#and it's at odds with what he thinks is best
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THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )
AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3
pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader
prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help.
word count: 1, 000+ words
You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.
It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.
He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.
It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.
His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it.
As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.
He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."
When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.
Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly.
Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.
“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.”
“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.”
“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”
“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”
It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry.
"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.
"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.
"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"
"Think of the war, your grace⎯"
Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up.
Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair.
“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”
“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”
“Send treaties, then!”
“Please, Aegon. I ask your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again.” You beg, your voice cracking.
Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son.
“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.”
“Your grace, if you would just⎯”
“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”
----
@fragileheartbeats
@danytar
@nightvers
#house of dragons x reader#house of dragons#house of the dragon#hotd imagines#hotd imagine#house of the dragon x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen#aegon ii#aegon the second#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#hotd aegon#king aegon#aegon targaryen#hotd season 2#hotd s1#aegon the elder
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AU where Hen goes to Medical School earlier and Buck is brought into replace her at the 118 instead of replacing Tommy (Hen is still a huge presence as Chim’s best friend and the ER doctor that always gets the handoff from the 118) so the main 118 team is Tommy, Chimney, Buck and eventually Eddie.
Buck still has his tragic Abby romance and Tommy is there to pick up the pieces as his friend and coworker and they have a Moment but it doesn’t go anywhere. Then Eddie shows up. He’s Chim’s new paramedic partner and Buck hates him one because he’s so good but two because Tommy likes him so much (imagine the jealousy of Under Pressure multiplied by the jealousy of Buck Bothered and Bewildered). They have their “have my back” moment and Tommy is glad but he’s also kind of wary that Buck seems to have a new favorite and then Buck finds out about Chris and Tommy’s starting to feel a little insecure about whatever is going on there so he starts getting mopey and distant and goes to Hen for advice and Hen gently tells him that maybe he’s feeling something he doesn’t have a name for yet and he should figure that out instead of drowning in the negative feelings. Tommy nearly cries telling Hen he thinks he might be gay.
Then the fire engine explodes. Buck is trapped and Tommy is terrified of losing him. He’s definitely starting to be somewhat aware of his feelings for Buck now. Buck has his embolism and that’s when Tommy finally realizes what he wants with Buck. Aly leaves Buck and Tommy seamlessly takes her place as his caregiver and Buck thinks he’s just being a good friend. It’s when Buck comes back as a fire marshal that Tommy has no choice but to tell Chimney he’s into Buck. This is about when he starts calling him “Evan” which everyone thinks is odd but Buck doesn’t seem to mind.
Right when he gets the courage to confess, the Lawsuit happens.
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Could I ask for an Alastor getting Hanahaki over Reader and everyone has to chip in to help him out? He's afraid of losing them as they're the only one who's never been afraid of Alastor (sure the Radio Demon part is creepy asf but Reader looks past it to befriend him) and would rather die alone then lose their presence.
The others figure out what Hanahaki is after finding him coughing up flowers one day and they each pitch in to help him through it; even Lucifer helps. And Charlie threatens Al with telling Rosie and Mimzy (you decide if they need to get involved)
Just everyone helping Alastor not second-die, him being confused as to why they're helping him and learning he has more friends then he realizes (and is nicer to them as it goes on) and also Reader being incredibly fucking confused as to what's been going on.
Sorry if it's a lot! And thank you in advance if you decide to write it ^-^
~~~ ALASTOR X READER ~~~
Hanahaki! Alastor x F!Reader
'A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and a man cannot live without love." - Max Muller
Trigger Warning: mentions abuse, vomiting, near-death experiences, cringe obliviousness
Alastor knew he was feared among mortals and sinners. He was the equivalent of a boogie man, so to speak. He had no time for trivial things like love, relationships, or weakness. He had to be strong, always ahead of the game, and ready to take anyone who dared to oppose him. Well, that was till you came along. You were an enigma; he had heard about you when you appeared in the realm of sinners; however, you were fierce in the human world. Every man that wrongly touched a woman or attacked a woman was soon dealt with by your hand. You tortured them, strung them up, and ended their lives slowly. Alastor was impressed, to say the least.
However, when you turned up on the Hotel's doorstep six months ago, you were anything but scary. You looked innocent, almost too innocent. Alastor tried so hard to hate you to think nothing but the worst in you, but you had a grip on him. It's not every day that someone is entirely unphased by him. The day you two met was like nothing before; everyone in hell knew of him and his reputation. You even did, too; you had to have known of this since Rosie was the one who suggested you find refuge in the Hotel. Yet you looked up at him when he loomed over you and just smiled.
The Radio Demon was known for the catchphrase 'never truly dressed without a smile,' but somehow yours was just as off-putting as his, like you learned something no one else ever would. He enjoyed that about you. That you were so full of kindness and energy but also something so dark and twisted. Before Alastor knew it, he took you in as an apprentice. The end goal is to teach you his ways and your soul; well, that would be his. That was always the plan to create a powerful accomplice to assist in his dirty deeds, yet something changed over time.
Alastor didn't remember when he started protecting, defending, or even fighting for you. It all happened out of nowhere. He hated all of it, but he couldn't stop himself. Slowly, as time passed, he sought guidance for these newfound emotions, leading us to now.
Alastor made his way to the bookshop in town, the best place to get anything involving the damned and dead. These newfound feelings could be an ailment of sorts, perhaps. As he perused the books, he bumped into you, of all people. Shocked, he spoke, "Hello, doll, good to see you here. Are you catching up on some light reading?"
As he said this, he looked down at the book in your hand and noticed the book was covered in an arrangement of flowers. It's odd for being a book in hell for it to look so innocent and cheap. As he was questioning the existence of this book, you spoke up. "Alastor, what a pleasure it is to see you here! I was researching sicknesses and curses from the mortal realm when I stumbled upon this book. It's pretty, no?"
Alastor looked at you and the sweet look in your eyes and couldn't help but nod in agreement with you. God, if he truly existed, needed to help get him whatever cure was necessary for these stupid thoughts. Alastor took the book from your hands, observing the details, and flipped through the pages gently. He looked back over to you when he spoke. "Dear, why don't I buy this for you? If I remember correctly, you have a date with Ms. Rosie soon. I would hate for you to miss your confidential meet-up."
You nodded gently, smiling that same eerie smile as always, making your way out the door, not before leaving a generous tip for the demon at the counter. You were always kind and gentle to those who had done no wrong to you or your loved ones. Yet when someone wronged anyone close to you, they would coincidentally go missing. You were like a gorgeous rose with those incredibly thin secret thorns. Alastor went to the front soon after you and placed the books you two had found on the front counter. As the shopkeeper looked up to see the grinning radio host, he just ducked back down, minding his business. Alastor smiled, dropping some coins in the jar before returning to the hotel.
Once inside, Alastor made his way to his tower, ready to read the books that may cure these insufferable feelings he has been having towards you. The first book on the document, "Freudian Emotions," As Alastor read through the book, he couldn't help but be mildly disgusted and enamored with the literature. Who just openly admits they were in love with their mother? Who was the man who wrote this book? Deeming the book unsatisfactory, Alastor moved on to the next, "How to know understand your darker feelings". This book pertains to many of Alastor's emotions when he was in the mood to kill or harm. Only the chapter 'Lust' has mild insinuations of the random emotions he was suddenly feeling. Another dud he surely would need to pay that shop keeps another visit to request better literature.
As Alastor thought everything was lost, he noticed your book again. Taking a closer look at it, one would call it eloquent. The sage green cover was adorned with thousands of different flowers. The title reading, "Ancient Alments of the Flowers and Gods," piqued his interest greatly. As he skimmed through the pages, he saw countless excerpts about those who scorned the gods and curses placed upon them. One specific page really caught his attention, it was about an ailment called 'Hanahaki'. Someone with feelings of unrequited love would profusely vomit flowers till their feelings were requited. The other option was an intense surgical procedure that would leave the person affected loveless. Underneath a picture of a young girl with flowers around her and coming out of her mouth was a message. It was hard to make out; Alastor moved the book closer to his face.
Squinting closer at the message, Alastor mumbled, 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As those words left his mouth, his fate was sealed. A sudden urge to get sick overtook Alastor as he dropped the book on the ground and ran to the bathroom down the hall. There, he passed a confused Angel Dust, putting on more makeup in the mirror. Alastor made it to the toilet where he proceeded to get violently ill.....with......flowers. Flowers? Why flowers? As Alastor tried to process the turn of events, Angel Dust popped his head in. "Uh, radio man, you good? I don't think I have ever seen you get sic- Oh god, why are there flowers everywhere?"
Before Alastor could pop his head up enough to respond, he threw up more flowers. Standing up woozy, he washed his face in the sink before turning to the spider demon. "I don't know what's wrong. I read this book Y/N bought, and now I am seemingly throwing up flowers."
Angel nodded, lending a hand to the demon and helping him straighten himself out. The two started to head out of the bathroom when the woman herself appeared out of nowhere. "Hi, guys! Oh, Alastor, are you okay?" Concern was evident in her voice, and it was adorable when she worried about him.
Before Alastor knew it, though, he was pushing Angel towards the girl and returning to throw up some more. With some gentle words from Angel and a lot of persistence, finally Y/N left. Once she was far enough away, Alastor was freed from the clutches of flowers once again. Sighing, he turned to the spider demon, "Angel, good fellow, I need to find where I dropped that book."
Angel joined Alastor in the hunt for the book and kept Y/N away. Luckily, they made it back to the radio tower unscathed. Once the book was found, Angel and Alastor began digging into it. Nothing came of it except a simple smirk from Angel. "Alastor, do you have feelings for little Miss Y/N?"
Alastor looked at the demon, puzzled. What a stupid question to ask while he was here, vomiting flowers. Yes, he had some odd feelings he didn't understand right now, but nothing like what that stupid book described. Angel sighed, shaking his head, and went for the door. Alastor was in a panic, "Where are you going? Are you not going to help me?"
Angel turned to Alastor, "I'm going to get more help because you obviously don't realize what everyone has been seeing since the day that girl arrived."
Alastor looked at Angel quizzically as he left. Sitting on the floor of the tower, he thought about everything. He understood the explanation of the curse in that stupid book was about someone loving another who didn't return the feelings, but he had never experienced love before. Well, he had for his momma, but not another. Would he describe these odd feelings he had for you as love? While lost in thought, Angel appeared with Husk, Charlie, and Vaggie hot on his tail.
As Alastor was snapped out of his thoughts, a concerned Charlie appeared before him. "Alastor! Angel told us everything. Are you alright? Where is Y/N? Should she be here too?"
As the young girl's name left the princess's lips, the sick feeling happened again. He turned to his side and started to vomit more flowers. Everyone was in shock. When he was done, he turned and looked up at the others. Angel picked up the cursed book and handed it to the others for them to read. It clicked for everyone as soon as they got to the message at the bottom. Alastor was in love but didn't realize it.
Alastor sat weak and groggy, observing from the sideline as everyone huddled together. Rolling his eyes, he went to stand and go about his day when he was ushered into his seat by the group. Now, sitting in his hosting chair, everyone lined up before him. Charlie stepped forward, "Alastor, you are in love with Y/N!"
Again, as the name left Charlie's lips, Alastor doubled over, vomiting profusely. Flowers littered the room; all anyone really could think was that at least it smelt good. Angel placed his hand on the Radio Demon's shoulder and turned to Charlie, "Toots, I think we should avoid saying her name for now until at least we come up with a plan."
Alastor shook his head and looked up. "Where is she? I don't know what will happen if I see her again right now. Just her name is causing this. I would hate for it to be worse."
Everyone nodded. Husk said, "After Angel told me what was happening, I convinced her Rosie needed her." A sigh of relief was heard from everyone in the room. Alastor looked to the crew in front of him and spoke again, "I don't even know what love is, so why has that damned book cursed me?"
The group looked at each other and nodded, lining back up. Angel stepped forward first: "Exhibit A, When she who shall not be named appeared at the hotel, she was unafraid of you. You came to me later that evening and asked if your name was still prevalent in the demon community. When I confirmed it was, you stared at her for hours and kept mumbling, 'Fascinating, truly fascinating.'
Alastor blanched at the omission, not ready for the retelling of the last six months of his life. He couldn't deny, though, that having someone not immediately afraid of him was refreshing. Over the six months he had known you, he repeatedly tried to make you scared. Nothing happened, though. You always just smiled and went about your day with him.
Next up was Vaggie, "When we were all practicing for the war with the angels, and she was fighting with one of the cannibals, you asked me how her form was so perfect. You were enamored with her when I explained that she had to have been a fighter in one of her lifetimes. I don't think you stopped staring at her while she was practicing that whole day."
Alastor turned his head away from his friends, feeling a bit warm. He couldn't deny your fighting form was gorgeous. You were fierce on the field that day. Constantly slaying enemies, though you were beautiful in red, the Gold that adorned your face after you slew the angels was something else. Not to mention, you were the one who found him in the wreckage of the radio tower that day. You helped him and tended to his wounds before returning to the others during the rebuild phase. He vividly remembers how you were right there, so close yet so far.
Husk stepped up to the plate: "The night that she drank herself silly at the bar after losing Pentious, you sat with her the whole night while she talked. You never do that, and I would know. You even carried her to her room when she passed out."
It was confirmed that he watched you drink your heart out once the hotel was rebuilt. Crying profusely over the snake man. A part of him felt anger that you felt so strongly towards another, but it also hurt him to see someone he 'cared' for hurting. When you finally passed out, he realized how soft your features were. You were so calm and delicate but also so fierce and aggressive. He picked you up so delicately and carried you to your room across the hotel. When he laid you down, you gripped him and mumbled, 'Be safe, Alastor, please.' Hearing that, his heart was alight.
Finally, Charlie took center stage, " On top of all these instances, you've not once asked for her soul, nor have you made a deal with her, nor have you made any insulting comments."
Alastor stalled....was that true? He knew deep down it was. He continually lied to himself; he was only interested in you because he wanted your soul. Did he really want to force you into servitude, though? Everything came crashing down on Alastor so quickly. There was no way was he....was he...in love. As the pieces clicked for the Radio Demon he hunched over in the chair spilling his guts full of flowers out, this time they weren't just any flowers, they were Roses. He always compared you to roses, your beautiful soft exterior covered with those hidden thorns.
As the coughing of flowers ended, he looked at his friends. They all were smiling, waiting for him to admit it himself. Alastor didn't know what scared him the most: that he loved you or that all these people cared enough about him to remember such antics. Did these people actually have so little time in their dreary lives? "Thank you all for the trip down memory lane, though I understand I apparently love......her......how does this help my situation?"
The group looked astonished at the thanks but contemplated the weight of his words. It's great he understood, but how did you feel? You were an enigma to everyone, eager to help and lend a hand but keeping your heart close to your chest. Charlie, in all her wisdom, spoke, "Go to Rosies and profess your love right now! No woman can resist a sweet confession!"
Angel laughed, "Sorry, toots, but I would deny a man who went to tell me he loved me and then vomited on me."
Husk said, "At least the vomit is flowers that could be a plus if not mildly concerning for the girl."
Alastor listened to everyone's points; going to Rosie wouldn't do, and it would just be too much and embarrassing. He had a front to keep all these other demons in the realm, still had to know who was in charge. While everyone was deep in thought, the door to the radio tower opened. Everyone turned to the noise. Alastor, still sitting, couldn't see what was happening. "I heard from a little birdie's phone that we need a magical love confession!" Oh god not Lucifer, may an Exicutioner strike Alastor down now.
"Dad! Yes, Alastor needs an amazing proposal that won't be hindered by his uh issues." Charlie exclaimed.
"Oh, you are talking to the king of romance, baby! Here's the plan!"
~~~~~ Time Jump ~~~~~
A week had passed since Alastor came to terms with his feelings and realized he had more friends than not. However, this elaborate plan for each person in the hotel to try and get Y/N to confess she had feelings too was becoming too much. The symptoms of the Hanahaki were becoming too much. Her voice alone now was making him vomit. So far, each attempted love confession ended with the girl being overly confused and concerned about where Alastor was hiding. They usually were inseparable, but he had avoided her for a week since the bookstore.
This is where Lucifer's plan came to a head; see what he told everyone to do: get her to confess. In reality, he planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the young girl's mind. If she also loved Alastor, she would seek him out and confess herself. Maybe she was just as oblivious as the Radio Demon. The sweet, innocent young demon was starting to bear her fangs and claws, as luck would have it. Lucifer was an avid Kdrama stan. Of course, he knew how this troupe would play out and took the right amount of push from the group.
Alastor was also growing to miss you; the more he agreed with his feelings, the more he was worried about what you were doing if you hated him for disappearing, and if you were going to accept him. As the thoughts plagued his mind, a timid knock was heard on his door. Standing up and straightening himself out, Alastor opened the door. There you stood in all your glory. He could tell you hadn't been sleeping from the bags under your eyes, and you looked a little pale, probably from not caring for yourself from worry. He was so happy to see you, ecstatic that you cared! Well, till he started to vomit flowers again.
Panic ran across your face as you reached out to help Alastor; however, your touch only worsened things. The flowers were changing colors; rushing to sit him down, you noticed the book you had wanted to buy a week ago. Picking it up on the page it was on, you saw the term 'Hanahaki.' Reading through the page after noticing the girl in the picture had the same ailment as Alastor, you grew upset. He was in love with someone....who? You got to the part of the passage that has a message. 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As you spoke those words, Alastor grew worried. What if the same aliment that was affecting him now also affected you. Not only would he worry about your health, but he would know you didn't love him.
After a few minutes, nothing happened; Alastor didn't know how to feel. Were you not in love at all? While contemplating all these thoughts, the flowers came up again, so you didn't love him back; he would have to resort to some stupid surgery to be okay again. Coughing out the last flowers, Alastor stood, "I'll be fine, doll. Just leave me be."
"Who is she...or he...whoever?" He could hear the sadness in your voice. Why were you asking him who caused his ailment?
"Never mind....we should get you help.... or get you to confess something so you can live normally again." You were doing everything in your power to hold back the tears. Alastor reached out and moved some fallen hair behind your ear.
"Who do you want me to be in love with?" Alastor spoke timidly for the first time in his lifetimes since he was a child. He was afraid of your rejection, the illness, something, anything. You did so many strange things to him. As you looked up into his eyes and he saw the hints of tears forming, for once, he didn't feel like vomiting. Slowly inching forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Gently, like at any moment, everything could be ruined.
When you kissed back, Alastor felt light. Once you two pulled away for air, he was prepared for more flowers. Your voice alone made him throw them up; he was worried about touching you. Nothing came. He looked down at you once more and smiled his signature grin. "Doll, I dare say, do you love me back? No wonder you didn't get cursed with the ailment when you read the passage."
You smiled softly at him, wrapping him in a hug. Things were back to normal again, and now, with you two together, hell had a whole new list of worries to deal with. Who knew the Radio Demon would only grow stronger once he found the love of his lifetime?
#x reader#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#radio demon#hazbin#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel#hotel hazbin#hazbin hotel x reader
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A Favour (Part 4)
Part 3
MAJOR SMUT ALERT
Summary: When secrets are revealed during girl’s night, Y/N takes action.
~
“Wow, talk about impulsive.”
Wanda wiggled further into her floor poof, noting to herself that Y/N was definitely being gifted new ones for Christmas.
“I know,” she filled up their glasses again. “I guess I dodged a bullet there. Still doesn’t make me feel any better.
Tucking the wine bottle on the nightstand before flopping to the floor, Y/N sighed.
The abandoned date was a week behind her, but she still couldn’t shake her frustration.
“He’s always hitting on me. And now Jane wants to give things another go and I’m discarded like a consolation prize.”
Wanda awed, “Oh love, don’t think of yourself that way.”
Her hand reached for Y/N’s arm, her thumb running over it softly.
“Men have a way about them, I’ll never understand it but it’s like—they constantly chase after the one that got away. It’s to no fault of your own, he’s just stupid.”
Y/N sipped her wine, smiling at Wanda.
“Thanks babe. Honestly, at the end of the day they have history. They’re well suited for each other. Hell they probably have better chemistry than Thor and I would have—”
“Oh I’m sure that’s not a factor. That man could have chemistry with anyone.”
Y/N wracked with laughter, Wanda was pretty reserved about her attractions. It was shocking when they came out.
“For sure. Big and bulky, thousands of years of experience…”
Wanda hummed, “Experience. Now that’s the kind of man you need Y/N. Someone who knows his way around a woman.”
Wanda flipped abruptly, sliding drunkenly to lay across from Y/N.
“Wanna know a secret?”
Y/N looked at Wanda’s glass, seeing it was almost empty.
Note to self, we’re slowing down after this one
“Of course,” Y/N mock-whispered.
Wanda giggled, “The best fucks are the older guys.”
Y/N gasped and smacked Wanda’s arm as she howled.
“Wanda! You’re naughty.”
“I am, I am. But it’s true. Younger men are selfish, rushing to the main event… the older ones take their time.”
She sat up, consumed by her reminiscence.
“They hold you, they tease you, they cherish you. Two words for you Y/N: body worship. It is the best thing since sliced bread. And I’m making sandwiches.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I know!” Wanda said, “But it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
She threw back the rest of her glass and huffed.
“God, now I’m horny.”
Y/N scoffed, “You’re telling me. With all my potential suitors lined up, I’ve been on edge.”
Evident, considering her blatant proposition to Barnes.
She grew red at the thought, how could she do that? Just throw herself at him?
At least things weren’t awkward between them, he was even going to go as far to give her advice about Thor…
Now looking back on it, it did seem rather odd coming from him. She propositions him for sex, and then comes to give her bedrooms tops? Perhaps he had just been trying to compensate for that day before.
Whatever, she thought, she should just put it out of her head.
“Bucky!” Wanda exclaimed.
Y/N jolted, had she read her mind?
“What?”
Wanda shook her finger at her, “that’s the one you should go for. Christ, have you seen his arms?”
Y/N raised her brows and hummed, “Oh yes, yes I have. Beef cake to a T.”
“And that stubble, lord forgive me.”
Y/N pictured how it would feel scraping her neck, the inside of her thighs…
“But that ship has sailed. It didn’t even dock Wanda.”
Wanda halted as she reached for the wine bottle.
“Explain.”
“Well,” she bobbed her head as she thought, “I kinda already asked him.”
Wanda gasped.
“And he said no.”
Wanda then slammed her hand down. “Bad friend! How could you not tell me?”
Wanda grabbed her hand and shook it, “We could have made a game plan. He could’ve been putty in your hands!”
“I tried!” Y/N defended, “I thought it would be a good idea but it didn’t—I don’t know, pan out.”
Wanda groaned, “Where is Nat? She’ll talk some sense in to you.”
How could it have not panned out, Wanda thought. She knew of the affections he harbored for Y/N, him passing up his opportunity was beyond comprehension.
As if on cue, Nat barged through Y/N’s door. Stumbling with her bottle of tequila and go bag in hand, not even undressed from her late night mission.
“Okay!” She yelled, “I ran off the jet so I wouldn’t miss anything. I’ll do shots to catch up while you spill.”
She directed this to Y/N, who remained utterly confused.
“Spill what?”
Nat rolled her eyes as she unscrewed her bottle.
“Don’t be coy, it’s been a whole week since I talked with Barnes so I’m not even gonna pretend that I’m not in the loop.”
She mouthed the bottle and winced as the first shot went down. Wanda reached out with a grabby hand, and Nat complied.
“How was he? Tell us everything.” She demanded.
Wanda and Y/N shared a look of confusion, had Nat finally gone delusional after too many hits to the head?
“Nat, I’m serious. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her face was read over by the super-spy, and she watched as Nat’s face contorted into annoyance. Her hand darted to grab the bottle back from Wanda.
“Wait. You’re telling me he didn’t make a move?”
Y/N sat up slowly, “No…”
As she drew it out, Nat knew then that Barnes has chickened out.
“Oh that goddamn idiot.”
“Nat what are you talking about?”
She sighed. She knew Bucky would do this. She didn’t know why, but he always found some excuse as to why he shouldn’t follow through. Bucky had to be pushed, and what better way than to tell Y/N herself.
“He charged to your room last week after training, determined to fuck the shit out of you.”
Wanda’s cough sent white wine all over the floor, Nat patted her back as Y/N took this in.
“You’re joking.” Y/N stated.
“No! He told me you asked him to, I told him he was an idiot, and then he went to your room. At least I assume he did—”
“—he did!” Y/N said.
The two women looked at her in shock.
“And he did nothing?” Wanda asked.
Y/N fumbled over her words, “Well—he came in. Yeah, he came in. Then he saw me upset and then we just hang out but he—we, we just—he was gonna fuck me?”
“He wanted to! Like bull in China shop charging out of the room, wanted to fuck you.”
“I can’t believe this.” Y/N decided to take the rest of the wine bottle for herself, slopping it down in the chaos of this news.
“The fuck do I do now?”
Nat gently placed a hand on her knee, face sweet and genuine.
“You mount him, sweetie.”
Wanda nodded eagerly, filling her wine glass with tequila.
“Body worship.” She enunciated.
Nat side eyed her, “What?”
Wanda waved her hand at her, “I’ll explain later.”
As Y/N sat silent, the two stared at her. Eyes dead ahead, Y/N still couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea.
“So?” Nat asked, “Are you going?”
Y/N was shocked, “What, like now?”
Nat threw her head back as she swiped the tequila back from Wandaz
Wow, she thought, they’re both idiots I guess.
“Yes NOW. We just got back from the same mission, he’s in his room as we speak.”
“That doesn’t mean I should go now! I should talk to him, I—I don’t get why he’d change his mind after I asked him—”
“No.” Nat demanded. She stood up, grabbing Y/N and rising with her.
“You two talk way too much. Every time you two come out on the opposite page you started. Or—opposite end of the book. Whatever, you’re not on the same page!”
Nat dragged her to the door, and whipped it open.
“You want to fuck Barnes. He wants to fuck you. When you two start talking that suddenly goes out the window. No more chit-chat. You, are going to get laid tonight. And it’s gonna be by 6 feet, 250 pounds of fine-aged muscle. And you are not coming back here until you do!”
She tossed Y/N out the door, leaving her in stunned silence in the hallway.
~
Bucky stripped himself of his gear, his shoulders and neck aching from the grip of his harness.
God, it felt good to get that off. It felt good to be home.
What he desperately wanted was a rub down, a deep tissue massage courtesy of Stark Therapeutics. But it was far too late for that, he’d have to go tomorrow.
His mind began to wander in his exhaustion, forming a picture of delicate hands working his muscles.
Eventually, the image of Y/N’s wandering hands came into his fantasy. Pulling, yearning for his sensitive skin…
His palms ran up his face into his hair. Now he needed a cold shower.
He should’ve just done it.
He must have been a masochist, torturing and teasing himself with his own chances, graphic and vulgar images just taunting him.
You could have had this, she could have been yours.
He was mad at himself. Now, with their pathetic back-and-forth he would never have a chance like that again.
And then when she finally got back in the game she’d meet someone that rocked her world, then they’d get married and have beautiful mini Y/N babies because of all the rocking sex they’d have.
Alright, now he was being dramatic.
He needed to cool off, breathe, sleep off and then reset.
He could do without one night of mental torture.
The ice cold water was uninviting, but much needed.
Though it was waking up his exhausted body, his mind was slowly letting go of Y/N.
Y/N, Y/N, Y/N….
He was trying his best, he really was. Especially after last week.
He made the choice to be supportive and passive about her sex life, things were feeling normal between them.
A knock came on his door, turning off the water he called out.
“Yeah?”
He waited a moment, but when receiving no answer, he went back to his shower.
He jumped out of his skin when the bathroom door whipped open.
Ponytail swinging, eyes hard, she darted to the shower.
“Y/N? What the hell!”
He didn’t attempt to cover himself, too shocked to move.
What the actual hell.
She pulled back the glass door, pausing as she took him in.
Every inch of him was just… goddamn insane.
Perfect arms, perfect abs, perfect v.
Looking down, she sighed.
“God, that’s gonna hurt.”
Bucky’s eyes went wide.
“Excuse me?”
She met his eyes. She looked wild; her pupils blown, panting, the water beginning to dampen her thin clothes.
Part of her hesitated, this was bold. This was a lot coming from her. The last few weeks were filled with waiting and waiting for the right proposal. She had tech geniuses, army vets, marine corps, doctors from all over the building shooting their shot, and none of them caught her attention.
But he however, was the only one she had sought after.
Thor had been tempting, but looking at Barnes in his soaked glory, she knew that the God could never compare. This was a man.
Bucky’s back hit the tiled wall, Y/N’s body being soaked by the shower stream.
His hands stay at his sides, unable to move.
This had to be a dream.
“I want you.”
Bucky’s mouth went dry at her declaration, lip dropping in slight awe.
“Do you want me?” She asked.
Their chests heaved in unison, the frozen water suddenly felt like a thousand degrees.
He stared at her. Her hands on his shoulders, that dangerous look in her eye…
“God yes.” He uttered.
It was so fast.
Her body pressed into him, soft lips covering his.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and his hands flew to her waist.
He turned them, hoisting her up against the wall. Her legs locked around his back as he ground his cock into her clothed pussy.
He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, his hands nearly ripping her waistband.
He pulled back, resting his head against her forehead as he breathed out.
His body was on fire.
“Tell me you’re sure.”
She went to kiss him again and he ducked his chin.
“Y/N, tell me you’re sure.”
She tiled her head back against the cold, wet tile. She felt the heat pooling in her body, her hands hot as they gripped into his shoulders.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I need you to fuck me Bucky.”
That was all he needed.
Shower abandoned, he rushed to the bed with her.
He raked his hands along her body, he needed to feel every inch of her. He needed her to feel how desperately he wanted this.
Goosebumps littered her flesh, his metal hand doing nothing to satiate.
She wrestled to get herself unclothed, eager for his skin against hers.
He pushed her hands away.
“Let me,” he urged, “Let me touch you.”
She complied, lifting her arms above her head as he undressed her. Strong hands delicate but sure, confidently removing every piece that was in his way.
She was perfect.
He took in all her beauty; collarbones exposed, breast perked under his touch, the soft and supple feel of her skin, those hips, those legs, that perfect pussy…
He began his descent, kissing every inch as he urged to her to lay back.
Her eyes never left him, watching as her ravished her torso with his lips.
Body worship echoed in her mind.
His hands wander upwards, grazing her sensitive thighs.
“Bucky, please.”
She loved it, she did. It felt so good to be cherished like this, his fingers kneading into every spot he could grab. But she wanted him, she needed to feel him.
“Baby,” he whispered, stubble scraping her inner thighs, “I gotta take my time with you.”
She moaned as he gently bit the inside of her thigh, lifting her legs over his shoulders.
He groaned at the sound, reminding himself to slow down.
God, he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to leave her breathless, whining, desperate to cum beneath him.
But he couldn’t now. Next time.
He met her eyes as his tongue licked her folds.
Her head rolled back as he drew another moan from her.
He listened to her body, her sounds as her delved further in to her pussy.
Show me what you like baby, give it all to me.
His lips circled around her clit, tongue working hard and fast.
He’d be damned if he didn’t make her cum before he was inside her.
He planned to ruin her for anyone else, he wanted her pleasure so overwhelming that she’d never forget why she waited. She needed to know what real sex felt like.
“Fuck, Bucky.”
Her thighs clenched around his head, losing herself. She tried to loosen them as he continued his assault, but his hands locked them into place.
Squeeze me love, don’t hesitate. I want it all.
She cried out as he worked harshly with his tongue, she knew she was about to come.
“Don’t stop, Bucky please don’t stop.”
Her back arched against the mattress, and he held her down with his flesh arm. He wanted his face in it when she came, tasting all she had to give.
He hummed against her, passionately continuing as she rode out her climax. He felt it drip down his face, chin slick with her wetness.
He was tempted to go again, really make her writhe from his tongue, have her screaming his name so loud that the rest of the compound would be pounding on his door.
He wanted to give her more; and more.
But he’d wait. Not now.
Now he needed to be inside her, have her tight and wet pussy grip him as he rutted into her.
He had to know how she felt.
He wiped his chin before climbing on the bed, hovering over her.
She was speechless, eyes glassy as slipped himself between her legs.
“I’m gonna fuck you nice, and slow. You're gonna tell me what you need baby."
In awe, she lifted her hips to his. She didn't care if it hurt, the pleasure would come. She knew he'd make sure of that.
He grazed her entrance with his head, gently teasing.
"Tell me you want me, baby."
She whimpered, mind reflecting on Wanda's statement earlier.
They hold you, they tease you, they cherish you…
He was relishing in her pleasure as much as she was.
“I want you Bucky, please. I want you to fuck me.”
She bucked her hips up to his, and he pressed her further into the mattress.
He hushed her, “Easy baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
His head ducked beneath her ear, softly sucking at the skin.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, his body warm against hers.
“Ready?”
She nodded into his shoulder.
Grabbing her chin, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
Staring into her eyes, he watched her face as he eased himself in.
God, he was huge.
Slowly, he let his cock fill her up. His hips stuttered at her tightness, she was so warm… so wet…
He kissed her neck as she signed, hands sliding under her hips to hold her against him.
Her arms wrapped around his back, legs locking behind his so she could take all of him.
She wanted him to move, she needed him to move.
“Please Bucky, I’m ready.”
He nodded into her shoulder, steeling himself to not cum right then and there/
She felt so good, he’d wanted this for so long.
And now she was begging him for more, perfect body wrapped around him.
His wildest dreams never could have imagined this.
His thrusts were gentle, purposeful.
He wanted her to take every inch, he wanted her a mess beneath him.
He gave it to her nice, and slow. Just as he promised.
She moaned softly as his rutting picked up pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.
He groaned, “You’re taking me so well. You’re doing so good baby.”
Her breath hitched at his words, and Bucky’s sly smile grew against her skin.
Her heartbeat pulsed into his cheek, and he nipped at the skin of her neck.
“Yeah? You like that baby? Tell me.”
“Yes,” she breathed out, “You feel so good.”
He moaned into her neck, strokes rolling wave after wave of pleasure to her core.
“That’s my girl. That’s my good girl.”
She was soaking his cock, becoming tighter and tighter.
“You fuck me so good Bucky, fuck I—”
She couldn’t hold back her cry, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside of her.
He was worried he’d hurt her, but as her place contorted in pleasure he continued his pounding.
He hesitated in speaking, feeling selfish. Then couldn’t stop himself as she cried out his name.
“Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours.”
She said it without thinking, brain foggy and filled with thoughts of only him.
He could let the sound of that replay for eternity.
“That’s a good girl. Fuck you feel so good.”
He lifted her legs over his shoulders, pushing himself deeper inside her.
He slowed himself as she whined, trying to remember that he couldn’t ruin her yet.
It needed to be slow, this had to be all about her…
No matter how desperately he wanted her cumming from overstimulation, fingertips gripping the bedsheets, crying out his name and only his.
“Bucky…”
It was the only thing she knew to say, her mind devoting her words to only him.
He was getting close, but he couldn’t let himself finish.
Fucking her slow, he slipped his hand over her clit. Making gentle and soft circles, drawing her last orgasm out of her.
He bit into her calf as she came, urging himself not to cum as she did. She coated his thighs, and he moved faster.
His thumb on her clit moved with the pace of his thrusts.
“C’mon baby, give me another one. Cum for me Y/N.”
She felt lightheaded as another orgasm came, washing over her body as she cried out his name again.
“That’s my girl. Fuck Y/N, you’re perfect.”
He groaned as he finished, collapsing on top of her.
Sweaty and hot, they laid against one another. Legs tangled, his hands still pressing her into him.
Their breathing slowed, he reached over to gently kiss her forehead.
“You okay?” He whispered.
She hummed, nodding into his chest.
He chuckled, “Tired?”
She nodded again, smiling into his skin.
He slowly kissed along the side of her face, shifting to cradle her in his arms.
He was coming down from his high, the room became clearer. He drifted his hand along her spine, in silent awe that everything had changed in an instant.
“You really came barging in here.”
She laughed, laying her head on his chest.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Jesus, don’t be. It was an answer to my prayers.”
She laughed again, sitting up and pulling at her ponytail.
She let in drape over her shoulders, softly staring at him with a small smile.
“Could’ve been sooner. Nat said you chickened out last week.”
He groaned, “Of course she told you. I’m sorry, okay? I just got scared.”
“You scared? It was my first time.”
“I know, but… I wanted it to be your choice. You asked me to earlier but… I didn’t think you wanted what I did. And I needed you to enjoy it.”
She hummed, laying against him again. Her hands placed in the soft tuft of hair on his chest.
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Enjoy it.”
She cuddled into his side, “Of course I did. I know I made the right choice, Buck.”
He nodded, his worries silenced.
“And I know I’m gonna enjoy it next time.”
His brows shot up, “Next time?”
“Oh yeah,” she lifted herself to face him, “next time.”
She kissed his lips, “And the next.”
Another kiss, “And the next.”
They laughed together as she continued. Thank god she had waited all this time.
Bucky drifted to sleep with the thought of each “next”, excited for every single one.
~
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#marvel#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky#marvel fics#bucky imagine#bucky fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes au#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader
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Want to be messed up together?
Summary: Some traumas are smaller, but they are still there. Simon learns more about his girlfriend's childhood. They are so different and yet so alike.
Wordcount: 577
Author's note: No this is not based on me. I don't know where you got that from. It's a character on its own and has nothing to do with the author.
"I mean my mum was also the 'stop crying or I'll give you a reason to cry' type, but-"
Simon looked up in surprise. He had heard them both talking on the phone. They seemed familiar. Although she seemed more cautious with her mum. Not drastic, but more diplomatic in nature.
"Did she hit you?", he blurted out immediately.
She shook her head quickly. "No! I mean, there was the odd slap on the back of the head or on the bum, but she didn't hurt me... Although she often took me aside, when I was... well, when I was too annoying. I can only vaguely remember. I remember that it happened, but... well, not exactly what happened." Her eyes looked into the past. Looked at scenes that Simon couldn't see. "She never hurt me."
Simon got all stiff. "You know she still shouldn't have done that."
She nodded again. "No, she shouldn't have." She ran her finger over her coffee-to-go cup and pressed her lips together. "Well, she had a lot of stress back then, was probably in a permanent pre-burn-out, and didn't know how to do it better. She did her best... and failed." She smiled with sad eyes and looked at Simon. "She's trying, so I'm trying to forgive her."
Simon looked into her eyes. Understood her a little more. Her shyness. Her fear of doing something wrong. How nervous she got, when she thought, she was annoying someone. Her desire to get through everyday life as peacefully as possible. Why she never cried in front of him, no matter how obvious it was, why she ran to the bathroom.
He carefully placed a hand on hers. He saw her eyes gleam wetly, but she blinked rapidly and breathed in and out once hard.
"Your father?"
"Oh, he was just there watching his animal documentaries.", she waved him off. "When I was in tenth grade, he took one look at me at dinner once and asked me how much longer I was going to go to school... There was one incident, because I was too annoying again, but that was it. Although he was always strangely proud of the day."
"I'm sure my therapist would have her fun with you.", he mumbled. He hadn't expected the laughter that followed.
"I'm sure she would." She smiled sadly again. "I went to one once", she explained. "When I told her that I was already aware, where all of my problems came from and that I would rather know how to break out of my behavioural patterns, she just said that she couldn't just tell me what to do. 'You need to reflect and make a connection. If you understand, you'll act differently." She rolled her eyes. "I've been waiting a good ten years to find and get a place. Doesn't she think I've ever had the idea to think my life apart like this? And yet I'm still stuck. If yours is more solution-orientated, I'm happy to give it a chance."
Simon had to grin slightly. "No. Sounds just like mine. 'You need to feel your feelings Mr. Riley'. I thought I did.", he mimicked her.
She laughed. "I thought I was the only one who didn't understand. 'I can't tell you how to do it. You just have to know.' Yes, but unfortunately I don't know."
Simon laughed. She looked happier at his face again. "Want to be messed up together?"
Simon smiled and nodded.
#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost cod#cod fanfic#cod men
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Ok since you talked about conflict: what do you think their arguments will look like!!! (The first one and then perhaps the ones after)
oh i do believe their first fight is messy af!!! Because I think the only time we really have seen conflict between them has been during the Lawsuit era, which was so long ago and relatively early in their relationship, and then like little hints of it in s5 (in 5x01 with the panic attack stuff, and kind of in 5x10 with Eddie basically shutting Buck down about coming back to the 118).
And I think fundamentally they would HATE arguing. Like they are ALWAYS on the same team and I think it would be excruciating for both of them to be at odds with one another, so I think even a relatively small disagreement about something could easily blow up into something way bigger because one, or most likely BOTH, of them try to bury it and ignore it and pretend everything's fine because how can they not be on the same side about something??? and then when they refuse to address it it just gets bigger and bigger and their first fight is like...this kind of catastrophic explosion.
(omg sorry putting the rest under a readmore because this got so long...)
Like not screaming at each other or anything like that, but like their argument gets out of hand and one or both of them have to remove themselves from the situation and a little part of them is like is this it? is this where it ends? what if we really weren't ever meant to get together what if we really were better as friends? We NEVER fought when we were just best friends maybe this is too much for us...and then they get some Wise Perspective from someone or they have a classic Call That Mirrors Our Current Conflict moment and they're like wait. we're being stupid. yeah maybe we're fighting right now but we also both want to fight FOR each other and FOR this relationship.
I do think one of their early if not their earliest fights might be something about Eddie keeping something from Buck--not something nefarious at all, but something where it's Eddie basically processing or refusing to process something and not letting Buck in on the processing/lack thereof and Buck finds out and gets upset because when Eddie keeps things from him BAD THINGS HAPPEN. And Buck LOVES to fix things and Eddie loves that he wants to (comes in handy when you've got a bunch of holes in your walls...) but also he doesn't want to admit that there's anything TO fix and also, maybe this isn't something that can just be FIXED.
Just spitballing but maybe it's that Eddie is avoiding telling his parents about Buck and it's not that Buck needs him to do that but that Eddie is HIDING the fact that he hasn't told his parents FROM Buck because he doesn't want to admit how scary it is to come out to them and also to possibly open up this relationship (that he feels SO sure of and SO happy in) to the judgement of his parents who, for all the progress they've made HAVE proven themselves to be judgmental in the past. And Eddie thinks Buck is going to be hurt and disappointed that he hasn't told his parents but Buck is just hurt and sad that Eddie hasn't shared his feelings about the situation with Buck. (This also fits into my desire to see the friction of like, here's something i would've shared with you without question before we got together but now we ARE together and you are the SUBJECT of the thing I would previously have been sharing with you as like a friend/third party to the situation). Cue the Diaz parents showing up unexpectedly for a surprise visit and it all goes to hell.
and i for sure think their future arguments get messy not just for them but also for the entire firehouse. because you know who loves oversharing about their relationship problems at work??? BUCK. and you know who hates talking about his problems and wants to pretend they don't exit? EDDIE "I don't panic" DIAZ. So I do think their little tiffs tend to bleed out and affect everyone on the team (but important to note I don't think they let it affect them on calls, it's more just a general disruption of the Team Vibe like in the truck/at the station because they can't stop sniping at each other). Like I think we'd see something very similar to how pissy Buck was with Eddie in 5x01 and Eddie being like BUCK FOR GODS SAKE and Hen and Chim are like 🍿🍿🍿 and Ravi is like. traumatized because everytime Buck is upset with Eddie somehow HE gets punished for it. and maybe even Chim and Maddie end up in their own argument because they disagree about who is in the wrong in the Eddie/Buck conflict (who is siding with whom...now that's the real question...but for the record in my head Chim is on Buck's side and he is FLABBERGHASTED that Maddie wouldn't take her own brother's side!!! But Maddie and Eddie are so similar so she REALLY empathizes with him in this situation and also she's ALWAYS primed and ready to call Buck out for being a dumbass.)
I could see this being played for laughs and/or also as part of a larger conflict about Buck and Eddie being allowed to work together on the same shift. Like maybe it's kind of played somewhat comedically at first and then they like, resolve their fight in some cute way but Bobby still sits them down and is like you have GOT to figure out how to fight as a couple without dragging us all into it. Or you can't work together anymore. I'm so serious.
And Buck and Eddie are like what are you talking about we're all good now!! we love each other everything's great! And Bobby is like *stares directly at the camera* oh so you're never going to have another conflict again for the rest of your lives?
And then Buck starts thinking about how HES GONNA SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH EDDIE AND HOW AMAZING IS THAT--sorry I'm getting distracted.
But anyway. Yeah. I think it's a process and they have to actually sit down together and figure out how they're going to handle conflict going forward because as much as they love each other and as much as it KILLS THEM to fight, no relationship is perfect at all times, even theirs.
#sibyl answers#eddiegettingshot#buddie established relationship spec#this one took a lot of thought and i don't even think i fully articulated everything in my brain....
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strength always seems to be linked to the ability to stand alone, which is why i think so many ppl overlook atsushi's growth
in the beginning of the manga atsushi is filled with self doubt and the second he thinks he's bringing trouble to the ada he turns and tries to leave and go on the run
now mind you atsushi has just felt for the first time something that could be acceptance (say what you want about dazai's blackmailing, but has anyone wanted atsushi enough to try and trick him into staying? not the best way, i know but in all its um dazai-ness, it did show that atsushi had something (his ability, etc) that was worth having) and the second he thinks he's hurting them he tries to leave --- he doesn't ask for help, he doesn't try and talk it out, he stands alone
and i dont think atsushi's weak for doing this, mind you. atsushi's kindness and selflessness are both things that are part of his character, and i dont think the headmaster had any part of it, despite what atsushi believes --- but for all it shows atsushi's care, selflessness, and kindness, it also shows how little he values himself and how much he believes he's essentially unimportant
(editing to add: it also shows his inability to trust the ada's strength overall, and their commitment to their members, and his own role as a part of them)
him leaving shows that atsushi has always been alone -- at the orphanage, with the headmasters "attention" he was alone, in his suffering, his pain --- or perhaps its that he's alone because the headmaster follows him forever - becuz in a way he's surrounded but yet somehow he's all he's ever had
when in 55 minutes atsushi tells kunikida and dazai about time travelling, its not a show of weakness it's a show of growth
it shows that atsushi has learned that he doesn't have to be alone. atsushi can rely on others --- even if atsushi still thinks the worst of himself, he's starting to think of himself as part of the agency -- as someone who can ask for help
strength and growth arent only the ability to stand alone --- which mind you atsushi has done -- he's done it for 18 years and he may not have lived but he fucking survived with all odds against him, he survived and with all the makings of bitterness and anger, he did his best to be kind
but atsushi doesn't have to be alone -- humans aren't meant to be alone, he's better when he's with people he can trust and with the agency he's able to have that and he's able to understand that he has that
atsushi's character goes from someone who only has himself to someone who can rely on others --- someone who can be strong becuase he has people, and who, when weak, still has them
this is pretty much explained by atsushi himself on the boat pre-akutagawa
atsushi has always been alone. but now that he's tasted what not being alone is he doesn't know how to be alone anymore -- not because he's weak but because he's grown as a character, because he's changed
because he knows that he can be around people who won't hurt him
atsushi fights stronger when he's with akutagawa because strength isn't being alone, it's the ability to trust others -- despite only learning why you should never -- it's the ability to reach out and stand next to someone as their equal and fight together
atsushi is easily one of the strongest characters, because he's finally learned he can rely on people
his character growth and development are breathtaking to watch
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lenaaaaaa god help me I’m so high rn I’m thinking about mpind matty pole dancing ans also giving girlie a lap dance fhis isnt good or my health I think
dont be shy pass the spliff
also mpind comeback after a bunch of wank everyone be happy x
Love me - Matty Healy
A/N: bit wanky, barely spell checked except for @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff 's weird sim reactions to whatever i write. Legend anon i hope this is filthy enough for you my love xx
wc: 4.5k
content warnings: smut, fluff, tw: my shitty comedy, handjobs, strip clubs, its george's birthday!!, begging, teasing, lap dance, matty in lingerie pt. 43, mentions of alcohol, lots of swearing, cumplay, grinding, it gets a bit sappy guys soz, sub!Matty
“A strip club? Are you never scared of being a cliché?” you scoff as the venue comes into view, strobing neon flashing in your face. The summer night is warm, a breeze kissing your skin as the gravel crackles under your feet, your quite high heels still not making you taller than George.
His birthday, the big one eight, was today, and his chosen place was of course, a local strip club.
“If that cliché is seeing half naked girls, no.” he sniggers, Matty’s bickering with Ross and Hann faintly heard behind you. You hook your arm into his as you approach the bouncer, the line surprisingly short.
“I forget you're an actual man sometimes.”
“How can you possibly forget?!” he lets go, flexing his muscles at you as some sort of display of masculinity, making you giggle behind your hand.
Matty takes this ample opportunity to swoop in from behind, pressing the side of his body up against yours. The four of you watch George proudly present his real I.D to the bouncer, a wide smile on his face as he takes it from him. The bloke gives him a weird once-over, waving him and the rest through without a hitch.
It's bright inside, but not in the way you would assume. Different colored lights strobe around, switching every 20 seconds or so, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your veins. Matty hangs on your arm as you look around, George immediately booking it to a booth with a stage as the table, wanting the best front row seat to the show. You roll your eyes at his eagerness, but then again, who could blame him?
Everyone files into the booth, George ending up wedged in the corner of the seating, uncomfortable but glass he could stretch his legs out under the table.
“Round of pints on me, happy birthday G. '' Everyone cheers, excluding Hann, who glares at Matty from across the table.
“Oh so now you have money? What about last week?” Ross lets out a quiet snigger, liking this turn of events.
“Shut up you cunt, it's G’s birthday! Lighten up a bit, old man.”
“Matty when I get my fucking hands on you-” Ross to the rescue, he presses a hand to his mate’s chest, keeping him seated.
“Alright girls, break it up.” he gives up, mouthing a curt ‘fuck you’ at Matty, rolling his eyes.
The waitress returns from the bar, bringing a platter of glasses with her. She sets them down, smiling at you before walking away, the neon lights of the club making her eyes shimmer.
“Cheers, happy 18th mate.” Matty plants a wet kiss on George’s face, making him squirm away in disgust.
“Get off you grade A wanker, your girl’s right there.” You blow him a kiss as Matty turns to you, licking a fat stripe up the side of your face, from your jaw to your cheekbone. Everyone at the table groans at his odd display of affection, Ross dramatically shielding his eyes and muttering incoherently as Matty finally sits back down, downing the rest of his pint.
Sure enough, right in the middle of Hann’s interesting story about his last date, a dancer comes over to the table. She climbs up, eyeing George, twirling around the pole a few times before doing this flip you didn't even know was humanly possible. The bralette she’s wearing glimmers in the light, reflecting off and into your eyes, distracting you.
George stares blatantly, eyes raking up and down her body as she dances, not letting her leave his line of sight. It's so obvious and she smirks at him, turning her body to face his direction before bending over, exposing her cleavage even more.
“Don't be a knob.” you hiss, not wanting to seem rude.
“She’s fit and it's quite literally her job!” a small laugh escapes the woman as she goes to speak, flattered at the exchange.
“It’s alright love, look all you want.”
“See!” George shouts a bit too loudly, proud of his correctness in strip club etiquette.
You sigh, nodding at her as Matty pokes your side.
“She is fit.” you whisper quietly, gesturing to her. Matty perks up, shoving you in offense.
“I'm fitter, don't forget.” you giggle at the statement, refusing to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
“She’s literally sparkling, I need to know what brand that is.” The rhinestone adorned lingerie set she was wearing captivated everyone at the table, hugging her curves in all the right places.
“Who’s to say I'm not either?” your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but you brush him off.
“Shut it, don't be a tosser.” his hand grips yours right before he speaks, bringing it down to the waistband of his jeans.
“I’m not.”
He uses your fingers to pull it down about an inch, revealing a pretty string of purple under his bottoms. Your breath hitches at the realization, eyes snapping up to meet his. Was he serious? Now?
“It’s George’s birthday.” you state, voice hushed so the others could overhear your conversation. Hann was already off to buy another round, leaving Ross and George to make ‘friendly’ conversation with the dancer, shamelessly staring at her tits the entire time.
“He won't mind, just look at him.”
Sure enough, George is ogling the dancer, lips parted and being such a boy it hurts. She’s clearly enjoying the attention as he leans forward, stuffing a wad of cash into the flimsy waistband of her thong, smirking.
“He’s already imagining a future with her, look!”
She sets a paper crown on his head with the words ‘birthday boy’ on it, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. A boyish blush spreads onto George’s face as her kiss leaves a mark of lipstick, Ross quickly snapping a photo of him to take the piss when they left.
“He desperately needs a lay, it's sad.” you comment, knowing it had been ages since his last girlfriend or even hookup, too focused on his coursework and music to go out more than the few times you forced him to.
“So do I, so I'd prefer it if we didn't drag this out.”
Matty gets up, climbing over you despite your quite loud protests, announcing his trip to the dance floor. You wait a few moments before following him, the sway of his hips and faint back muscles under his mesh shirt flexing as he walks, convincing you to just go with it, hoping whatever he had planned wasn't totally scandalous and wouldn't get you kicked out of the place.
He turns right past the dance floor, leading you into a narrow corridor off to the side. You catch up to him, close behind him as he slips a dancer some cash, nodding as he makes his way to the door at the end of the hall. Matty rushes in before you, the door almost slamming in your face. ‘Private room’ flashes back at you in yellow neon, making you raise your eyebrows.
The room is dark for the first few seconds as you hear Matty shuffling. Suddenly, the room lights up, giant mirrors covering the walls and ceiling, reflecting the light back and forth. You glance around, eyes landing on Matty.
A tall pole is the centerpiece of the room, pink metal running from the floor to the ceiling. Matty leans on it, left hand wrapping around it as he spins, smirking at you as you watch him, something stirring inside of you.
“Did you plan this?” you ask, a skeptical look on your face.
“Maybe.” his fingers run up his chest, playing with his nipples right in front of you. His voice drips with lust, coating your mind with only a few words, making it difficult to get even semi-coherent sentences out.
“Jesus, you're mental.” you gasp softly as he moves, fluid and sure, captivating you with every change of direction.
“But you love me, now sit.” you listen, not knowing what else you were meant to do in this situation. The chair is soft, cushions letting you settle in comfortably.
“Everything is so pink.” you mutter, gesturing to the mirror frames and pole, every surface some variation of the same color.
“Sort of the point, yeah? To set the mood.” he smirks, trailing his hands up his waist, letting his nails graze against his skin, mimicking the same thing you do to him.
“Mood for what?”
“You’ll see, be patient.” you roll your eyes at his words, the palms of your hands rubbing against the soft pillow of your chair.
“That's rich.”
“Please, for me?” He sounds so sweet, like he was asking you to bring him a glass of water, not to stay still while he touched himself in front of you.
“We both know I can't deny you.”
“How true.” he sucks in a deep breath, throwing his head back as he holds eye contact.
“Watch.”
“What do I-?” you stutter over your words, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as he feels himself up, fingers ghosting over his tattoos.
“Me, keep your eyes on me.”
He turns his attention back to the pole next to him, strutting around it as the music from the dancefloor dictates his movements, his back pressed to the cool metal. Matty parts his lips as he slides down it, running a hand over his chest performatively, watching your every reaction.
Your breathing becomes more shallow as he moves, thousands of fantasies running through your mind. He knows the effect he has on you, everything he does is purely to rile you up, make you lose your composure.
“You’re mad, this is-” he cuts you off with a sly smile.
“Incredibly hot? I’d rather you enjoy the show than talk over it.” you scrunch up your face at the implication that this was a performance, even if you did expect nothing less from Matty.
“Show?”
He runs a hand through his slightly messed up hair, showing off his neck as you stare at him, biting your lip between your teeth to keep from embarrassing yourself.
“I hate you.” you mumble as the music changes, some hip-hop song coming on. The faint cheers of the people outside are barely audible, but it serves to remind of just where you were. The guys were still at the table, most likely speculating the reason as to why the two of you have been missing that long, Ross surely already making crude comments that neither Hann nor George wanted to think about.
“You won't if you just wait.” you grip the edge of your seat, blushing profusely as he struts over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. His breath is hot against your neck, leaning over you as he settles into your lap. You finally clock it.
“Stay still.” he ‘orders’, attempting to mimic the way you speak to him when he doesn't listen.
“Are you giving me a lap dance?” he frowns at you, shaking his head in disappointment. A chuckle escapes you as the reality of the situation dawns on you.
“No need to define it darling, let it be abstract.” of course he’d say something like that, try to salvage the ‘artistic’ affair, failing miserably.
“You’re giving me a fucking lapdance, christ.” it's genuinely amusing. Your heart swells up at the thought of all the effort that went into this. Paying off the dancer with god only knows how much money, turning you on at the table just enough so you’d follow him, and probably even setting up the lighting in the room himself.
“You're such a bore, let me have my fun.” he kisses you, giggling into your mouth. His lips are warm against yours, your lip gloss rubbing off on him. “Oh, I will.” you promise, letting your hands fall limp as he grips your shoulders, rocking his hips back and forth. His movements are exact, practiced even as he grinds down onto you before lifting his body back up, bringing his hip tattoo up to eye level.
You don't think, mind clouded with desire and want. His shirt had ridden up a bit, and your rough tongue drags across the inked skin, warm against it as he shudders, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the sensation.
“No touching the dancers” he tuts, coming back down on top of you.
“I’m exempt from that rule.” you say, your voice surprisingly steady despite the white hot heat pooling between your legs.
“According to whom?”
“You.”
You let your hands settle onto his waist, gripping him so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next day.
“Fuckk, yeah okay,” he groans, the pressure on the front of his jeans increasing as all the blood in his head rushes south, his mind hazy.
“C’mon baby, finish your little performance.”
He moves to get off, smirking as you let him. You can see indents in his skin where you grabbed him, the sight making your breath hitch. He circles around you like a predator does his prey, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
His hands trail up your chest, fingers grazing over your exposed collarbones. Your skin flushes under his touch and you let out a soft moan at the feeling, earning a proud smile from Matty.
“You’re so gorgeous. I have to force myself to not get hard whenever you look at me.” his voice is sultry against your ear, making goosebumps bloom on the skin of your neck.
“Oh, way to exaggerate.” you snigger, not quite believing him.
“Honest truth.” he swears, instinctively doing the ‘scouts honor’ sign with his hand.
You snort, your little giggling fit interrupted by his mouth trailing sickly sweet kisses up your neck and to your jaw.
It doesn't take him long to make his way back around, your heart skipping a beat when he comes back into view. His chest is glistening with sweat, the warm temperature of the room clearly getting to him. Most notably, you notice the front of his jeans is unbuttoned and unzipped, flaring out on both sides, revealing almost the entirety of the silky, purple panties he had chosen to wear.
He relishes in your reaction, the attention making his ego grow exponentially as he moves back into your lap. Your hands trail up his chest, doing your best to not immediately pay attention to the underwear. You can't resist, though.
“These are new.” you toy with the thin straps, silk reflecting the colored light beautifully. You can see a note of pride ripple through him as you admire the material, grazing his cock through it.
“Got them just for you, you like?” The question is so obviously rhetorical. Of course you like, no, love them.
“So much.” your words are laced with love, soft and appreciative of all the effort he puts into getting you off, fulfilling your fantasy.
The way he looks at you is sinful, thoughts dancing behind his eyes visible as he stares, waiting for your next move.
He lets out a soft groan when you push him down into your thigh, biting his lip at you provocatively. “You're hard.” you smile as you say the words, his gaze softening when he sees the blissed out look at your face, eyes raking over his body. Even (almost) fully clothed, he was absolutely beautiful.
“See? Wasn't lying.” he presses a kiss behind your left ear, gently moving your hair out of the way. It’s loving, so honest.
“You sure it's not because of the mirror behind me?” you still cant help but tease him, gesturing to the giant mirror your back was facing. He blushes in response, stealing a glance at his reflection.
“You’re so cruel! I’ll just stop then, seeing as all you see me as is some egotistical deviant.” he threatens, crossing his arms over his chest in retaliation. You bring a hand up to cup his face, stroking his cheek softly, almost patronizing. Your mind swims with the power you have over him.
“You wont stop, you couldn't if you tried.” For the first time that evening, you call his bluff, the way he reacts to you exquisite as his lips part, no words coming out. Silence fills the room, even the music on the other side of the door seeming to die down. How long have the two of you been here?
“Am i right?” you question, not letting him off the hook like you usually would.
“..yeah–” his words are small, and you know you have him right where you want him. The lightest, slightest touch could send him hurtling over the edge, his hips rutting desperately into your hand as you palm him through his underwear.
“So pretty for me, doing all of this. Thank you baby.” you whisper into his ear as he gasps under your touch. It's so incredibly intimate that you can't help but drop your facade for a few seconds, kissing him sweetly, his lips moving against yours with desperation.
“Anything for you.”
“Anything?”
“Mhm.”
You take his cock out of the confines of his underwear, a sigh of relief falling from his parted lips as your fingers ghost over the tip, teasing him.
“Just stay still, let me make you feel good.” you murmur, feeling him up under his shirt, your nails digging into the skin of his back. He shifts on top of you, his body yearning for your touch.
“Please.”
You reach down to wrap your manicured fingers around his cock, the sight of the pretty colors of your nails around him making his eyes roll back in his head, his mind spinning with all sorts of possibilities, mostly focused on not finishing right in that moment.
Tugging lazily on his cock, you drag your fingers from the base to the tip, a satisfying whimper spilling from Matty’s lips, the sound spreading through your entire body. His back arches against you and the kiss he presses against your mouth tastes like the cigarettes he chainsmoked on the way to the club, mixing deliciously with the hint of alcohol on his breath.
“Let go for me, feel it.”
He trembles, the noise he lets out is desperate, filthy, shooting straight to your core. Everything is heightened. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he leans forward into you, chest pressing against yours as you run your fist up and down his cock, small whimpers of pleasure spurring you on.
“Fuckk, that feels so good–”
Matty’s words are choked, his effort to hold back a bit obvious. He’s hungry, wanting, evident in the way he ruts into your hand, his fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders, the sharp pain making you sigh, pleased.
“Be nice and loud for me, let me hear you.” you coo into his ear, your free hand dragging up his back under his shirt, the mesh bunching up. “So good to me, treat me so well, god– shit.”
He twitches as you dig your thumb into his slit, a shiver spreading through his body
The way he’s not even undressed is obscene, the fabric of his jeans gathering under his hips as he’s perched on top of you, feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. You watch him, engrossed in pleasure, completely blissed out expression on his face. His head is thrown back, exposing his pale neck, faded hickeys and marks still visible from your last encounter.
“You're staring” he breathes, your eyes snapping up to meet him. A filthy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, your focus on him and only him. His hair falls over his face, obscuring it slightly, much to your disdain.
“You're giving me reason to” you brush curls out of his face as your movements still, letting him speak properly, uninterrupted.
“Yeah, I want you to look at me.”
You smile lovingly, cocking your head slightly to the left as you tease him, one of your fingers twirling his hair.
“Gets you off, my attention?” he doesn't even try to deny it, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere.
“Mhm-m” he nods, panting. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, silently begging you to continue.
His hips stutter as you grip his cock tighter, your other hand stroking his face sweetly as you stare into each other's eyes, his face flush as pornographic moans spill from his lips. His back arches again, your bodies pressed against each other as your hand snakes between the two of you.
“F-fuck, i’m so close, please let me cum, please.” His voice is high-pitched and whiny, tears threatening to spill at the overwhelming pleasure.
“You beg so nicely, let me hear you baby.” you whisper words of encouragement as his hips buck up into your hand involuntarily, every ounce of self control in him dissipating.
“I need it so bad, please i've been so good for you.”
He hiccups in a way that almost makes you feel bad, his desperation so obvious. You speed up a bit, just a bit, giving him that sweet, sweet relief he’s been begging for for god knows how long now.
“P-please, oh fuck, yesyesyes fuck.” precum bubbles at the tip of his cock, and you smear it down, coating him in his own arousal. It's unbelievably hot, his entire body twitching at the sight of your fingers on his cock, a sight he desperately tries to commit to memory.
“You’re leaking all over my hand darling, so filthy.” he whines into your neck, and you lick across his jaw, making him shiver
“Make a mess, c’mon, come for me.” an animalistic groan fills your ears as he rapidly approaches his orgasm, writhing under your touch.
“Y-yeah– fuck thats so good, your hand feels so good, fucking made for me.”
Matty’s possessive nature made your head spin with lust, his eyeliner smudging down his face as he stares into your eyes with such an intensity it felt like he was going to consume you.
His skin glows under the soft pink lighting, making him seem ethereal, like a true angel. His noises are like music to your ears as he spills into your hand, spurts of cum coating your bare stomach, barely missing your (quite expensive) cropped shirt. Matty kisses you immediately after, hands threading through your hair as he drinks you in, stealing your breath straight from your lungs.
Wordlessly, one of his hands moves down, gathering the remnants of his orgasm onto two fingers, tapping your mouth with the other. You indulge him, parting your lips to let him push his digits past them, the salty taste of him taking over your senses. His pupils are completely blown out in desire, not able to process what was happening in front of him, a loopy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart swell up with love
“Perfect.” he mumbles as you lick his fingers clean, smiling mischievously at his dazed gaze. Matty pulls you in, holding you close, desperate to not let go.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Where were you two?” Ross’s voice is accusatory as the two of you finally return to the booth, the dancer from before having already left. A faint blush spreads onto your cheeks as the memories of not 20 minutes go flash through your mind. Hann doesn't help your situation at all.
“Probably shagging, just look at him.” your head turns, seeing Matty’s blissed out expression, a content smile replacing his usual nasty grin. You elbow him in the ribs, a silent plea to say something, but he promptly ignores your silent begging.
“Shut up you dickhead, you don't know shit.”
George points at Matty, now grinning wildly, reminiscing about the events of tonight. He’s oddly calm, which would be concerning if it wasn't for the monstrous case of post-sex hair he currently had
“Jesus, what did you even do to him?” George is taking the absolute piss out of you, and for good enough reason.
“I don't kiss and tell.” you attempt to change the conversation topic as you settle back into the booth, commenting on the pint glasses. You're ignored in favor of laughing at you further while matty remains completely unbothered, the glow he emitted so fucking obvious it hurt.
“Well he sure does, I've heard much more than necessary.” Ross sniggers, pulling a face at the not-so-distant memory of Matty’s sex bonfire-storytelling session that had happened a few weeks prior (not at an actual bonfire, but on the floor of your living room, completely pissed while you were out with your girlfriends.)
“Did you at least wash your hands?” Hann asks, the question directed at Matty, whose hands were loosely wrapped around his nearly empty pint glass.
“Didn't have to.” he grins, waving his hands in Adam’s face proudly, like it was some sort of achievement.
“Oh fucking hell, too much info.” George groans, cupping his face in his hands at the mental image of what he thought had just happened. You laugh inwardly, the whole situation absurd. This was the furthest you had ever gotten in discussing anything relating to your relationship with Matty, and it honestly felt weird.
“I’m never touching you again mate, no fucking way.” Ross stated, a disgusted look on his face.
“Awwe Ross, how will you do without my touch?” You make grabby hands at him, climbing over George to drape yourself over the booth, touching his hair and face, Matty’s and Hann’s hysterical laughter spurring you on.
“GET OFF ME!!” he yells, clawing at you to push you away, absolutely mortified.
George, slightly more pissed than the rest of you, announces his mission to get the dancers number, swearing up and down that “She had this look in her eye, i’m so fucking serious.” he manages to stumble over his shoes about three times before finally standing up straight, brushing off any ‘dust’ (crisps) that clung to his raggedy band tee.
“Good luck mate, not that you need it.” Hann tries to be encouraging, knowing just as well as the rest of you how George got when he had a few too many pints. Terribly emotional and impulsive, there was no stopping him once he had his sights set on something, or in this case, someone.
“I definitely don't” he glares at you over his shoulder, strutting across the dance floor in direction of where he’d last seen her.
As he walks away, Ross sniggers.
“He definitely does.” and you can't help but giggle along as he trips over a stray stair, falling right onto his face. Hann goes to help him up, ignoring your collective jeers to “Stop ruining his chances at true love!”
With an ice pack pressed to his face, George can only roll his eyes at the various comments for the rest of the night, despite it being his birthday.
#good morning guys#its actually seven pm at night it just seemed fitting#the 1975#matty healy#george daniel#ross macdonald#adam hann#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#matty healy x reader#matty healy fluff#truman black#matty the 1975#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic
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sharp fangs || sam & colby || part two
SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. sam and colby are vamps hehe🧛🏼♀️. TW: SMUT WITH PLOT. this fic contains blood, brief gore, murder but like it’s justified tbh. mainly you just have two vampire bfs obsessed with you lol. made this shit extra long. ps: part three will not take as long i promise. enjoy my beloved readers. MWAH <3
Sam and Colby absolutely adored you. You were the apple of their eye, the air that made them feel like they could breathe again. They couldn’t get enough of you, making a conscious effort to spend every moment they could with you. When you were away they’d clean your apartment. (Or snoop through your things.) When you went to sleep at night they’d take shifts watching over you while the other went out to hunt.
You were so darling while you slept, the contentment and peace on your face the sight of a lifetime to them. In all of their long years they had didn’t think they’d allow themselves to get attached to another human. After the first two hundred years they saw all of their companions die, leaving them alone with just one another. All of their past lovers met the same inevitable demise, death becoming an old friend of theirs.
The routine was beginning to become old, the two deciding interacting with humans was pointless. Humans were so fragile, so unfortunately disposable. Whoever they chose to get attached to could get hit by a bus and die, or catch a simple cold and it’d end the same. They shared the same fears with you, which they tried to repel by watching over you so heavily. You liked it in an odd way, having your two best friends become angels watching over you. Both Sam and Colby only shared two fears. They feared the day you’d unexpectedly die from a tragic occurrence. Turning you into one of them was out of the question, your soul deserving better than eternal damnation.
The only thing they feared more, was when you truly saw them for what they were. They knew everything about them was appealing to you. Their looks, their voice, even down to their scent. They believed you truly cared for them, but they weren’t convinced you actually comprehended how terrifying they could be. How savage and ruthless they could become. They feared once you realized this, a look of genuine horror spread across your face, you’d wish them away. Forever.
Often times they tried to ignore this fear. After all, right now you were standing in between them, asking them questions about being a vampire. Your fingers were intertwined with Sam’s, Colby’s arm lazily hanging over your shoulders. “Coffins?” You asked. Colby chuckled, an ice cold winter breeze flying past the three of you. “Did we bring coffins when we moved in?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, hoping the boys didn’t notice your visible shivering. They did.
It wasn’t unusual for the three of you to go out for a snack late at night, the empty streets allowing Sam and Colby to be visible without disguises or questions. “Alright alright. How about garlic? I may be Italian, you never know,” You asked. Sam had given you his jacket a few minutes ago, your lips still turning more white by the second. How had they not thought this through better? As the blonde looked down at your eyes, the soft doe kind that made their frozen hearts flutter, he remembered. Right, that’s why.
“Human food doesn’t bother us. You can make as much garlic bread to your hearts content,” Sam replied, placing a small kiss to the side of your head. Small snowflakes had entangled themselves in your hair, Sam’s lips forming a frown. You were willing to make yourself this cold and potentially sick for a twinkie? The three of you finally approached the tiny store, Colby handing you a wad of cash. “Jesus Christ, a twinkie does not cost more than a hundred dollars Colbs,” You gasped, looking at the wad of crisp and shiny hundred dollar bills. “I read about inflation all the time. Just get a few snacks so you won’t have to nearly freeze to death for a twinkie,” He insisted.
You smiled softly, placing a kiss on Colby’s cheek. “Alright i’ll be back,” You say, before dipping into the grocery store. Sam and Colby preferred to stand outside, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. “We didn’t have twinkies in our time right?” Colby asked. Sam let out a chuckle. “Dude we were actively there for the salem witch trials. We absolutely did not have twinkies,” He answered. Colby teasingly elbowed him, the two leaning against the brick wall outside of the store.
“Just double checking. Couldn’t recall if we were around to try those hyped up little rolls,” Colby told him. It was odd when they thought about it, how long they had roamed the earth. It was always just the two of them during life and then resurrection. They couldn’t help but feel like you were the final piece to the puzzle, the third to the trio. Yet they feared how long they’d actually have with you. Especially when you opted to eat twinkies a majority of the time instead of actual food. (Colby had agreed to learn how to cook just to get you to eat better.)
Sam’s ears twitched for a split second, the sound of footsteps flooding them. He looked around, both him and Colby as still as statues. “You hear that?” He asked the brunette. Colby nodded, equally as on alert. The weather was undoubtedly freezing. No economic crisis was occurring, there would be no reason for a regular human to be roaming the streets this late at night. “I’ll go check it out. Stay with her and i’ll meet you guys back at the apartment,” Colby huffed, dashing off into the night. The ringing of the bell attached to the store door rang, your happy face emerging into sight. You had already broken into one of your twinkies, taking a big bite. You went to hand Sam the wad of cash, before searching for Colby.
“Where’s Colby?” You asked, wiping the white cream off of your bottom lip. Sam’s mind briefly went to filth, before resuming to the matter at hand. He didn’t want to worry you, but he also didn’t want to lie. Since they had met you they had agreed to not lie, the truth something you’d have to handle if you wanted them around. “He’s off investigating something he heard. He’ll meet us back at the apartment,” Sam explained. You laced your fingers with Sam’s, allowing the blonde to walk you across the street. “You think it’s another one of your kind?” You asked, taking another bite of your twinkie.
Sam purposefully kept you on the side away from the road, ensuring no car would hit you if it came brawling your way. Especially with the icy roads, Sam knew human drivers would be unpredictable. (Big shocker: he wasn’t a fan of automobiles when they came out.) “I doubt it. This is our territory now. Our scent is everywhere,” Sam reassured you. You shoved the empty wrapper in your pocket, leaning on Sam for support as he walked you home. His body was cold and statue like, yet you found comfort the more you touched him.
The three of you didn’t want to make things confusing after you all met. After all, the sex was just supposed to be a one time thing. A peace offering in the boys minds. That’s what it was supposed to be. Yet the memory constantly lingering in the forefront of all of yours minds. There was a not so subtle craving that you all wanted it to happen again, the timing just not seemingly right. Sam and Colby didn’t believe in rushing things, even if you didn’t have all the time in the world as they did. Snow crushed underneath your sets of footsteps, Sam’s hearing acutely on alert for intruders.
Yet he couldn’t find it within himself to hear anything over the soothing sound of your heartbeat. It was music to his ears, the sound gratifying to him. It was so soothing in fact, it was distracting. This distraction created the perfect element of surprise for a man in a ski mask to emerge from the alleyway shadows, grabbing you. “Sam!” You screeched, thrashing against the criminals grasp. Sam was forced to let go of your hand, knowing he’d accidentally tear it off if he held onto you and played tug of war against the criminal. Sam could hear it now, the disgusting blood flowing through the lowlifes veins. He had been so blinded by how ethereal your presence was and now he was paying the price.
The flash of a blade sent Sam into an angry frenzy, baring his fangs at the attacker. “Sam! Help me! Colby!” You screamed, your voice echoing off of the alleyway walls. In the blink of an eye Colby was on the attacker, biting into the side of his neck. The grasp on you was released, your body falling to the ground. You quickly turned around, moving backwards on the icy sidewalk. Colby wasn’t feeding onto your attacker, his gaze was much more intense than that. Much more unhinged. He yanked his head backwards, tearing his throat apart. You barely had time to blink before Sam was on the other side of the attacker, copying Colby’s actions.
Clumps of flesh hit the ground, streams of blood flowing everywhere that you looked. Your attacker was long dead, your heart thumping so loud you thought it may burst out of your chest. You continued to back away, your back hitting a street lamp as you watched Sam and Colby. Any mortality they had, any sense of pride or self control had been washed away by the biggest wave. Neither of them were hungry, the taste of the attackers blood sickening. They received no satisfaction from feeding on him, their animalistic craving ordering them to tear the threat apart.
So they did, the man’s neck now a pile of unidentifiable blood and flesh. You swallowed, staring at your best friends. The ones who did your laundry and watched sitcoms shows with you. The ones who looked over you every single moment of the day, even when you didn’t want them to. The same ones who had once fucked you merciless, your life never having been the same afterwards. Blood coated both of their hands, the same crimson paint dripping down their chins and necks. Sam’s maroon sweater was now soaked, Colby’s leather jacket stained with splatters.
Sam dropped the attacker first, his eyes darting around in search of you. You were a pitiful sight, one Sam wished he didn’t have to see. You were on the ground, your back hugging the closest streetlight. Your hands were buried into handfuls of snow, your fingers turning red from the cold. Your eyes were widen, your gaze refusing to stray from him and Colby. Sam swallowed, the rancid taste of the attackers blood still coating his tongue. He walked in front of you, crouching down to your eye level. “I’m so, so sorry,” He whispered. You looked terrified, surely of them. Sam was very sure, his eyes soaking in what he figured to be the last time he’d see you.
Colby quickly joined his side, the corpse abandoned behind them. You had never seen so much blood before, the color seemingly everywhere you looked. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Colby cooed. He brought his hand up to your cheek, lovingly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The blood was staining your skin, the feeling unnatural and making you slightly uneasy. Yet, when you looked at the two killers in front of you, you felt nothing but pure awe. Sam was trying to find the words to say to you, expecting the worst. Colby didn’t seem to have the same thoughts as him, which only made the situation ten times worse.
“I-I-I-” You began stuttering, unable to form a coherent sentence. How could you do it? How could you ever thank them? They saved your life. The faint sound of sirens interrupted the conversation, the boys heads turning to the left at the same time. “Sorry princess the conversation is going to have to wait. Let’s get you home,” Colby said, scooping you into his arms. You curled up against his chest, the stench of blood flooding your nostrils as you nuzzled against his shirt.
\/
The boys had gotten you inside safely, setting you down on the couch gently. “Do you need anything? Water? Food?” Colby asked. There were only a handful of things a human could need, surely there were maybe five max. In his mind at least. Sam’s mind was soaring in the other direction, his mouth running dry. You shook your head no, meeting their gaze. “Thank you,” You said. Sam blinked a few times, trying to ensure he heard you correctly. “We’d do anything for you,” Colby answered, crouching in front of you. The blonde braced himself, sure this was the end.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do my best to protect you. I know what you’re doing to do and I just have to say that I-” Sam began, your widened eyes stopped him. Fuck, you really had no idea the power you had over them. The three forbidden words were on the tip of his tongue, the ones that would only make this harder. You quickly rose to your feet, cupping his face into your hands. Gratitude had washed over you, your body demanding to give them a reward. You couldn’t deny that although unsettling, the sight of them covered in your attackers remains made your heart skip a beat.
“I wanna thank both of you, for saving my life,” You say, looking up into Sam’s red orbs. A thousand thoughts ran through the blondes head, many of them thinking they had broke your sanity or something along those lines. “Are you not scared?” Colby asked, approaching you from behind and resting his hands around your waist. You shook your head no. “You both won’t hurt me,” You answered. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t know that. You saw what we did. We ripped his throat apart. Tore him to shreds,” Sam huffed, “What exactly makes you so confident we wouldn’t do that to you?”
His words were hurtful, even if they did hit the hammer on the nail. “You did that to protect me. I know you. I know you both. You won’t hurt me,” You answered again, more confident this time. Colby exchanged a look with Sam, the gears in his brain finally turning the same way his were. “I think what Sam is trying to say is that what you just saw was a lot to process. It is for us, which means it has to mean even more to a human-” He began, your sharp eyes turning around to meet his. Your eyes were shooting daggers, a look Colby knew to not threaten. “Enough with the whole ‘weak human’ bullshit. I may not be immortal but I have a brain you know,” You snapped.
Yeah, Sam had came to the conclusion that they broke you.
“And what does your brain tell you about what you just saw? About the two blood soaked demons that are standing in your living room?” Sam questioned. Your facial expression softened, your eyes resuming their doe like fashion. “They’re telling me that you’re both vampires. Vampires with habits and tendencies I anticipated. Ones that don’t scare me,” You answered. Why didn’t they understand? Could they understand?
Your words seemed so sincere, both boys back on you. It was Colby in front of you this time, Sam’s chest pressing against your back. “We are so sorry you had to see that,” Colby told you. He grabbed your chin, guiding you to look up at him. They could hear your heart skip a beat, the blood smudging against your soft skin. “It’s okay. If it makes you guys feel better, you both look awfully hot covered in blood like this,” You say, biting your bottom lip. Sam pressed himself against your ass, his hands traveling up to your breast.
“Really, is that so?” Colby hummed, smirking down at you. He centered his thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down teasingly. “In that case, let us show you how sorry we really are,” Sam murmured into your ear, pressing a kiss against your earlobe. You groaned, his large hands kneading at your breast. “Open your mouth princess,” Colby muttered. You did so, flattening out your tongue on display. The brunette could feel himself getting hard, watching you eagerly suck his thumb as he put it into your mouth. The taste of blood coated your tongue, your pupils dilating as you looked into Colby’s eyes.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” Colby praised. He removed his thumb from your eager mouth, replacing it with his lips. His taste made you feel drunk, your body becoming putty in between the boys as Sam tweaked your nipples. He chuckled darkly into your neck as they hardened under his ice cold fingertips. “Always so eager,” Sam murmured, sucking hickies onto your neck. He could feel your veins, hearing the blood flow through your delicate body. Colby’s tongue slid into your mouth, the brunette careful to not nip you with his fangs. Your desperation only made them harder, your sinful noises only becoming louder.
“Fuck, i’ve missed this,” Colby panted, pulling away from your lips. A thin string of saliva hung between both of your lips, your lips now swollen. “We’ve missed this,” Sam corrected, working on his third hickey. Colby dropped to his knees, eager to please you. “Let me taste you, fucking please, just wanna make tonight up to you,” Colby pleaded, his desperation washing over him. You could feel Sam’s hips roll against yours teasingly, ripping a groan out of your throat. “Answer him baby,” Sam encouraged, the smell of your arousal flooding his nose. You licked your lips, your balance unsteady.
Sam’s large hands kept you in place, his assault on your throat relentless. “Please, do whatever you want to me,” You whined, raking your fingers through Colby’s hair. The brunette quickly pulled down your skirt and stockings, accidentally tearing them in the process. “We’ll buy you new ones,” He muttered, bringing your panties down to your ankles. Your slick was drenched for them, Colby’s eyes blown with lust as he admired your cunt. This is all he could think about since the last time he saw you like this, so wet and desperate.
“Go on baby, use Colby’s tongue the way you need,” Sam said encouragingly. You pulled him towards you by his hair, his eager tongue lapping up your juices. Your knees almost buckled, Sam quick to keep you in place. The blonde was having a hard time restraining himself, your blood calling to him. Your smell was always so delightful and it only became more so when you were a moaning mess. “Sammy,” You whined, using your spare hand to grab his wrist. Colby’s lips sucked at your clit, making it harder to form coherent sentences.
“Yes baby?”
“Drink from me,” You panted, grinding against Colby’s face. Sam blinked, unable to deny or question your request. Your blood was sweeter than any others he had tasted, his body always yearning to have another taste of you. He slowly sank his sharp fangs into you, the piercing pain subsiding into a blinding euphoria. “Oh my God,” You whined, clawing at Colby’s hair. His large hands were keeping your thighs pried open, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Sam drank from your neck like a starving man. “Thats it princess, keep using me. Make yourself cum on my tongue,” Colby ordered, the sight of you crumbling enough to make him want to cream his pants.
Sam managed to pull himself off of you, panting as he did so. Your blood was so intoxicating, so addicting. It’s like you were made for them. He lapped at your neck, cleaning your wound as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Fuck fuck fuck,” You whimpered. Sam slithered one of his hands around your waist to keep you upright, using the other to guide your head to turn. He brought his lips to yours, swallowing each noise you made with his mouth. You could taste your own blood, the metallic taste sending you over the edge. You pulled at Colby’s roots are you came, your vision clouded with stars.
Colby emerged from between your thighs, bruises of where his hands had held your thighs apart already forming. Sam picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You smashed your lips against his, the boys bringing you to your bedroom. Your back hit your plush mattress, the boys switching positions. Colby stood in between your legs, undoing his belt. “You sure you can handle me princess? I won’t go easy on you like Sam,” He smirked, causing Sam to roll his eyes. You nodded eagerly, reaching behind you to undo Sam’s belt.
“I’m not just a human Colbs. I can handle whatever you throw at me,” You say, as cocky as you can muster. The boys exchanged mischievous looks, their cocks throbbing with excitement. You laid your head back, quickly helping Sam take off his pants. You could feel your core throbbing with desire, Colby making himself right at home in between your legs. He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, soaking in the feeling. You stuck your tongue for Sam, eagerly awaiting his cock. The mere sight of it was making your mouth water.
“You have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you,” Colby confessed, pushing himself inside of you. You moaned, your noises being muffled by Sam’s cock as he placed it inside of your mouth. The vibrations sent a chill down his spine, your name falling off of his lips. “Fucking hell, you’ve got to try her mouth,” Sam groaned, pushing himself down your throat deeper. Colby grinned as he bottomed out, your walls milking his cock.
“Trust me I remember, everything about her is a slice of heaven,” He replied, gripping your waist harshly. He began to move slowly, slithering one of his hands down to your clit. Your thighs trembled at the extra stimulation, Colby’s thrust speeding up rapidly. Both boys seemed to be in a state of heat, their hips moving faster than you could keep up. “You’re so pretty like this,” Sam praised, watching the shape of his cock go up and down your throat. Colby bit his bottom lip, his sinful noises threatening to spill out at a rapid rate.
“You’re taking me so well. Like you were made for me,” Colby grunted. He drew faster circles around your clit, your waterline flooding with tears as Sam’s cock abused the back of your throat. They were merciless, hell bent on making you cum whilst chasing their own highs. “Made for us,” Sam corrected, his orgasm coming quickly. He pulled himself out of your throat, watching as you stuck your tongue out, desperately trying to lick the underside of his cock. He jerked his shaft above you, depositing his seed directly into your mouth.
“You’re so fucking hot, my fucking God,” Sam panted, watching you eagerly swallow his cum. Your mouth was free to moan now, your mascara smudged and tears peaking at the corner of your eyes. “Just like that, please, feels so good Colbs,” You babbled. Colby grabbed both of your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. He felt impossibly deeper, his cock abusing your g spot as it pleased. “You’re fucking milking me princess, it’s like you want me to cum inside of you,” Colby moaned, his thrust relentless.
Sam snickered as he lowered himself near your ear. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be bred by him? By both of us? Such a dirty girl, wanting to be bred by demons,” Sam snickered, licking the side of your neck. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, your body beginning to tremble. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” You warned. One of your hands found Sam’s squeezing it tightly as you felt your orgasm wash over you. He now felt what Colby felt before, the butterflies swarming around his stomach at the romantic gesture.
Colby’s hips stuttered, his thrust coming to a halt as he came inside of you. He slowly pulled out of you, collapsing on the other side of the bed. The rooms sounds consisted of your rapid breathing and heartbeat, for Sam and Colby at least. Colby stroked your hair as you calmed down, Sam’s hand never straying from yours.
“Hey guys?” You hummed. Sam could’ve jumped on his feet right then and there. Anything you needed. Anything you wanted. He’d eagerly walk to the ends of the earth to get it for you. “Yeah?” He replied, awaiting your orders. You giggled, looking over at him.
“Wanna have a round two?”
#sam and colby#sam and colby smut#sam golbach#colby brock#colby brock x reader#colby brock x y/n#colby brock x you#sam golbach smut#sam golbach x colby brock#sam golbach x reader
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roommates: epilogue.
your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
prev. masterlist.
You wake up in your bed, draped with Kunikuzushi's cape. You do not remember falling asleep. Stretching, you wince at the ache in your back and neck, the soreness in your thighs. Apparently, hiking up an entire cliff had not simply been one long dream.
A whole night has already come and gone, with the sun peeking out of the horizon and into a new day. Slinging the cape over a shoulder, you wonder if he is home.
He is.
He has even bought breakfast. It smells particularly delectable, all spread out across the dining table, and you realise he has gotten your usual order right. It makes you feel something rather warm inside.
“You bought breakfast,” you say, grinning. You plop yourself onto a chair. “I'm touched.”
He picks his cape off your shoulder, clicking his tongue. “Don't be. It was your mora I used.”
“Same thing.” You swat his words away with a wave of your hand. “Come sit and eat with me. You bought too much.”
You both know he doesn't need to eat, nor does he like doing so. At your wide eyed look, he rolls his eyes, humouring you anyway.
There's something different about him today, you think, glancing him up and down. He meets your gaze, raising a fine brow in return. You wink back cheekily, and he turns his nose up at you haughtily.
Ah.
He looks lighter. Less tense, less guarded. That usual air of wary indifference about him has dissipated somewhat, leaving behind a fragile sort of familiarity. Perhaps it has something to do with that night two days ago.
He had looked perfect that night, with moonlight glittering on his hair and stars reflected in his eyes. Though, you muse to yourself, Kunikuzushi has always looked the best in the sunlight.
It was true. Be it bathed in radiance and daylight, or shuttered with sunrays through the leaves, he has always, always looked like an angel. You suppose he might not see himself the same way, but you know in your heart it is true.
“Are you done staring?”
Your gaze snaps right back up to him. He scowls, arms folded, and when your eyes meet, he glances away.
You shrug, a smile creeping up your face. “For now.”
Secretly, you think you may never get tired of staring at him.
“So like, what do you do now?” you ask, swallowing down a mouthful of food. “Helping the Dendro Archon can't be all that you do.”
Looking incredibly put off, he huffs. “Unfortunately, it seems being ordered around by that god is all I'm good for now. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if I got enrolled into the Akademiya to make up for the stupidity of those Vahumana scholars.”
“Don't be like that,” you chide. You know of how impossibly hard Akademiya scholars worked, your mind wandering to Kaveh for a brief moment. He doesn't deign to reply to that.
Honestly, it sounds as if the Dendro Archon was trying to rehabilitate Kunikuzushi into society or something. Forcing him to live with a roommate, having him run her errands, and now even attending the Akademiya? He must know it too. There is no way he does not.
Vahumana suits him, in an odd, roundabout way. Not to mention, he'd look great in the Akademiya's uniform. You cock your head to the side. “Why not? Becoming a scholar is great.”
“What use do I have for mortal schooling? If anything, I am more learned than all of those scholars combined.”
“Sure, you're brilliant,” you snark. He preens at the praise, sarcastic or not. Archons, he's ridiculous. “But you should consider it anyway. Maybe you'll like it.”
“I doubt so,” he tells you stubbornly. Then, he shrugs. “But since you begged so nicely, it seems I have no choice.”
Oh, how you want to hit him.
You glance up at him, glancing away just as quickly. Your plate squeaks as you drag your fork across it, and you wince, setting it down. Kunikuzushi lets out a breath through gritted teeth, scowling. “Spit it out already, you fool. Haven't you kept me waiting long enough?”
You look up at him, surprised. Something had been lingering at the back of your mind ever since you woke up, but you aren't quite sure how he'd react if you brought it up. It must show on your face.
That thought shows on your face too. He scoffs, but this time, he looks a tad too pleased. “As if it would take a genius to read you. Now, out with it already.”
Wrinkling your nose, you glance away, humming. You suppose you'd never find out if you never asked.
“Well, what happens now?” You gesture between the both of you, then at the world outside the door. You can't bear to meet his eyes, your words uncertain and low. “Between us? I really don't know how else to put it. Are we still friends? Are we not? Were we — were we even friends at all? I mean, it's been so long and so much has changed…”
Friends, you say, because even though there was a time you were almost lovers, that time had been too fleeting to count.
A thunderous silence settles.
One breath, then two.
“You think too highly of yourself,” he says loftily. “You're just as predictable and insufferable as you were centuries ago.”
Your head snaps up, and despite the nonchalance in his words, there's a certain sort of intensity in his gaze.
“So, we are? Friends?”
He smirks, crossing his arms, leaning against his chair. He looks down at you slightly, all haughty, but it's as if a wall has crumbled away. “I suppose you've earned that right.”
You beam. He's ridiculous. On a whim, you stick out a hand.
Sunlight hits his face just right, and Archons, you can't help but feel he looks simply divine. He takes your hand at your insistence. It’s cool to the touch. He smiles a small, soft smile. It's warm.
No secrets, and no lies. No past, but an infinite future.
It's perfect.
“Well then! Nice to meet you, Kunikuzushi. I'm so glad we can finally be friends.”
fin.
bonus scene, years later.
“‘We're just friends’,” you mimic him, reminiscent of a time long past.
He scowls, face turned away from you. Grumbling under his breath, he shoots you a dark look. “I despise you.”
“And here I thought you looove me?” you tease, placing a hand over your heart as if wounded. You sling an arm around his own before he decides to fly off and ditch you in the middle of the city, and he doesn't even stumble at the sudden move now. You're getting predictable. Hmph. You'd come up with something later. “Who's the one who was all like, and I quote, ‘Then and even now, you —’”
He slaps a hand over your mouth, flushing pink at the tips of his ears. He swears it was but ‘a moment of weakness’. He does that a lot.
You pry his hand off your face, interlocking your fingers. He doesn't push you away. Instead, he leans in a tad bit, till your shoulders brush and your steps start to sync.
Smirking slightly, you look down at him, as haughty as he always does. “Whatever you say, darling.”
taglist.
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived @skyvella @theautisticduck @someonealreadyhadmynickname @wanderersumbrella @im-just-here-for-the-coffee
#scaramouche x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#scaramouche#genshin#genshin impact#soo thats it. yeah thats#the end. woah.#thank u for reading!! i hope you enjoyed
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 21/34 - eggs benedict
[Read on AO3]
It’s strange, staying with Sheriff Adderly and his wife Ellen during this case in Vermont. If he had his way, he’d be checked into a motel instead of infringing on their hospitality, but he’d been given no choice. They even refused reimbursement for their troubles, which did nothing to lessen the feeling—however true or untrue it was—of him being a burden to them.
Ellen Adderly had pulled out all the stops for their guest, preparing decadent meals on fine china for every meal, claiming she’d have done it whether he was there or not. He has a hard time believing that. He can’t imagine living in such a way every day of his life. He and Scully barely manage to set out real plates to eat on when they order takeout at home, and he certainly doesn’t expect her to have a three course meal set out when he gets back from work. Besides the fact that she’s always at work with him, it’s just not something he thinks is necessary. Is that something she’d want to do? He doesn’t think so.
The routine they have works for them, that’s all that matters.
But after getting a taste of his own personal brand of domesticity, it’s… odd… to see how others do it. He’d never have thought there were so many different ways to balance home life, much less enough that he’d start to form an opinion on them. His parents had been one way—not a particularly healthy relationship—and he and Scully are… well, they’re not really anything besides roommates, but that still counts, in his book.
Whatever they are, he likes it. Far better than this constant fussing, at least.
Mrs. Adderly must notice his discomfort, because at breakfast as she masterfully puts the finishing touches on his eggs benedict, she says “I get the feeling you're not used to anyone taking care of you,” and for some reason, that assumption grates on his nerves.
He takes a measured draw from his cup of steaming coffee, swallowing back his immediate retort.
“What makes you say that?” he asks instead. She probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but it still comes off as rude. He has someone to take care of him, thanks very much. Just not exactly in the same way as Mrs. Adderly insists on taking care of her husband… and apparently Mulder too.
“I’m sorry,” Ellen says, realizing her statement had come out somewhat offensive. “I just mean… I didn’t see a wedding band.”
She nods at his left hand sitting atop the table, and he follows her gaze to the bare ring finger.
“Do you have a significant other, Agent Mulder?” she asks.
Significant? Yes. Very. Other? That’s a good descriptor. Single, married, other. Yeah, he’d select other, if this were a multiple choice question. Although he’s pretty sure that’s not what she meant.
“I’ve– um…” he starts, wondering how best to describe his situation to this woman. “I’ve got a wife, actually.” He pulls out the ring on its chain to show her. “It can be dangerous in my line of work to have it on display,” he explains lamely before tucking it back into his shirt.
Ellen smiles. “Ah, well that’s good. Don't miss out on home and family, Mr. Mulder. I imagine with all the things you see, you need that refuge more than most.”
Her words hang in the air, a bit of sage advice from a woman he otherwise has very little in common with. But before he really has a chance to think about what she’s said, Sheriff Adderly makes an appearance, and it’s back to business. Ellen excuses herself to go check on their daughter, leaving the two of them alone to discuss the case.
Mulder remains seated at the table, staring down the sheriff with a knowing look. He’d begun to suspect—and now his suspicions are all but confirmed—that the man had been unfaithful to his wife, and it makes him feel sick. Here this man has it all; a loving wife, a sweet baby that they didn’t have to jump through a million hoops to get, and yet he’s willing to throw it all away for some cheap thrills.
He’ll never understand it.
The man is no more forthcoming about his knowledge of the case than he had been before, so Mulder lets it slide for now. The last thing he wants to do is show all his cards too early and spook him. He gives him just enough to leave him rattled. To let him know that he knows .
He lets the unspoken threat hang between them until the sheriff folds, squirming away to take a shower, or so he says.
He’s still seething in bitter disgust when Ellen returns, carrying her sleepy baby in her arms. It’s a well-practiced juggling act, Mulder can tell, as she goes about fixing herself a plate of her now lukewarm breakfast. With only one arm, she clearly struggles to transfer strips of bacon out of the pan, and Mulder gets to his feet.
“Here, let me help,” he says, joining her in the kitchen. What he’d meant was that he could help assemble her plate, but as he goes to reach for the spatula, he instead finds himself being handed a baby, and his eyes widen comically. “Oh, right,” he says, then plasters a forced smile on his face. Sure, this was what he’d meant to do all along.
The little girl is heavier than he’d expected. Like a sack of flour, though with limbs jutting out everywhere. It takes him a moment to adjust, his hands holding her awkwardly beneath the armpits.
“Hi,” he says conversationally, looking down at her like she’s a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment. The baby just blinks at him, a blank stare on her face. “Okay,” he mutters to himself, lifting her to his hip and returning to the table. He makes every effort to not look like this isn’t the first time he’s held a baby in—well, basically forever, but he’s not sure he succeeds.
Ellen smiles across the table at him and digs into her meal.
“Do you have children, Agent Mulder?” she asks, “You and your wife?”
It still makes his heart flutter to hear someone refer to Scully as such, but he supposes that to Ellen, it really is that simple. Scully is his wife, that’s all she knows.
He’d always thought conversations like this to be so dull. ‘So, Dave, how’s the ol’ ball and chain? Kids staying out of trouble?’ But, now…
Well, it’s different now that he actually has something to contribute to the discussion.
“Yeah, actually, one on the way,” he says, giving a self-conscious little smile.
He’s never told anybody about this other than Skinner, but he supposes there’s no harm in telling this random woman in Vermont. It almost makes him feel… normal. Like he can relate to other people over the simple fact of his impending fatherhood. A shared human experience. A milestone in his life that doesn’t involve aliens, ghosts, ghouls, or any manner of cryptozoological entity.
“We’re adopting,” he further explains. “Only a couple months left till the birth mother’s due date.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Ellen exclaims, smiling up at him over her bowl of fresh fruit. “You must be so excited!”
“Very,” he says, looking down at the drooling baby on his lap. “We never really thought it was possible. That we’d ever—”
He pauses, the shrill tone of his cell phone breaking into their conversation.
“Speaking of my wife,” he says, flipping open the device. “Hey, Scully. How’s the stakeout going?”
Her voice crackles over the other side of the line, drawing a genuine smile out of him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that, Mulder, so that I can give you the good news I just received.”
His stomach does a flip. “Good news?”
He pictures her nodding, sitting in that grimy, cold room surrounded by surveillance equipment, somehow brightening it with her smile. “Krista called and we had a little chat.”
Mulder looks up at Ellen from across the table, where she’s watching him with a knowing smile. “Oh?” he says.
“Mm-hmm. And you know what she told me?”
Scully is extra cheeky this morning, huh? He misses her horribly. This is the last time he’s letting Skinner split them up for a case. After this, no more. He’s putting his foot down. What are they going to do, fire him?
“What did she tell you?” he asks, turning to instead stare at the floorboards, giving himself the illusion of privacy despite the constant watch of Mrs. Adderly.
“She told me the sex of the baby. Would you like to know?”
His heart thumps in his chest suddenly, its rhythm erratic. This, he hadn’t expected first thing in the morning. He hasn’t even finished his first cup of coffee yet.
“She finally found out?”
“Yeah, Krista said she was a lot more cooperative at this appointment than the last one,” Scully explains.
Mulder freezes.
“She?” he says, his voice raspy with awe. “It’s a girl?”
He hears Scully release a shuddering breath before her voice comes back, with all the telltale signs of happy tears that he’s come to recognize in the last few months.
“It’s a girl,” she confirms.
It’s a girl. He’s gonna have a baby girl.
“That’s– that’s amazing, Scully! That’s… wow!”
“I know,” she says. “I’m– You’re not disappointed, are you?”
“Disappointed?” he asks, furrowing his brow. “Why would I be disappointed?”
Disappointed is the absolute last thing he’d be feeling right now. Elated is a better word. Maybe a little scared, but he’ll get over it.
“I don’t know, I just thought… You know, you talked about coaching little league, and I’m sure you want someone to watch basketball with you…”
He laughs. He can’t help but laugh. “Just because you don’t like basketball doesn’t mean other girls don’t,” he says matter-of-factly. “And have you seen girls softball teams, Scully? They’re brutal. You try getting hit by one of those giant neon yellow ostrich eggs at 50 miles an hour. I volunteered to practice with the girls once in high school. Almost lost an eye.”
“But what if she doesn’t like sports at all?” Scully asks, and he’d bet good money that she’s chewing on her lip right now, the way she does when she’s worried. “What if she’s on the chess team or plays the violin or the piano?”
Oh, Scully.
“Then I’ll learn all the names of her concertos and cheer her on at every chess tournament,” he answers simply. “Look, Scully, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you and I are both gigantic nerds. I think we’ll be prepared for whatever she’s interested in when she gets older.”
She . They can finally stop talking about her in abstract terms. A girl. A daughter.
“Your mom’s gonna flip,” he says when she doesn’t respond. Margaret Scully has a grandson, but no granddaughter. He can just see the little plaid dresses, frilly socks, Mary Jane shoes, and giant velvet bows in their future. She’ll be spoiled rotten.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Scully says, sounding wistful.
“Me too,” he agrees. “When I get back, we’re going out shopping again. I think maybe this time I’ll be able to hold it together in the clothes section.”
That earns him a laugh.
“I’m willing to bet it will go the same way as last time,” she teases back, and she’s probably not wrong. Just picturing this baby, a little girl like the one he’s holding now, has him emotionally on edge.
“I– I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he says, glancing up at the clock. “Let the thought of warm baby snuggles keep you from freezing your butt off.”
She sighs, the annoyance of her less than ideal assignment returning. “Thanks for reminding me, ” she intones.
They stay on the line a moment more, waiting to see who will be the one to hang up. Eventually he hears a soft click, and he smiles down at the phone in his hand. Goodbyes have never been necessary between them. Maybe that’s just another way they’re weird, but he likes it.
The baby in his lap gurgles, and he sets his phone on the table to turn his attention back to her. He sees her differently now, with the knowledge that he has a little girl on the way too.
“You’re going to be an amazing father,” Ellen says, eyes shining as she watches him.
Mulder feels his cheeks beginning to burn. “Oh. Thanks.”
“No, really,” she says more insistently. “You seem to care a lot already. And wanting to be involved… Well, that’s everything. Your wife is a very lucky woman.”
“I’m the one who’s lucky,” he says, and he truly believes it.
He’s the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.
~~~
wife guy / girl dad mulder says you get another chapter :)
Chapter 22/34 - pizza boxes
The sound of keyboards clacking fills the dimly-lit room. A greasy bag that once held at least a dozen cheap tacos from the place across town sits atop a stack of empty pizza boxes, not that the inhabitants of this particular abode pay much attention to that kind of thing.
“Hey, here's something weird,” Langly says, looking up from the computer monitor, the unnatural light of it reflecting off his glasses.
“What? Is it Krycek again?” Frohike asks, crossing the short distance to lean over the other man’s shoulder. “What’s that little rat up to now?”
Langly adjusts the bright, warm-toned desk lamp to minimize the glare on the screen.
“No, just something strange in my sweep of government records,” he says.
“Mention of a virus? Shadow government stuff?”
Langly shakes his head. “It flagged a document mentioning Mulder and Scully's names.”
This bit of information piques Byers’ interest from across the room. “What agency? Homeland? DoD?” he asks, joining the other two at Langly’s computer.
“County court in Annapolis, Maryland,” Langly reads off the screen. “Dated December 24, 1999.”
“Open it!” Frohike demands impatiently.
It takes only a few seconds to hack the database, which is a little alarming. What would the public think if they knew how insecure county records are? But that’s a concern for another day.
The document slowly appears on screen, and three pairs of eyes take in the information all at once.
“That's… unexpected,” Byers says.
“Married? Since when?” Frohike exclaims.
Langly looks up at him with a condescending glare and smacks the older man in the stomach. “Since Christmas, idiot, haven't you been paying attention?”
“Not that, stupid,” Frohike says, quick to respond with a slap to the back of the blond man’s shaggy head. “Since when are they an item? Did I miss something?”
“You seen a rock on her finger lately? I haven't,” Langly comments.
“Get Mulder on the phone, that little sneak owes us an explanation!” Frohike snaps, pointing a finger at Byers.
The phone rings a few times before it connects, the voice of their friend coming through on speakerphone.
“Now's not a good time, boys,” he says. There's some kind of noise in the background, someone speaking, but they can’t make out who it is. It doesn’t sound like anyone they know.
“Mulder!” Frohike yells into the phone. “What gives, man?!”
“Yeah, bro, we'd have thrown you a bachelor party if we'd known,” Langly adds.
A sigh crackles through on the other end of the line, and Mulder murmurs something indistinguishable to someone before finding somewhere quieter to talk.
“How'd you find out?” he asks, sounding annoyed.
“Your marriage license record came up in one of our regular sweeps. No other threats, by the way,” Byers answers.
“Except maybe Frohike,” Langly jokes. “He might want to challenge you for her hand.”
Byers snickers.
“Shut up! I'm happy for them,” Frohike says, glaring at his friends.
Langly rolls his eyes. “You never stood a chance.”
“There's an explanation for this, I swear, now's just really not a good time,” Mulder says, insistent.
“What's there to explain?” Frohike asks. “You guys fell in love and got married without telling your best friends. No big deal.”
He’s not genuinely trying to guilt trip Mulder, but it does sting a little that they hadn’t said anything to them. Maybe just a little tiny guilt trip. A guilt excursion, if you will.
“It's not… really that simple,” Mulder says, his words hesitant.
“What do you mean?” Byers asks.
“I know you didn't knock her up, obviously, so what more is there?” Langly says, as delicate as a brick to the face.
“Well,” Mulder says, “I kind of did, in a manner of speaking.”
“Scully's pregnant?” Byers asks. This is shocking news. It should be impossible! “But—”
“No, Scully's not pregnant,” Mulder quickly corrects before the conversation can spiral out of control more than it already has. “But… we are expecting, actually. Hopefully.”
“IVF?” Byers asks.
“Not IVF. We tried that last year though, you're a little late to the party.”
Jeez, what haven’t they missed? Maybe the real conspiracy is whatever the heck is going on with Mulder and Scully.
“Then, what—?”
“We're adopting,” he says, interrupting them. They can almost hear his smile over the phone, all goofy and care-free. “There's a woman that selected us to adopt her baby when she’s born, so… I'm actually at this class for new parents with Scully right now. I should probably be getting back. Don't want the teacher to flunk me.”
“Wait wait wait,” Frohike says. “Adopting? How long have you guys been… you know?”
“Well we only started talking about it back in November. It's honestly moving pretty fast, but we're excited.”
“Not that,” Frohike says, waving his hands in the air. “You and Scully!”
“Oh,” Mulder says awkwardly. “Um, we actually aren't. A couple, I mean. If that's what you're asking.”
Frohike’s jaw drops. “You're kidding.”
“No, I'm not.”
“But you're married!” Langly insists.
“A formality.”
“The IVF!”
“Favor for a friend.”
“Yeah, right!” Frohike says with a laugh, sharing a disbelieving look with the other Gunmen.
“You love her, don't you?” Byers asks, sincerity breaking through his friends’ incredulity.
“If you're just gonna harass me, I'm going to hang up.”
Okay, so he’s done sharing for now. They’ll just have to try to get more out of him later.
“Mulder… what are we going to do with you?” Frohike asks, shaking his head.
“Listen, guys, I've got to go. We're learning how to change a diaper and I'd really like to not make a fool of myself, if at all possible.”
“Wait,” Frohike says. “Tell Scully congrats for us. We're happy for you, Mulder.”
“Yeah, we just think you're a complete idiot too,” Langly adds bluntly.
“Thanks, guys. We're really happy. Sorry I haven't been around, it's been crazy.”
Well, now at least they know why Mulder has been missing their poker nights and D&D lately.
“Don't worry about it, Mulder. Just—maybe tell us what's going on next time?” Byers suggests.
Mulder puffs out a laugh. “Sure, next time I marry my partner with the purpose of adopting a child, I'll let you know.”
Frohike points seriously at the phone, despite the fact that Mulder can’t see it. “Watch it, buddy, you're already on thin ice.”
“I'll talk to you guys soon,” Mulder says. “Oh, and if you're ever looking for me, I'm staying at Scully’s apartment now, by the way. I gave up my apartment.”
“Dude…” Langly says. There's something seriously wrong with those two.
“Alright, I gotta go. I'll tell Scully you say hi.” And with that, he hangs up, leaving the three amigos to take in everything they’d just learned.
“Aren't a couple…” Frohike grumbles, repeating his words. “They're a couple of idiots, I'll tell you that.”
Byers nods his agreement, and Langly shrugs.
“Lucky kid, though.”
~~~
Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]
@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear
#msr#txf#x files#xf fanfic#mulder and scully#my fanfiction#fox mulder#dana scully#of our own making#ooom#msr adoption fic#adoption
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There's something odd about Ockham. Ockham seems cordial enough when you meet at a society soirée, or in the crowded lobby after a theatrical performance, even if Ockham seems to say very little. It's not until you get out into the crisp night air that you feel suddenly awake and refreshed, and the haziness of your encounter truly sets in. What were you talking about anyway? Did she say something important? Was it she? Or maybe it was he... you seemed to have known at the time. The longer you think on the encounter, the more nonsensical it seems. What did Ockham even look like? Your memory of him... them(?)... doesn't seem right, like trying to remember a dream... Perhaps it's best not to think too hard.
Though it would be many months before Ockham himherthemself would catch wind of it, Ockham is not the original sailor who fell into the mirrored surface of the sea, but rather his Parabolan reflection, and an amalgamation of memories and identity from both the original, as well as many from the Fingerkings in possession of said body for the better part of a century. Something like this is not unheard of in Parabola, but a creature native to the Is-Not should not have been able to escape to the Is.
The transition is not seamless. Ockham seems to give off significant viric radiation when outside of Parabola, and it tends to affect anyone who tries to interact with himherthem.
Ockham did eventually manage to track down the body of the Original, still possessed by Fingerkings. The interaction did not go well. This has left Ockham at something of a loss at what to do about it, that would not endanger hishertheir existence. Ockham wants some sort of revenge on the Cacophony, but cannot risk their retaliation to hishertheir counterpart, due to the very real risk that it would affect himherthem too. Expelling the Fingerkings, however, might also have negative effects, should the majority of hishertheir memories then return to their original host. It's a quandary.
-
Ockham speaks several languages (primarily Flemish and French, but also German and to a lesser extent Spanish and Portuguese). English falls near the middle of this range, though it's not a language that Ockham willingly learned or has any interest in improving (courtesy of being impressed into the Royal Navy, and now living in London). It's a language heshethey's been forced to use, and Ockham refuses to respect it. As a result, there is a very large gap between what Ockham might think, versus what heshethey would actually say aloud (this is partially due to linguistic difficulties, but also because Ockham doesn't often feel the need to voice most of hishertheir thoughts).
Ockham is very blunt and direct. Heshethey doesn't care much for etiquette rules and will cut right to the point. Ockham also finds a lot of the social stigma around certain topics in Victorian society silly, and has no compunction walking right over those taboos and discussing or acting on them. This occasionally leads to trouble.
Ockham is also stubborn, often to hishertheir own detriment. A certain degree of spitefulness also goes hand in hand with this. Ockham can and will hold very petty grudges. Heshethey can also be cruel or truly nasty at times, but never without provocation.
Heshethey is a quick judge of character, and steadfast to those who pass the vibe check, with a high breaking point for when an acquaintance would fall out of hishertheir good graces.
Ockham doesn't really have close friends. The language barrier and the difficulty being perceived don't make it easy. This doesn't bother Ockham much, since heshethey's used to and doesn't mind it. Ockham often seeks out busy spaces, just to spend time in and bask in the ambiance. Romantic encounters also often don't seem to have much depth, when some other priority inevitably catches Ockham's attention and heshethey doesn't have the time and energy to maintain an in-depth interpersonal relationship. Ockham is happy to enter a romantic or sexual relationship, as long as all parties are in accordance over its likely intermittent nature.
Ockham's clothing choices tend to favour practicality over aesthetic (practical to the mind of a working class 18th century sailor, at least), often dropping the respectable amount of layers when the weather grows too warm, without much care for the signals it sends off. Most of hishertheir clothing is in neutral colours, though heshethey is not impartial to a nice green. Ockham's hair was a long-standing point of contention with the Navy, and therefore out of principle extremely unlikely to change. Heshethey normally plaits it out of the way, though does occasionally wear it loose.
-
Ockham's original plans to work as a zailor were thrown out almost immediately after coming to the Neath. The Zee is a horrible place. There are creatures in there. Ockham set fire to hishertheir ship and has not looked back.
Though technically a Silverer, Ockham does not spend any time trying to attract clients. Most of hishertheir work nowadays is in tracking creatures in Parabola and collecting bounties for them. Ockham's also considering expanding into Parabolan imports and exports.
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# #. KINGDOM CALLING !!
Being a Keyblade Wielder you thought you'd have seen everything by now. But you never expected to end up in a world where the villains you defeated were worshipped.
more twst x kh content because i’ve been hyper fixated on it for the past few months T_T speaking of, the reason I've been gone for so long is because I’ve now got a fic in the makings- using this exact concept! it’s posted on my wattpad and quotev, but I’m also debating if I should put it on this site… it’s quite long though! lmk if you guys think I should :]
Twisted Wonderland was weird.
You thought you’d have seen everything by now. Being a Keyblade Wielder, your job was to travel across worlds, defeating the darkness and hate spread by those willing to conquer.
You’d experienced stories and magic you could barely comprehend, standing on the sidelines as you watched fairytales play right before your eyes.
Creatures and supernaturals were considered friends, being far different from the monsters you imagined them to be. Even talking animals were a common thing now, having traveled with Donald Duck and Goofy for a better part of three years now.
You never thought you'd miss them.
Your life back on Destiny Islands was simple. Back there, you had a home; with small rowing boats and hammocks on the tiny island a quick swim away. You had proper food, with star shaped fruits said to bind your soul with your loved ones. Most importantly- you had your best friends; Sora, Riku, and Kairi— all eccentric yet lovable characters that held your heart. You would do anything for them.
The island was a sanctuary, a place for comfort and familiarity. If you had known what you did now, you would've trapped yourself there, basking in the warm sand and cool water brushing across your body. But then, being young and immature, you just wanted to leave.
Three years have passed since then. Years full of mystery and surprise.
You had undergone many things on your journey; battling against Heartless and monsters. Falling down rabbit holes and encountering princesses every which way you turned. Meeting leaders of all kinds of worlds, binding your hearts to create everlasting friendships. You had even sided with villians, willing to set aside your differences to accomplish your goals.
It was odd… working with Maleficent.
At one point you even had your heart stolen. Ripped away from you to create a husk. And that was just the surface.
You thought you had seen everything by now....
But Twisted Wonderland was weird.
Everything happened so suddenly; kicking open an overly fancy coffin ( far different from the ones Jack Skellington used ) only to be met by a creature that looked oddly like Stitch. But before you could ask anything, he gave chase, demanding you give him your robes— how did you even get these on?
Panic stricken, you ran. Running across classrooms, hallways, and courtyards- all while trying to get away from the cat.
Questions and concerns began to gush through your mind. How could you have gotten here? Where was everyone?
And where were you?
The next thing you knew, you were in a regal library, cornered by the monster. Floating books and dancing lanterns surrounded you, all approaching with intrigue. They all seemed to be observing you, like they were anticiping something.
Blue fire brushed across your skin, the flames flickering against your robes. You realized they were waiting for a spell, like they knew you would cast it before the thought could even pop into your mind.
Just as you raised your hand, getting ready to summon your Keyblade, a whip wrapped around the cat.
Both of you jumped, eyes darting to the double doors, finding a crow-looking man standing there. He looked oddly disappointed. Your eyes immediately narrowed, hands tensing.
Just looking at him made you feel on edge.
He was radiating darkness.
His golden eyes seemed to be staring right into your soul, gazing deep and pulling you apart from the seams. They pierced through your own. Entrancing. Like they were studying and discerning your moves. You didn't like them.
They looked like a villians.
You were wary of the man, raising a brow when he introduced himself. Crowley was his name; Descendant of a Hero. An odd name for someone whose heart seemed so full of darkness. He led you to a chamber room, surrounded by floating coffins and magic. Dark energy overfilled the room, whispers and cackles echoing from robed figures as they eyed your form.
You thought back to Organization XIII.
You didn't like robes all that much anymore.
They were traumatizing.
Crowley huffed, pushing you in front of— the magic mirror? Was that the one The Evil Queen used?
The mask in the mirror spoke, blank eyes narrowing at you as if you'd attack it at any second. Of course, it had every right to be afraid. Your friend literally threw a giant key at it once. Hopefully it could get passed that though, and you could ask it how you got here?
It bullshitted something about you not having a soul, ( you had a strange inkling it was being petty but whatever ) but before it could finish, the cat broke free.
He yelled, claiming he was strong enough to be at this school, and that he deserved your spot. You tilted your head at his outburst. Was that all he wanted? You gladly would've given your spot to him. You weren’t meant to be in this world in the first place. Hopefully you’d be out of here soon.
You had Heartless to go fight.
You had to go find Sora.
A quick mishap occurred, with Grim ( you remembered his name ) setting the room on fire. Apparently he was trying to show off his magic; an odd way to do so but you digress. A red haired boy chased after him, along with a boy with glasses.
Their magic was strange, coming out of a jeweled pen of all things.
Wind magic was casted, similar to your own Aero spells. Water attacks were aimed at it, easily dousing the blue flames. It was honestly amazing, watching so much magic come out of a tiny pen.
The redhead stopped in front of the cat, pointing his pen at him with narrowed eyes. Your own widened as he shouted a curse.
Off with your head.
That sounded awfully familiar.
…
Crowley was going to kick you out.
The magic mirror- or rather the dark mirror- explained that you didn't have a home to go to. You guessed it was because Destiny Islands was a whole other world, and simple mirror travel wouldn't be able to reach that far.
No matter, you could simply contact Donald or Riku on your Gummi phone and go home.
But of course, the first time a phone specifically made to communicate between worlds doesn't work is when you need it most.
So you did the only thing you could.
And showed him your Keyblade.
He muttered something to himself, widened eyes never leaving the blade in your hand. His feathers ruffled in surprise and intrigue, the slight curl of them being… strange.
It was as if they were smiling.
Your eyes flickered to his own- noticing his scary… intense gaze.
You didn’t dare break contact, being far too focused on those piercings eyes.
Those haunting, golden eyes.
Eyes that looked just like Xehanorts.
The Headmage led you to a rundown cabin, home to a variety of ghosts and cobwebs. The building reminded you of the ones in Halloween Town; rundown with mischievous creatures inhabiting the spaces. These ghosts just looked like marshmallows.
You let out a low sigh, allowing yourself to fall on the dusted couch in the lounge. Debris flew up under your weight, flying into the air before dissapting. Your gaze was focused on the ceiling above, dazed as rain droplets fell to your cheeks and the wooden floors below.
The building was silent, aside from the rain. Wind blew against cobwebs, flying past your face and sticking to the rotting wood. Splinters and jagged pieces spiked up, parts of the walls ripped apart from age and student endeavors.
It was lonely here.
You didn't have anyone in this world.
Not even Jiminy fucking Cricket.
You hadn’t been alone in a long time.
The door creaked open, "Myah- it's really pouring out there!"
...
Twisted Wonderland.
That's what this place was called.
A world very befitting for its name.
Everything about this world was off— or at least— Night Raven College was.
Students seemed to love and adore the beings you had tried so desperately to keep away. They had dorms dedicated to them, embracing their darkness and allowing themselves to fall under its curse. Darkness that you had to get rid of.
Of course, they didn't actually know about the dangers you faced, finding these villians to be great and kind. They didn't know of the death and tragedy caused- the mistakes you had to fix.
It was strange though. Worlds weren't supposed to know of one another, otherwise chaos could ensue.
So why was Twisted Wonderland a combination of them all?
You suppose that's how this place got its name.
Everything in this world was twisted. Villians were considered heroic; great and all mighty beings that you and Sora definitely didn't beat.
While in the botanical gardens you sometimes laugh, imagining Leona's face if you told him you helped kill Scar. He gives you weird looks, telling you to shut up and go back to sleep. You try. It doesn’t work.
It wasn't until the Riddle incident did you realize why you were sent to this world. Darkness and hatred had been accumulating in the corners of this realm, seeping into the depths of people's hearts.
It was at times like this that made you miss Sora.
You turned over on your bed, eyes focused on the ceiling above. Moonlight seeped in through the wooden cracks, bits of the glowing celestial body peeking in. It was almost speaking to you, luring you towards it with the promise of comfort.
Kingdom Hearts.
Your eyes shut, turning away from the beckoning moon.
Well whatever. You had another long day ahead of you.
…
Thoughts? This was just a quick wip that I made in like an hour lolll. I’m thinking of doing another part tho, where we dive into character interactions and such. Rlly wanna write for Silver and a KH! MC!
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#kingdom hearts#kh#kingdom hearts x reader#twst grim#kh x twst#twst x kh#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar
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Star-daughter 1/?
* When Elwing jumps, she knows it isn’t only her own life she is taking, but what other choice is there? If it makes her a kinslayer she doesn’t care. Not really.
* Being changed hurts. It splits her bones, stretches her skin and reshapes her insides. But she lives, and so does the little spark in her.
* Eärendil cries when she tells him of the sack of Sirion; he weeps for their sons and she weeps along him. Then Elwing tells him of the life they can still save, and this time Eärendil’s tears are of happiness.
* The choice isn’t really a choice. It is a new beginning offered to her, a chance to once more rebuild a life for her and Eärendil, and maybe this time they will see their child grow up together.
* Elwing cries in her tower at the edge of the world, looking up at her husband’s ship sailing the skies. She cannot fly to him by now, her body too changed to risk another change. Each night, she climbs the stairs up to the top of her tower, a hand supporting her heavy belly, and looks at the Silmaril’s light until her eyes hurt.
* She is not fully alone for, one day, a golden-haired Elflord and a giant hound came to her door, arms full of presents and brimming with friendship. Elwing let them in and they made themselves at home.
* Huan hunts and Finrod cooks; dishes she has never heard of, dishes from Doriath and the folk of Bëor from lands that no longer exist.
* Elwing hurts, in body and soul, but her new friends soothe the pain and loneliness. She sleeps curled against Huan’s warm and furry side, his snout protectively resting on her belly. Her child won’t be alone.
* She gives birth the night after Eärendil left again after a too brief reprieve from his doom, and names her daughter Elrodel, star-princess.
* The babe is her father’s portrait, all golden locks, blue eyes and dimpled smile. Each night, Elwing climbs up the stairs and shows her daughter the course of Vingilot.
* Finrod is besotted with Elrodel, telling her a thousand stories and more, giving her more gifts Elwing knows what to do with. Elrodel is likely taken by Finrod and wails whenever he is gone for too long.
* Huan looks over Elrodel too, let her ride on his back and teaching her all there is to know about the local wildlife.
* Elrodel’s first word is mama, and Elwing smiles not to burst into tears. Then Elrodel turns to Finrod with her beaming, dimpled smile and says “Da!”
* Elwing flees the room. She runs up up up the stairs, to the last level of her tower. There she collapses amidst the birds and sobs until her eyes burn and her throat aches. A gull pecks at her hair.
* When she comes down, Elrodel is babbling in that language of hers, showing her toys to Huan. Finrod nods gently at Elwing; his eyes are red rimmed despite his smile. “She will learn to call me uncle, eventually,” he says. Elwing nods in return and picks her daughter up, retiring early for the day.
* Elrodel is one year old when Eärendil is granted another reprieve. Elwing waits for him on the pier leading to the edge of the world, their daughter securely held in her arms. Finrod went to stay with his family south, in Alqualondë, and Huan is roaming the wild hills.
* Eärendil is changed. He is thinner and almost shimmers in certain lights. Elrodel shies away from his calloused hands and prickly cheeks, and it takes Elwing everything she has not to think about how her sons would react in a similar manner when Eärendil returned to Sirion after one of his journeys.
* They make an odd family, the three of them in this lonely tower. The tired star-mariner, his sad wife who speaks with birds and their bright daughter who runs on the beach and plays with otters and seals. Elrodel never saw another child, never met someone else outside of her strange little family. Her best friend is a dog and her uncle once ripped a wolf’s throat with his bare teeth.
* It could be worse, Elwing muses as she watches her daughter warm up to Eärendil. She rides on his shoulders as they walk down the beach, pointing at seals swimming in the bay, at hidden puffin nests on the cliff and shiny shells half-buried in the sand.
* Eärendil has sand in his hair and a twinkle in his eyes that night, and Elwing is reminded with a pang of their walks on the shore with their boys. But this is lost forever, and she must focus on the present or fade from grief. For better or for worse, she is one of the Eldar, and she will fight every single day for this life she choose.
* Finrod returns with relatives in tow, a golden haired couple that can only be Eärendil’s parents, Idril and Tuor. There are many tears as they reunite, and much cooing at Elrodel.
* Elwing smiles and chats, serves tea and accepts the gifts from her inlaws, but her heart bleeds. She hates the part of herself who is jealous of her husband for having a family when she has none.
* Too soon, Eärendil has to leave again, and the tower feels colder and lonelier than ever. Even Elrodel’s laughter cannot warm Elwing fully.
* Time passes, and the news Finrod brings from the wide world are darker by the day. Eärendil doesn’t come ashore for many years as war rages back home, in Beleriand. Elrodel grows, wild and joyful, blissfully unaware of her parent’s grief.
* She has forgotten Eärendil, Elwing realises. Her daughter doesn’t know she has a father.
* It is her fault, for speaking of Eärendil is so painful she prefers to lock her memories of him away in her heart, with her two little boys. Elrodel never heard of them either, her brothers slain before she even came into the world.
* Idril and Tuor come to stay in the tower. They tell Elrodel stories of her family. Of Eärendil and Sirion, and Gondolin before that. Elwing takes refuge with her birds and listens to their chatter and gossips. She misses being a gull.
* The war is won, Beleriand is no more. Elwing weeps for the loss of her homeland.
* Eärendil docks down at last, wan and tired and the shadow of the man she loves. Her husband, the dragon-slayer, the Star of Hope. Elwing runs down the pier and throw herself at him with all her love and despair. His embrace is cold and unfamiliar and he weeps in her hair.
* Elrodel is taller than her father now, a grown woman with too bright eyes who walks barefoot on the sharp cliffs. She speaks to birds and sea beasts more often than to Elves.
* She looks at Eärendil and she is a little girl once again, shying away from him yet stealing glances at this stranger from behind her mother.
* They stay up long in the night, talking of this or that, Elrodel recounting her latest exploration of the hills with Huan. Elwing sits close to Eärendil, never let him out of her sight. She feels he will disappear of she closes her eyes even for a moment.
* It is much later, once they are alone in her - their - bed, that Eärendil speaks of what he saw. Not everything, Elwing can hear the untold horrors in the pauses of his speech, but enough for her to have an idea of what happened to her beloved homeland. At long least, he closes his eyes, red from crying and staring at the Silmaril for all these years, and he says: “They live, our boys. I saw them both from above, managed to send a letter to them.”
* Elwing grips Eärendil’s hand with all her strength, the air stolen from her lungs. Her boys live. Her two little stars. Elrond and Elros. She cries against his shoulder as Eärendil tells her of Elros’ valour and Elrond’s wisdom.
* The next day, Elwing takes Elrodel for a walk on the beach and, for the first time since that fateful day where she jumped to her supposed death, she speaks aloud of Elrond and Elros. She speaks until her voice gives out and tears stream down her cheeks, and then she sobs and wails for all the years she has lost, kneeling in the sand. When she comes to herself, Elrodel is nowhere to be seen.
* Elwing tries not to fret, for she knows learning she has two older brothers she will never meet must be a hard blow to her daughter. She recalls well enough her own reaction when she learned of the fate of Elúred and Elúrin. Still, Elwing paces her tower and the beach, listens to the birds and tries to find what comfort she can in the tales of their sons Eärendil tells her.
* It takes Elrodel two full weeks to come home, dirty and tired but with Huan walking in her steps. She hugs Elwing hard, then Eärendil, and wordlessly walks to her room. She doesn’t come down for supper but there is a letter for Elwing on the kitchen table the next morning.
* Mum, father, I will be staying with uncle Finrod for the foreseeable future. I hope I can forgive you in time for hiding my brothers from me, but I think I can start to see your reasons. I love you, Elrodel.
* Elwing is alone but for the warm mass of Huan beside her to see Eärendil away again. He spent nearly two months on land, and she knows not when she will see him next. His task now is of uttermost importance and she wishes she could go with him, to guide their son to his new homeland.
* Elrodel sends letters, news of Tol Eressëa, Alqualondë, then Tirion, Valimar and the Woods of Oromë. She never mentions her brothers nor when she plans to return home but each letter eases a little of Elwing’s grief. Her daughter is seeing the world, what she is allowed to see at any rate, she meets people and makes friends. Eleing feels a little guilty for keeping her secreted away in their tower at the edge of the world for so long.
* It takes Elrodel twenty years to come back home, and she is not alone. Finrod is with her, a familiar face, and a young Teler who looks at Elrodel like she hung the moon and sun in the sky.
* “Mum, meet Ciuran, my husband,“ is the first thing Elrodel says. Elwing can only smile and welcome her new son-in-law into her house as a tempest of feelings rages silently behind her smile.
* Elrodel is with child, and she wants to give birth and raise them in the place she spent the happiest years of her life. Ciuran is a good man for her, smoothing her sharp edges with his kindness but not taming her wild spirit. He is of the Teleri, after all, and knows that the sea cannot be tamed or contained.
* Elrodel is much like the sea indeed, Elwing muses as she reacquaint herself with her daughter. She is brash and loud and unstoppable, but also full of life and warmth. They are much more alike in temper than Elwing ever imagined, she realises after these long years of separation.
* Huan is as protective of Elrodel as he was of Elwing when she was pregnant, and it is an amusing image to see the tall woman walk on the beach, preceded by her large belly and trailed by the huge hound, Ciuran at her side.
* Elwing rips the seeds of jealousy from her heart and nurtures the joy to see her daughter so well loved and supported. At night she lays awake in her too large bed and curses at the stars above.
* Eärendil doesn’t come home for another three decades. When he finally sets foot on solid land Elwing nearly runs away from this ghost of her husband, but she puts on her brave smile and leads him to the tower by the hand. Eärendil is haggard and almost translucent around the edges. His voice is raspy and low from disuse and his eyes nearly burned by the light of the Silmaril.
* Elwing helps him bathe and into fresh clothes before hugging him firmly. “I missed you,” she says. Then, after a pause where she can count Eärendil’s heartbeat through his too this chest, she adds. “I love you.”
* Eärendil is changed but his warmth remains, and he laughs as loud as he is able now, which is not very, at his grandchildren’s antics. Elrodel introduced her sons, twins of course, and her young daughter to Eärendil without a moment of hesitation.
* Her children know everything there is to know about their grandfather, from his great deeds as a dragon slayer to his favourite sweet (honey cakes), and they are overjoyed to meet him at last. The boys try to act grown and impress Eärendil, but they quickly join their little sister, still a toddler, in listening to his tales. Huan curls around the children and listen as attentively as them, his tail wagging.
* Elwing sits with Elrodel and smiles at the picture before her. For the first time in what feels like forever, she can say she is truly happy.
#star-daughter au#my writing#tolkien fic#tolkien#the silmarillion#elwing#eärendil#elrodel#original character#ocs#huan#finrod#bullet point fic#long post
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telling
June 23, 2023
Ethan, Dylan, Mark, Matty, Alex, Trevor, Cole, Matt, Jack, Quinn and Lucia were all sitting around the fire after a long day on the boat and in the sun.
“Hey where’s your boy Huggy? You guys are usally attachted to the hip?” Matty questioned as he looked over at her across the fire.
Mackie and Lucia have been attached since they met and it was quite odd for Mackie not to be at the lake house or for him to not even be talked about.
Lucia froze and her eyes widen but she quickly shook it off and took a deep breath and saw the worried looks from her best friends and quickly got up and quickly walked away from them and jogged up to the stairs to her room.
“What just happened?” Matty looked very confused as Lucia quickly left the second Mackie was brought up.
Ethan, Dylan and Mark shared a look.
“Don’t bring up him anymore.” Mark protectively snapped, “He’s not a friend anymore.” Mark’s words shocked the rest of the group.
“What happened?” Jack looked between the three, he was worried why his sister ran off so quickly.
“We can’t tell you what he did but he did fuck up as he hurt Lucia.” Ethan told them, he knew Lucia wouldn’t be happy if they told them what he did.
“He did what.” Quinn angrily demanded, some one hurt his baby sister and he didn’t know.
“You two should talk to her.” Dylan softly suggested looking at Jack and Quinn, he knew Lucia needed them more than she had been admitting.
Jack and Quinn shared a look and both got up and headed back inside they headed up the stairs and saw Lucia sitting on her bench at her bay window.
Quinn turned the door handle making it squeak and Lucia quickly turned seeing her two brothers standing there looking worried.
“I’m fine.” Lucia blunty replied and turned back to the window.
“You don’t have to be moose.” Quinn softly replied back sharing a look with Jack and they both walked over to her and both of them sitting on one of her sides.
“What happened with Mackie.” Jack gently questioned looking at his sister worried. Jack hated he didn’t even know something was off with his sister.
“I’ll get over it.” Lucia shook her head avoiding the question looking out the window.
“Hey.” Quinn soflty nudged her shoulder making her look at him, “We’re your brother’s moose we just want to know if you are okay.” Lucia softens at Quinn’s words and turned back away.
“He’s got a girlfriend.” Lucia told them not looking at them but she could feel their questioning looks, “We weren’t together like boyfriend and girlfriend together but we had an arrangement together and we both said we wouldn’t be with anyone else.”
Lucia shook her head letting a wry breath, “But he had a girlfriend for a while apparently while still being with me and i found out when he posted her and she knew about me.” Lucia bit her lip blinking hating how this all still makes her emotional.
“Oh Mosey.” Jack let out a sad sound and wrapped an arm around her shoulders pulling her closer, “He’s an idiot.” Jack bluntly told her making her chuckle softly.
“Did you like him?” Quinn cautiously asked looking sadly at his baby sister.
Lucia licked her lips, “I think so.” Lucia admitted, she didn’t like the fact that the first time she was starting accepting her feelings for someone she gets hurt.
Jack and Quinn shared a looked shocked as Lucia has never admitted to liking someone as this was very close to doing so.
“I’m sorry.” Quinn apologized feeling terrible she went through that especially as he knew Mackie has always been incredibly important to her so she not only lost him romantically but as her best friend as well.
Quinn mumbled another apology as he pressed a kiss to her head, he felt sad that she didn’t tell them and even worse that Jack or him didn’t notice something was wrong with their baby sister.
Lucia turned her head resting it on Quinn shoulders with Jack arms wrapped around and she felt a bit better being with brothers.
#luciahughesau#lh43#luke hughes#jack hughes#jack hughes x oc#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x oc#john marino x oc#john marino#johnny beecher#dylan duke#mark estapa#ethan edwards#rutger mcgroarty#luca fantilli x oc#adam fantilli#seamus casey#frank nazar#umich hockey#new jersey devils#nico hischier x oc#nico daws#dawson mercer#curtis lazar#jesper bratt#simon nemec#alex holtz x oc#nhl x oc#nhl au#gavin brindley
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Another random fic snippet based on a post I made ages ago, about Dream escaping Burgess's cage and accidentally teleporting straight to the Corinthian like he's got some bizarre major arcana programmed GPS.
@aisalynn helped me shape it into an actual plot idea (that's probably gonna be far more serious than the below) but for the time being please enjoy this slighty cracky little excerpt :)
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The Corinthian opened the door to leave.
Dream was standing there.
He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he immediately slammed it shut.
An instinctive reaction that, in hindsight, didn’t exactly give the impression of fearless independence the Corinthian had been going for. Quite the opposite actually. Funny how a split second could so effectively undermine one hundred years of meticulous planning. Well. He definitely needed to find a way to kill Dream now, if only to ensure a retelling of this very unfortunate situation never made its way to Lucienne’s ears. That would be unbearable. Which said nothing for the inevitably smug response of Dream himself. Urgh. The Corinthian might actually have to suffer through him gloating before being finally being destroyed.
How disgustingly underwhelming.
The Corinthian had thought there would at least be some stabbing, had wanted to see pain, raw and perfect, a tapestry of agony displayed across Dream's pretty features. Maybe some tears glimmering in his eyes. He’d thought a lot about their reunion in the last century and strangely enough ‘freak out and slam a door in Dream’s face’ hadn’t quite made the cut.
Hadn’t been on the list of possibilities at all actually.
Not only did it make no sense, but it wouldn’t even slow Dream down, let alone actually stop him. Yet staring at the dark wooden door the Corinthian had closed purely out of reflex, it somehow still seemed the best course of action.
If the Corinthian had a heart it would be pounding.
What the fuck.
How had Dream found him so quickly? It had barely been a minute since the Corinthian had felt him escape Burgess’s trap and already Dream had tracked him down? That little murder spree in Berlin must have really pissed him off. The Corinthian had no extra cues to his creators current mood; there had really only been a split second to take Dream in, a split second that, now he came to think of it, included far too much pale skin and nowhere near the expected layers of clothes. In fact, the Corinthian had no memory of any clothing whatsoever. Which was odd enough in itself, without the whole door slamming business, so he was frowning even before he heard the sound…
A single heavy thump like a body falling.
Like Dream of the Endless hitting the floor with a thud.
Which was absurd.
So much so that the Corinthian couldn’t resist; had to look, needed to do something, because it wasn’t like Dream was likely to just go away, cracking open the door to check and—
Well would you look at that.
He’d been right.
#the corinthian#dream of the endless#the sandman#fic progress#corintheus#rria writes#look this is probably very silly#and I was giggling to myself while writing
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