#this fic is a How story more than a What story

[requiemforthepoets]

baby peanut! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x wife!reader

SUMMARY: keeping your pregnancy from lando was proven to be very hard when all you want is tell him the amazing news that you both are expecting again. but since his birthday was coming up, you waited for his special day to tell him.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: reader is french-russian, multicultural household, established relationships, pregnancy, typos, and gramatical errors

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HAPPY LANDO DAY!!!!! was debating on posting a new fic for him, but decided to just make it a part of the norris family series, though this can be read as a stand alone. hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The soft morning light was just beginning to filter through the white curtains when you stirred awake, glancing over to see Lando fast asleep beside you. His peaceful face looked even more boyish, framed by the tousled strands of hair he hadn’t bothered to tame before collapsing into bed after last night’s stream. It had been hours before he joined you in bed, he and Max laughing and gaming into the early morning, and you knew he deserved this rest.

Just as you began to carefully sit up, you heard a soft rustling sound from the bedroom doorway. Peeking over, you spotted a small figure, a very familiar figure—a little silhouette with tousled hair, just like Lando’s, and sparkling eyes, trying best to tiptoe into the room. It was Thylane, with her tiny hands clutching her favorite blankie. You could see that she was struggling to hold back a giggle as she glanced over at her sleeping father.

Smiling, you brought a finger to your lips, silently shushing her. Thylane’s eyes widened, and she stopped mid-step, freezing in the doorway. You motioned gently for her to come closer to you, and she padded over quietly, looking up at you expectantly.

“Is Papa awake yet?” She whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

The eagerness in her tone made your heart swell, and you could not help but lean down, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

“No, mon amour,” you whispered back, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Papa had a very late night with Uncle Max. He needs his sleep, let’s let him rest a little longer, hm?”

Thylane nodded, her expression brightening at the thought of what you had in mind. “But it’s Papa’s birthday! I want to say happy birthday to him!”

“I know, my love. But how about we go to the kitchen, just you and me, and make a special birthday breakfast for Papa? Then we can surprise him together when he wakes up, and…” you paused, heart fluttering as you thought about the special surprise you had planned, one that you had kept to yourself until today. “And there’s something very exciting we’ll be giving him. Something you’re going to help me with, too.”

Her eyes lit up, and she bounced on her toes, already whispering with excitement. “What is it, Mama?”

“You’ll see, mon petit trésor,” you murmured with a soft smile. “It’s a surprise just as much for you as it is for your Papa. Now, come on.”

You grabbed your silk robe by the vanity chair and put it on. Taking Thylane’s little hand in yours, you casted a quick glance back at Lando. You leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, lingering just a moment. The warmth of his skin was comforting, and for a heartbeat, you just admired the peaceful look on his face, hoping he would carry that warmth with him when he awoke to find you both by his side. Then you carefully lifted Thylane into your arms to keep her quiet and avoid the soft creaks of the floorboards as you slipped out of the room together.

You and Thylane moved quietly into the kitchen, both of you filled with anticipation. The kitchen was softly lit by the morning sun, casting a warm glow over the countertops as you gathered everything you needed for Lando’s birthday breakfast, with Thylane already clutching the whisk with her small hands, her tongue poking out in concentration as she tried her best to mix the batter for the pancakes.

“Like this, Mama?” She asked, glancing up at you, her face bright with determination.

“Oui, parfait, mon ange,” you replied, ruffling her hair lightly. “Now, tu peux ajouter les blueberries. Add the blueberries, like this.” You handed her a small bowl of plump blueberries, showing her how to fold them gently into the batter.

She followed your instructions very carefully, not wanting to ruin Lando’s surprise, her little fingers pushing each blueberry into the mix with care, her eyes darting to you every so often to check if she was doing it right.

“Is Papa going to love it?” She whispered.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Of course Papa’s going to love it because you made it for him,” you assured her, watching her face break into a wide grin. “Now, pass me the flour, please—la farine. Careful, don’t spill.”

With both hands, Thylane picked up the small bag of flour and brought it over, the look of focus never leaving her face. She had switched to a more serious demeanor, taking her role as your little sous-chef very seriously.

“Here, Mama!” She said proudly, handing it to you as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Merci, mon trésor,” you replied, taking the flour and measuring out the right amount for the batter. “Okay, now you can stir again, doucement, like this.” You demonstrated, letting her hands follow yours as you guided her through the gentle motions.

When the pancakes were stacked high on a plate, topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup, you and Thylane both stood back, admiring your creation.

“Look at what we made together,” you said softly, squeezing Thylane’s shoulder. “Papa will be very happy.”

Thylane clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Can we give it to him now?”

“Not yet,” you shook your head, a smile forming on your lips. “There’s one more surprise we need to get ready.”

Walking over to the drawer, you retrieved the small acrylic box, some soft cloth, and your carefully wrapped pregnancy test. Thylane’s brows furrowed as she watched you, her head tilting with curiosity.

“What’s that, Mama?” She asked, peering closely at the box as you placed the soft cloth inside.

“This, my love, is a very special surprise for Papa,” you knelt down so that you were eye-level with her, placing the test in the box atop the folded cloth. “Do you remember how you told me you wanted to have a little brother or sister?”

Thylane’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes! Yes! Does this mean…”

“Yes, Tilly. This means you’re going to be a big sister.” You smiled warmly at her.

Her face lit up, her mouth forming a perfect little “O” of excitement. “Really, Mama? I get a baby brother or sister?”

“Yes, mon trésor,” you nodded, laughing softly at her reaction. “We don’t know yet if it’s a brother or sister, but the baby is here, right inside Mama’s tummy, just a little peanut for now.”

Thylane’s eyes went wide with wonder, and she pressed her small hands to your stomach as if she was trying to feel the baby herself.

“A baby peanut!” She giggled, delight shining in her face. “Can we call the baby that for now?”

“Of course,” you chuckled, brushing her hair back. “Until we know more, we can call your little sibling, baby peanut.” She grinned, clearly enamored with the idea, and watched carefully as you tied the ribbon around the box with care.

“Can I help with the ribbon?” She asked, her hand already reaching out eagerly.

“Of course, here.” You said, guiding her hand as she carefully looped the ribbon around, tightening it with a gentle tug and finishing it off in a neat bow.

“Where should we put it, Mama?” She asked, glancing around the room.

You took a quick look at the cozy space, then pointed to a spot on the kitchen counter, just out of Lando’s immediate line of sight.

“Right here,” you decided, setting the box down gently. “That way, Papa won’t see it right away.”

Thylane nodded, grinning widely. “I can’t wait to see Papa’s reaction!”

With breakfast prepared and the surprise box tucked safely out of sight, you and Thylane made your way back to the bedroom, eager to wake up the birthday boy. By now, the sun had fully risen, casting a warm glow across the room as you nudged the door open to your and Lando’s bedroom. You expected to see Lando still sleeping peacefully, but instead, he was already awake, propped up on pillows with his phone in his hand, scrolling with a sleepy smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, Thylane let out a squeal of excitement and sprinted towards the bed, practically launching herself onto him. Lando barely had time to react before she pounced, wrapping her arms around his neck and showering Lando’s face with small kisses.

“Happy birthday, Papa! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” She chanted, each word punctuated with a giggling kiss to Lando’s cheeks, forehead, and nose. Lando can’t help but laugh, his eyes crinkling with joy as he pulled her close, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Thank you, Tilly!” He replied, chuckling as he looked up at her. “I don’t think I��ve ever had such a special wake-up call on my birthday before.”

She nodded enthusiastically, her face flushed with pride. “I made you a biiiiig birthday card last night! It’s pink, and has lots of hearts and sparkles on it, and I even drew a race car!”

“Woah, a race car? Just for me? Now that is one special card,” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear as he smiled up at her. “I can’t wait to see it. I bet it’s the best card in the whole world.”

Giggling, Thylane seated herself on top of his stomach, her little hands resting on his chest as she looked down at Lando with pure adoration. You leaned against the doorway, laughing at the sweet sight in front of you before walking over to the bed and settling down beside Lando.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, but laced with affection. “I’m so happy that I get to spend my birthday with my favorite girls.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. “Good morning, birthday boy,” you whispered, smiling against his lips before pulling back just slightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Lando grinned, puckering his lips again, silently asking for another kiss. Laughing, you leaned down, giving him another soft kiss, feeling his hand come up to gently cup your cheek. In that moment, it was just the three of you, wrapped in warmth and love, as if nothing else in the world existed. As you pulled back, Thylane let out a little giggle, pointing at the two of you with a mischievous grin.

“Ew, Mama and Papa!” She teased, though her face betrayed nothing but happiness.

Lando laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Hey, I deserve a birthday kiss, don’t I?”

“Papa! Mama and I made you a special breakfast!” She announced, clapping her hands. “We worked really, really hard. I even put the blueberries in all by myself!”

“No way! You mean to tell me you were my chef this morning, too?” Lando ticked her side, making her dissolve into giggles.

Thylane laughed, wiggling under his tickling fingers. “Yes, I’m your chef today! Mama showed me how to make everything.”

“Well, now I definitely have to see what my two favorite girls cooked up,” he said, sitting up slowly.

Lando reached over, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close, then lifted Thylane into his other arm. She squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling her head against Lando’s shoulder. As the three of you made your way to the kitchen, Lando kept his arm secure around your waist, pulling you close as Thylane chattered excitedly about breakfast.

“Mama taught me how to fold in the blueberries so they wouldn’t smush!” She said proudly. “And we made a big stack of pancakes with syrup and blueberries and…oh! And I even helped tie a bow for your present!”

Lando gave you a curious look over Thylane’s shoulder. “A present, huh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “I’m starting to think you two were up to a lot more than just breakfast this morning.”

“Hm, maybe we were,” you replied, smiling playfully as you reached up to brush a strand of his hair back. “But you’ll have to be patient to find out.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist. “Well, I don’t know how much patience I have today. I mean, it is my birthday.”

Laughing, you reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Good things come to those who wait, birthday boy.”

The three of you entered the kitchen, where the table was set with the special breakfast you and Thylane had made. Lando’s eyes sparkled as he took it all in, and Thylane beamed with pride, practically bouncing in his arms.

“Happy birthday, Papa!” She exclaimed one last time, her voice full of love and excitement, her little arms squeezing him tightly.

With Lando’s arm around you, and Thylane hugging him with all her might, it was clear to you that this birthday morning could not have started off any sweeter.

Breakfast was a cozy, peaceful affair, the three of you wrapped in the simplicity of the morning. You and Lando chatted about plans for his birthday dinner later, throwing around ideas and laughing at each other’s jokes, while Thylane happily watched her favorite show on her iPad, humming along with the familiar theme song of Little Einsteins. It was a gentle scene, just the three of you? Sharing a quiet, joyful space as the morning sun spilled across the table.

Lando seemed perfectly content, caught up in the warmth of the moment. He had almost forgotten about the small gift waiting for him, tucked away in the kitchen—until you stood up, brushing a gentle hand across his shoulder.

“Wait here for a sec,” you said softly, a hint of excitement in your voice. “Tilly, come help me with something for Papa.”

Thylane’s face lit up as she hopped down from her chair, glancing at you with a secretive smile. She knew exactly what was coming next. Taking her hand, you led her back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder to see Lando watching you both with a look of fond curiosity. He seemed completely oblivious to what was coming.

You reached into the cozy corner of the counter, pulling out the small, acrylic box you had hidden away with so much care. Inside, carefully wrapped in a soft cloth, was the positive pregnancy test. You knelt down, handing the box to Thylane, who held it carefully with wide, shining eyes.

“Okay, mon ange,” you whispered, giving her a gentle smile. “Give this to Papa, and make sure he opens it.”

She nodded, taking the box in her hands as if it were a treasure. Together, you walked back to the dining area, where Lando was watching you both with growing curiosity.

“What’s this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful grin.

Thylane held out the box, her excitement barely contained. Lando took the acrylic box, glancing from her to you, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face.

You smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, leaning close. “Go on,” you said, voice soft with anticipation. “Open it.”

“Open it, Papa! Open it!” She echoed, bouncing slightly on her toes, her face brimming with excitement.

Lando carefully untied the delicate ribbon that Thylane had helped you with that morning, his fingers moving slowly as if savoring the moment. The box felt light in his hands, and his expression shifted from curiosity to wonder as he lifted the lid, pulling away the cloth inside. The instant he saw the test, his eyes widened, and Lando looked up at you with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

“Is this…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he was afraid he might shatter the moment. “Is this real? Is this for real?”

You nodded, unable to contain your own smile as you squeezed his shoulder. “Yes, love. It is real.” You watched his face light up as the reality of it washed over him.

“Happy birthday, my love.” You added softly, feeling your own heart swell with happiness.

Lando did not hesitate. He stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off of your feet, twirling you in a gentle circle. His laugh was warm and filled with immense happiness so pure that it brought tears to your eyes.

“After all this time,” he murmured, voice thick with emotions as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “We’re really going to have another baby?” You nodded, laughing through your tears.

“I found out a few weeks ago, when you were in Mexico. I wanted to wait until today to tell you.” You placed a hand on his cheeks, gazing up at him with all the love you had been holding back for weeks. “It took everything in me not to tell you the moment I found out.”

He kissed you softly, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered. “Thank you for waiting, love. This…this is literally the best birthday gift I’ve ever had.”

“Papa, did you see? It’s real!” She said, beaming and clapping her hand, while bouncing in happiness. “I’m going to have a baby brother or sister! I told Mama I want to call them baby peanut!”

“Baby peanut, huh?” Lando chuckled, bending down to lift Thylane into his arms, bringing her close to the two of you. Kissing her forehead, and looking at you with a grin. “I think that’s a perfect name, for now.”

“Papa, can we tell everyone? All our friends?” Thylane’s face lit up at the thought, and she looked back and forth between you and Lando.

“Soon, Tilly. But for now, let’s keep it our little secret, okay? Just between us.” He leaned down, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That way, we can keep baby peanut all to ourselves a little longer.”

“Our little secret!” She nodded seriously, her eyes wide as she held her finger to her lips. “I’m really good at secrets, Papa. I won’t tell anyone!”

You all just stood there, basking in the warmth and happiness of the quiet moment, Lando had never felt a new kind of peace settle over him. This was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of. A family, life filled with love and laughter, and now, another little one on the way.

Lando let Thylane down, letting her run towards the living room to play with her toys. He reached out, threading his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, and kissing it softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking a little bit. “For this, for everything. You’ve given me the greatest gift of all.”

You squeezed his hand back, your own eyes shining with emotion. “I love you,” you murmured. “Happiest birthday, my love.”

As Lando held you closely, he realized that this was a happiness beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

[creamflix]

toji fushiguro x female reader; heavy, heart-crushing angst, not a lot of comfort. reader is toji's second wife, megumi's step-mom. concept inspired by @/yunymphs nsfw fic, off your shoulders — masterlist here ☆

marriage is supposed to be a blessing, a bond that seals two lives into one, a promise of belonging.

you’d always dreamed of it.

sharing every first moment with someone — the first kiss as newlyweds, the first lazy morning dance in the kitchen, the first time lying side by side, tangled in each other. you’d imagined a life full of firsts, a life that would feel like you’re writing a story together, each page a piece of both of you.

but with toji, the man you love and who loves you, it feels like stepping into the middle of a book already written.

he’s had his firsts, some so precious that traces of them linger like shadows in your home. and you try — god, you try — to let that be enough, to love him and his son, megumi, with all the warmth and devotion you can muster. yet some days, you feel like you’re just outside their world, looking in.

it’s in the everyday moments, these small interactions that remind you of everything they had before you came along. moments like this morning, when you’re up early making breakfast, hoping to surprise toji with something special. you’re chopping vegetables, humming softly to yourself, trying to imagine the look on his face when he comes in, maybe pulls you close and says you don’t have to go through the trouble. you’ve seen couples do that — little gestures to remind each other they’re together.

you want that, too.

but as you start to crack an egg into the pan, you hear megumi calling from down the hall. “dad, where are my soccer cleats?”

your heart clenches. before you can even move to help, toji’s already calling back, voice easy, like it’s a scene they’ve played out a hundred times. “try under the stairs, where your mom used to keep ‘em.”

his mom. megumi’s mom.

the woman who came before you, whose shoes you will never be able to fill.

the words hang in the air, chilling. you place the egg down and pause, the silence settling heavy on your shoulders. you don’t hate her, not in the slightest — you’ve only ever heard lovely things about her. if anything, you’re grateful to her for the habits, routines, the sense of belonging she built with them, for raising megumi to be as kind as he is.

but still, there’s a sting every time she’s mentioned, a reminder that no matter how much you love toji, a part of him will always belong to her.

maybe that’s normal, you tell yourself, shaking off the thought. you grab the spatula, focusing on the way the eggs sizzle in the pan, trying to calm the knot that’s forming in your stomach.

“i’m… making breakfast, by the way,” you call out, trying to keep your voice light. maybe this will be the moment toji notices, realizes you’re trying to make him smile in your own way.

“yeah, thanks, babe,” he says from the hall. he’s already moved on, ruffling megumi’s hair as they laugh about something you can’t quite hear.

right, you think, fighting the wave of hurt that sweeps over you.

maybe that’s just the way it is.

you stare down at the breakfast you prepared, feeling a pang of something deeper than you’d care to admit. you’re doing your best to fit in, to add to the life he’s built, but sometimes, it feels like nothing more than an afterthought. it’s silly, really — you know they care about you, know toji chose you because he loves you.

but love doesn’t always erase what came before.

and it’s not his fault that his past is so deeply woven into their present, into your present.

by the time they wander into the kitchen, you’ve already set out the plates, adding a smile to mask the ache twisting inside you. megumi gives you a small nod, a muttered “thanks,” while toji walks over, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “looks good,” he says with that lazy smirk, and you feel the flutter of warmth, the one that always ignites when he shows even the smallest affection. but it quickly fades as he moves back to his son, launching into an old joke that you don’t understand.

you sit down across from them, feeling the laughter spill around you, each chuckle a reminder of the bond they share. you know it’s unreasonable to feel left out; after all, you’ve only been a part of their lives for a fraction of the time.

and they are good to you. they include you in most things, make an effort to make you feel like part of the family.

but there are these subtle moments, these glances, these familiar gestures, that you can never quite touch.

you watch as toji reaches over, ruffling megumi’s hair, that same fond smile lighting his face. and it’s like watching them dance to a song you can’t hear. a piece of you aches to ask, where do i fit into this?

“you two are adorable,” you say, almost to yourself, hoping they hear the love in your voice despite the sadness resting there.

you can’t say the words that sit heavy in your chest, the longing to belong to them in a way that feels real and whole. instead, you keep your gaze on your plate, focusing on the small bite of eggs you’ve managed to lift to your lips, the only sound in your head the quiet plea that maybe one day, this feeling will pass.

maybe one day, watching them from afar will stop hurting so much.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[aewon]

when they find out you’re a mermaid

pairing: enhypen x f!reader g: fluff, est relationship warnings: cursing, pet names, kissing note: i’m literally writing an h2o inspired fic but i wanted to do this too hehe also i went crazy with sunghoon’s lmao

LEE HEESEUNG

you didn’t expect to see your boyfriend in your secluded area on the beach, and unfortunately it was too late to hide your tail.

“hey baby i—” cue the shock.

you’re looking at him in fear, not knowing what he’s gonna do next. is he gonna scream? run? tell someone? but he doesn’t do any of those things, he just asks, astonished, “you’re a mermaid?”

when you nod, he just walks forward, sitting on his knees beside you. “how did this happen?” when you explain it to him, he’s amazed. “i never knew something like that was possible.”

“are you afraid?” you ask him. he shakes his head, “afraid? baby i think you’re the most magnificent thing i’ve ever seen.” and he just looks at you like he’s even more in love than he already was.

“can i touch it?” he asks, and you know he’s referring to your tail. you giggle and nod, and he wastes no time in bring a gentle hand to it. the scales feel smooth against his hand and he’s mesmerized.

you ask if he’s gonna tell anyone and he shakes his head vehemently, “no, never. i would never put you in danger like that.” and you know that you can trust him.

PARK JONGSEONG

you invited your boyfriend over to confess something that’s been gnawing at you for awhile.

when he arrives, he gives you the usual hug and kiss, but quickly realizes something serious is going on.

“what’s wrong babe?”

you say nothing, just taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom. while inside you sit on the bed, him following you.

“i have something to tell you… or rather, show you.”

you take the water bottle on your nightstand, open it, and pour just the smallest amount on yourself.

jay looks at you in confusion, but within seconds, you’ve transformed. it almost blinds it, the glowing light, but after it subsides, the first thing he sees is your tail.

“what the fuck?” he says, eyes wide and mouth open. “you’re a….mermaid?” as you tell him your story, he listens intently as he always does though he’s still shocked. once you finish, his mouth opens and closes like a fish, which you can’t help but find adorable. “are you mad?” you ask.

“no, i’m just… in awe i guess. i never thought mermaids were real but here you are.” he immediately promises that he won’t tell anyone to your relief and starts asking questions. as you show him your power, he looks like a kid in a candy shop.

“you’re amazing, i can’t believe my girlfriends a mermaid.” the giddy smile on his face makes you laugh.

SIM JAEYUN

you completely forgot that jake has a key to your apartment.

you don’t realize he’s inside until he’s barging into your bathroom while your mid-bath, in your mermaid form.

he jumps back, “what the fuck?”

you begin to stutter, trying to find something to say. “that’s a sick costume, why are you wearing it in the tub though?”

oh my god, you can’t help but laugh at his obliviousness. “it’s not a costume, jake. it’s real.” he blinks a couple times, looking like a confused puppy. “but mermaids aren’t real?”

“well, they are. and i’m one of them.”

he walks forward, running his hand along your tail and you can visibly see him shiver. “holy shit.”

once you explain how you became this way, he looks star struck. “so that pool really turned you, with the moon and everything?”

as you nod and answer more of his questions, him having comes to sit beside the tub on the toilet, you realize he’s not angry or upset. you voice this to him and he just gives you his signature smile, “of course i’m not angry. why would i be? i understand why you kept it from me.”

you relax, knowing you can trust him. within a few minutes he’s become obsessed with your tail. he’s continuously stroking it, amazed by the texture of the scales and the way your top is covered. you indulge him, feeling safe and relieved now that he knows.

PARK SUNGHOON

you knew you shouldn’t have come to this party. it’s a pool party for gods sake. you don’t belong near any pools. sunghoon is the one who invited you, it’s his party of course, why wouldn’t he invite his girlfriend? you should’ve came up with an excuse to miss it, but you didn’t want to disappoint him.

you figured as long as you stay covered from head to toe and stay away from the pool, you’ll be okay.

how wrong you were. not only are you getting questioning looks for your attire, your boyfriend being one of them, you can’t seem to get far away enough from the water.

“baby, are you okay? why are you wearing all that?” all that being layers and a long coat. you tell him you’re not feeling good and he pouts a little, “you could’ve told me, i would’ve understood.”

you know, but you didn’t want him to get suspicious.

without warning, two guys behind you suddenly lift you up, throwing you into the pool. your other friends that are there, manage to get everyone inside, locking them in with ice.

everyone except sunghoon.

as you turn, your worst fear comes to life as sunghoon looks at you in shock, or what you assume to be horror.

“what the hell is going on?” he says, backing away from the pool. you stutter as you try to explain, but you can hear the others trying to get back outside.

“help us sunghoon!” your friends beg, as they try to pull you out of the pool, but you’re too heavy.

he just stands there, frozen in place. you hold out your hand, “i’ll explain everything. just please, help me.”

your pleading eyes seem to snap him out of it, and then he’s helping pull you out of the pool onto the concrete. your friend quickly uses her power to begin drying your tail. it burns but you don’t complain.

when you’ve successfully changed back, you and the others rush out of there, not wanting people to question how you’re dry.

once away from the others, you explain yourself to sunghoon. the other girls backing you up. “are you upset?” you ask. sunghoon shakes his head, “not at all, just shocked and amazed. but don’t worry you’re all safe with me.” he takes your hand, kissing the back of it.

KIM SUNOO

you and sunoo have been dating for a few months and you’ve been trying to find a way to tell him you’re a mermaid.

you decide to take him to mako island, where you know no one else will see.

“i don’t understand why we’re here. you know i don’t like hiking.” he’s complaining and you can’t help but giggle at his attitude. you promise him you’re almost there, and once you reach the opening you send him down first, following afterward.

“i damn near broke my ankle! what are we doing down here?”

you lead him to the moon pool, and he looks around in awe. “what is this place?”

“that’s what i wanted to show you,” you say before gently lowering yourself into the moon pool. sunoo just looks at you confused and starts to talk, “why are you getting in the water—"

he’s interrupted by the bright glow of your transformation. once your mermaid form is visible, he gasps.

“what the fuck? what is this? what are you? you’re a mermaid?” his mouth is moving a million miles a minute, throwing out question after question.

you finally manage to calm him down and explain what happened. his widened eyes eventually soften, “oh baby, why didn’t you tell me sooner? i’d never be upset or betray you.”

“i know, i was just scared.”

“you never have to be scared with me, i’ll never hurt you.” with that, he leans down, giving you a kiss.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon was the human equivalent of a nerd. his interest in mythology of all kinds amazed you.

his latest fascination, mermaids. he tells you all about their “possible” existence, sightings, origins, everything there is to know. which is why, when you finally decide to show him your other form, he’s more than ecstatic.

“i fucking knew it, i knew they were real! holy shit my girlfriends a mermaid!”

you answer all his questions, confirming and denying facts and misconceptions. once he’s finally calmed down and not so jittery, you ask him, “you’re not gonna tell anyone, are you?”

“and let them take you away to experiment on you and shit? no way! i’d never do that to you, i love you.”

you coo, “i love you more.”

you let him touch your tail, and he’s amazed by the luminescence of your scales. how they shine in the sunlight.

you tell him all about your abilities and power. showing him how you can manipulate water and speak to sea creatures.

“promise me you’ll take me swimming with you one time? i’d love to see you in action.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki was worried when you texted him, telling him you needed to talk. he expected the worst, that you were breaking up with him, not this by a long shot.

as he stares at your tail, his gaze unwavering, his face almost emotionless, you get nervous.

“riki, are you okay?”

he looks up at you finally, and just says, “you’re a fucking mermaid.” before going back to look at your tail.

you snort, “gee thanks for letting me know.”

he doesn’t even react to your sarcasm, just continues to stare.

“my girlfriends a mermaid. this is the coolest day of my life,” he says after a solid 5 minutes of silence.

you take his hand, bringing it to your tail to touch. he’s gentle, treating you as if you’ll break.

“this is the coolest day of my life,” he repeats.

you laugh, “we got that the first time. are you gonna tell?”

he shakes his head, “i don’t want anyone knowing about this except me. it’ll be our little secret.” he brings you forward for a kiss. letting you go, he jumps into questions, and you answer them all gratefully.

© AEWON 2024

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @deanwinchesterswitch @freewastelandstrawberry

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses

[cosmicdahlias]

Monthly Chivalry

Ford Pines x Reader

MINORS DNI

Your time of the month has hit you like a truck. Ford proposes an idea to alleviate your pain.

tags: blood, praise kink, period oral, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, period sex, p in v, creampie

i asked if y’all wanted a period sex fic and got an overwhelming yes of 44 notes. i’ve always been into the concept of period sex and i had no idea so many of y’all are too. we really all freaks up in this bitch.

You lay in bed with your boyfriend and research partner, Ford, his bare chest pressed against your back and his arm wrapped around you. You scrolled on your phone with a heating pad on your stomach, unable to sleep. You were once again struck with the monthly “gift” from mother nature.

Ever since you first started having periods you were always afflicted with cramps that left you in unbearable pain. Ibuprofen helped somewhat, but the discomfort was still significant. You curled in a fetal position as you felt a cramp throb in your stomach.

“Oh dear, is it getting bad again?” Ford asked.

You nodded and he slipped a six fingered hand under your heating pad to your stomach.

“I hate seeing you like this every month. Is there anything I can do to help? I could make a pot of herbal tea if you’d like.” He offered.

“No, it’s okay. If the heating pad is barely doing anything, I doubt tea will do me much good.”

“My poor stardust, I just wish I could take away your pain someho-“

He stopped, an idea forming. You rolled over and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Well, there is… something we could try. I’ve read that sex during menstruation can actually be quite beneficial. The contractions from an orgasm cause the uterus to relax, which is incredibly effective at alleviating cramps. Furthermore, increased circulation causes clitoral and vaginal sensitivity during this time of the month which can intensify orgasms. Would you be willing to give it a shot?”

You had to admit, your period did always dramatically increase your sex drive and something about him being open to try what most men would never even consider doing was incredibly arousing. That and with your pain you were more than on board. You put a hand to his chest.

“Let’s do it.” You said enthusiastically.

“Very good. Let me go fetch a towel.”

Ford left the room and returned with a towel, setting it on the bedside table. He got on top of you, kissing you and lifting your shirt, taking in the sight of your chest.

“Goodness, I love how your breasts get larger during your cycle.”

He took one in his hand and stroked your nipple with his thumb, making you moan softly.

“They also get more sensitive.” You purred.

“Mmm, I can tell.” He whispered.

Ford lifted your hips, placing the towel underneath you, and slipping your pajama pants and panties off of you. He lowered himself down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and edging dangerously close to your pussy.

“Oh Ford, you’re not gonna-“

“Do you not want me to?”

“N- no I don’t mind it in theory, I just… don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“I appreciate your concern, but have you considered that I want to do this? To taste you? May I?”

You turned deep scarlet, suddenly remembering Ford’s journal entry on giant vampire bats. Him craving blood “more than usual” after being bitten by one, which when his nephew shone a blacklight on the entry revealed it to be nothing more than a fruit bat, a detail Ford curiously left out of his story when he recounted it before you two became a couple. There was also the scratched out phrase “human blood tastes better”. You knew Ford had some kinks that were… out there to say the least, so this really shouldn’t have been a surprise to you.

You nodded.

“Good girl.” He said.

He dragged his tongue up your pussy to your clit.

“My god, you taste so good like this.” He moaned against you.

“Do I really?”

“Yes, it’s intoxicating.”

Ford sucked your clit, rolling it with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. He slipped his fingers in your pussy, curling them at your g-spot. The increased sensitivity was definitely a thing, it wouldn’t take much longer for him to make you cum. You bucked yourself against him, tightening around is fingers, you were close.

“That’s it, let yourself cum on my tongue.” Ford cooed.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, cumming on his face with a loud moan. He didn’t let up, keeping at the same pace of both fingers and tongue. He coaxed a second orgasm, then a third. He finally stopped at six, leaving you an overwhelmed, shaking mess.

“Ohhhhhhh goddddd, Ford. You’re gonna kill meeeee.” You groaned.

“Sorry, stardust. The whole point of this was to relieve your pain and I just wanted to be thorough.”

He pulled out his fingers, licking them, then looked up at you. Blood covered the bottom half of his face.

You gave a weak laugh. “Ford, your face.”

“What? Oh!”

Ford wiped his mouth and chin clean with the edge of the towel. He moved himself to sit next to you, taking your face in his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“How do you feel now? Better?” He whispered.

He leaned down to kiss you and you gave yourself a second to assess your pain. It was still there, but you had to admit he’d made a difference.

“I think so.”

“Good. Now, I could stop here, but do you want to continue?”

“I think such chivalry deserves to be rewarded.”

“Good girl. I’ve wanted to know for so long what being inside you during your time of the month feels like.”

Ford got off the bed and slipped his flannel pajama pants and boxers down his legs. He was already so hard for you, his cock twitching and leaking more precum than you’d ever seen from him before. You made a mental note to probe him for more of his kinks in the future if it meant working him up like this.

He returned to the bed, getting on top of you and angling his cock at your entrance. He slowly slipped inside you, immediately giving an insanely loud moan.

“D- dear Moses. You’re always so wet for me, but this is incredible. You feel so perfect.”

Ford began to thrust into you. Christ, he felt even better than usual.

“Holy fuuuuck, you weren’t kidding about the increased sensitivity.” You whimpered.

“I’m glad this is as pleasurable for you as it is for me, princess.”

You moved your hips back on him.

“Oh god, I swear you’re tighter. You’re practically constricting me.” Ford moaned.

“Sounds like we need to do this more often.”

“That we do.”

Ford picked up his pace, the wet sounds of your pussy increasing in volume.

“Oh my GOD, do you hear that? Do you hear how wet you are like this?” Ford asked.

He pulled out momentarily, sitting up on his knees and dragging you by your hips onto the tip of his cock. He threw your legs over his shoulders, slamming every inch inside you as you cried out in a deafening moan.

“God, I know you love this position, the way it allows me to go even- mmn, fuck- deeper. I’m not making your cramps worse am I?” Ford asked.

“No.”

“No? How does it feel then? And make sure to use your words, stardust.”

He slipped his fingers between your thighs, stroking your already beyond sensitive clit and moving his hips at a breakneck speed. He did this with the intention of overstimulating you, a game he played often to watch you struggle to answer him coherently.

“Nnnhh, I- I c- can’t. N- not f- fair.” You whimpered.

Ford smirked.

“I know, I’m the worst. I just love seeing you writhe underneath me.” He teased.

His breathing became heavy, his fast pace turning sloppy.

“I’m close, where do you want it, stardust?” He asked.

“I- In me, p- please.” You begged.

“God, you’re so good for me. Are you going to cum with me?”

You nodded.

“That’s my girl.”

Ford managed a few more thrusts before you came undone on his cock. The sensation of you pulsing around him caused him to give a moan and dig his nails into your calf, burying his entire length and cumming hot thick ropes deep inside you.

Words failed him for a moment, the only sounds being heavy breathing from the two of you before he finally spoke.

“H- how are you feeling? Good?” He panted, still attempting to catch his breath.

You nodded, incredibly overstimulated and unable to form a real sentence.

“I’m glad.” He said.

Ford pulled out and the both of you looked down. Blood coated not only his cock, but his and your thighs. Thankfully the towel prevented anything from staining the sheets. Ford gave a chuckle.

“Looks like we made more of a more of a mess than I had anticipated. How about I run hot bath to clean us up?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“Stanford Pines, a gentleman as always. Sounds perfect.”

[daniiiboo]

love story- jh86

summery- love story by taylor swift, jack hughes version

dani's thoughts - yay another fic out!!!

warnings- nothing just pure fluff

We were both young when I first saw you

It was the first day of high school and Jack Hughes couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on. You had a dazzling smile that could light up the entire room. Jack felt his heart skip a beat as he watched you from across the hallway. As he walked past you, your guy's eyes met for a brief moment and Jack felt a strange connection to you.  

After that, Jack found himself making excuses to walk past your locker in hopes of catching another glimpse of you. Eventually, fate stepped in and you and Jack were paired up for a group project in English class. As the two of you worked on the project together, Jack found himself growing closer to you. 

“Maybe we can do this instead?” You asked Jack, wondering how to fix the mistake the two of you made. Instead of being worried about the project, Jack was too busy looking at you, the way your hair frames your face, how your face lightly scrunched up as you thought. “Jack?” you questioned, waving your hand in front of his face.

“Oh- urhm, yeah that's good!” Jack stuttered out, his face turning a beautiful shade of red.

“Ohh kay” you responded, going back to writing.

You were Romeo, you were throwin’ pebbles and my daddy said “Stay away from Juliet”

The sound of a hockey puck hitting the boards echoed through the empty rink as you watched from the bleachers. It was a late practice, and most of the team had already left. But your boyfriend, Jack wasn’t quite done yet. He was the last to skate, always pushing himself a little longer than the rest, always a bit more determined to be the best.

You sat with your knees pulled up to your chest, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone, though your eyes kept flicking up to watch Jack. The way he moved on the ice, the confidence in every stride, every shot. 

“Stay away from him, (Y/N). He’s trouble.”

You’d heard those words so many times that they had started to feel like a broken record in your head. But despite your father’s warnings, you couldn’t help the way your heart raced whenever you saw Jack, or how he made you feel when he smiled at you.  Finally, as he finished up his last lap around the rink, he skated over to the bench where you were sitting. He pulled off his helmet, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, and threw a towel over his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” he asked, his voice warm, though there was an edge to it.

You shrugged, trying to act casual.

 “Just needed some air. You know, thinking about… stuff.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He leaned against the bench, crossing his arms, looking at you with that trademark smirk of his. 

“Stuff, huh? You’re not gonna tell me what kind of ‘stuff’ you’re thinking about?”

You bit your lip. You knew he was trying to get a rise out of you. Jack had a way of doing that—making you feel like you were the only one in the room, even if there were a hundred people around.

You hesitated. 

“I was thinking about… us.”

He stopped mid-smirk, his gaze softening. 

“Us?”

You nodded, your heart thudding in your chest. 

“Yeah. My dad. He doesn’t want me to be around you. He thinks you're bad news.”

“I mean I’m not a saint” Jack let out a laugh, but there was no humor to it.

“I just want you to know, even if my dad doesn’t like you, I do, and thats what matters. My dad doesn’t see you when you get me flowers, or when you do little things for me. He only sees how you act on the ice as how you act in public. I see every part of you, and I love you.” you explain, looking up at him, both of you having tears in your eyes. 

“Cmon lets get out of here before I cry on the ice” Jack said softly

Later, as you and Jack wandered through the streets under the cover of darkness, the world felt like it belonged to just the two of you. You forgot about everything else,about your dad’s warnings. All that mattered was the feeling of Jack’s hand in yours, the sound of his laughter in the air, and the way he made you feel like nothing could go wrong.

So close your eyes Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

The evening air was warm but fading, the last remnants of daylight slipping away like the final notes of a song you didn’t want to end. You leaned against the hood of your car, watching the orange glow of the setting sun bleed into the horizon. It had been a long day. A long month, really. The constant pressure, the expectations, the routine—it all felt so heavy sometimes. You needed a break, needed to get away, even if it was just for a little while.

That’s when you saw the headlights coming down the road.

You smiled to yourself. Of course, it was Jack. He always knew when you needed a little escape.

The engine of his truck rumbled softly as he pulled up beside you. The moment the car stopped, he was already getting out, his familiar grin lighting up his face. You couldn't help but smile back, even though the weight of everything still tugged at you.

"Hey," he said, walking over to you with that relaxed, confident stride. "You ready to go?"

"Go?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Go where?"

Jack's grin only widened. 

"I don’t know. Somewhere better than here. Somewhere we can just... forget about everything. You in?"

You hesitated for only a moment. You knew what he was asking. You could already feel the excitement buzzing beneath your skin. Jack had this way of making things seem like they were going to be exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t know what you needed yourself.

"Yeah," you said, pushing yourself off the hood of the car. "Let’s go."

The two of you didn’t have a set destination. You never really did when it came to Jack. He wasn’t about planning, and somehow, that made everything feel a little more thrilling. He pulled out of your quiet suburban neighborhood, the low hum of the tires on the road accompanying the soft music playing from the radio.

"Think we’ll be back by sunrise?" you asked, your voice light with amusement, but also that quiet, giddy thrill that came with running away from everything.

Jack shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

"Who says we have to go back at all?"

You laughed softly, but the idea lingered in the back of your mind. Maybe Jack didn’t feel the pressure the way you did. Maybe he didn’t have the same worries about responsibilities and future decisions hanging over his head. You envied that about him sometimes. But there was also something freeing about being with him, about leaving it all behind, even if just for a few hours.

The town faded away, the bright lights replaced by the soft glow of moonlight as you drove down empty back roads, the windows rolled down, the air cooling your skin.

"So, what’s the plan?" you asked, turning your head toward him as he navigated the winding road. "What are we running away from this time?"

Jack gave you a sideways glance, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. "Not running away," he said softly. "Just... escaping. For a little while."

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words settle in. There was something about the way he said it—so simply, so effortlessly—that made everything feel like it would be okay. Like the world outside this little bubble of time you were creating didn’t matter.

"So close your eyes," Jack added, almost like he was reading your mind. "We’ll escape this town for a little while. No one can stop us."

You didn’t hesitate. You closed your eyes, just for a second, and let the rhythm of the truck’s engine, the cool breeze, and Jack’s presence wash over you. It wasn’t about where you were going—it was about being with him, leaving the small things behind, even if just for the moment.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

The night was still young, but it was already the kind of evening where the world seemed to quiet down. The sound of cicadas hummed lazily in the background, and the cool, crisp air of late summer hung around like a promise of change. You were sitting on the porch of your apartment, your feet tucked up underneath you as you leaned against the railing, watching the stars blink lazily in the dark sky above.

It had been one of those week, busy, hectic, filled with things that you had to do rather than the things you wanted to do. Work, friends, family, social obligations. Sometimes it felt like there wasn’t a moment for yourself, let alone a moment with Jack.

But tonight was different.

You glanced at your phone, checking the time for what felt like the hundredth time. Jack had texted you earlier, promising he’d be over soon. And now, as the minutes stretched on, your anticipation only grew.

Just as you were about to head inside, your phone buzzed with a new message.

Jack: "I’m here, just pulled up."

You smiled to yourself, already feeling that familiar excitement bubble up inside you. Jack was the kind of guy who always knew how to make things feel effortless. Even when life got chaotic, when schedules collided and time seemed to slip through your fingers, he always found a way to make sure you had your moments.

You grabbed your jacket from the chair beside you, stepping off the porch just as Jack’s truck rolled up to the curb. He parked, cut the engine, and hopped out with that same easy confidence that never failed to make your heart race.

“Hey,” you said softly as he approached, feeling the soft night breeze tug at your hair. Jack was wearing a hoodie and jeans, looking effortlessly casual yet impossibly cute.

“Hey,” Jack grinned, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. He immediately stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like a quiet reassurance. His arms wrapped around you as if to say, I’m here, and everything else can wait. You breathed him in, his scent, the warmth of his skin, the feeling of home.

After a beat, he pulled away slightly, cupping your face in his hands. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and tender, as if the rush of the world had quieted just for the two of you.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, the connection between you both undeniable.

Jack’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his lips curling into a smile. 

“I was thinking,” he started, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “What if we got away? Just the two of us. Somewhere we can be alone.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. You didn’t need him to say much else; you knew exactly what he meant. He was always so thoughtful, so aware of the small moments where you both could just step outside the chaos and into something that was just about the two of you.

You grinned, stepping back slightly to look him in the eyes. “

Somewhere we can be alone?” you repeated, a playful edge in your voice. “You really think you can get me to leave the city and have an adventure with you?”

Jack chuckled, his fingers brushing against yours. 

“You know I can,” he teased, his voice light. “All you have to do is say yes.”

You didn’t need much more convincing. 

“Alright, Romeo. Take me somewhere we can be alone.”

Jack’s smile widened, and without another word, he took your hand, leading you toward his truck. You could feel the weight of the world lifting as he opened the door for you, his hands gentle, as if everything in this moment was somehow sacred.

The ride was easy, the kind of drive that made you feel like the world was behind you and everything ahead was a little more exciting. The radio played quietly in the background, a mix of old songs and new tunes, the soft glow of the streetlights fading as Jack drove you both toward the outskirts of town.

You didn’t ask where you were going. It didn’t matter. With Jack, there was something freeing about letting go of control, about letting him lead you to a place where you could forget everything else.

You’ll never have to be alone, I love you and that's all I really know

It was one of those rare, quiet afternoons where time seemed to stretch, where the usual noise of the world quieted down, and all you could hear was the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat. You were curled up on the couch in Jack’s apartment, a soft blanket draped over your legs, while the faint sounds of an old playlist you both loved filled the room.

Jack was sitting beside you, his arm around your shoulders, a half-empty coffee cup in his hand. He hadn’t said much, but the comfort of his presence was enough. Sometimes, there was no need for words.

The week had been hectic, meetings, practices, and everything in between. Jack had a big game coming up, and you could see the exhaustion written on his face. But in these quiet moments, when the world outside was on pause, everything felt like it could wait. All that mattered was now.

You shifted slightly, your head finding its way to his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a peaceful calm. His hand rested gently on your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your skin.

"You know," Jack murmured after a while, his voice soft and warm, "sometimes I forget how much I love these quiet moments. Just us."

You smiled against his shirt, the weight of the words making your heart swell. You had always loved how easy it was to be with him, how, even in the rush of his busy life, he always found time for you.

"You say that now," you teased, glancing up at him with a playful smirk, "but wait until the next practice or game. You'll be back to your crazy, high-energy self."

Jack laughed, the sound of it filling your chest with warmth. 

"I guess you're right." He paused, then added, his tone shifting into something more sincere, "But even when everything’s moving fast, you're the one thing I know I can count on. I love you. And that's all I really know."

Your breath caught in your throat, his words landing like a soft touch against your soul. You lifted your head slightly to look at him, his brown eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You never have to be alone, you know that, right?" he added, his voice gentle but unwavering. "Not as long as I’m here."

There was something in the way he said it—like he meant every word, like he was offering you a promise. And in that moment, you knew with certainty that no matter what happened, no matter where life took you both, Jack would always be there.

You reached up to cup his face in your hands, studying the curve of his jaw, the warmth of his skin, the way his lips turned up ever so slightly when he looked at you. 

"I know," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I feel it every day. I love you, Jack."

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter in your chest. "I’m never going anywhere," he murmured, pulling you closer until his forehead was resting against yours. 

"You’ll never have to be alone."

The world outside continued to move, people rushing through their busy lives, their own challenges and struggles. But here, in this little bubble of calm, time seemed to stop. It was just the two of you, and that was enough.

"You’re my person, (Y/N)," Jack said, his words so quiet, so intimate. "And I’m yours."

You nodded, a slow smile forming as you wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself melt into the comfort of his embrace. 

"I know," you repeated softly, the words sinking deep into your heart. "And that’s all I really need."

For a long while, neither of you said anything more. You didn’t need to. The quiet moments, the stillness between you, were enough to convey everything that words couldn’t. And in the stillness of those moments, you knew that you were home.

As Jack gently kissed the top of your head, you realized that love didn’t have to be complicated. It didn’t have to be grand gestures or sweeping declarations. Sometimes, love was found in the quiet, in the little things, in the promise that no matter what, you’d always have each other.

And with Jack, you knew you would never have to be alone.

word count - 2911

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Runaway - Logan Howlett x platonic!Reader

A/N: This is a fox mutant!Reader story based on this request. I tried to get it as close to the request as I could, but idk if I succeeded. I think it’s good either way

Written for a gn!Reader

Reader is an unspecified age, but is a student and is called kid in the fic

CW: fox mutant!Reader; platonic!Reader; young!Reader; mentions of past bullying; Reader runs outside a lot; very mild Professor X hate; Reader has animal instincts; Reader has heightened senses; sorta written for original movie trilogy Logan; Reader is called kid; Reader is a little wild; Reader has animal characteristics; Reader adopts Logan into their pack; what is a praise kink without the kink part? A natural desire for praise, I guess???; I don’t know how to tag this; fluff

637 words

You hated the school.

It was too… clean. Too neat and tidy. Everything smelled… sterile. Like cleaning agents and sanitizer.

The kids were interesting, you supposed. You’d always considered your mutation a curse, given all the bullying it had caused at your old school. But now? Everyone was a weirdo here.

The teachers were even weirder. But they were accepting, so that was a bonus. You still hated the school though.

Most of the time, instead of going to class, you’d skip out and hide in the woods. Obeying your animal instincts begging you to run and jump and play and be feral. You’d always be found eventually, but it was fun while it lasted.

Today, you’re deeper in than you’ve ever been before. You’re stalking through the forest, reveling in the scent of the trees and the leaves and the grass. Basking in the wind and the sun and the fresh air.

You can feel the tug at your mind. The telltale voice murmuring it’s time to return. You hate the Professor for it. The way he so easily invades your mind. It’s why he never comes himself.

You, of course, ignore the call. Instead, you head deeper into the woods, following the sound of a nearby stream. It’ll be a couple hours at least before any of the usual teachers find you. More than enough time for a play break.

But it’s barely any time before a new scent filters through from upwind. Musky and thick, like cigars and engine grease. You tense, tail swishing uneasily.

It doesn’t smell like a hunter, but it also doesn’t smell like any of the teachers you know. You crouch, instinct making you press back and hide behind a tree. You go still, watching. Waiting.

The sound of footsteps approaches. They sound lighter than you’d expected. Soon the person comes into view.

It’s a man. Bulky and rugged, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. Smoking a cigar in the middle of the woods.

Maybe it’s his stance. Or the undertones of his scent, woodsy and soapy. Or maybe it’s the way he scans the area, clearly looking for you. As if he knows what he’s doing.

But he’s certainly different than the other teachers and something within you knows it. There’s a familiar sense to him. A predator instinct, just like yours. You decide you like him.

“Come on, kid. Professor wants you back.“

Yeah, you definitely like him. He sounds almost bored, but you can catch the note of sympathy in his tone. Somehow you know he knows you want to be out here. Maybe he does too.

With a sigh, you step out from behind your tree. Trudging up to him with your tail drooped and ears flattened. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

He studies you for a moment before nodding. “You’re good at running. That’s good. You’ll need to be.”

You blink. Tilt your head a little. You’ve only ever been told that your tendency to run is a problem. His words send a flood of pride through you.

Your ears unflatten and your tail sways a bit. You grin and show off your sharp teeth. A little more aggressive than needed, but you think he understands. You’re not some helpless human. Even young, you’re smart and full of fire.

For a moment, he seems to eye you with a bit of respect. Then he turns away. “Come on. It’s almost dinner time.”

He sets off at a quick pace and you follow easily. Yeah, you really like him. Anyone else would go slow or tell you to keep up. He’s different.

And you’re definitely adopting him into your pack. He’s given you a bite of praise and you want more. Whether he likes it or not, you’re his problem now.

No matter what anyone else says.

Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Two

Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush. 

Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine. 

You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker. 

Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization. 

You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’. 

“Hello?” You ask warily.

After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine. 

“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”

“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.

As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”

Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.” 

“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.

“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance. 

As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake. 

Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming. 

You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.

The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop. 

“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.

“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach. 

After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow. 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps. 

After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option. 

“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness. 

“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly. 

“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects. 

Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands. 

When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go. 

“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened. 

He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?” 

“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to. 

“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.

You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”

Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son. 

His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.

“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”

Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate. 

“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs. 

Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home. 

“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.

“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse. 

Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”

You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.

“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?” 

You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible. 

He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom. 

“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out. 

“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts  as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?” 

Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention. 

“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.

“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”

“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.

Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.

He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.

“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”

He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Plans and more plans...

Well, I certainly have less time to write, now, but that doesn't mean the ideas have stopped sprouting in my brain like little wildflowers. So here's a little breakdown of what I'm up to (also a way to keep myself accountable of my WIP'S).

Birthday Prompts:

Kid -

Fem!reader x Kid - "I can't pretend like everything's fine when I’m falling apart inside." - Super angsty! Only about 10% done.

Law -

Fem!reader x Law - "What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?" - inexperienced nerd Law. It's gonna be a cute one! About 30% done.

Ace -

Fem!reader x Ace - "How can you still trust me after everything I've done?" - suuuuper angsty one! Get ready for some tissues. About 20% done.

Other fics:

Kid -

Super cutesy story about our favourite hotheaded captain and some kisses - barely 5%, more of an idea, really.

Law -

Last 2 chapters of The Great Pretender. Chapter 17 is 40% done. This is priority!

Ideas -

Kid as the king of Hell - damn I have such a nice plot for this one! But it's going to have more than one chapter so I'll have to leave it for later. But it's going to have it all, angst fluff, adventure, world building! Gahhhh, I'm so excited! I'll probably only release it next year. We'll see.

The rest of the Meet-Cute boys! ❤️

Everyone excited? I sure am!

[starmieknight]

Besides showing my love for this AU through fanart, I have a question :D

You had already responded to this comment on AO3, but for those who are not from there, I had commented that I find The idea of Stan becoming an adventure-enthusiastic teenager, like Dipper, who after recovering the journals begins to inevitably become interested in everything in Gravity Falls

The question here is, what exactly would that look like? How do you imagine Stan might actually act on this idea?

Thank you for creating such beautiful drawings, I'm looking forward to updates on AO3

First off… OMG THANK YOU HE’S ADORABLE!!!! Would you mind if I put it in the fic?

As for cryptid chaser Stanley… I think he’d be super into chasing them down for the stories. Maybe he’ll be Dipper’s camera man when the kid eventually starts his own tv show. Or they team up and go looking for cryptids like a weird version of River Monsters, with Stan taking Jeremy Wade’s role. He’ll merchandise it too, selling MothMan and UFO and Bigfoot merch. Maybe include them in his comic books. He gets a Kraken tattoo after sailing with Ford that first summer. Gets his ears pierced after getting drunk with Wendy.

Spent too much time reading over Dipper’s shoulder for info on the portal and got sucked into the kid’s enthusiasm for the weird. He already had half a foot in the boat after growing up with Ford, telling Dipper about meeting the real Jersey Devil and capturing it ends with Dipper dragging him into the woods to find something new. He’s really charismatic when he wants to be. Ford gets annoyed when Stan gets more information from creatures after casual conversation than he did in the course of a month.

[voxofthevoid]

*banging pots and pans together* Goyuu gremlins, come get y'all fucking juice.

I say this as if I'm not inundating you in goyuu every week, but Gojou has been conspicuously absent from my current WIP for...10 chapters and over 70k words. A major character and one half of the endgame ship, and he shows up halfway through the story—JJK has got me making more and more novel (in terms of my writing) narrative choices with each fic.

Gotta say, it feels great to get back into writing Gojou. Last time I tackled him was at the end of September, for the fem!Gojou no-powers oneshot. The necrofic from October beginning has a lot of Gojou, sure, but he's a...well, a corpse. Sinking back into goyuu banter and interactions felt like coming home.

Now, here's Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #9, featuring Gojou Sluttoru Satoru in the flesh.

There’s a man on the platform.

It’s the height that startles Yuuji first. He’s freakishly tall. The tallest person Yuuji’s seen—unless he counts Sukuna, which he won’t. Besides, this guy’s all legs, and it’s weirdly fascinating how they move, smooth and graceful under shiny pants reflecting the platform lights. They eat up the platform with long, languid strides, getting closer and closer and—

Yuuji blinks, dragging his eyes from the man’s legs to a face that’s a lot closer than he expects, even though he has to crane his neck to make eye contact—kind of. The man’s wearing sunglasses, those thick black ones that show nothing of what’s underneath, so Yuuji just ends up staring at his own distorted reflection.

His eyes are wide, his mouth a little open. Yuuji closes it, his teeth clicking together.

The height isn’t the only startling thing about the man. His hair is a shock of white, messy strands covering his forehead and even falling over the sunglasses. And Yuuji’s got no leg to stand on when it comes to people with eye-catching coloring, but there’s still something about this man that makes it hard to look away.

“Hi?” he offers warily.

“Hello,” comes the answer, immediate and cheerful. “You a local?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”

A tilt of the head. Those snowy strands shift with mesmerizing motions. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Why…am I reassuring you?”

The man claps, once. “Good point! You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

Yuuji’s so confused. “No?”

“Hmm, you don’t sound very sure about that either.” The man leans closer, which involves a lot of bending. Yuuji blinks at his reflection in the glasses, which blinks right back. “Nah, you’re too cute to be a serial killer.”

“Thanks, I think. Who are you?”

“Gojou Satoru!” The man declares, straightening up and sticking out an arm. “And who are you, my young, uncertain friend?”

Yuuji takes the proffered hand. It’s big, almost swallowing his whole hand when it closes around it. There’s warmth too, seeping boldly into his flesh.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he introduces himself. “I’m very confused.”

“I did get that impression.”

“No, I mean, you’re—” Yuuji shakes his head. “Never mind. Why are you asking weird questions?”

“Hey now,” the man says, his lips pressing into a pout. They’re very shiny. And pink. “Those were very sensible questions. There’s no point asking for directions from a non-local, is there? And it’d be very unwise of me to put myself in the maw of a murderer.”

“Well,” Yuuji says, slightly less confused, “I’m not a murderer. And I do live here. Moved here a few months back. Pretty sure I can give you directions. To where?”

“A recent transplant. I see,” Gojou murmurs, his head still tilted slightly down. Despite the opaque glasses, Yuuji has the distinct sense of being looked at. “Would you happen to know the way to the Fushiguro household, Itadori Yuuji-kun?”

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji repeats. “You know him? Or are you here for Tōji-san?”

“Both,” Gojou says, his smile widening. The glossy gleam of his lips doesn’t hide how sharp the expression is, and for the first time, Yuuji really takes in the rest of his face—the chiseled jaw, the straight nose, the prominent cheekbones. A sharp face, but pretty too. Like Fushiguro’s, except that while Fushiguro’s soft around the edges, this man looks like he’ll cut if touched. “—to me?”

Yuuji blinks back to himself, trying and failing to make sense of what Gojou just said. “Huh?”

That smile grows even bigger, flashing a hint of very white teeth. “I asked if you’re listening to me?”

“Oh. No,” Yuuji admits. “Sorry?”

Gojou hums, tilting his head like a curious cat. “I don’t think you are. But I’ll forgive it if you’re a good boy and take me to the Fushiguros.”

Yuuji swallows, his throat very dry. “I could, but…”

“But?”

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer, Gojou-san?”

Gojou snorts. It’s an ugly sound, rough and nasal. Something inside Yuuji unclenches, like that’s the proof he needed that this guy is human and not some abnormally pretty dream he conjured up. It’d be a kinder dream than usual, but Yuuji can’t trust his imagination anymore.

“I’m too handsome for that, don’t you think?” Gojou asks, his grin grown lopsided.

“Yeah, but—” Yuuji makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm, covering Gojou as well as the rest of the platform. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“So there is a brain under all that pink fluff,” Gojou says, his tone weirdly approving.

“I don’t think you get to talk about anyone’s hair,” Yuuji points out, eyeing Gojou’s snow-white strands again.

But Gojou just tosses his hair like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “It’s all natural.”

“So is mine,” Yuuji says drily. “Not the point.”

“Oh? What is your point then?”

“Serial killing. I think.” Yuuji shakes his head. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll take you to the Fushiguros’ place. Do anything weird and I’ll punch you.”

“Careful,” Gojou purrs. “I might be into that.”

Yuuji just looks at him for a moment, before taking in the rest of the platform with half a mind to foist this guy off on someone else. There’s no one, obviously. It’s not like this place is bustling even during what was the rush hour back at Sendai. Nanami and Yuuji were alone the entire time they waited, and he’s pretty sure no one but Gojou got off from the train.

Plus, he probably shouldn’t inflict this guy on anyone else. Yuuji doesn’t think he’s a bad person or anything, but he’s kinda weird. And Yuuji’s pretty immune to stranger danger.

Except when he walks into cursed churches.

“Come on then,” Yuuji says. “It’s getting late, and Tōji-san usually turns in early.”

Gojou’s lips and cheeks do something very weird. “Fushiguro Tōji has a bedtime.”

“Uh, not exactly—”

Yuuji’s cut off by demented laughter—full-on cackling, filling up the open air of the empty platform. All he can do is watch, nonplussed, until Gojou calms down, and even that’s startlingly abrupt, the noise stopping so suddenly that the resulting silence seems to boom.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gojou says, not sounding all that sincere. “That was just too funny. Guess the single dad life suits him.”

Yuuji thinks of what Fushiguro sounds like every time he has to talk about his dad. “I…wouldn’t say that. Anyway, you coming?”

“Sure,” Gojou says easily. “You going to let me go first, or are we holding hands the whole way?”

“What’re you—”

Yuuji realizes the answer before he even finishes the question, blinking down at his own hand—still clasped firmly around Gojou’s bigger one. He lets go quickly, snatching it back. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with it. Wiping it on his pants would be rude. And it’s not like Gojou’s palm was sweaty or anything. It was just warm, and Yuuji’s whole hand sparks like it’s stolen that heat for itself. He settles for folding his arms across his chest. 

Gojou looks entirely too amused. “Pity.”

“Don’t tease me,” Yuuji grumbles, hoping the heat on his face doesn’t actually show on the skin; he knows his odds though, and they’re not good. He’s about to march off, leaving Gojou to choose whether to follow, when something occurs to him. “Wait, are you…”

“Yes?” Gojou prods after a moment, that curling grin still in place.

Yuuji squints up at him, specifically the sunglasses. He doesn’t think Gojou’s blind. People wear sunglasses all the time, though he’s rarely seen ones so dark. And Gojou navigated the platform pretty easily earlier, no cane or anything. Still, the thought won’t leave his head, and Yuuji’s mind refuses to accept the vague sense of being watched as enough proof, so he asks, “Are you blind?”

“How blunt,” is Gojou’s response. “I like that in people.”

“That’s not—”

—an answer, Yuuji doesn’t say because Gojou proceeds to give him an answer, raising one long-fingered hand to pluck his sunglasses off.

A maelstrom of blue slams into Yuuji.

He’s seen blue eyes more than a few times. People he knew, people he passed in the street. Bright ones, dark ones. Then there’s Fushiguro, whose eyes act like some deep-sea trench, shifting from dark green to depthless blue based on the lighting and his mood.

But he’s never seen eyes like these.

It’s not just one shade of blue, but every blue, all at once. Thin threads of shuddering color, spreading out from pupils that swallow all light. It’s breathtakingly bright, like the colors are reaching out of the eyes to claw at the air. Or maybe they’re just swirling inside, chasing each other inside the confines of those irises.

A part of Yuuji knows that he’s imagining it, that Gojou’s eyes aren’t actually nuclear ghosts. But that logic doesn’t quite penetrate the blue haze in his head.

Gojou blinks, cutting off that stream of color, and Yuuji sucks in a breath like a drowning man.

[inukag-archive]

Hi! I was wondering if you could recommend your favorite InuKag works. It can be about anything. ☺️

Hello, @heynikkiyousofine, long time no answer! When we received your ask, we'd had an few mod favourites grace the blog, so we put it on the back burner for a time. The time is now so we can introduce @kstewdeux; our newest member of the Fic Finder Team!

To answer this, we set ourselves a goal: pick 3 fics that have never been recommended. Each mod has listed theirs below, and we've included our previous lists at the end! Happy reading ♥

Important Note: Some of these fics are incomplete, despite being marked as such, and have not been updated in a very long time. We've marked incomplete fics with an asterisk (*) before the title for those who wish to avoid them.

KStew

Flat Line by Salvatore Shan SW (T)

When Inuyasha collapses in front of Kagome's house, its a race to find out what's wrong with him. As a hanyou, Kagome didn't think he could even get sick but is he enjoying being ill? Up until he's rushed to hospital, at least.

Gone Swimming by Quickening (X)

A peaceful woodland on the hottest day of the year. A shallow river flowing through the woods. A naked hanyou sleeping peacefully on the bank. An equally naked Kagome discovering him there. 'Nuf said.

Live and Let Die by doggieearlover (X)

InuYasha has been missing for five days. Kagome wants to search for him, but the others wish to sit and wait for his return. In desperation Kagome strikes off alone, in the middle of the night, in the attempt to find the hanyou. Will she be able to find him on her own, before it is too late?

Anisa

Kiss Me at Twilight by BlueMoon Goddess (M)

They were best friends since high school. But after the kiss they shared on New Year's Eve, feelings and desires he's never felt before come rushing in. Can he convince her that what they're feeling is real, that their meant to be more than just friends?

*Fade and Flare by Pinku (X)

Kagome, Japan's number one pop star, has fame, money, and a superstar boyfriend. All she wants is to be happy. All her overprotective manager Inuyasha wants, though, is her… How long can they last like this?

*Zero G by Torenza (M)

Kagome unwittingly falls into a deadly game as the victim of a conspiracy. The players are ruthless, and Kagome is way out of her depth, especially when the stakes are life and death.

Lost

*To Catch a Demon by Alaviles (M)

Kagome and Inuyasha were able to live in marital bliss. At least, that's what she thought. But Inuyasha has been feeling rather restless about his life. While yearning for an experience of a time now gone, chaos ensues, and he must learn to accept a reality he would never have dreamed up for himself. One he will never wish to give up again. (Ongoing)

In Our Pocket of the World (Series) by Emmyyasha (G-E)

Inuyasha and Kagome may be stuck together in Quarantine, but they don't need to leave their apartment to have an adventure together.

The Darkest of Nights by kiichandesu (T)

He isn't afraid of the dark, but the night of the new moon always finds him terrified. Until it doesn't.

Pixie

*Not How it's Done by @dyaz-stories (K+)

After a one-night stand, Kagome finds out she's pregnant. She chooses to keep the baby but discovers, nine months later, that the kid is a half-demon. When she runs into the father by chance, it feels important to them both to do their best to raise the kid together.

The Fae and the Contract by @cstorm86 (E)

Kagome's mother is very sick. After having lost her father years ago to illness, she is terrified of losing her mother too. There are tales of a fae in the great forest who can make deals and save others. Can the fae save her mother? She has to at least try.

*Nextlahualtin by @procrastinatorrexii & @moonkissedart (M)

Once, Kagome had believed her grandfather was just an eccentric. A priest who, after long days of ritual and spellwork and dealing with politics and problems and the complexities of the Great City, liked to amuse himself by telling outlandish stories about the gods. Once he is killed, in a brutal and baffling way, she is left with no choice but to hope that at least one of his wild tales was actually true.

Could there really be a god dwelling among them? And, if there is, what else might be out there, waiting in the shadows?

Mama

Inextricably Knotted by ssukidesu (M)

Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho. But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

your flesh is so nice, let me take a bite - by @doginabirdcage (E)

Kagome's taken a new job with the prolific Taisho law firm in Osaka to advance her budding career. Everything's going rather well until Toga's youngest son shows up for work.

Necessities by Bee_Tawon (M)

Inuyasha and Kagome have a chance encounter with some rogue bandits. Kagome learns what it means to survive in Sengoku Jidai.

Rudd

Slave to the Heart by LovingmyKitsune (M)

She never once imagined to find herself unhappy. However, a sudden upset throws this young at heart girl into a whirlpool of emotion and conflict. Complexities and truths are discovered and all she can do is hold on tight, hoping for a miracle. InuKag

It's Written in the Stars by ElmOak1991 (M)

Kagome paled when she realized they were gone. Days ago she had told Inuyasha that she was going home to stay. She couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t pretend to be okay with being second best in his heart. It hurt too much to know he loved Kikyo more. Now that her jewel shards were gone, she found herself falling to the floor with tears in her eyes. He didn’t even say goodbye before taking away her choice of returning. Her heart broke as she thought about all she had lost. The people who had become her family. Five years have passed since that day, and the memory still stung. She would never forgive him for taking her choice away. Never. However, moving on from her past is proving harder than she would have thought.

I'll Find a Way by Gabrielle015 (M)

Everyone he ever knew and loved thinks he's dead. Being an agent was never an easy feat, but being separated from his friends and the love of his life has taken a toll on him. Three long years after his 'death' Inuyasha is completing several missions in hopes to defeat Naraku and go home. Would Kagome still be waiting for him, or had she found someone else?

Previous Mod Lists:

Mod Comfort Fics

Mod Favorites

Mod’s Favorite Ongoing Fics (as of mid-2022)

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered.  After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

[sapphicflower-ao3]

what are ur personal favorite fics? i can be a bit picky and have a hard time finding fics but i love ur writing and i feel like we might have similar tastes based on that :3

i'm sorry it took me like a week to get to this!! i wanted to compile my faves and write notes for each of them... and i went overboard LOL. but thanks so much omg, i'm flattered that you would trust my taste based on my writing!

these are all bkdk obviously :)

i. 'In Case of Fire' - passengerside

post-canon // complete // 11K // E

an absolute MASTERPIECE!!! this author has become a recent favourite of mine, i love the way they incorporate little details into their work and make the mundane so beautiful.

highly recommend all of their other works, especially 'Pacemaker'! so freaking beautiful and fun and the lead up to the confession was a genuine holding-my-breath moment

ii. 'Sun Hands' - yesthisisnarumi

snowboarding AU // complete // 5K // T

i've re-read this one so many times it's SOOOOO good! so fun and so classically bkdk it's insane. everybody say thank you OP for giving us the rival olympic champions to lovers story we needed

iii. 'all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing' - maxisnotokay

UA compliant // complete // 11K // T

i dont usually read a lot of whump but this was brilliant, im a sucker for this specific trope and for LOVE CONFESSIONS YEASS!!! obvi it has a happy ending bc i wouldnt have it any other way. a good length too :)

iv. 'Spinnin' On Our Feet' - sage_and_cinnamon

High School AU // ongoing // 47K // M

UNDERRATED AS FUCK and my favourite ongoing fic right now. i usually dont read jock x nerd AUs but this fic is so brilliantly funny and charming and heartwarming and it blew all my expectations out of the water and then some. i've been following it for ages and it's been on hiatus for a good while, but it updated recently and when i tell you it was the best day of my freaking life...

v. 'In Perfect Rhythm' - chalk

Band AU // complete // 50K // E

yes how surprising, a band AU fic in my faves list. anyway shut up, chalk is literally godlike in their writing and this fic was SO FUN and scratched all the itches. nothing gets me going more than awkwardly endearing izuku n rockstar katsuki

vi. 'Last Days of War' - antisora

Pacific Rim AU // complete // 44K // M

GENUINELY ONE OF HUMANITY'S BEST PIECES OF LITERATURE???? fuck. i never have the proper words for this fic, but it is SO gripping and the worldbuilding is so tight and their relationship development is so good and the CLIMAX OF THIS HAS BEEN MORE EPIC THAN HALF THE BLOCKBUSTERS I'VE SEEN. i beg you to read this even if you have never watched Pacific Rim. or maybe go watch the movie and get EDUCATED and then read this! i'm begging you, dear reader!!

vii. 'Ingenium' - crandberrycrush

Astronauts AU // complete // 85K // E

guys i love sci-fi sorry lol. this one is another brilliant fic. OP put so much blood, sweat and tears into research and it shows, it is just very intelligent and the plot itself is HEART RACING and GUTTING and THRILLING. there's a lot of POVs and it really fleshes it out, tho ofc bkdk is the main thing. happy ending obvi! it is the space/astronaut drama that i love and adore, just BKDKified now!

viii. 'The Magic in a Mirror' - totallyrottentomatoes

Magic/Circus AU // complete // 80K // E

oh how surprising, a totallyrottentomaoes fic in my faves list. anyone who knows me knows that i rec this fic all the time. it's one of my all time favourites, if not my favourite of all time lol, and it's really because of the writing and the imagery and the characterisation and the relationships b/w all the characters. it's all just so well done and MAGICAL. no joke, if i could print and bind a fic into a book, it would be this one. no notes. perfection. caters to my tastes so specifically. i could go on about this fic forever but i'll shut up for now

also highly recommend 'The Distance Between Suns' by this author - it's a high fantasy epic with TIGHT AS FUCK worldbuilding, brilliantly written, the romance is BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN, the payoffs are amazing, etc... this deserves to be published and revered

ix. 'Battle of the Bands' - roadtripwithlucifer

Band AU // complete // 168K // E

look i know i always rec this fic, i just can't help that it's like my favourite thing ever. roadtripwithlucifer and totallyrottentomatoes my BELOVEDS. the humour in this fic is so fucking yummy and brilliant, the writing is gorgeous in typical roadtrip fashion, the stakes are gripping, the climax is thrilling, the romance n yearning is INTENSE, the sex is hot as hell, the ending is so satisfying, just..... the whole package.

and while you're here, read other roadtripwithlucifer works like 'Nothing Else Fills' if you feel like destroying your heart :) an angsty and beautifully written time-travel-to-save-my-kacchan-gone-wrong war AU fic. i love OP's works but her more recent fics (eg. after battle of the bands) have had some of her best writing. i adore it when you can feel how an author has poured their soul into their work, you can always feel it in a roadtripwithlucifer work and it's just the cherry on top

x. 'Scar Tissue' - Loriqod

canon-compliant // complete // 18K // E

loriqod is another author with a characterisation that i fuck with so hard... this one was so full of that Yearning and Tension that i so vibe with. bonus points to the plots focus on bkdk's scars like yes pls more of that <3

anyway i might make a part 2 some other time, these are just the ones i grabbed from my public bookmarks. i have a lot of private ones and some of them i forgot to make public oops

hope u find smth u enjoy!

[runawaymun]

Hey! Any advice on writing multi chaptered fics or just longer stories?

I feel like I'm okay for like snippets but have no idea how to write the middle of a story or move a character or story from point a to point b.

And asking you because you're writing is phenomenal and I'd love some advice.

(But if no brain space for advice I totally get that too and feel free to hide this ask or something)

(Anyway great updates on boundless and the one shot Brimbrond)

Sorry for taking so long to respond to this! I just wanted to take some good time to gather my thoughts because oh man oh boy I am a bit of a nerd about plot structure, even if I pants it a lot of the time -- because middles and structure absolutely plagued me when I was a beginner and so I spent a long, long time studying it and breaking it down.

I'm going to start with some very, very basic advice and then get into some more specific stuff. So let's talk first about how to structure a long-form plot first.

DISCLAIMER: this is how I personally structure plots. More often than not I veer off my own track. And this is a very western way of structuring a plot. It's well worth looking into how storytellers from around the world structure their work because it can vary wildly (Miyazaki is a great example of this). Take this with a grain of salt. It's a guideline which I find helpful. This is going to get very, very long. Bear with me:

When I'm first thinking about how to create a plot around a story I want to tell, this is the process I walk myself through, and it tends to work about 75% of the time for the stories I like to tell (I'm not much of a thriller or mystery writer and those tend to have different kinds of structure). Main recipe is as follows:

Status quo - establish the setting and the character. Do this by the middle-to-end of chapter one, preferably. You can get away with drawing it out a bit in sci-fi or fantasy works that require more worldbuilding, but try not to.

Inciting incident - I won't tell you to start in media res, as that varies from writer to writer and story to story. Generally you want to have this somewhere in chapters 1-3. Say we're talking about LOTR - I'd say the inciting incident is when Bilbo goes invisible at his birthday party and leaves for retirement. Everything sort of snowballs from there (Gandalf confirming this is The One Ring, the Ring being passed to Frodo, the adventure beginning, etc. etc). This is where your character can lose something, or be confronted with a huge problem, or gain some new information. This is the point where your story really picks up.

Point of no return - your character has been presented with a problem or is put in a situation and now they have to decide what to do about it. Sometimes characters choose to run away, or choose inaction. It's up to you and your character as to what they do next.

The annoying part - the most helpful way I've ever found to think about middles is in terms of a series of decisions and consequences. Your character must decide what to do (or try to get what they want), and this will then come with consequences to those decisions. I ignore a lot of writing advice because writers seem to be very cagey about how they compose middles and plots for some reason, but the one piece I heard that helped me was: "What does my character want, and what stops them from getting it?" -- and this can be anything, right? Frodo wants (has to) take the Ring to Mordor. Luke wants to learn to be a Jedi like his father. Inspector Poirot needs to catch the murderer. Odysseus wants to return home. Each of these characters are going to make a series of decisions toward their goal, and they may be working from incomplete information, or bad paradigms, or racing against the clock, or against impossible odds. They're going to make mistakes. Over and over and over again. The middle is a series of decisions, consequences for those decisions, and obstacles (more on that later).

Point of no return 2, electric boogaloo (i.e. the actual midpoint to the story) - the part right before the climax -- the climax IS NOT the midpoint of your story, nor is it the end. This is your midpoint where Everything Fucking Sucks. Your character's back is against the wall. They have to change, or fail.

Paradigm shift: your character learns something new, or develops in some crucial way that leads to:

The climax/confrontation: 3/4 - 7/8th of the way through your plot. Frodo decides to keep the ring. Luke uses the force to blow up the death star. Anakin's fear and the manipulation from Palpatine overtakes him and he turns to the dark side. Inspector Poirot gets his last crucial piece of information and gathers everybody together for the Big Reveal. Odysseus gets home and chases the suitors out of his house. Etc. Etc. This is that Big Point in the story we all think as the most important or crucial point (but it's not. That's the key here. THE most important point is the whole middle of how we got here).

Consequences and paradigm shift 2 electric boogaloo: varies from story to story, but this is the fallout of the last decision or confrontation. Your character may reflect on what they've learned. The killer goes to jail. Frodo returns to the Shire and it's saved, but not for him. The journey your character has been on has irreparably altered them, or the world around them -- for better or for worse.

Resolution: the place where you land the story ;) what is the final impression you want your readers to have of your character, or this world?

Alright so that's all kind of nebulous. Let me give you a slightly more specific form of this plot structure that I use pretty often, because I almost exclusively write character and relationship-driven stories since that's what interests me most:

So most of this looks much the same (the inciting incident is some kind of meetcute. The characters then have to decide if they want to have some kind of relationship -- I like to name this part the callback). Then we have a whole weird squishy section of building interest and tension, before once again we have The Big Fight (darkest before the dawn or what have you), before one or both characters have some kind of paradigm shift, they confess their feelings (or resolve the fight or whatever), and the security of the relationship is established -- happy go lucky times, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

So the middle here is of course still squishy and nebulous, but the focus here is still on "What decisions are the characters making? What are the consequences of those decisions? What are they learning, and how do they respond to it?" Maybe the tension is in one character being more reticent, while the other is more open. Maybe the tension is a sexual tension (will they, won't they?). Maybe a character is working off of incomplete information, or a misunderstanding, and that needs to be cleared up before the relationship (or even their own personal growth) can progress (both Elrian and Thalionel in Stars and Boundless Sky follow this pattern). The middle is a push-pull between your character's desires and outside forces that are stopping them from getting what they want, or achieving what they want to achieve.

So okay, that's all well and good. That's basic plot structure. Let me get into my thought process about middles specifically:

Begin with your ending in mind. I do not mean that you need to have like the whole resolution to your story fleshed out. If you're that kind of writer, great! But if you're more of a pantser like me, then that can be a big ask. Instead, ask yourself: what do I want my character to have learned by the end of the story? How do I want them to have changed, or grown? Do I want it to be for better, or for worse? Is there a specific plot goal you have in mind? (saving the world, or catching the murderer, solving the mystery, exorcizing the ghost, the couple getting together at the end, the found family finally gelling with each other, or whatever).

Once you have that thought in mind, now start to think about what your character might need to get from their starting point to their ending point. If it's a murder mystery, this is your information gathering section. You can lead your character to wrong or right conclusions. Have them make mistakes. Etc. etc. If it's a romance, this is where you create a string of scenes where the characters have opportunities to interact and learn more about each other (works for platonic slowburns, too). If this is a traditional hero's journey, this is where you plop in your actual journey.

Not to repeat this ad nauseum, but your middle is all about getting your character to your end goal, but in the most difficult way possible lmao. Let them make mistakes. Let them make bad decisions -- and then follow through with the consequences of those bad decisions. Give them bad information. This is where understanding your character's fundamental flaws becomes extremely important. Your entire plot, imo, stems from your character's fundamental flaws -- because ultimately that is what is going to slow them down the most from reaching their goal. Sure, you may have the big bad evil guy (bbeg), but we're not worried about him. That's an external factor and that's easy to drop in when you need a quick problem to place in front of your protagonist -- but that problem needs to be in service to your character or your worldbuilding. Teach them something. Give them an opportunity for growth. Aragorn needs to lead at Helm's Deep so he can inhabit his leadership role. The mountain pass of Caradhras needs to force the Fellowship through the mines so that Gandalf falls fighting the Balrog and comes back leveled up and ready to fight, and other characters in the fellowship have a chance to grow into their roles without relying on Gandalf for leadership. Your middle is all about crafting little opportunities for character growth, always while moving toward your end goal -- whatever that may be.

The paradigm shifts are crucial, and they can shift for better or for worse. It's up to you and your characters and the story you want to tell as to which it'll be.

If you're bored, your reader is bored. Only write what excites you, skip all the rest, and make it make sense at the end -- I'm so serious. Yes you need to add in breaks for pacing (like the whole Rivendell section in LOTR), but in those breaks still make sure that you're either expanding your worldbuilding, or giving your characters and opportunity for growth.

If you want to tell a really long (novel length) type of story, sideplots and alternate POVs are your best friend. They are structured exactly the same as a regular plot, they're just simpler or smaller and generally work in service to the main plot. Maybe there are side characters or side relationships you'd like to develop. Maybe there's a smaller mystery or a part of your worldbuilding you'd like to explore. Action plots can be side plots to romantic or platonic slowburn plots, just as much as it can be the other way around. And this is not something you need to structure out the gate. Just be curious and playful. Find points in your story that interest you, and explore them a bit. You'll find that they expand the story.

Biggest and best tip I can give you, when all is said and done, is to decide what kind of story you want to tell and then examine how other people are doing it. If you want to write a superhero story, pick out your favorites and look at how they're structured. If you want to write a mystery, same thing. If you're writing a romance or a drama, again -- same thing. Look at the pieces of fiction that you like, figure out what you like about it, and then apply it to your own work.

That's all the general advice off the top of my head. IDK how helpful this was lol. If you want more tips on middles I can try to look at it a bit more in depth, but to be quite honest middles are really what defines a genre. Romances have different middles to thrillers. Thrillers have different middles to mysteries. Mysteries have different middles to dystopian sci-fis. Etc. Etc. So take the general advice with a grain of salt and look more specifically at the genre of story that you're looking to tell.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk <3

[lightwithinthedarknessu]

Destined ※ Star Speckled Sunset  

A SoKai Fic written for @twosidesfanzine

I had a deliciously sweet time writing for @twosidesfanzine and was paired with the wonderful @wiavi who created the most beautiful spot art for the story! Leftover sales are still open so head on over here to pick up your very own sokai and rokunami cookbook!

Thank you so much for having me!

Summary: As the first step on their next journey, Sora and Kairi return to the Islands to fulfill a long-held tradition. Along the way they meet a few friends and reaffirm just how sweet it is to cook together side by side. Set post-KH3, featuring familar friends from the Islands, seafaring folklore, reaffirmed oaths, new outfits, and descriptions of delicious sweets.

Full fic under read more and on AO3

Kairi took a deep breath, savoring the soft breeze as she stepped onto the island shore. Their round-trip visit to Master Yen Sid’s was longer than expected, earning a stretch and a yawn from Sora as he exited the Gummi Ship. His dark red hoodie peeked out from underneath his dark grey and black cotton jacket. Paired with his lax and loose cargo pants, Sora looked like he had finally grown into his clothes. Kairi jogged up behind him, dressed from head to toe in a long light pink overcoat. Her pink plaid flare dress swayed as she linked arms with Sora, beaming at the realization they’d made it back, safe and sound.

Sora and Kairi were done for now with fighting Heartless, Nobodies, and denizens of darkness. Their long-held promise of traveling the worlds was a reality. When deciding where they would begin their journey, the islands were an obvious choice. A world filled with greetings and partings. It only seemed fitting that they meet with their friends before going off on a long journey.

Kairi was practically giddy at first. But now, seeing their little island off in the distance, her eyes began to sting. The image of Sora fading away shimmered in her mind’s eye. Her racing heart faltered at the memory as she clung to him a bit tighter.

“It feels just like yesterday, that we were here,” she said, taking another breath to steady herself.

Sora tilted his head, not sure what brought on her sudden change. But a grin soon spread across his face as he put an arm around her waist to pull her closer. “Hmm, just tells you that nothing really changes! I’m glad, it’s nice to be back. I can’t wait to see everyone!”

Kairi reddened at their sudden closeness before easing into his rhythm. Sora was right, the Islands never changed, not really. Even if they had, it was a comfort to return to a place so closely tied to their hearts. “Yeah, and this time we aren’t saying goodbye, not really. It’s more like we’re setting off again and it’s an exciting journey. I can’t wait to see what other worlds we’ll find!” Kairi giggled as she broke free from his embrace and ran ahead of him. The tall hill before them extended off past the horizon.

Sora put his hands on his hips and drank in the scene of his hometown. There were a few new rooftops and terraces sprinkled about, but all in all, it was the same sleepy little beachside town he loved. “Yeah! I wanna see all that’s out there. But I’m glad to be back home for a bit, one last time before we set off on our own adventure. No Heartless, no Nobodies, just the two of us.” Sora beamed at her. It was a smile as bright as the sun on a clear summer’s day. Kairi felt all her past worries fade into the shadows cast by his light.

“Hmm, there may be some Heartless around. But I know you and I can take 'em!” Kairi pumped a fist as Sora fell into light laughter beside her.

“I know,” he said, gripping her hand a bit tighter. “So, where should we stop by first?”

Kairi traced the outline of a small square of double-folded paper in her jacket pocket. There was a place she wanted to go, and something she wanted to do—fulfill a dream she’d had for a long time. “Do you remember—when your mother first invited me over for your father’s Voyager Dinner?”

“Yeah, of course!” Sora grinned.

“Your mom…she told me the legend behind it, back then you know,” Kairi began.

***

It was both long ago, and yet just yesterday that a treasured memory took root in Kairi’s heart one sunset-kissed evening. It all began after a full day at the beach looking for sea glass with Sora. The two had taken their little haul and rushed to O’aka’s Odds and Ends, fully expecting to stuff their cheeks with candy before dinner. O’aka would usually buy the little bobbles from the kids in exchange for a bottle of Ramune or sweets. But not this evening. Instead, the two ran into Sora’s mother, who was out shopping for a “Voyager’s Dinner.”

“What’s a Voyager’s Dinner?”

“A seafarer’s wish of good luck,” Sora’s mother explained. 

Sora soon stepped in with his own excitement and described how delicious the dessert was—asserting that Kairi had to have dinner with them and try it.

Wide-eyed and filled with curiosity, Kairi stood next to Sora’s mother in the kitchen that night, her tiny hands gripping the counter as she diverted all her attention to the woman’s careful movements. A gentle folding of dough and a scattering of cubes of butter left the little girl salivating. As Sora’s mother began to smooth the dough, Kairi dared to ask what it was she was making. What made it so special? Slowly, the woman’s voice filled with the crackle of the warmth of a fire and weaved a tale.

“Long ago, the seas were rougher and the night sky darker than it is now. Only a few stars twinkled in the sky and could guide seafarers to their destination. The mainland itself was larger, much larger than it is now, and connected to so many other villages. And the sea, well, it was so large that you could travel hours by boat and only barely see the shore of another island. Our people, spurred on by the tales of passing travelers, took up their masts and set out to sea to find new lands, aware of the dangers and all they could lose.

Still, despite the pleas of their families , many decided they must set off for broader horizons. And so, the mothers, fathers, lovers, and friends banded together to wish their passionate travelers well. One proposed that they use the mystical properties of the paopu to ensure their loved ones would return. Another felt they should make a dish that could give them the warmth of home for one last time. And so, they put their heads together and created something that could give both. A crust so thin and crumbly, filled with the richest butter to sate their appetites. A smooth crème to cut the fat, and lastly topped with the tart soul-connecting fruit.

They say that even after the world changed and the stars in the sky grew in number, eating this tart brought their loved ones home even years later. And so we continue to make it as a send-off, a way to wish them a safe voyage home and remind them of the connection we share. We don’t use the paopu much anymore…but I like to sneak it in. Don’t tell anyone else, ok?” 

***

Back then Kairi had giggled and found herself dreaming of what it would be like to create her own tart for someone she loved. And now was the perfect time to make that dream a reality. She licked her lips as she fumbled with the small slip of paper in her hand.

“I had forgotten about it—the recipe I mean. Until I remembered your name again. Somehow, I knew I’d see you again soon so—I asked your mom for it.” Kairi gingerly handed Sora the recipe and placed her hand over his. “I couldn’t find the right time to make it till now but…this time...”

Sora’s eyes were focused on her the whole time, searching her expression for the truth behind her eyes. He knew what she wanted to say and it made his heart flutter. “Let’s make it together since we’re leaving again. We can go say hi to everyone while we shop for ingredients!”

Kairi beamed. He always seemed to notice what she wanted to do even before she said the words. Hand in hand the two headed off to find all they needed.

***

Word got out fast around Destiny Islands. For a seafaring village, gossip and new arrivals were always the talk of the town, so Sora and Kairi’s return didn’t go unnoticed. Reunions abounded with familiar faces, some tearful and others filled with laughter as the two visited store after store hunting for ingredients. The pair even stopped by O’aka’s and ran into a bubbly Selphie who got in a few teasing comments. 

“Here for some special ‘announcement’ to your parents before going off again?”

Kairi and Sora bashfully took a glance at one another—they had never told anyone how committed they were, yet Selphie already knew at a glance. Now wasn’t the time, but maybe someday they’d share everything with their families and friends. 

As Kairi and Sora gathered their ingredients, a familiar pair of friends entered the shack with the loudest and cheeriest of greetings. Tidus and Wakka, although a bit taller, had hardly changed at all. Kairi admired how easily the two conversed with Sora as if no time had passed since he’d last been home. It was heartening to see how much of an impact he still had on their hearts. With a brisk goodbye and promise of a reunion, the two bid farewell to their friends. 

Before leaving, Selphie slipped a grateful Kairi a bag of fruits. Inside shined a ripened paopu fruit. With a wink and a smile, a girl starving for the future juicy details wished her traveling friend good luck.  

****

Kairi was reminded of Sora’s cooking skills immediately upon entering his mother’s kitchen. Although it had been years, the boy knew where everything was kept and didn’t miss a beat gathering the pots and pans they needed.

Joy filled his features as the two poured over his mother’s detailed recipe. Kairi could tell he was excited to use what he had learned from Remy on a dish all his own. Teasingly, she suggested that he should teach her a few skills along the way. 

Sora got into the idea more than she expected and took on his own little chef role to guide her through the process. With every chop, sift, and stir, the klutzy boy from her memories was replaced by the image of a true chef.

The crack of a perfect egg by two and a whisk of sugar. The gentle click of a gaslit stove and a warm simmer of coconut milk slowly helped the pair gain a rhythm as they baked. 

While the pastry crème chilled, the two made the puff pastry. Along the way, Kairi tossed a pinch of flour at Sora in a sudden fit of mischief, earning a teasing grin and a dash of flour to her own face. His laughter filled the air. It reminded Kairi of the wholeness she had felt back then cooking alongside Sora’s family in a home filled with laughter and love. 

After the chopping of fruit and a couple of hours of reminiscing, the tart was complete. Or so Sora thought. Kairi insisted on adding one more special fruit. With an impish grin, she pulled out her secret ingredient, much to Sora’s heartfelt surprise.

Together, the two dotted the top of the tart with thin slices of paopu fruit. 

***

Kairi and Sora arrived at the Play Island with a wicker picnic basket dangling between them. Gingerly, Sora hoisted Kairi up onto the paopu tree before taking his place beside her. The setting sun before them was a welcome sight—a perfect end to their last day on the islands. Tucked inside the basket was the tart, glistening like the evening sunset. Sora cut a slice for the two of them. He held up a slice to Kairi with a boyish grin, taunting her to take a bite. 

An ache that had long persisted inside her heart faded away at the gesture. For over a year she couldn’t bring herself to visit the island—not until she brought Sora home. It was a fleeting dream come true to be here, with him, full and whole. Beaming, she held up her own slice—the two completing the ritual once more. 

The taste of their shared tart was sweet and refreshing, the tang of the fruit juice filling their taste buds with the nostalgia of home and the sunset’s burst of light. Gone was the bittersweet memory of their last parting at the base of the paopu tree, replaced with the promise of a new beginning.

“You know, back at that Voyager’s Dinner—I was so happy you were there, Kairi. It felt like a piece I was missing had finally fallen into place,” Sora said, red kissing the tips of his ears.

Kairi leaned in and gave Sora a playful kiss. “Me too. I felt at home. You were all so welcoming, and it was like a part of me that was missing became whole. My home is with you Sora, now and forever.”

Sora interlaced their hands and smiled. “No matter where we go, or how far, our connection will bring us back—

“Safe and sound.” Kairi finished. A promise and a childhood wish were fulfilled against the fading horizon, a tried and true guarantee for a safe voyage. 

Notes:

Written for Two Sides Zine Volume 2: A SoKai and RokuNami Cookbook! I'm so thankful to have had the chance to write for sokai, a dream come true project and I had the most amazing time working on it!

Thank you to Wiavi for bringing the story to life with her gorgeous spot art. It was amazing to work together and I just adore how you protrayed the scenes! Kairi's conflicting emotions come through so brilliantly and their little chibi forms cooking make my heart warm every time I see them!

And thank you to Phoenix and Liv for editing the story. Your feedback and lovely comments during the whole process really made this zine piece a love letter to SoKai and I grew so much as a writer because of it! It was so wonderful and a blast to work alongside everyone! I had so much fun and truly loved every minute.

Thank you to @true-intha-blu for the absolutely delicious tart recipe that inspired the same tart in the story! Your feedback and direction for the recipe made every mouth-watering detail come to life in words, I'm so happy we got to work together! If you haven't, definitely pick up a copy of the zine to enjoy the delicious recipes <3 Thank you all so much!

[ave-on-main]

Hello, I hope I'm not bothering you! I also hope that you're doing well! I want to start off by saying that I adore your fics, particularly the ones that you write about Brudick. They're really great, and I often reread them on occasion. The many different ideas you have for them, along with your grasp of their characters, are so fun to read and feel so accurate honestly! I love seeing your comments as well even if its on your own fics or others with your analyses about them, and it genuinely brings me joy to see. Thank you for writing stories about them! 🖤💙

I also have a question that kind of popped into my head in regards to them that made me wonder if this is a thing that mostly or only Dick has the privilege of. It's often been pointed out how Dick usually can be physically affectionate with Bruce in comparison to anyone else, like he can touch him freely without Bruce getting upset for the most part or being on guard, and I was wondering if that's the case within canon. I feel like it is, but I'm not entirely sure, though I do know for sure that Dick is someone extremely special to Bruce regardless of whether it's platonic or romantic.

Hi! I hope you're doing ok too! Thank you so much for the ask and the kind words. I always appreciate people commenting on my writing. 💕 And these two are undoubtedly very dear to me!

How physically affectionate Dick and Bruce are in canon changes a lot, tbh, which means people's opinions on it really depend on what panels someone has been exposed to. Often there can be a wall between Bruce and Dick, but they grow most affectionate when they are grieving (and that doesn't need to be a person). Bruce has given out hugs to other Bats, but canon does give the impression that Dick can initiate physical contact more easily and often than others. I think specifically for ship purposes, tearing this wall down further is a lot of fun.

How I see their physical affections comes down to their fighting style. They are very much in tune with each other, and Dick would be used to a kind of physical connection given he is a trapeze artist.

Fighting for them means contact. Sometimes painful, othertimes not.

We have a lot more hands-on a shoulder or other body part panels than hugs. Maybe because the panel from Tec #38 is so iconic, but more likely because they are guys. There are a few instances of Bruce hugging others, but Dick remains a source of comfort for him too, which is different from the role others play in Bruce's life.

The hand on heart is a newer thing, but I'm not complaining about it.

A lot of it is interpretation, of course, but I think it says something that when Dick played the role of the Joker in Batman 2011 #1, the way he was exposed to be Dick to the readers (before the true reveal) was by him touching Bruce a ton, lol.

And, of course, Dick was carried to safety a lot when he was younger. Sometimes he even did the carrying himself.

Dick can, very easily, be in Bruce's bubble because he isn't an intruder. They share 4 to 6 years of living together depending on canon and crime fight together for even longer on top of their shared trauma. That doesn't automatically translate to physical contact = good, but it helps.