even speak to another man without you getting all insecure and pissed off about it, and guess what happens after that? You make me feel fucking insane when i’ve done nothing wrong!”

You shouted, vented, spilt things you’d never even said out loud before.

“I don't even want to go outside anymore because I just know i’m going to do something that’ll make you mad, and you know what? I’m the person who has to apologize for it. Every single time. I’m the person who ends up comforting you even after you spend hours making me feel like i’m some whore or a broken fucking toy you only keep around because you’re scared of being alone again. It’s always me, me! It’s never you! I am so, so fucking tired of yo- this.”

He met your eyes, they were wide with surprise, shock, maybe even anger, but honestly you didn’t have the energy to care about his feelings right now. You couldn’t. It’s all you ever do, and it’s taking its toll on you. It’s too much.

Your slip up felt heavy in your throat. An apology almost spilt from your lips, but you stopped yourself before it had.

“This. I am so tired of this.”

You corrected yourself much quieter this time. It sounded so desperate, so empty.

The both of you sat in heavy silence once more. Exhaustion was slowly creeping its way into your body, mentally and physically.

You regretted all of your words almost instantly.

They weren’t false. But that only made you feel worse.

“MC.”

He spoke up after a few moments.

“Jumin.”

You replied calmly.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He genuinely seemed confused as he spoke, nervous, scared. On the inside you knew that he knew. He just wanted clarity, confirmation on what your words truly meant. It annoyed you, you had just explained exactly what you meant. But with a sigh, you held back your frustrations.

“Jumin. I am tired of this.”

You put emphasis on it, weakly pointing between the two of you. Eyes beginning to well with tears that you tried your hardest to shove away, your voice sounded so raw from yelling before, It hurt your own ears to listen to it.

A flash of guilt rapidly spread across his features, the glass in his hand shook slightly as he soaked in the true meaning behind your words. You were starting to feel guilty, he looked… scared. Your heart hurt looking at him in such a state right now.

His features softened as he met your eyes, he swallowed thickly. He looked like the old Jumin for a second again.

“MC, I’m–“

You cut him off with a shake of your head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of your mouth,

“You’re so sorry. I know. You always do that. You put me through all of this only to apologize the second I say something that makes you even the slightest bit nervous.”

He broke away from your gaze like it had burned, instead staring down at the red liquid resting within his glass. His jaw was clenched again.

When you first entered a relationship with Jumin, you knew the kind of person he was. And at the time, you really thought you were okay with that.

He had a lot to work through, you knew.

You could help, you told yourself, you told him. You’d be there for him while he figured things out, it would get better, as long as you were there for him, he would get better.

And he did. For the first year at least.

But now, things were different. So different.

You would start to laugh at the cashier's jokes too loudly for his liking. He would grab your arm a little tighter than usual, a silent warning, and you would quickly stop.

If you entertained Zen’s antics a few times too many, he would give you the silent treatment. Eventually your relationship with Zen had suffered in the long run, it was just better for Jumin’s sake if you two didn’t talk anymore.

Is it better for your sake, MC?

You remember Zen asking, but you couldn’t answer him.

Now it’s gotten to the point where you can’t even look at another man for a few seconds too long or else it turns into another argument.

Sorry didn’t feel comforting anymore.

After all, nothing changed afterwards, so did he ever really mean it?

They were just empty words to you now.

He’ll grow out of it, right?

That’s what you wanted to believe at the beginning. But how long would it take before he did? If he ever did? You didn’t know if you’d be able to stick around long enough to find that out.

“Jumin I’m not sure… if this is…”

working anymore.

The words just wouldn’t leave your throat. But still, he knew. And you knew that he knew.

You took a few steps back with a sigh.

Something had triggered within your husband as he grasped the gravity of the situation, the implication behind your words, the consequences of his actions. He dropped the wine glass to the floor, making you jump from the awful sound it made as it shattered against the hardwood.

“You can’t leave.”

His eyes were wide as his head shook frantically, his expression took you by surprise, you could see panic claw their way into his features.

“Jumin.”

“No. Don’t– Don't leave. I’m sorry, I'm so sorry.”

He was on you in an instant, you knew he stepped on the glass judging by the sound it made, but yet he didn’t even flinch. You didn’t have time to process anything before he was holding you tightly against his chest, you couldn’t go anywhere even if you tried to, the pressure hurt a little.

“We’re fine.”

His voice was shaky as he comforted himself more than anyone, it had an uncertain edge to it, painfully reminding you back to the first time you had stayed in his apartment. It made you more than a little nervous.

“This won’t happen again. Just don't leave. Don't leave me.”

Jumin rambled uncharacteristically, apologizing relentlessly as he buried his face into the top of your hair, his hands coming to hold the back of your head softly, pulling you into his chest. The sudden shift in his mood was enough to give you whiplash, you felt so much, too fast. Confused, guilty, scared, numb. Surprise wasn’t one of them though, no. It’s always like this.

You could hear him swallow thickly while he shakily ran his fingers through your hair, his racing heartbeat filling all your senses. You couldn’t help but notice his embrace didn’t feel as comfortable as it once did, it was unfamiliar to you.

Your silence only made him even more nervous.

He leaned down to kiss your cheek, your jawline, your temple, your forehead. You felt his tears press against your skin. He kissed your lips next, it was sloppy, panicked, filled with emotion. A sharp contrast to the Jumin you’ve been used to these past few months. Past few hours.

You didn’t react.

You didn’t kiss him back.

There was no spark to his touch like there should be. Like there used to be.

Your stomach was reeling, your ears were ringing. You suddenly buried your face into Jumin’s chest without warning, sobbing so hard that your head felt like it was about to burst from the pressure of your tears, your husband instead took this as a good sign. He hushed you with more of his frantic apologizes, but to be honest you weren’t really listening to him right now. Your mind only focused on one realization as you broke down within your husband's cold embrace.

“I love you.”

He whispered into your hair, you could tell by his tone that he really did mean it too. He cried with you even. Something he’d only done a few times in the relationship before.

You knew he did. You knew deep down, he loved you.

All you could offer in return was a nod. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. Just nod.

You realized something in that moment.

You weren’t able to say I love you back to your husband anymore.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #jumin han #jumin han mystic messenger #han jumin #jumin x mc #jumin x mc mystic messenger #jumin han mysme #jumin han mm #jumin mm #mysmeangstweek #my first ever angst omg i hope it’s okay #left it open for a part two. maybe. dont count on it.#yay i went back and edited this #sorry if you read the last version sbkshdj there was a lot of mistakes

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

in cinders | 4 | machinations

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Kamiko was a nightmare the next morning.

She draped herself obnoxiously all over the kitchens, declaring to anyone who would listen that she had overheard a provocative rumor as she changed Countess Asui’s bedwarmer that morning. When asked, she would refuse to share, claiming it was too big to spill until everyone was gathered for the morning meal.

You let out a disinterested yawn as you rolled out the dough for Rikido’s famous morning buns. This was your favorite of your duties when you couldn’t be with Ochako, rolling out pastry crusts or--when it was for bread--shaping the dough into various knots and boules. Rikido didn’t yet trust you to mix the dough itself, but you liked kneading it and setting it into the ovens early in the morning. Leaning into the warm stone of the ovens and letting the yeasty scent of baking bread wash over you was a good way to wake up in the winter months, particularly after nights like the one before.

You hadn’t slept well, after everything. In the middle of the night you’d awoken, feeling Prince Shouto’s fingers at your sleeve. You’d sat up in bed, your blood pulsing in your ears, and stared into the darkness, listening to Ochako’s heavy breaths.

It occurred to you that you should have made her stay longer. The little time you’d spent at the ball, you’d taken too much of the prince’s attention and not nearly enough had been dedicated to her. It had been clear from the moment he’d set eyes on Ochako that he’d found her beautiful, looking her over and complimenting her necklace. Then she’d possibly run from him in shyness, and you swooped in to complicate the whole evening, sticking your foot in your mouth and almost blowing your cover.

If only you’d kept your head and forced her to stay behind, she could have asked him to a dance for real.

You gnashed your teeth, the fantasy of Princess Ochako fading before your very eyes. How were you to spend your days languishing in her chambers with a good book, calling on Kamiko for increasingly more unnecessary things now?

Finally, the swell of servants in the kitchen seemed to satisfy Kamiko’s appetite for theatrics. She stationed herself at the head of the meal table, tapping her fork on her glass to call for attention.

“I’ve heard a very interesting rumor,” she announced, and every pair of eyes snapped to her. Despite yourself, yours did too.

“Lady Asui overheard the prince last night at the ball. Apparently, he was looking high and low for a maiden who’d caught his fancy.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Kamiko continued, unwary of your inner turmoil. “He described her as a lady of unusual tastes, and from what he could tell, quite pretty.”

“Welcome, Lady Uraraka. I must compliment you on your choice of jewelry. Your necklace is quite unique and beautiful.”

Your heart shuddered back to life, pounding heavily in your chest. A warm feeling like hope blossomed within you.

Ochako. He was looking for Ochako.

The sound of your heart pumping in your chest seemed to drown out the rest of what Kamiko was saying, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile.

This was your chance to make it up to Ochako.

As discreetly as you could, you slipped out of the kitchens, bounding down the staircase to the small room you shared with her. You let yourself in, finding the room empty, and leaned down to dig beneath her mattress. Finally, you felt what you had been looking for, pulling back with her ribbon necklace in hand.

You stowed it in your apron and made your way back to the kitchens, your plan singing in your veins. There was no way for someone like you to access the prince directly, but there was a shortcut to lead him down into the kitchens and straight to Ochako.

Kamiko was still holding forth at the table when you returned, though she spared a moment to toss you a nasty glance.

You let it roll off you and you retrieved the morning buns from the oven.

You made sure to watch Rikido carefully after he returned from his breakfast, pretending to peel carrots as you stealthily observed him plating up the prince’s breakfast. None but Rikido was allowed to touch the royal family’s trays before they were carried up to their quarters, as he trusted no one but himself to arrange the food pleasingly and deliciously. But even he couldn’t watch the trays forever.

In the spare minute between when Rikido turned his back and the servers came to call, you crept surreptitiously over to the counter, tucking Ochako’s necklace carefully out of sight beneath the large morning bun on Prince Shouto’s tray.

Then you returned to the sink, picking up your carrots to begin shucking for real.

The servers came to pick up the trays, and for the next half hour you waited excitedly, watching Ochako scrubbing out pans in the corner. In only moments, you were sure, the prince would sweep into the kitchens and take her into his arms. Then they would be married, and Ochako would live happily ever after.

Only, it wasn’t the prince who turned up in the kitchens.

The door smashed open, and a squadron of the king’s guard poured into the room. Behind them, Captain Katsuki Bakugou himself stalked into the room, blood-red gaze sweeping the occupants. He exuded raw power at close range, and you understood immediately why Kaminari had been so scared to leave his post the night before.

“Everyone who touched the prince’s food this morning, line up against the wall,” he growled. The entire room stood frozen, staring at him.

“NOW!” He yelled, and like a dam breaking, everyone rushed to obey. In mere seconds, Prince Shouto’s waiter, Rikido, and another kitchen girl were up against the wall, everyone else backing away to the other side of the room. You stood frozen at the sink, too terrified to move.

Captain Bakugou turned his crimson gaze on you. “You, girl. What do you do?”

You stammered, “I clean, and I--I help bake the pastries.”

He gestured with his sword. “Up against the wall.”

You moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other kitchen maid. The king’s guardsmen stepped up to you and the other servants, and one grasped your shoulder in an unyielding hold. Then you were moving, being led out of the kitchens and up into the bright light of the castle.

Your stomach twisted like the series of halls and stairways you were ushered through.

Why had the prince sent the commander of the guard? Wasn’t he supposed to be in love with Ochako? Why hadn’t he come for her?

Before you knew it, your small group was standing before the door to the prince’s apartments. You’d never been this deep in the palace before, and everything seemed to dwarf the cramped hallways of the servants’ wing. Even the door you stood before was twice a man’s height and almost as broad across.

Captain Bakugou rapped firmly on the door and it opened inwards.

You were tugged in by the strap of your apron and thrust to your knees with the other kitchen staff.

The prince’s chambers spread out before you, so large they could fit the kitchens three times over. You looked to be in a sitting room, peppered with low tables and couches overstuffed with bright pillows. A large, ornate writing desk sat against one corner, covered in papers. On the far wall, a series of double doors lay open, leading deeper into his apartments. You caught a glance of a four postered bed deep within, covers dripping off the sides to lay crumbled on the floor like they had been kicked off in haste.

Prince Shouto himself sat on one of the couches, looking as though he’d dressed in a hurry. He was accompanied as ever by Izuku Midoriya, and at his right sat Lady Camie Utsushimi and one of her ladies-in-waiting you didn’t know.

“This is unnecessary, Bakugou,” the prince sighed in his soft tone. “It was a necklace.”

The captain snarled. “It could have just as easily been poison.”

The prince closed his gray and blue eyes. “But it wasn’t.”

Bakugou scoffed. “They try anything funny and I’ll run them straight through.”

You shivered on the floor. You felt miserably sorry to the other staff on their knees beside you, threatened with death here on the hardwood because of a stupid choice you’d made. Of course the royal guard would work themselves into a frenzy over something in the prince’s food. Why hadn’t you thought this through?

Prince Shouto turned to the four of you, holding up a familiar pink pearl necklace. “I found this on my tray this morning. I believe it belongs to a lady I met at the ball last night. I promise you no trouble if any of you come forward with information.”

If ever the time to speak up were to come, it would be now. But found yourself holding your tongue, eyeing Captain Bakugou’s sharp sword.

You looked up into the faces of the prince’s companions. Lady Utsushimi’s eyes were wandering carefully between the faces of the staff, and she seemed to stop in surprise when her gaze flicked to you.

You felt yourself stiffen under the guardsman’s hands.

“Please,” the prince continued. “She has a companion who I must find. She seemed rather insistent that I talk with the lady to whom this necklace belongs. Did she ask any of you to place this on my tray?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. He was talking about you. Dear god, he was talking about you.

What had you done to make him so keen to find you? Had it been the rough way you spoke to him or the stomping on his toes? Did he guess that you were a servant acting above your station? What was he going to do once he found you? Was Captain Bakugou here to deliver the prince’s justice upon you?

A silver ribbon appeared in the prince’s clever fingers. “Last night, she was wearing a blue dress with these about her sleeves. Camie tells me she might go by Lady Ito. Have any of you seen her?”

You looked up into his handsome face, feeling sick. Please don’t say Kamiko’s full name, please don’t say it. Not in front of the staff.

“Your highness,” Rikido’s shaky voice came from beside you, “I was the last to touch your tray. The fault of this is mine. I will accept any punishment you see befitting of my inattention.”

In the corner of your vision, Bakugou’s sword hand twitched. Rikido was going to get himself killed!

Before you could think, you had shot to your feet. “Please, it wasn’t him! It was me!"

Then the reality of your words washed over you and you quickly backpeddled, "I mean - I was the last to touch your tray. I - I sprinkled more sugar over your bun while his back was turned. But I swear, none of us were asked to add this to your tray!”

The prince’s cool gaze turned on you. You stared back, heart hammering.

If you made it through this alive, you were never trying something this stupid again.

His eyes wandered over you slowly, and you felt your face burn. You hoped your mask had covered enough of you last night that he saw nothing familiar to him. You hoped the sight of you now, covered in flour and carrot shavings, was enough to throw off any suspicions.

“Tell us, why should the prince believe you?” Lady Utsushimi’s attendant spoke up. Her tone was high and cruel. “It’s clear that one of you must have done it.”

You swallowed. You pitched your voice a little lower to hide it, now that the prince’s attentions were on you and you were thinking a little more clearly. “If I touched the tray while Rikido’s back was turned, there’s no reason why someone else couldn’t have done the same. Perhaps they were laying in wait.”

The lady sniffed, but Prince Shouto held up a hand.

“If I’m to trust your word, I’d like you all to swear to it,” he said.

You nodded, and other kitchen staff quickly did as well.

“You swear that no one asked you to add this necklace to my tray?”

Your voices blended together as you answered, “I swear it, highness.”

I wasn’t asked. I added it myself.

After that, the purpose seemed to drain from the prince’s lean form, and he waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your morning. Captain Bakugou, please return them to the kitchens.”

Bakugou made an angry noise, but the guardsmen picked your fellow servants up off the floor to their feet and ushered you to the doorway. Your blood rushed in your veins as you stepped back through the massive doors, staring fixedly at Rikido’s back ahead of you.

As the doors closed, however, you swore you could sense a pair of eyes boring into your back.

#bnha #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #fanfic #todoroki shouto #boku no hero academia

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readerinsertfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Nemo darling! ❤❤❤🥺 hehehe thats height tag is so cursed, freaken exposing how much taller i am than all my best boys //pouts🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 hehehe so here im to spam my favorite cutie❤❤🌈 could i pretty please with sprinkles ontop request a Hc with ma best bois (Theodorkus, Napoleon, Kenshin, annnnd Yuki❤❤❤) reacting to one tall bean s/o🥺❤❤🌻😆 here is some inspiration for ya 😆😳😳😳

This damn cursed chart! Why can these bois eat more candy to grow big and stong 😆😂😂😂

Hehehe love you lots nemo dear❤❤❤🥺🥺 hope ya getting plenty of sleep and eating all the candy❤❤❤😳

Can’t relate. I never have to worry about someone being shorter than me. 🤩🤩🤩 No, I’m not gonna share my chart with Tumblr.

Donate some height to the ones in need? 🤪🤪🤪

Also, Zeta-dearest, Theodorkus already got HC’s versus a tall!MC, remember? Though that has been almost a year ago, so ... 🤪🤪🤪

(I also gave him some extra attention to make up for bullying you so much last night, love ya Zeta-darling! 💖💖💖)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire & Ikemen Sengoku

Characters: Theodorus van Gogh, Napoleon Bonaparte, Yukimura Sanada & Kenshin Uesugi

The modern age came with many advancements that improved life and with that improvement came gradual changes. Most notably the average height. While short people still existed you were not to be counted amongst them. You were an outlier of a different kind, being taller than most and much to your dismay that meant travelling back into time made you stick out even more.

Theodorus

“Hey vuurtoren.”

The unflattering nickname came from a certain Dutch. Where most of Theo’s nicknames were usually small and somewhat cute he was an absolute nightmare to you, sparing no chance whatsoever to remind you of your height with the starkest names.

“Yes, you bonenstaak!” Theo called as he approached you.

Rolling your eyes you didn’t want to give into Theo’s creative naming, continuing to stride away as you heard his step quicken.

“Hey, I was calling you!” the man grabs hold of your arm once he catches up, pulling you to a halt as he eyes you up, a frown on his face signifying that he very much knew what you were playing at, “seems like some—“

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you all the way down there,” you respond airily, confounding the man who stares at you first in surprise and then with a deepening frown.

“What did you—“

“Better take some distance, little one. I might trip over you,” you continue to interrupt the guy as you pat the top of his head. Two could play the game.

“Also, looking sorta out of breath, did you run to keep up?”

The smile you flashed at him coloured him a fine red as the man was thinking on how to get back at you the next round.

Napoleon

The little general, as he was lovingly nicknamed by his troops, was used to being surrounded by people taller than him. After all, the nickname did suggest his fair share of neck craning and the man knew himself to average in height and tall enough. You being the same height as him didn’t even cross him as strange.

“Snnrk,” the snort escaped the man as he listened to you putting Theo back in his spot. It was no secret that you had your fair share of retorts, proud of the height you had reached and knowing that it came from a place of envy from the other. That didn’t mean that it didn’t amuse him however.

“Don’t worry, you will always be my petite bouffon,” the man tells you jestingly.

Kenshin

He had noticed how he had to lift his eyes up ever so slightly to meet your eyes. It was a fact that did not escape him, nor did Kenshin miss out on the fact that your shoulder was positioned just a little higher than his as well. Yet, it didn’t bother him, not even in the least.

“Extra fabric? What happened to the ordered piece?” Kenshin’s eyes narrowed at the maid when he was informed that your present had to be patched up with an extra row of fabric, for they had not measured it well and made it too short.

“The measurements were clear and so were the instructions. Remake the kimono, I’m not going to gift a patchwork because of your inability to adjust.”

At times Kenshin reminded the whole castle that it was not just his sword that he kept sharp and that size and height did not matter when one carried an air such as his. The room was too small anyway when one managed to annoy the warlord, especially when it came down to you.

Yukimura

“What’s going on?”

Yukimura appeared from behind you as he arched his neck to look over your shoulder. The crowd was quite thick and the shoulders bumped into each other, it had been an honest unconscious reaction, but one that earned a wide blush on his face.

“Oh geez, step aside,” the male bristles instead, a frown on his face as he shoves himself between you and the crowd, effectively pressing you against his chest when he finally got a more comfortable space to watch from.

“For someone as tall as you, you certainly are clueless on how to protect yourself,” he tells you. The warlord would never admit how your height made him a little self-conscious of himself, leading to a need for compensation, silly as they are.

#ikevamp theo #ikevamp napoleon #ikesen yukimura #ikesen kenshin #ikevam theo #ikevam napoleon #ikemen vampire #ikemen sengoku #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen sengoku yukimura #ikemen sengoku kenshin

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braindeadskeletons · 4 years ago

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Introduction Post!

Hey everybody! So I decided that I'd settle down and properly do an introduction post. It's something I've been wanting to do for a while but just haven't gotten around to doing it. Now that there's quite a few of you guys (many that I'm now personally friends with!) I decided it's about time that you get to know me a bit. If you'd like to know more about me read below the cut!

Hi! My name is Mina, formerly known as Brain! I’ll still answer to the name Brain but I prefer Mina :) Whatever name you want to throw at me via inbox will work really. My pronouns are she/her and he/him. You can switch between both or just stick to one. Doesn’t make a difference!

I'm also known as The Condiment Queen or Mustard Monarch

(if you know you know)

This is my cutie 'mascot' I guess you could call it. Sona? I don't really know. She's a mixture of those plague doctors designs and a shy guy from mario! I've had her for years with no real use until now. I'm just happy that she has a purpose now!

(I had a picture with her color palette but I lost it. Whoops. She's basically just got a white mask and her robes are dark purple if anybody was curious. My babe is also super tiny. Half of Sans' height if I had to put it to a scale that everyone here would understand. Idk I just like knowing dumb details like that about mascots/sonas.)

To be honest the main thing that encouraged me to actually do this post is when I was asked for a face reveal and I realized hey uh,,,I'm highly uncomfortable doing that?? So here's my little gal that'll take my place where my face should be! Hope that doesn't disappoint anybody too badly lmao.

Some Facts about me!

I don't feel comfortable sharing my exact age but I'm a minor! Please keep that in mind as you interact with me. I don't mind people who are 18+ speaking to me or interacting but just be mindful of the ages when you do!

(Highly doubt that any of you will be weird about this fact but you never know. Tumblr has some real weirdos roaming around.)

My favorite skellie boys are UF! Sans, MF! Sans and HT! Sans. Not really an important fact but I just feel like you can tell a lot about a person from skeleton preference alone so there's that if you were curious for any reason.

I'm also a cancer! My birthday falls on July 15th. Once again, not really an important fact but if you're the person who analyzes based off of zodiac alone there you go. No I'm not a whiny little shit who cries at the drop of a hat over anything I swear;;

This is a lgbtq+ positive blog! I accept everybody on here <3

Unless you're a pedophile trying to pose as lgbtq+ aka those weird ass "MAPs" You have no place here. See yourself the fuck off of my blog.

Anyhow! I'm bisexual, bigender and polyamourus! I have three wonderful S/Os named V, Monty and Blue! I love all three of them a whole bunch so if you hurt any of them I'm gonna kick your ass!! Yeah I'm only like 5'1 and can't do real damage or so you may think but I'll break your kneecaps. I'll find a way <3

I'm currently developing a new au called 'Underemedy!' I can't elaborate much on this project but one day I'll be creating a masterpost on this au to share with everyone! So until then I hope you're all excited for whenever that comes out!! I've been working with a wonderful team of people on this (who will all be tagged properly on the masterpost) and we're all very excited to get this out to you guys!

I’m also one of the mods of the blog @badtotheeyepatch! I’m working with the lovely Snazz on this room mate self insert au that we’re super excited to share with you all! At the time of me writing this we’re only at the beginning of this project and I’m super excited to get the story out there for everyone to see! I’d really appreciate it if you would consider checking out both blogs! Even if you aren’t interested in any kind of self insert au there’s plenty more content that could be your taste that I highly recommend checking out!

Additionally I’m one of the members of the X Reader Squad! The squad is made up of Brain (that me), Viper, Jacket and Rainy! You can find the link to Viper’s blog higher up on this post ^^^ while you can find Jacket here and Rainy here.

[This section of the masterpost will be edited properly once I got a good idea of how this section will look! Big project on the way that’ll be taking this spot once it’s ready to release.]

I created this blog with the goal to make people smile!! That's seriously what I wake up everyday to do like I hop on here so excited to see how you guys are doing and interact with you all!! My main content is incorrect undertale quotes but I can also do quote requests for certain characters, matchups (when I get the motivation to work on them), headcanons, and possibly more in the future! Depends on what you're all interested in seeing! Any and all suggestions are on the table!

With all of that aside I think that's all you need to know?? If you can think of something I should add to this because you wanna know just holler at me. I was kinda just going along with whatever came to mind to say lmao so this is a bit of a mess. Probably left some stuff out.

Anyhow! That's it for me! If you made it this far thank you so much for reading all the way through, it means a lot! I'll see you all around <3

#Brain Speaks #It's done!!#don't talk about how I can't draw hands #bc dear god i k n o w already #hands suck #anyhow as i mentioned before if you'd like to know anything else let me know!!#I'll answer what I can and maybe edit this post a bit #no idea!#this is so weird to make djghsfg #but im glad i did #its abt damn time

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its-a-novelist-girl · 5 years ago

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Never Have I Ever

Chapter Two

Chapter One

Summary: A virgin, 20-year-old Damian with too many trust issues to let a girl get too close is constantly teased by his brothers for spending so much time with his female best friend, Y/N. During a game of never have I ever, Y/n is shocked to find that her incredibly good looking best friend has never had more than a brief kiss. Y/n starts to think and she might have a proposition that Damian can’t say no to.

(Disclaimer/Notes): I own nothing of DC characters. This will be partly comic cannon and partly my own. I have never posted like this on here so please be patient with me as I learn.

(Tags): @theyellowfeverexperience, @ginevraxrogers, @lilsxtan, @idkmanicantenglish, I’m sorry if I missed anyone!

This is a filler chapter before we get into the good stuff. Also did anyone catch who Damian's phone service provider is? And what it could possibly stand for? Hope you enjoy!

You woke up the next morning to a text from Damian that said he wanted to meet at a local coffee shop to talk. You had to admit you were nervous as hell as you wondered what Damian would say. You texted your best friend at almost 3 am to say that if he wanted to have sex that you would gladly volunteer, and all that he replies back with is him asking to get coffee. You really were out of your mind.

You don’t know what came over yourself last night to text him what you did. At the time in your groggy sleepy mind, it made perfect sense. You were the only person Damian trusted to be vulnerable around so, therefore, you could be the person that he would lose his virginity to. What were you thinking?

You cursed yourself all morning as you reluctantly got ready to meet for coffee. You messaged him back and told him to meet you at the coffee shop a few blocks from your apartment at 10:30. Which gave you just enough time to shower, dry your hair, put on a bit of makeup, and get dressed, all while wondering if you had completely messed up everything. Damian would most likely put you down gently, politely state that you aren’t his time and didn’t see you that way, and go on pretending this never happened.

You had to admit that you weren’t exactly on Damian’s level. You thought you looked beautiful, however, very average. Average height, average eye color, average body type. Damian was an adonis. Beautiful and powerful in every aspect. His whole body demanded respect and when he walked into a room he suddenly owned it. His whole family was like that. Even though they were all adopted by his dad, his brothers and sisters were just undeniable gorgeous. You wondered if they shared a skin routine or if vigilantism was just great for your skin.

You worried that you might be losing your best friend. Being shot down you could handle. It would hurt like hell but you could handle it. Brush it off with a joke and then you both just never speak of it again. However if this changed things between you, you could lose Damian entirely, and that’s something you just couldn’t handle. Damian was your rock and your biggest supporter. He was the person you told everything to. He was the person that you would call when you were sitting on your bathroom floor crying when life just got too overwhelming. You needed him.

You decide on a simple outfit of sneakers, black jeans, and a t-shirt on it with a yellow bat symbol on it. It was a common shirt for Gotham, and it made Damian laugh every time you wore it. You wore it today to judge how the conversation would go. If he laughed then you were in the clear, if he didn’t laugh you would start to mentally prepare yourself for the worst. You brushed your hair and gave yourself one final head nod of encouragement in the mirror before you grabbed your bag and headed out the door before you could change your mind.

The walk to the coffee shop wasn’t long and soon you were stepping through the front door. Your eyes immediately scanned the small shop and landed on a very deadpan looking Damian in the far corner. He was sitting up straight as a rod, checking the time on his watch, with two drinks in front of him. Of course, he would get there early. You started walking in his direction and his eyes immediately picked up the movement. You meet his eyes briefly before he glanced at what you were wearing. Damian’s eyes lit up and he chuckled lowly while shaking his head in an exasperated manner. You decided that the noise was magical as it lifted the worry from your shoulders.

You sat down in the chair in front of him thanking him as he slid over your favorite order. After a few beats of you both silently drinking your respective drinks, you decided to speak. “So Dami, what brings us here on this lovely Saturday morning,” you asked.

“I think you and I both know why we are here,” he said with a small smile and the slightest waver in his voice.

“Look its fine if you don’t want my offer,” you start but you are quickly cut off by Damian.

“No, it’s not that. I just want to make sure we are on the same page and I would rather do that in person. I want to know exactly what it is that you are offering before I agree.” he explained relaxing into his chair a little more when you smiled at him.

“I’m offering anything you want Damian,” You said.

“I would rather hear it in your words if you don’t mind,” He said.

You gave him a small smile and said “I’m offering to be the person you can trust to be vulnerable with. I’m offering to be your firsts of however much you want. However much you feel comfortable with.”

He thought about this for a moment, watching the small crowd in the coffee shop, and then finally leaned his elbows on the table to lean towards you, looking at the table said in a quiet voice “And that’s something that you would enjoy as well?”

There’s your Damian, asking to make sure you would enjoy yourself too, even though you were the one that offered. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with this and make sure that by accepting your offer he wouldn’t be taking advantage of you or forcing you into something you wouldn’t be comfortable with.

You reached across the table and gently placed your hand on top of his, stroking your thumb against his wrist once before answering.

“Yes”

He then asked, “And you would tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable or if you wanted this to stop at any time?”

You could have laughed at the thought of wanting to stop anything with him if his eyes weren’t so serious. If you couldn’t see the worry in his face as his eyes continued to burn a hole into the table. The idea that you could have Damian touching you, kissing you, and in your bed was something you don’t think you would ever want to stop once you started. It was a dangerous game to play, having developed a slight crush on your best friend over the years, but this wasn’t about you. This was about Damian.

“Yes. This is going to require communication from both of us to work, but I promise you that I will be completely open and honest about everything”, you said with as much reassurance as you could possibly give.

He lifted his head and your eyes met. His rich green eyes searched yours for something. Any doubt or hesitation or fear, but when he found nothing but confidence, strength, and sincerity he smiled.

He leaned back in his chair crossing his arms in front of his chest as he cleared his throat with a smile and said “I don’t think there is a man alive that would turn down a proposition such as this one.” he said with amusement in his voice. He looked up into your eyes and simply said: “I accept.”

#older!damian #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #older!damian wayne x reader #dc #dc comcis #batfam

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mochi-marie · 4 years ago

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❛ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . ❜

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 : 「 opened 」

there is a five character maximum per request, and a two character minimum! the only exception would be for requests like : “ ( character ) as a boyfriend ”, etc!

you must specify the gender of the s/o, whether that be female, gender neutral, or male! just specify, or else it will default to gender neutral!

you may request the same topic for different characters, meaning you can request part-two’s or part-three’s, etc! piggy-backing off of this, you may also request most-to-least likely asks!

i only write for boku no hero academia and haikyuu!!, so please don’t request another fandom! all requests will be written pre time-skip ( as i myself am a highschool student ), unless you specify time-skip or i mention that they are time-skip in the author’s note!

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇-𝐔𝐏𝐒 : 「 closed 」

word of notice — everything written below is a requirement unless stated otherwise! if you do not fill out all the requirements, i will simply delete your ask!

please include your sexuality / gender preference for the match-up, as well as your pronouns! if you aren’t comfortable with sharing your sexuality, please just say what gender you would prefer for the match-up!

include a thorough description of your physical appearance, including but not limited to — height, body shape ( if comfortable, if not, don’t worry about it <3 ), eye color, hair color + length + texture, etcetera!

include any physical signature item or marking that you think makes you unique! whether it be freckles, a birth mark, scars or tattoos, or a jacket you wear often, etcetera!

give a thorough description about your personality! include your mbti, zodiac, enneagram if you know it, and then elaborate further on how you think you act day-to-day with new people versus how you act around beloved ones!

please include your hobbies! my definition of a hobby for this is an activity you do often, whether daily or weekly, and makes you happy! include your fashion style, and any big interests of yours!

tell me about you and romance! tell me your top three love languages in order, whether you’re shyer or bolder in the relationship, and what your ideal lover is like! tell me your ideal date!

( not required : ) are you an early bird or a night owl? what is one thing you cannot live without? favorite song? what is one negative trait about yourself that you think you have, if any?

please make sure you specify whether you would like a bnha or haikyuu matchup!

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇-𝐔𝐏𝐒 : 「 closed 」

again, everything written below if a requirement unless stated otherwise! make sure to include everything required!

please send in a few pictures of yourself, preferably ones that you think show you off in the best way, as well as show off who you are as a person / your vibe!

please specify if you want your pictures to remain hidden or if you are okay with letting them be seen! if you are not okay with letting them be shown, please send in another ask with no pictures attached ( you do not have to copy and paste all the information down again ), or stay off anon so i may tag you and then delete the ask with the pictures!

if you are not comfortable with sending me pictures, just include a very thorough and detailed description of yourself! i will not accept anything like : “(color) hair, (color eyes), and (height)”. i cannot work with something that small, sorry!

tell me about you and romance! tell me your top three love languages in order, whether you’re shyer or bolder in the relationship, and tell me your ideal date!

( not required : ) are you an early bird or a night owl? what is one thing you cannot live without? favorite song?

please make sure you specify whether you would like a bnha or haikyuu matchup!

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 : 「 closed 」

once more, all information below is required within the request, unless stated otherwise!

the moodboard will be 3x3, all aesthetics found off of Pinterest! please, and i repeat please, do not save the moodboard and then claim it as your own!! i spend hours working on my mood boards to find aesthetics that i like and are up to my standard ( that includes hue / tone matching to all the other aesthetics, keeping in mind information about you and your self ship, finding high-quality pictures, etc )!

send your self ship — break it down to who your self ship is with, for example mezuku ( melody x izuku ) — and then proceed to include the following :

include a description about your self-ship, what kind of relationship you both have, and an example of the kind of date you both would have!

as well, include your favorite color and your favorite aesthetic, along with some hobbies of yours and your top three love languages! also, include how you act in a relationship ( or how you think you would act in a relationship with the character of choice )!

you may choose one of your selfships per request! i only accept bnha and haikyuu as the fandoms!

#🪧 — REQUESTING GUIDE / RULES

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illusionsofdreaming · 3 years ago

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I’m Illu and this is my multi-fandom blog. I have a habit of disassociating from reality by imagining stories for my current muses. Are you here to join in my daydreams? Choose a favorite cushion, here’s some tea, let’s dream awhile together.

I work full time so my post schedule is sporadic at best. English is my third language and grammar is my worst nightmare. If you spot a mistake in my works, please be a darling and point it out.

I love chatting and listening to other people. Feel free to share your thoughts and daydreams with me any time, I’m all ears! The anonymous option is always open for the shyer introverts at the back (Hi kindred souls! I scored 98% on introversion so I get it! Here, have more tea!) and if necessary, feel free to asign yourself an emoji.

What does your blog name mean?

I started this blog back in May 2013, back then I was at the height of my dreaming career, it came to me in a fit of inspiration- Yeah, okay. I just wanted a cool and mysterious sounding blog name so I went with Illusions of Dreaming thinking I’ve hit jackpot. Years later I regret my childhood cringe naming sense having to follow me into my latter years, but the name stuck and I’m too lazy to bother with updating all my links because I changed the blog title.

Will you be writing for (X fandom) any time soon?

Maybe, maybe not, it’s all depending on my muse. I might fall out of a fandom after losing muse for it but who’s to say I won’t revisit it in the future? (unless I left that fandom for a good reason.)

Some other misc. things…

I have two miniature schnauzers named Shushi and Cola

I started this blog with the intentions of it being an art blog-

Tea > Coffee

Most of my commentary are left in the tags

Favorite Fire Emblem Awakening characters: Chrom, Gaius, Virion, Lon'qu, Henry, Morgan, Owain, Inigo

Favorite Fire Emblem Fates characters: Saizo, Niles, Asugi (PC)

Favorite Fire Emblem 3 Houses characters: Claude, Slyvain, Hilda

#about

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

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NSFW ALPHABET

MICHAEL “RIZ” ARIZA

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy, I had to do it. Gif credits to: @fromthesixteenthfloor

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Depends of the time. Usually, he helps you to clean all the mess you’ve made, having a shower together after that. Even if he’s tired, he likes to cuddle with you on bed and know how was your day, till he falls asleep between your arms and listening your soft voice.

If you do it out of home, like in a dorm of the clubhouse or at Vicki’s place, he helps you to clean yourself, before going to have two beers and bring them to the room, so he can share them with you. Then, you usually make a bet of which Mayans you’ve traumatized because of your loud moans, screaming out his name.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Of him, his chest. He actually loves his chest ‘cause it’s at the height of your face and you’re constantly kissing it and rubbing your cheeks on it, without caring about where you are, nor who is looking at you. He loves all those unexpected and sweet kisses you give him.

His favourite part of you it’s your hair. He loves the smell of it, how smooth it is, and also because he can grab it between his fingers when you’re fucking. Riz also has a rule for it. You can’t cut it more than his fist can be tangled on it. (He cried that time you cut it over your shoulders, for almost one week).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

Inside. Always inside you. He’s obsessed with the warm feeling of your legs around his waist, pounding you till he cums. The view of it, getting spilling out between your thighs is his favourite thing in the world.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Riz loves watching you kicking the shit out of Vicki’s girls when they try something with him, putting them on their place as the savage and jealous Old Lady you are, whenever someone looks at him for more than five seconds. You trust him blindly, but not them. Then, he likes to tease you about it making you lose your mind, till you ride him to make sure he’s satisfied with you. Even if you well know he is.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He knows what to do in every moment. Riz has the experience of his years, but seems like he continues learning, because he has never had to worry about the pleasure of a girl, until he met you.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Doggy style. He’s less romantic that people thinks. He likes to bite your neck, your nape and your shoulders, touring your back with his tongue and filling every inch of your skin with bruises. But when you’re about to cum, he needs to be on top of you face-to-face, looking how you bite your lips keeping your gaze on his.

Plus, he also likes when you ride him, dragging your nails on his chest, while your hips are dancing over his hard cock.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s not a clown, he’s the whole circus. He likes to make some jokes about the looks on your face, making you laugh and interrupting the ride with a “good god, mi amor, I can’t focus please turn around”.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t have much time for things like that and he also don’t care at all. But he usually keeps it a little short just for comfort, even if he has asked you thousand times how you like it like “hey, baby, it’s too long or it’s too short”. You can’t help but fuck him every time he does it, starting to think that he does it on purpose.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Depends of the moment. He usually goes hard on it, filling you with bites and some slaps on your ass, ‘cause Riz says he’s like a hungry wolf and you’re his favourite piece of meat. Does it count as romantic? No? Well, he is after being one or two weeks out of home. He becomes the most romantic man on earth, wanting to let you know how much he loves you and how much he missed you, covering every inch of your skin with lovely kisses as he makes you love.

J = Jack/Jill Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s not comfortable jacking himself off. He used to, but not now. He likes your body under his, your lips taking away his breath and every touch that gives him pleasant chills. But if he feels needy when he’s out of Santo Padre, he fucks off the crew to facetime with you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Riz favourite thing is watching you walking in slow-motion, in front of everyone and playing the innocent till you lean to his ear, just to beg him to fuck you. Probably you’re gonna have to stop doing it when he passes his 60s, or you’re gonna provoke him a heart-attack. He’s a God’s blessing. So keep safe your man, lady, please.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Wherever. He doesn’t care. Riz is always ready to please you at bed, in a bathroom, in your car… Even on top of his bike.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He doesn't need motivation. Is he breathing? Then he’s ready for you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never do anything that could hurt you, bother you or make you feel angry. Under any concept. He wants to make you feel loved and desired at all cost, so that’s not an option.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Let’s be realistic, Riz goes crazy every time you make his hard cock disappear between your warm and wet lips, pressing his skin with your tongue till his hand pushes it to your throat. But he’s most the kind who prefers to eat you out. He likes how you taste, the way you have of squirm under his hands, begging for more and more. Thursday is your favourite day of the week, ‘cause he usually wakes you up with his lips sucking gently your clit. It’s a blessing.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s mostly rough. He has too much desire contained because of you, that he can’t help but pounding you hard with his fingers tangled on your hair, pulling it back to him. Except when he’s back home from a travel, then Riz takes his time enjoying every part of your body. Especially marking your neck with a bruise collar.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Yes, he loves it. He’s always desperate to feel you, no matter if it’s a pre-game or playing the whole match. He’s on it whenever you want it.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s a little classic, and that’s not a weakness. But if you want to experiment with a position, he would do whatever to please you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Usually Riz is in the good mood to do it two times per day. One fast, rough, full of pleasure at any moment of the day. And one by night kinda slow, taking his time to enjoy every moan and every gasp you do, on your bed.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No. Absolutely not. He’s the kind who thinks he’s good enough to please you with his fingers, his tongue ad his cock. Use toys is like setting on fire his ego, making him feel insecure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot. Like a lot. When you take him away, feeling angry because one of Vicki’s girl bothered you talking about him, he loves to tease you. So you ride him rough.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Bishop told you once he used to be so fucking loud, till he met you. That night, you asked him at home, thinking that maybe you didn’t please him as other women did. Then he said that every sound he makes, owns you. That’s why he likes to whisper it on your ears or against your lips.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

When he makes you feel angry about anything, that night Riz prepares you dinner and does with you a Disney marathon drinking Möet. You’re like a child with refined tastes.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Did you see him? He’s a fucking heaven’s gift. I don't need any more words, ladyship.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Again. Is he breathing? He’s in. Riz is your fan number one.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He usually falls asleep first, once he’s sure that you’re okay and you don’t need anything else. You hold him between your arms, as he sinks his face on your neck letting himself go listening your voice or your breath.

#mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #michael riz ariza x reader #riz ariza #michael riz ariza #riz ariza x reader

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aelia-likes-monsters · 5 years ago

Text

Virion & the #3 Sandwich (Part One)

Characters: Female Reader/Male Moth Monster, Male Bat, Genderless Forest Spirit Content: NSFW, Financial Stress, Pining, Masturbation, Illness, Sandwiches Wordcount: ~6600 Notes: Patrons got this about two weeks early, so take this as a reminder that “early stories” are one of my Patreon perks (they also got to see it while it was in WIP form). I haven’t finished the entire story, so tags are subject to change, but I’ve made a dent in Part Two. Many thanks to @monster-bait for encouraging me to keep going and being so enthusiastic about getting to read the moth story. Without her I probably wouldn't have a story to share.

This was inspired by a @monsterkinkmeme prompt. Specifically this one.

It’s pushing midnight, and you’re sitting in the gas station parking lot crying softly to yourself. You’re counting your tips and then counting them again, as though the number is going to change and you’re magically going to have even another dollar. You know that’s not how any of this works, but you keep doing it with a silent urgency as you struggle to decide what to do.

There’s a soft tap at your window. A hulking form fills the space outside, and you’d be scared, except you know who this is. It’s the attendant at the local-grocery-slash-gas-station you’re parked at. He’s a large, fluffy, humanoid moth, and you think he’s adorable.

You’re mortified that he’s seen you like this.

“I’m so sorry for loitering--” you begin as you roll down the window. You rub your hands quickly over your face, determined to look more composed than you are.

It’s been a rough month. Rent had put your account in the negative, and you’ve only got enough cash to either eat or put a gallon of gas in your car to get home, but not both. Your stomach is growling, and you’re not sure whether you’d rather go home to empty cupboards or get something from the convenience store here and sleep in your car.

“That’s not why I’m here,” He says, his voice gentle, warm, and soft as always.

“It’s not?” You ask, glancing around the empty parking lot. You’re pretty conspicuous; your car is the only one here, and you’ve been sitting here for an hour. He has every right to ask you to move along.

“I wanted to check on you.” He tells you. “Make sure you’re okay.”

With that, a fresh torrent of tears spills down your cheeks despite yourself. You sag forward against the steering wheel, and feel the leather press into your forehead. You were prepared for a scolding, but not kindness. It’s always that moment of kindness that does you in when you’re holding it together by a thread.

You hear a trill of distress from him.

“Look,” His voice penetrates your sobs. “You don’t need to tell me everything, but how about you come inside, sit down, have a snack and a cup of coffee, or cocoa or whatever you like from the hot drinks. It’ll help.”

“I… I can’t afford it.” You admit. You hate that you have to say those words, especially to him. You like him a lot, had wanted to make a good impression on him. Be friends, maybe more. Now he’s seen what a disaster you are, and that fragile hope is crumbling.

“It’s on me. I insist.”

“But…”

“You can come in and get it, or I’m bringing you cocoa and a cookie.” He says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard a stern edge to his voice. “It’s clear you need it, and it’s the least I can do for you.”

“Oh.” You wipe at your eyes again. You think about arguing, but you’re hungry, and you’re exhausted. You’ll find a way to repay him later. “Okay.”

He steps back to give you room to get out of the car, and though there’s nothing of value in there, you click the button to lock it anyway.

Once inside, he quietly ushers you to the coffee counter, and looks at you expectantly. You glance from him to the machine, and press the button for cocoa. It’s too late, and you’re too wrung out to want caffeine right now. The machine dispenses cocoa into a paper cup. The moth grabs a container, and tops it off with mini marshmallows. Despite yourself, you crack a smile.

You realize you don’t even know his name.

You’ve been coming here for a few months, since you first stumbled across this place. You’d been driving up the coast, looking for a new place to settle. You’d burned some bridges, ended a long-term relationship, and needed a fresh start, so you’d thrown everything you owned into the back of your old car and started driving. Out in the middle of the redwoods along the Pacific coast, you’d found this place.

Waitressing isn’t the sort of work you’d envisioned for yourself, but it pays the bills most of the time. Tourist season’s slowed down recently though, and the tips aren’t coming in like they had been at the height of summer. Melinda--the manager--reassured you that next month the whales migrate past and things will pick up again, but a month feels like an eternity right now.

“Do you want a sandwich?” He asks, gesturing at the deli counter behind you.

“I can’t.” You say. “I can’t pay for any of this.”

“That’s not what I asked,” He chides gently. Your eyes focus on the soft ruff of his chest, where fluffy brown fur spills over the top of his apron. His nametag says Virion. It suits him, you think. He changes tack. “What do you want on your sandwich?”

“Which one is your favorite?” You ask.

“The number three,” He says, gesturing to the board.

“I’ll take that then.” You say, not even bothering to read the ingredients.

He pauses at the sink behind the deli counter, and you hear him scrubbing his hands. You take a sip of the cocoa and watch him. He’s big, but he moves delicately. His wings are folded tightly against his body, and you can see hints of the pattern on his wings.

“Why are you being so nice?” You ask, as he starts working on your sandwich.

He shrugs, the gesture making his wings flutter, and his antennae bob a bit.

“It’s the right thing to do,” he says. “And… don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve seemed a little lost since you showed up. You’re on your own. Most other folks here have family, have friends, have someone to take care of them. But you’re alone.

“Not sure how someone as sweet as you got that way, but…” he hesitates, glances at you, then back at the food. He’s still preparing the sandwich, his hands moving steadily as he speaks. “I didn’t want you to feel alone anymore.”

There aren’t words.

You grip the warm paper cup in your hands, and study the worn linoleum beneath your feet. You can’t look at him, or you’ll start crying again. He’s sweet. There has to be a catch, right? This is a trick? This is just pity. Well, yeah, it is pity. He’s feeding you because he’s kind, and he pities you. But still. You’re too exhausted to be embarrassed, so instead you let yourself enjoy the fact that someone cares about you for the first time in a long time. You drag your finger along the cup, feeling your nail catch at the seam. You flick at it a few times.

The silence stretches, and you want to break it, but you don’t know how. So you drink your cocoa and look at things around the store. There are chips in front of the deli counter in flavors that you’re certain you couldn’t find anywhere else. Kelp flavored kettle chips aren’t a thing, but here they are in front of you. Sometimes you wonder if this grocery is in some kind of liminal space, and you’ve managed to find a path you shouldn’t have.

“Sorry,” he says, as he passes you a wrapped deli sandwich in a paper bag. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“No… it’s…” You still don’t know what to say. “I appreciate you explaining.”

His mandibles flicker in what you recognize as one of his smiles.

“You don’t owe me anything for this, okay?” He holds your gaze, and though his eyes aren’t human, there’s a depth of what you can only call humanity there. “We take care of our own here, and I wanted to make sure you were going to be alright.”

You nod.

“Now let’s put some gas in your tank and get you home safe,” He says. “If you want chips or another drink, go ahead and grab them, and meet me out front at the pump.”

You fight back tears for the hundredth time that night, grab a bag of your favorite chips--not the Kelp flavor, you’re not brave enough for that--and try to squash the guilt. As you go to stuff it in the bag you see not one, but two sandwiches. Your eyes burn. You don’t know how you’ll repay him, but you know you have to.

He fills your gas tank.

“I’m going to find a way to return the favor,” you inform him. “Somehow.”

“You don’t need to,” He says with a shrug. He tucks his hands into his pockets, and looks away from you, almost bashful.

“I know,” You offer him a shaky smile. “But I want to. Thank you for everything.”

“Alright,” He says. “You can start by getting home safe.” Virion passes you a slip of paper with his phone number on it. “Send me a message when you get home, if you don’t mind. It’s late for humans to be out, and it’d give me peace of mind.”

“Okay.” You tuck the paper into your pocket. Before you get caught up in a hundred goodbyes and a thousand thank-yous, you get into your car and drive away. In the rearview mirror you catch him watching you leave.

You are tired as you drive home, so you roll down the windows and turn up the radio. The cool night air and the sounds of classic rock fill your car as you cruise along the curvy coastal highway. You turn off the highway onto a smaller side road, and then again onto a gravel road, and finally a dirt driveway before you reach the small cabin you’re renting.

It’s a cozy little place, set back in the woods on three sides, but with a view down the side of the “ridge” and into the river valley below. You can’t see or hear your neighbors, but you’ve learned that you like it that way. It’s peaceful here. Quiet in a way your life never used to be.

You turn on your cellphone and give it a minute for it to connect to the wifi--there’s no cell signal most places out here--and once it’s online you send a text to Virion letting him know you’re home safe.

Virion replies quickly with a “Thanks for letting me know. Sleep well.”

You smile despite everything.

Your dining table is small, with just three seats. It’s wedged under one of the large windows, but it lets you look out over the cliffs and down to the river. You love the view from here, and even now, in the full dark, you can see the nighttime fog rolling in.

You eat your sandwich and some of the chips, saving the rest for breakfast tomorrow. It’s late, and you work the evening shift again the next day.

You fiddle with your phone for a few minutes as you debate sending another text. Is it too needy? Maybe.

You text anyway.

You>> The sandwich was good. Thank you. Virion>> Glad to hear it. You’re welcome.

You smile at the text; he’d responded almost immediately, and it makes you feel important. It feels like it’s been forever since anyone cared about you, and you’ve truly missed this feeling. That little bubble of happiness carries you through as you climb into bed.

The morning sunlight pouring through your windows wakes you from unusually vivid dreams about a certain moth. You groan and drag yourself through your morning rituals. You tend the back garden, checking the vegetables that are nearly ready for harvest, throw some feed and scraps from the restaurant to the chickens, and then settle into your favorite patio chair with the leftover sandwich and a cup of tea.

After a moment’s debate, you snap a picture of the sandwich with the view visible and send it to Virion.

You>> [Picture] Thank you for breakfast, too.

He doesn’t immediately respond, but you refuse to let yourself fixate on that. Instead, you enjoy your food and the sunshine. He did you a favor, and though you want to express your gratitude, you also don’t want to get super clingy or overwhelm him, so you force yourself to leave your phone alone and not check it while you putter around the house before work.

You clean a bit, do some laundry and hang it out to dry--avoiding the dryer cuts down on your power bill--and you bring in some wood for the potbellied stove in the corner of the living room. Then you let yourself paint, working with watercolors you try to capture the beauty of the area around you.

Before you know it, it’s time to get ready for work.

You let yourself check your phone finally.

Virion>> Looks like a great place to enjoy a meal. :) Virion>> How did the sandwich hold up overnight?

The fact that he’s asking you a question means he wants to keep talking, right? You smile to yourself, and type out a response. It was a good sandwich, definitely better last night. You tease a bit about the fact that you have no basis of comparison. (You worry a bit about sounding like you’re fishing for more freebies, but you go with it anyway.) He tells you you’ll have to come try the rest, and the back-and-forth carries you through the rest of the day.

You get through another rather lackluster shift at the restaurant, pulling in pretty good tips, all things considered.

Melinda waves you over at the end of the night, her face grim.

“I’m sorry to do this, but based on seniority…” She sighs. “I’m gonna have to cut back your shifts for a couple weeks.”

You pinch your thigh to keep back the rising panic, and instead force a smile onto your face.

“I understand,” You say instead. You can break down once you get to your car. “What shifts am I still working?”

Melinda goes through your modified schedule, and your panic only gets worse. You’ve lost all of your dinnertime work, which means you’ll lose out on all the good tips. You’ve kept a few lunches, and she threw you a brunch, but that’s… it.

You grab your things, and take the free meal to-go. You don’t even know what you’ve got, and you know you’re breaking rules when you dump the plate into a takeout container, but you just need to bail. Melinda, for her part, sees, but doesn’t call you out on it. You think she understands; she’s not a bad boss, and things are tough for the restaurant right now.

But this sucks.

There isn’t a lot of work to be had, with tourist season slowing down. The college students are still in town for the summer, so all those low-skill jobs you could pick up are filled right now.

You stop at the grocery without thinking about it, and head inside.

Virion, as always, is behind the counter. He takes one look at your face and steps forward.

“What happened?” He asks.

“My hours got cut at work, and I don’t know what to do.” You say.

“Oh.” He glances around, then leads you behind the counter to where he’s got a stool, and he has you take a seat. He kneels in front of you, so your heads are on a level with each other. “Okay, so you need another job?”

“Yeah, for a while at least.” You stare at your hands. “I’m sorry for showing up and just… dumping this on you. But like you said yesterday. I’m alone. I just… needed a friendly ear.”

One of his large hands comes out and covers yours where they fidget in your lap. You glance up at him, and your gaze is caught.

“I’m glad you came here,” He says. “I’m glad you came to me.”

You feel like a deer caught in headlights as he stares at you. He doesn’t move, and doesn’t say anything for a moment, and all you can think about is the way your heart is pounding in your chest, and how it would be so easy to close the space between you. But you don’t

“I need help here one night this week and next for deliveries,” Virion tells you, “And I know a few folks need odd jobs like that, too. Not humans, though. Are you okay working for other people… who are sort of like me?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I am.”

“I’ll make some phone calls tomorrow then.” He rises. “For tonight let me show you around so you know what to expect.”

You’re not there long, but you leave with more hope than you’d arrived with. Virion had made it clear that he was only offering a couple shifts, not permanent work--his normal help was out on a brief family leave--but it was still a paying job. You felt some of the weight lift off your shoulders. It would be okay.

The next week is a whirlwind. You pick up mail for a vampire who can’t get to the post office during the day--this promises to be a permanent position if you want it--and help a slime monster mother who has a half-dozen children underfoot with some light housekeeping that had gotten out of hand. There’s a Naga who needs help peeling his molting skin off, and a minotaur who is, ironically enough, trying to build a labyrinth and wanted someone to sweep up their jobsite in the evenings. The hardest though is the werewolf who had blown their winter coat and needed help not just with brushing out their fur, but also with sweeping it all up. All of them pay you in cash at the end of the day.

When Friday rolls around and you’re scheduled to work for Virion, you sit in the parking lot counting your cash, realization dawning on you slowly. You’ve got enough to be okay. It’s thanks to Virion, because of the favor he did you finding the jobs. But it’s also due to your own hard work, and you know you need to recognize that, too.

You tuck the money away in your bag and look thoughtfully at the store. You want to do something for him as a thanks, and now you can spare a bit of cash to do that. You doubt he’d let you repay him for the sandwiches that first night, but maybe you could bake him something? You’re a pretty good baker when you can afford the supplies. Perhaps a cake, or some cookies? You’ll sound him out tonight and see if he likes sweets.

You smile to yourself, grab your things, and head inside.

“You’re here!” Virion says, pleasure evident in his voice when you walk in. “And just in time! The truck should be here any minute. Have you eaten?”

“I am here! And yeah, I ate.” You smile at him. “Thanks for helping me with all the work, it made a huge difference.”

“Glad to hear it.” He passes you an apron, a box cutter, and some work gloves. “Head on back, I’ve got a few boxes left over from last week’s delivery you can stock while we wait. You’re on the clock starting… now.”

“Thanks, boss.” You say, giving him a mock salute.

He laughs, and you saunter away.

The night passes quickly. Virion pulls out a radio and lets you pick the station—there aren’t many to choose between up here, but the fact that he lets you make the choice between country and classic rock is nice—and the two of you chat a bit as you work. He grew up here, bought the store from his parents, and has been running it nearly alone for years now. He’s got some help for the daylight hours (not that you’re ever here then) and the occasional night off.

You tell him a bit about why you’re here in the middle of nowhere. About the ex that broke your heart, and the career you’d ruined in the aftermath. He lets you talk, and when it becomes too much, he seems to sense it, easily turning the conversation to something lighter.

You ask about the off-brand toaster pastry--with flavors like spring meadow and summer breeze— and Virion shrugs.

“They’re popular with our customers.” He says. “Not really a human thing.”

“I haven’t met any other non-humans in the shop,” you muse. “Do you get many?”

“Oh, yes. You’re actually the only human I’ve had come to the store in quite some time.”

“What?” you stop what you’re doing.

“I thought you’d noticed by now but… none of the humans around here really know about this place.” Virion rubs the back of his neck. “We’re not quite in another dimension, but we’re not quite in the human world, either. It’s a sort of liminal space here. You found your way in the first time, I think, because you needed to be here, and since then you’ve just… kept following the same path.”

You sit back on your heels, more surprised by how un-surprising that is. If you hadn’t been so stressed for the last few months, you think you’d have caught on already. But life has been a lot recently, and you’d been stuck in survival mode.

“No shit?” You manage.

He chuckles.

“You’re welcome here, obviously.” He says. “As long as you want to be here.”

You feel a blush burning your cheeks, and you don’t know what to say, so you get back to work. After a moment of hesitation, Virion does the same.

The rest of the night is quieter. You’ve got a lot to think about.

You don’t see Virion again for a week, though he’s on your mind frequently. You find yourself picking up your phone, about to text or call him far too often. You stop yourself most of the time because you don’t want to seem overly attached, but the urge is there. There’s so many things you want to ask him about, or tell him about, and you wonder if he thinks about you even half as much as you think of him. But you’re also busy; you’ve got a few shifts at the restaurant, and a lot of errands for the inhumans that Virion initially put you in touch with, as well as some more that have come as word spread about the helpful human.

Friday morning you head to the store for cookie ingredients (and the rest of your groceries) and as soon as you’re home you get busy baking. You make shortbread, a fairly safe bet for most folks, as well as gingersnaps, just in case. You pull up to the parking lot just before your shift, gather your things, and head in.

Only, Virion’s not there. Instead, there’s a rather large humanoid bat. You freeze.

Bats eat moths.

Did this bat eat Virion? Is Virion in trouble? He didn’t say anything about a bat. But he is a moth, and moths are food for bats… at least… regular sized ones. But this bat is giant, and so is Virion, at least relative to the ones you’re used to in the human world. Does that mean he’s safe? The two of them are basically the same size as each other, after all.

As you stand there panicking, the bat registers your presence.

“Hey,” they say, looking up from their cellphone. “You must be the girl doing the truck tonight. V said you’d be in.”

“Y- yeah, that’s me.” You say, forcing a smile onto your face. “Where is Virion?”

“Oh, he wasn’t feeling too good, so he asked me to cover his shift.” The bat holds out a hand, which is attached to a delicate, leathery wing. “I’m Zeke.”

“Nice to meet you, Zeke.” You shake his hand. His grip is strong and warm, and it’s weirdly the fact that he shakes your hand that makes you feel less freaked out. “Did he leave any extra instructions, or is it same as last week?”

“Nah, same as last week.” Zeke shrugs, settling back onto the stool behind the counter. He’s big, his fur a deep red-brown, his face almost fox-like, and you suspect his wingspan is huge. If you hadn’t met Virion first, you might even find Zeke attractive, a small part of your mind points out. You squash that thought quickly.

“Alright. I’m just gonna head to the back and get ready,” You say. “I’ll come grab you if I need a hand, okay?”

“Yep. Sounds good.” He smiles. His eyes crinkle when he smiles, and you like that a lot, but he’s not Virion.

Damn it.

You flee to the back of the store, mentally berating yourself for the fact that you’ve developed a huge crush on Virion. You need to get over it; he’s being kind to you because he's kind, not because he feels the same way, you tell yourself. And even if he does, right now the two of you are on such uneven footing, you’re sure he wouldn’t feel able to act on anything, he’s just that kind of person. You’ve got to get yourself into a better spot. One where you’re not relying on him.

When the truck arrives, you fish your phone and earbuds out of your bag and turn on something loud and fast-paced that will keep you going, and keep you from dwelling on your emotions. You don’t have time to process this all right now.

You speed through what you can solo, then flag down Zeke for the rest. He helps you move some of the heavier boxes, and lets you stock on your own. You’ve got a rhythm going and he seems to pick up on your mood and recognize that you want to be left alone.

When you’re finally done, you grab your bag and head back to the front of the store.

“This is for you,” Zeke says, passing you an envelope with your name on it. You glance inside. Cash.

“Thanks, Zeke.” You say. You pass over the tupperware full of cookies. “I made these to thank Virion for all the help he’s given me the past month. Could you please make sure he gets them? Feel free to grab a couple for yourself too. There’s a ton in there.”

“Sweet, thanks.” Zeke grins. “You kicked ass tonight. Never seen anyone stock that fast.”

“Hah. I was motivated is all.” You don’t mention that it was frustration with yourself driving you, or that you appreciated being able to turn off most of your brain and just focus on the objects in front of you. Before you can get caught up in conversation, you heft your bag onto your shoulder. “It was nice to meet you.”

You head home, stubbornly tamping down the disappointment you feel at not seeing the handsome moth tonight.

It takes all of an hour after you get home for you to give in to the urge to text the moth.

You>> Hey V. Zeke said you were sick. Hope you’re feeling better soon. Virion>> Sorry to worry you. Virion>> I’ll be okay You>> I made cookies for you. Zeke has them. You>> Make sure you collect them. Virion>> He’s gonna eat them all. You>> If he does, let me know and I’ll make you more. Virion>> I’ll hold you to that. You>> :) Get some rest. Let me know if I can help, please. Virion>> Will do.

After weeks of go-go-go you’re not sure what to do with yourself when there’s not work to be done or a crisis to handle. You’ve actually got enough money to be okay. You don’t have anything to do first thing in the morning, and you finished at Virion’s earlier than expected.

It wasn’t so long ago that you had a lot of idle evenings. You’d get home from your regular 9-to-5 job and you’d be able to just relax. There wasn’t any stress over how your bills were getting paid. You didn’t have to worry about what your next side-hustle was. You could just unwind for the evening. You’ve been so busy since you got here that you haven’t really had time to miss that.

But now you’re alone, and it’s dark and quiet and you have time. Time for yourself. You think about the bottle of fancy bubble bath you’d picked up earlier as a treat. It hadn’t occurred to you that you’d have an opportunity to use it so soon, but here you are.

You put on some mellow music, run a hot bath for yourself, and dance your way around the house, grabbing a few scented candles and a glass of wine. You sink into the tub with a sigh. The water feels good, and the wine is nice, and you let yourself drift.

Your hands, almost of their own accord, begin stroking along your body. Softly at first, as you tease yourself. You think about Virion, and how he might touch you. Would he be gentle? Or could he turn out to be a demanding lover, someone who knows what he wants and pushes you to your limits?

A soft sigh escapes you as your fingers tease your breasts. You imagine Virion’s long tongue instead, the way it might stroke you. While you keep the fingers of one hand at your nipples, the other trails down along your belly, brushing your skin gently. You wonder how his fluff would feel against you, and imagine being held tight against him.

By the time you touch your clit, you’re already nearly to the edge of a climax, just with thoughts of Virion. You plunge your fingers into yourself, and circle your clit with your thumb, and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge. It’s not a world-changing climax, but it’s good, and you ride it out for a few blissful moments.

By the time the wine is gone and the water is getting cold, you’re more relaxed than you’ve been in months. You towel off carefully, and pad across the house wrapped in your towel to grab your favorite pajamas from the drawer.

The phone rings.

You glance at the clock. Nobody ever calls for a good reason at 1am.

A glance at the caller ID shows that it’s Virion, and that makes you even more worried.

“Hey V,” you answer, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help,” he says. “I know it’s asking a lot, but can you come to me?”

“Just text me your address, I’ll get there as quick as I can.”

“Okay.” He sounds awful, it’s more of croak.

You skip the pajamas in favor of some leggings and a big sweater. Your phone pings with an address.

It’s the work of a moment to look up directions before you leave. With no cell signal between your place and his, it’s imperative that you know where you’re going. Thankfully he’s not far, and you’re familiar with the area.

Before you head out, you think for a moment and pack yourself an overnight bag, as well as a few things around the house that you think might help Virion. You’re not sure exactly what you’re walking into, but you’d like to be as prepared as you can.

And then you’re on your way. It isn’t a long drive, but it still feels like an eternity before you’re driving carefully up his driveway and parking in front of a small house. There’s a few lights on, and it’s that more than anything else that makes you sure you’re at the right place. (You’d passed a mailbox with his address a half-mile back up the driveway, and you hadn’t seen any other homes on this property, but it was hard to tell sometimes.)

You grab your things, gather your courage, and march up to the front porch. Before you can knock, the door swings open.

“You’re here,” Virion says in evident relief. He wraps his arms around you, and then you feel him go limp.

“Virion?” You ask. He doesn’t respond. “Virion?!” Your panic rises.

He seems to have lost consciousness. You try to breathe through your panic, and think about what you should do. You can’t take him to a regular hospital. Who can help? Zeke might know.

So you very carefully lower Virion to the ground, and check for his phone. It’s in the pocket of his loose flannel pajama pants, thankfully. You press his thumb against the scanner, and it unlocks. You scan through his contacts and find Zeke’s number.

“V? What’s up man?” Zeke answers.

“It’s me,” you say. “Virion called me and asked for help, and when I got here he passed out on me.”

“Shit,” Zeke says. “Shit. Okay. Stay calm. I’m gonna fly over. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Okay.” You try to keep breathing.

“He’s a stubborn fool,” Zeke says. “He’ll be okay.”

You nod, then remember you’re on the phone, and Zeke can’t see that.

“Is there anyone else I should call?” You ask.

“Once we’re off the phone, look and see if he has Juniper in his contacts. If he does, call them. They run the clinic.” Zeke instructs. “They’ll get things prepped for us.”

“Okay.” You say.

“I’ll be there soon.” Zeke assures you.

You hang up, and look through his phone. Juniper is there.

“Virion?” The voice that answers is ageless, and you wonder if they’re some sort of forest spirit.

“No, I’m... a friend of his,” you say. “He called me and asked me to come over, and then he collapsed.”

“Oh dear,” Juniper says, somehow radiating both concern and calm through the phone. “Where are you? Is anyone else there?”

“I’m at Virion’s. I called Zeke, he’s coming here, and then I guess we’re coming to the clinic?” You run your fingers over one of Virion’s soft cheeks, and look down on his face. The panic threatens to bubble up.

“Yes. Yes. That is good. Zeke will get you here. Is he breathing?” Juniper asks.

His chest is still moving slowly.

“Yes, very slowly.”

“Good.” Juniper says. They continue to walk you through things like finding his pulse point--which is in his wing, not his wrist--and checking to ensure he is stable until Zeke arrives. You’re more grateful than you can express to be kept busy.

“Hey,” Zeke says, landing with a thud nearby. “Are you still talking to Juniper?”

“Yes,” You answer. “Juniper, Zeke just arrived.”

“That is good. I do not believe that Virion is in imminent danger, but do make haste.” Juniper says.

You relay that information to Zeke. The bat nods.

It doesn’t take long to get Virion loaded into your car, and then Zeke gives you directions to get you to the Clinic. The drive isn’t far--no more than a few miles--but it feels like it takes an eternity. You know it’s just because you’re so worried about Virion, but you’re so anxious you could scream.

The clinic is in the town behind the gas station, and you know you shouldn’t be surprised, but you are. You’ve been into town before; your clients had mostly lived up the mountain, in the woods, but some of their errands had brought you down here. You’d been in the grocery store, which unlike Virion’s had limited hours. You’d seen the bar, and the bookshop. But now that you’re driving through it with Virion and Zeke, it’s like there are buildings you can see that you couldn’t before. You wonder if being with them lifted some magical barrier. Because you are certain that you’d never seen the clinic, or the florist, or either of the two restaurants in town before.

You park in front of the clinic, deciding to ask later if there’s some anti-human magic at play. Right now getting care for Virion is more important. As you climb out of the car and open the back door on your side, a tall tree-spirit crosses the parking lot. They look down at you in puzzlement for a moment, then seem to nod.

“You are Virion’s friend,” they say.

“Yes. Are you Juniper?” You ask.

“I am.” They confirm. With supernatural strength that shouldn’t surprise you but does, they scoop Virion out of the back of your car and carry him into the clinic. You look over to Zeke.

“Should I come in, or make myself scarce?” You ask.

“V called you.” He says with a shrug. “You don’t have to stick around if you’re not comfortable, but I think he wanted you here.”

“Okay.” I think he wanted you here is the best you’re going to get for now, so you try to carry yourself as though you belong, and follow the tree spirit and the bat man into the clinic.

What follows is hours of waiting. Juniper doesn’t update you about what they’re doing, but you know they’re taking care of Virion. Zeke hangs out nearby for a while before he tells you that he has to head home. He’s got responsibilities. You thank him for his help, and promise to update him if you have news.

At some point, Juniper tells you that you can sit with Virion in his patient room. You follow them down a short hallway to a rather homey room. There’s an armchair near the bed that you settle into. Virion’s got some monitors near his head, though you don’t see wires connected to him. It must be some kind of magic.

“He is doing better,” Juniper tells you. “He just needs to rest. You will need to supervise him for a few days after he goes home. I know Virion, he is stubborn and will try to go back to work far too soon.”

“I’m not sure we’re that close...” You say, feeling somewhat nervous as you look up at the tree spirit.

They shrug. “He called you.”

“Zeke said something similar. I don’t understand.” You drag your hands over your face.

“Virion has many friends, many people who care for him, many people to call. He chose you.” Juniper speaks slowly, as if speaking to someone who is failing to understand something incredibly simple.

And then it hits you.

He called you.

“Oh.” You say. The magnitude of what both Zeke and Juniper have been trying to tell you really hits you. You’ve been so wrapped up in your feelings for Virion that you haven’t allowed you to consider how he felt about you. But there’s evidence here that you’d have to be an idiot to ignore.

“Yes.” Juniper nods. They don’t quite smile, but their countenance brightens somewhat. “I will check back soon.”

You’re left alone with the sleeping moth man. The monitors near his head display data you don’t understand. He’s still and quiet, and it would scare you more if you weren’t too exhausted to be afraid, you think.

He called you.

There’s an enormity to that which you can’t really focus on right now, in the middle of the night. You’re worn out from being up for hours, and from the crash of adrenaline now that he’s okay, and you can relax. You watch his too-still form in the bed, and you’re grateful for the fact that he reached out.

In another world, one where you were more certain of what him calling you meant, you’d be bold enough to crawl into the hospital bed with him. Instead, you keep a vigil over his rest, though you’re exhausted.

You know there’s something between you now, and you’re not sure he would mind waking up with you in his bed. After all, he called you.

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