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songsofadelaide · 1 day

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All of your colleagues in the office knew of Satoru's long-standing crush on you. Who would have known that behind his sharp wit and debonair aura, he was actually an absolute sap of a man?

They didn't know he looked up to you so much because you bailed him out of an error-riddled document he made when he was just starting the job. It was only normal for you to do so since he was your junior, and you didn't want to get chewed out by your Department Chief.

But after that night of overtime, you were his saviour, and the last thing he wanted to do was saddle you with any more grunt work, so he worked doubly hard to submit perfect reports to you.

Even you had to admit that Satoru was a good-looking kid. He was always dressed impeccably well and smelled amazing, too. He's two years your junior but an incredibly quick learner— so much so that the Department Chief started taking notice of him, too. You wouldn't be surprised if he got promoted to team leader soon.

And though you've seen how dependable he is when it comes to work, he still can't help but act a little spoiled and babyish around you. He'd ask you to fix his tie for him, or maybe straighten out his collar. It's always your opinion he seeks out first whenever there are team discussions, as though he was showing off and asking you to back up his ideas. He had a good head on his shoulders, but he tends to forget whenever you're around.

Satoru's crush on you has been a long-time open secret at the office. You've been asked how you felt about the whole thing and you didn't really have much of a thought about it. Though it made you wonder... If he liked you that much, why hasn't he ever made a move on you for real? Then again, how would you react if that were to happen?

And that made you think. A lot.

And drink.

A lot.

After closing yet another deal at work, your Department Chief called for a night of celebration— their treat, too, and somehow your glass of beer became a bottomless well that was only pulled away from you by none other than Satoru, who saw you had way too much to drink that night because—

You didn't want to think.

But, oh, how could you not? Your adorable junior held you to his chest as he gently wrestled the half-empty beer glass out of your hands— wait, adorable? Satoru was six feet of coolness, for the lack of a better word. Surely you aren't talking about that Satoru—

"Senpai, you're drunk."

His voice echoed in your ear, but you couldn't hear anything from the sound of his heartbeat against your cheek. He sounded far too calm for someone whose heart was in hysterics. The sound soothed you so much that you were already half-asleep in his arms while the rest of your team noisily and happily drank their fill in the brightly lit izakaya.

You were awoken by the sound of your Department Chief's farewell spiel for the week. It was a Friday night and tomorrow was a day-off so everyone had the luxury of nursing their hangovers for as long as they could the morning after. You could only faintly hear their words of thanks, followed by "it's about time we wrapped up" and "we'll leave the team leader to you, Gojo-kun".

"Mmnngh..."

You felt Satoru's chest tremble, closely followed by a soft chuckle. "Senpai, stop grumbling. Bucho-san said thanks for your efforts. We're going home now."

How you got home was a mystery, because you remember walking half-asleep in your junior's arms and falling into an even deeper sleep on the cab ride home. He nearly carried you to your bed, but not without laying you down with the gentleness of a mother setting her child to sleep. Somehow your bed smelled just like him...

He was about to turn away from you when you pulled him by his necktie. Surely you can reward him a bit... "Gojo-kun, you like me, don't you?"

Oh, who am I kidding? At this point, you already overthought and confirmed that you liked him back. "I like you, too, so..."

"...Senpai? You're drunk, s-so don't—" He was back to his babyish way again, but he was obviously just taken aback by your sudden boldness. You pulled him down until you were caged in his arms, his rigid torso looming over you, his kind yet confused blue eyes drinking in your features like he hadn't had enough earlier that night.

"I'll sleep with you, but only if you consider this a dream."

"You mean to say...?"

Satoru sounded like he was considering things.

"Forget about everything when you wake up."

Imagine your embarrassment the following morning when you discovered you weren't at your place but at Satoru's apartment instead. You were confident he'd leave quietly after last night but that wasn't the case since it was you who stayed over. Forget about everything when you wake up. Tough luck. And stupid of me to even—

You were still fully clothed. And Satoru was nowhere to be found on his bed.

"Are you awake, senpai? I laid out a change of clothes for you and made breakfast for us, so come out when you're ready!"

For all your big talk last night, you were incredibly ashamed by the whole ordeal. It was embarrassing enough that he had to witness such an uncool side of you, but even more so now that you were imposing on the young man's kindness. Still, you decided to change into a fresh shirt that smelled just like him and face the music.

There he was, setting his dinner table with an elated smile that grew even wider when he saw you in his shirt. "Good morning, senpai! I hope you don't mind sandwiches for breakfast. I don't usually eat rice in the morning..."

He sat you down across from him and laid a plate of what looked like a club sandwich, the bread lightly toasted and the greens still moist from washing.

"Gojo-kun—"

"Before anything else, there's something I have to tell you... About last night, senpai... You said you liked me too. And all night I felt terrible because I never even got around to confessing to you and you beat me to it," Satoru stated, but not before concluding with a small sigh of defeat. "Then again, you were drunk last night, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was just your alcohol-fueled—"

"Don't say that, Gojo-kun! I-I meant what I said, s-so please don't just dismiss them as drunk ramblings," you said in surprise, raising your hands in defence as you reasoned with him. He reached out for your hands from across the table, and you could have sworn you felt him slightly trembling. In... In nervousness? If that were the case, he really does a good job of not showing it at all.

"I like you, senpai," he said with his normal, straightforward coolness that seemed to have everyone at work hooked onto him. Though his gaze seemed to soften as he looked away from you sheepishly, his babyish side rearing its head this time. "And if... if that offer of yours from last night still stands... At least don't tell me to forget about it."

I suppose I like both of them. Both his cool and his cute side, you thought to yourself. You won't be forgetting that Saturday morning anytime soon. And neither would he.

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#mari's prompts 🎠#jujutsu kaisen #jjk au #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #things i can't stop thinking abt lol #this is mari's gojo satoru shoujo leading man agenda #starry divider by @/cafekitsune

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penkura · 3 days

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knowing [7/8]

Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.

Note: The end is near!! Wano my beloved, I love Sanji in Wano sm. Another shorter one, compared to six and eight, but we're in the home stretch!! Next chapter is the finale and I hope it will be worth it!

Taglist:

@jzkeisuke | @arcanumlaw

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

Your arrival in Wano started with all of you separated from Luffy, navigating your way through a forested area, hoping to find a town. Sanji kept a hold of your hand the whole time, refusing to let you wander off or get left behind somehow. Of course you weren't like Zoro with your sense of direction, Sanji just wanted to be sure you didn't get separated from the group (mostly from him).

Once you did find Luffy, Kin'emon got you all up to speed on what they had been doing. You were to help recruit more Samurai and ninja for the raid on Onigashima in about two weeks. You'd have to take on a role in the city to keep a low profile, while passing out the cards with the insignia that Kin'emon had put together. He provided disguises with his technique, Nami's being a lot more showy than she liked so she had to adjust it, but you were quick to try and reject whatever he tried to dress you in.

"No no, I think I'm fine with what I'm wearing. I'm a kunoichi already."

"While yes you are, it would be better if you could take on another role for the time being!"

"Then she'll stay with me!" Sanji nodded, putting his arms around your shoulders, Franky and Usopp both still confused since you hadn't had the chance to tell them yet, "We could pretend we're married and running a stall together!"

"Hey Sanji," Usopp was a bit concerned, but did take note of how you didn't push Sanji off or anything, "Maybe she wants to go help Nami or we could see if she can help Franky get the mansion plans. There's no need for you guys to pretend you're a couple!"

"We won't be pretending we're a couple! Just that we're married! We're already together so it doesn't matter!"

"...wait what?"

Realizing what he said, Sanji blushed a bit before hiding his face in your shoulder, making you pat him on his head. You found it funny how he seemed to become so shy about it, maybe because you two hadn't gotten to actually sit and tell Usopp and Franky.

"Poor, poor boyfriend. I don't mind pretending we're married and helping Sanji."

"B…boyfriend?!"

"Yes, Sanji and I are dating."

Franky and Usopp both shouted at you, asking when that happened and being surprised when you said it'd been about two years. Telling you it was 'super' you were together, Franky started crying while Usopp couldn't believe how you kept such a secret for so long, asking who else knew.

"Everyone. You guys were the last two we had to tell."

"Whaaaat??"

+!+

After everything had been settled and you allowed Kin'emon to give you a disguise that let you blend in like a regular Wano housewife, you helped Sanji and Usopp figure out what kind of food stall Sanji would run. The lone soba stand caught your attention, and you noticed Sanji was watching them carefully, which caused you to say his name and get him out of his thoughts. He'd been watching closely after a young girl and her mother had gone up and gotten bowls themselves.

"Hey, do me a favor. Go get in line and get a bowl of that soba."

"Uh, ok, babe, I can do that."

You stood in line for a while, Sanji and Usopp off to the side talking while you waited, until the stand owners stopped taking orders just before you got up to the front. When you went back over to them, you latched back onto Sanji's arm and apologized that you couldn't get a bowl but he gave you a smile.

"Nah, don't worry. I got the information I needed, thank you."

Confused, you still smiled back and nodded, the three of you returning to where you'd be staying during your time in Wano. You'd all had dinner, thanks to Sanji of course, before turning in for the night, and you absolutely refused to go with anyone but Sanji. Might as well really play the part of husband and wife, was your excuse when Nami said you should go with her, Shinobu, and Carrot. She rolled her eyes at you and just said not to go making any babies or anything, causing you to turn bright, bright red and threaten to revoke her honorary kunoichi status while she laughed at you.

"You could've gone with the girls, it would've been fine."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around Sanji while he did the same to you, pulling you even closer to himself.

"I'd much rather stay with you~"

His turned bright red, no matter how many times you share a bed, it still made Sanji so nervous. He still didn’t believe that you were real, that you loved him and wanted him, he’d never had anyone return his feelings and affections before you. Maybe it was crazy, to think so much about marrying you already, when you were technically his first and only girlfriend, but it seemed like you had the same thoughts, especially after the whole fiasco with his family and the Big Mom pirates.

He didn’t want to ever put you through emotional distress like that again.

“Hey, uh—”

Sanji tried to say something, but instead, he heard you snoring already, very lightly. It made him breathe in relief, with a smile on his face. You really helped him out that day with getting his soba stand ready, you must’ve been so wiped out.

“Sleep well, mon amour.”

I’ll ask you another day.

+!+

With the raid on Onigashima just days away, you and Sanji had found less time to spend with each other during waking hours. You’ve all moved elsewhere to prepare for the raid, Kin’emon and the other Samurai helping you where they could as they prepared too. Shinobu and Raizo had taken a liking to you since you were a kunoichi yourself, both being surprised but impressed to hear you were from an offshoot of Wano, asking how the village was doing and making plans to go there once Wano’s borders were opened.

Two nights before the raid, Sanji finally worked out some time for the two of you to spend and relax, he made a dinner for just the two of you, that Luffy tried multiple times to sneak a bite from until Nami pulled him away and gave him the dinner Sanji made for all of them. The last time Nami had to drag him away made you laugh, while Sanji just rolled his eyes.

“Bottomless pit, that’s what he is.”

“We’ve known that for two years now.”

You giggled, leaning into Sanji’s arm with your head on his shoulder, causing him to kiss the top of your head before you sighed happily.

“I’m glad to have this time with you…everything’s going to be insane day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah…but it’ll be okay. We’ll free this place and then be on our way again.”

“I know, it’s just…getting there is going to be a lot.”

Sanji knew you were probably worried about him, honestly about everyone, but he was the only one you were expressing those worries to. He wanted you to be relaxed and to know that everything would be perfectly fine. Robin had talked to him about how you were seeming more worried as time went on, as the raid got closer, and he got an idea of how to maybe calm you down, but it might also make you even more worried, he wasn’t sure of what to do.

Do I ask her now…? Is this a weird time to propose?

Before he even had a chance to say anything, the two of you were being called by Usopp for something about the raid, making you sigh with a slightly sad smile on your face before looking at Sanji.

“Duty calls. But,” you stopped and kissed him before getting up to go see what was going on, both of you smiling after, “This was lovely, Sanji, you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“Stop, I’m just taking care of my beautiful girlfriend…we’ll do this again, okay?”

“Of course. I love you, Sanji~”

“I love you too, my dear.”

Later. I’ll ask her later, once everything is settled here.

+!+

"No I…I didn't do anything!"

"You're the only one who could have!"

The geishas threw things at Sanji to get him out of the room, it barely phased him as he did so, wondering what on earth just happened. He had no idea! He'd been running off from Queen and the other Animal Pirates to get his thoughts in order over the oddities he'd noticed about himself recently, so lost in thought he didn't have any clue what caused this one geisha to go flying.

Though, his greatest fear now was that he had caused her to become hurt. Maybe it really was the only thing that made sense. Was he losing himself to that Germa science raid suit?

"Let me see that Germa science, Judge's son!"

Queen kept up his attempts to rile Sanji in order to see the raid suit technology, which Sanji kept denying. This time he was still so lost in thought, wondering what you, over anyone else, would have thought seeing what just happened.

Or worse…what if I hurt [Y/N] next time?

If he hurt you because of those genetic abilities, Sanji would never forgive himself. He'd never forgive his father or Germa for anything anyway, but should their science cause him to harm the most important person in his life, all that blame would fall on his own shoulders. He'd only meant to test the raid suit, not become dependent upon it or let it awaken the monstrous abilities his brothers had from the start. He never thought that would be possible after Reiju explained why he was so different from the rest of them.

Tell me, Luffy….which would you prefer? The regular flesh-and-blood me who turns into a helpless wreck when facing a woman, or a cruel emotionless warrior of science who can kill without discrimination if you give the order? Which of these would be more useful to you, as king of the pirates?

Despite his thoughts wondering if Luffy would somehow be better served by Germa's science, Sanji's thoughts also drifted to you as he retrieved the raid suit from his pocket. Which version would you prefer? Someone willing to kill anyone without qualms if so directed, or would you still prefer the emotional mess of a man that doted on you and had your respect for sticking to his principles of not fighting a woman?

"I've made up my mind."

"Ooh," Queen's excitement over seeing the raid suit was quite obvious, "is that your raid suit?!"

"I have to assume that this thing caused the science already in my body to awaken and activate somehow," Sanji dropped the raid suit to the ground, lifting his foot while Queen watched him stomp on the canister, "Well, I can't do anything about that! But I can say no more! I won't become a Germa soldier!"

"Aww what a waste!! I wanted to see you transform!"

Pulling out a baby transponder snail, calling Zoro and letting him argue with him briefly about his reasoning for slipping it into his band, Sanji hated making such a request of Zoro of all people.

"We're gonna win this but…after the finisher if I'm not…in my right mind, I need you to kill me."

"All right, fine! I'll kill you after this is over, whatever that means!"

"And I…need you to tell [Y/N]--"

"I'm not saying anything sappy!"

There was no time to argue or fight, so Sanji just nodded. He figured it'd be a long shot anyway.

"At least I'll have something to look forward to after this. So don't die until then!"

"Thanks."

"Hey," they were short on time, but Zoro decided he'd say one more thing, "I'll tell her."

"Appreciate it."

+!+

"Oh my gosh, Sanji, what happened?!"

You had finished helping Usopp and Nami get Otama somewhere safe, and returned back into the castle to search for anyone else that needed help or to find the rest of your comrades. After finding most everyone, though you had no idea where Zoro was really and knew Luffy was on the roof, you ended up finding a room with some geishas who were tending to Sanji's injuries. You were instantly on your knees beside him asking the geisha girl next to him what happened.

"He…he fought and defeated Master Queen!! He protected me after we accused him of attacking me!"

You might have to ask him about that last bit later, but you were so relieved to hear Sanji was all right, he was just injured but was being treated by the geishas.

Of course you protected her, you sweet man..

Leaning over, you gently kissed his forehead which surprised the geisha girl, Osome, you'd later learn.

"You're so amazing. I love you, Sanji."

"O-Oh, are you two…?"

You smiled at Osome with a nod. "Yes! He's the love of my life! Thank you for taking care of him!"

"I-It's the least I could do after he saved Chuji!"

The little mouse squeaked and made you smile softly. Osome explained everything to you, while you stayed by Sanji for the moment, brushing his hair back out of his face and holding his hand. After you heard the whole story, knowing Sanji wasn't at fault for Osome being hurt and that he'd beaten Queen, you stood up when you heard some shouting about the fire.

"Can you stay with him for me? I'm going to go help some others!"

"Y-Yes!"

"Thank you!"

You ran out of the room, promising yourself and Sanji that you two would get some time alone again soon, and you'd tell him how proud you were of him.

Soon, I swear.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #knowing fanfic #fem!reader #black leg sanji x reader

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myguardianangel-ina-trenchcoat · 2 days

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Allow me a moment to rant (positively) about the subject of my pfp.

Castiel, an actual angel of the lord, rescues Dean from literal hell because Heaven has deemed him too important in the race to stop the apocalypse.

Tell me why, this ungrateful lil shit (I adore Dean but lbr, from Cas' POV, the man aint exactly singing his praises at least in the first half of the season) somehow fascinates this LITERAL ANGEL who has been around for millenia and seen billions of humans come and go.

Yet somehow, he is as fascinated by this one feisty human as a woman is by a piece of cheese (IYKYK) to the point he will kill his own brothers for this man. He will stay on earth, a place he doesn't actually like, just to help this man fight evil. FOR 12 YEARS.

Comprehending this ancient being somehow turning into the Winchesters pet and FALLING IN LOVE WITH DEAN. LIKE!!!? He has gone MILLENIA without feeling anything more than a passing curiosity at humankind and yet. This one man. Just one man whose lifespan would be a mere blink of the eye to angels. Quite literally changed him.

His kind despise humans, viewing them as we view cockroaches. Simply irritating vermin.

His family fucking disowned him. HEAVEN disowned him. FOR ONE HUMAN.

The fuck is he gonna do when this one human dies?? (The finale isn't real, Dean is still alive and well at the beach with Sam and Cas)

#when i said this was a rant #i wasnt kidding #though even I didn't think it'd be quite this rambly #if you've made it this far here's a gold star #genuinley doubt this'll make it out of the void lmao #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #i promise I adore Dean

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oohnotvery · 1 day

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Hand To Your Heart (Chapter 2)

Okay, wow wow wow. Thank you all so much for the flood of support for this story! I now have imposter syndrome and am extremely nervous that I won’t do it justice . . . but here we go anyways.

Please enjoy this extremely long, dialogue-heavy chapter!

tagging @today-in-fic

Five Weeks Earlier

Scully

The basement office is so hot, her makeup is melting. Scully has already shed her nylons and suit jacket and wishes there were more she could remove without treating Mulder to a daytime strip show. Over at his desk, the man in question has rolled up his sleeves and yanked down his tie so it dangles askew around his neck. Even from across the room, she can see the sweat beading on his forehead.

She shifts uncomfortably and lifts her hair to fan the back of her neck, wondering when maintenance will be down to fix the broken air conditioning. Every few minutes, she glances up at the basement skylight, the brutal sun somehow scorching even at the bottom of the earth. She imagines what Mulder would think if she climbed on top of her desk to tape up the window. Since when does the temperature hit 100 degrees in May?

A trickle of sweat slides down her spine and she shudders in disgust. She’s eyeing the skylight for a fourth time when a pencil flies violently across the room, striking one of the filing cabinets. She jumps, turning to glare at Mulder.

He rises to standing and wipes grouchily at his sweaty brow.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says with a tilt of his head towards the door.

“Where?” she asks with a half-laugh. It’s not even one o’clock. They never cut out this early, not unless they have a flight to catch or monsters to chase.

“To a restaurant, back to our apartments, a movie theater, literally anywhere that has functioning AC,” he says irritably.

She hesitates for just a beat before peeling herself off her chair and grabbing her bag. A triumphant smile flickers across Mulder’s face and she rolls her eyes good-naturedly as she brushes by him towards the door. Over the years, they’ve reached an unspoken agreement about not using the elevator when they’re trying to sneak out of the building unnoticed. The onset of heatstroke has her feeling particularly grouchy about the possibility of seeing other human beings today, so she heads towards the perpetually vacant stair well, Mulder on her heels.

She swings open the door and startles backwards into Mulder’s chest when she sees a man trotting down the stairs towards them. Mulder pushes in front of her to assess the hold-up.

“Hey, Mulder,” comes a familiar voice. As Scully sidesteps her partner, Special Agent Mike Stephens comes into view. His eyes flit to hers and a wide smile rises to his lips.

“Dana,” he says eagerly, stepping forward as if he’s about to hug her. Her spine stiffens reflexively and Mike takes a step back.

“Agent Stephens,” she says with a polite smile.

“You cutting out early, Mike?” Mulder asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Agent Stephens laughs easily and shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment, actually. You two headed out on a case?”

Mulder’s eyes catch hers and they nod in unison. “Yep. Just got the call.”

Placing a palm to her lower back, Mulder starts to usher them down the stairs towards the parking garage, but Mike catches her wrist and she jolts to a halt.

His eyes flicker quickly to Mulder’s before landing on her face. “You’ll call me?” he says. “About . . . the thing?”

Instinctively, her eyes flit to Mulder, who is watching her with an inscrutable expression.

With flaming cheeks, she shakes her head. “You’ll have to excuse us, Agent Stephens,” she says brusquely, catching Mulder’s arm and tugging him down the stairs with her. She barely registers the flash of disappointment on Mike’s face.

In the parking garage, she and Mulder argue briefly over their next move—she’s envisioning a cool, dark movie theater; he wants food and a cold drink. When he finally suggests a place near the river that serves salads and margaritas alongside his mainstays of hamburgers and French fries, she concedes.

She’s nearly finished with her first margarita by the time she finally starts to cool down. They’re seated at an indoor/outdoor patio and the breeze off the river, combined with the AC pumping inside the restaurant, feels like heaven on her hot cheeks.

Scanning the river for boaters, she swipes at Mulder’s basket of fries for the fifth time and ignores his warning look.

“Stop ordering salads if you’re just going to eat my food,” he grumbles, reaching over to toss a crouton in her face.

She wrinkles her nose, munching happily around his fry. “Calories don’t count when it’s not your food,” she preaches.

He rolls his eyes and stabs a finger at her salad. “You dug your own grave, Dana Scully, now lie in it.”

The little sister in her wants to stick her tongue out, but she resists the urge, settling instead for a dark glare and a petulant stab at her lettuce.

“So,” Mulder says after a time, leaning back and stretching his arm over the back of his chair, “what thing did Mike want you to call him about?”

She crinkles her nose and squints up at the sun like she isn’t sure what he’s talking about. “Agent Stephens?” she asks casually.

Mulder’s lips twitch at her uneasy deflection and her stomach twists. He’s a profiler, for God’s sake. She can’t hide anything from him.

“Give it up, Scully,” he prods, a wicked gleam rising in his eyes. “There’s a dirty little secret between you and Mike Stephens, and I’m going to get it out of you.”

Her eyebrows rise in challenge. “Is that so? What are you, some kind of FBI agent?”

He scowls. “Har, har. Have your fun now, because in five minutes, I guarantee you’ll be sharing all your mysteries with me.”

She pretends to consider this, swirling a finger in her drink. “And what kind of interrogation techniques should I expect from you, Agent . . . ?” she asks teasingly, smiling to herself.

But she should know by now that he gives as good as he gets. Mulder leans forward, a wolfish grin rising to his pouty lips. “You know, Scully, if you wanted me to tie you up and flog you ‘til you’re begging for mercy, you could always just ask.” He winks and she flushes ten shades of red.

Needing a distraction, she again reaches for his fries, but he slaps her hand away. Indignant, her mouth falls open.

“No, no, no,” he taunts with a wagging finger, “no fries for you until you spill.”

She groans. “Oh, come on, Mulder, it’s nothing.”

“The fact that you refuse to tell me means it’s not nothing.”

“It’s nothing,” she doubles down, praying to God that Mulder doesn’t actually try to wrestle this out of her. She can feel her cheeks darkening just imagining what he’ll think if he finds out what Mike wants.

There’s a short pause where Mulder takes a long swig of his margarita, then he leans across the table and fixes her with attentive eyes. He pops the drink’s swizzle stick into his mouth and swirls it around with his tongue, and her flush deepens. Goddammit, that tongue.

His eyes widen gleefully. “Dana Katherine Scully,” he says incredulously, “are you actually blushing?”

Her eyes narrow. “Drop it,” she warns.

He leans even closer, chewing temptingly on the stick. “Come on,” he says, seeming to consider something. “If you tell me what Mike wants from you, I’ll do all our requisition paperwork for the next month.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Backing down from your hardball interrogation scheme so quickly, Agent Mulder?” she taunts.

He smiles deviously. “I’ve got handcuffs in the back of my car with your name on them, Agent Scully.”

She rolls her eyes. “Technically, Mulder, since you’re the one in charge of requisitioning our vehicles, you should always be doing that paperwork—”

“And I’ll do the expense reports,” he adds with a smirk.

Now that is tempting. She spends hours of her time filling out their damned expense reports, trying to make excuses for the ridiculous things Mulder tries to get the government to cover. But is it tempting enough to risk the humiliation that will surely follow her disclosure?

Clearing her throat, she fixes him with a no-nonsense stare. “You cannot tell anyone.”

He scoffs. “Who the hell would I tell? The fish?”

She licks her lips and leans closer, their fingertips touching across the table. “Please just—please keep this private.”

He nods solemnly, and she knows he will.

Shifting nervously, she drums her fingers against the table. “Do you remember when Agent Stephens and I worked that emergency call a few days ago with the drug enforcement team? The night Skinner made you fly to Huntsville for that hearing?”

Another nod.

“We—well, the team went out to breakfast the next morning. We’d been up all night, and we were able to successfully subdue the perpetrators—”

Mulder makes an impatient gesture with his hands. “Yeah, yeah. Get to the juicy stuff already.”

She glares at him. “Well, at breakfast, Agent Stephens was friendly with me.”

She can tell Mulder is fighting back a smile and it irks her. “Go on,” he says.

“He, uh, he showed me a lot of . . . attention.”

“That’s it, Scully,” he says, rubbing his palms together eagerly. “Now we’re getting to the good stuff.” She kicks his shin under the table and he shoots her a wounded look.

“Anyways,” she continues primly, “it wasn’t necessarily unwelcome attention. He’s attractive and smart, and we worked well together that night.”

There’s a minute change in Mulder’s expression, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of moment, but still he nods. “All fair points.”

She studies her partner quietly, trying to break through the now-neutral expression on his face. What is he thinking? What will he think? She drops her gaze to her drink.

“And that’s all, really,” she says with a shrug.

Mulder’s finger comes into her vision when he taps at her wrist. “That’s not all, Scully,” he says. “What did he want? Please tell me it was something freaky or extremely embarrassing.” When she doesn’t respond, he huffs. “Hell, just tell me, Scully. You know my mind is already beginning to conjure far more indecent scenarios than what’s actually going on.”

“Your mind is a shocking place,” she murmurs, deflecting.

“Tell me.”

She lifts her eyes to his and is surprised to find genuine curiosity reflected at her. He isn’t just looking for an entertaining story. He wants to know about her life.

She hesitates briefly, then shakes her head in defeat. “Agent Stephens asked if I wanted to have a relationship with him.”

He chuckles and flexes his fingers. “He asked you to go steady? Wow, you really worked me up for nothing, Scully, damn.”

She bites her lip. “No, he didn’t want to date me,” she corrects. “He asked if I’d be amenable to a . . . casual relationship.”

Mulder cocks his head in confusion.

She huffs aggravatedly. “Sex,” she adds, refusing to drop her gaze even as her cheeks burn. “He asked if I’d be interested in having casual, no-strings-attached sex with him on a regular basis.”

Mulder’s mouth drops open and the swizzle stick falls from his lips. She rolls her eyes heavily and takes a long swig of her drink.

“See, Mulder?” she says, stabbing a finger at his gaping mouth. “You’re already acting like a teenage boy.”

“He wanted to be friends with benefits, Scully?” Mulder’s eyebrows rise. “Go, Mike Stephens, go.”

“Really, Mulder?”

He waggles his eyebrows mischievously. “I dunno, that sounds pretty hot.”

“Well, I told him I’d think about it,” she replies archly, even though it’s not entirely true.

His eyes narrow. “You didn’t tell him no?”

“That’s what he was trying to ask me on the stairs—whether or not I wanted to pursue that type of relationship with him.”

Mulder studies her for a long minute, then reclines back in his chair, nodding thoughtfully. She waits for him to ask more questions, or perhaps tease her, but he simply fades into silence. Their waiter returns and they each order another drink. When their second round appears, Mulder downs half of his beer in one long gulp, then reaches out to tap at her wrist.

“Is that something you’d consider?” he asks.

She tilts her head, debating whether to continue picking at her wilting lettuce. “Hmm?”

“Being friends with benefits?”

Her eyes snap up to his. “Not with him,” she says dismissively, because it’s really no question. “I barely know him. We aren’t even friends, technically.”

“But if there was a friend?” Mulder asks, drumming his fingers lightly against her skin.

She shrugs. “Possibly? I haven’t thought about it much. It’s not unappealing, I suppose. I could see how it might be nice if one didn’t want to be in a committed relationship.” She takes a sip of her drink and winces at its sourness. This one is definitely stronger than the last round.

“It’s hard to date in our profession,” Mulder observes.

She nods, skimming the rim of her drink with a finger to collect the salt. “It can be.”

“It’s lonely.”

“Hmm?” she asks distractedly, sucking salt off her thumb. “Yeah, that’s what Agent Stephens said too.”

“Oh, did he,” Mulder remarks.

She slides her finger along the rim of her glass for another lick of salt but Mulder bats her hand away. Affronted, she glares at him.

“Stop doing that,” he mutters, “it’s distracting.”

She narrows her eyes. “Distracting from what? We’re not exactly having a serious conversation here, Mulder.”

He rankles. “It is serious, though. You’re debating getting your jollies off with Mike Stephens, a person you hardly know.”

Her eyebrows rise. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ve made it quite clear that I will not accept his offer.”

“You won’t because it’s Mike Stephens making the offer?” he clarifies, his eyes darting between hers. “Because you don’t know him well, right? Or trust him.” He hesitates. “But you do acknowledge that our jobs are stressful and isolating, and you aren’t opposed to the idea of such an arrangement.”

She sucks in a breath and blows it out steadily. “I—I don’t know? Mulder, do you want me to call him right now and get it over with already?”

He grins, showing his teeth. “I can’t say it wouldn’t be fun to bear witness to his crushing disappointment upon learning that he won’t be getting the Agent Scully in his bed.”

She reaches across the table and flings a fry in his face.

Mulder ducks, then leans back in his chair and crosses his arms behind his head. She’s gazing out towards the river, debating whether or not she should order a third drink, when his voice breaks her concentration.

“We could do it.”

It’s so casual, she almost misses it.

“What?” she asks, her eyes turning back to his.

He gestures between them. “You and me. Friends with benefits.”

This time, it’s her jaw that drops. He leans forward again, all his earlier jesting gone, replaced now with a restless energy that makes her squirm in her seat.

“Oh, come on, Scully. Don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind.”

Her eyebrows fly to her hairline. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t act like some pearl-clutching virgin. I’m a good-looking guy, you’re a good-looking gal. You’ve acknowledged that our jobs don’t allow us to date, not in any meaningful way. Neither of us is having regular sex—”

“Mulder,” she hisses.

He ignores her. “Plus, you know me better than Mike Stephens, and you considered doing it with him.”

“I did not consider doing it with him,” she snaps.

His eyes fix her in place. “You said it could be a possibility.”

She gapes, then slowly shakes her head. “Mulder, this is so far beyond the bounds of professionalism—”

He slams his fist onto the table and she jumps, her margarita spilling out over the sides. “Professionalism, Scully? Really? You’re going to fly that flag right now?” He shakes his head, scowling. She finds herself extremely confused by his sudden irritability.

“Are you messing with me, Mulder?” she asks carefully, taking a napkin to the sides of her drink.

He is quiet for a long minute, his eyes fixated on her clean-up efforts. She’s about to ask him again when he finally looks up at her.

“I’m dead serious, Scully,” he says. “If you wanted to try an arrangement like that, do it with me, not with Mike Stephens. At least I’m someone you actually know, and presumably like.”

“But it wasn’t ever my idea—”

“Is it a bad idea?” he counters.

She sputters out a disbelieving laugh. “It’s a—it’s the worst idea—”

“Mike Stephens is the worst idea—”

“Stop making this about Agent Stephens, Mulder!” she shouts, and Mulder’s face falls. She gives him a long, hard look. “Just—just give me a moment to think.”

He nods and her mind instantly flashes to a hundred different images, things she’s fantasized about for years but has never allowed herself to imagine as real possibilities. His strong, masculine hands sliding across her bare skin, his lips dragging wetly down her neck, his toned, lean abdomen rippling as he picks her up and throws her onto the bed. She sees herself lying before him, pale and naked and flushed, as he presses kisses from her forehead to her toes. She imagines clutching his tanned, muscular forearms as she comes with his fingers inside her—

“Are you picturing me naked, Scully?” Mulder asks coyly, and she curses under her breath as a flush races down her neck and chest.

“No,” she mutters angrily, but his eyes are gleaming and she knows she’s lost this battle. He sees right through her; he always has. As tempting as this arrangement is, his ability to read her like a book is what makes it so dangerous. What happens when he figures out she’s in love with him? What happens when sex stops being gratifying for her, and she decides she needs more from him?

“This could break us, Mulder,” she says weakly as his eyes rake over her own body. God, is he picturing her naked? “Before we get impulsive, we should pause to consider how this could compromise our working relationship.”

“Is it really that impulsive?”

She blinks, stupefied. “Given that this is the first time we’ve ever thought about it—”

“I’ve thought about it dozens of times,” he breathes, fixing her with a hungry look. “Hell, hundreds of times, probably.”

She swallows. “You’ve thought about . . . us?”

“You’re gorgeous, Scully,” he says, his eyes turning briefly warm. “I may be a madman, but I’m not so cracked that I haven’t noticed how beautiful you are.”

She shuts her eyes and her brain immediately bombards her with an image—Mulder in a shitty, dirty, nameless motel room, his fist wrapped tightly around his cock, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he comes with her name on his lips.

“And it’s just sex,” he says, breaking her concentration. Her eyes flutter open. “It’s just body parts moving around. I’m not asking you to marry me or even date me.” He flashes a wide grin. “I’m not that crazy.”

“Yes, you are,” she mumbles under her breath, lifting her drink and finding that her hands are trembling.

Mulder seems to notice too because he reaches forward and catches her wrist, setting her drink down before pulling her hand into his.

“Try it with me, Scully,” he murmurs enticingly, his eyes slightly feral. “See if we like it.”

“I haven’t said yes—”

“But you’re thinking about it,” he says, his fingertip sliding up her arm, drawing goosebumps in its path.

“No, I’m not,” she lies.

He smiles knowingly. “Your body says otherwise.”

Her eyes flutter up to his as warmth begins to pool treacherously in her core. This cannot be happening. Fox Mulder cannot seriously be asking her to sleep with him. It’s too—it’s too—

“Scully?” he prods gently, and behind the hunger in his gaze, she sees affection. Warmth. Tenderness.

Jesus Christ. He really does want this.

When she speaks, her voice is shaky, but firm.

“We might hurt each other,” she whispers, her final protest.

He frowns, squeezing her fingers. “Never, Scully. I would never hurt you.”

“You can’t promise—” She swallows. Her veins pound with arousal, excitement. Adrenaline starts to shut down the rational side of her brain.

“Okay,” she finally says, looking down at their joined hands.

His lips curl into a satisfied smile and he pushes his basket of fries towards her. “Good girl. Now eat your fries.”

#mulder x scully #x files #dana scully #the x files #txf #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #fox mulder #msr #xfiles fanfic #fox mulder my beloved #enjoy your fries Scully

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15-lizards · 2 days

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Friend was making me watch dance moms and I was relieving my ballerina days so here’s an ASOIAF dance studio AU for the soul

-Sansa is definitely one of the best at her studio she is the Lyrical queeennnn. One of the few competition dance girls who trains in ballet and is actually good at it. She doesn’t have insane flexibility but her technique is peak and she’s great at turn sequences. Always very consistent and stable. Gets mad when they have hip hop pieces cause she’s not good at it. Likes recitals more than competitions because she can do ballet more, tends to like the French style. Hair always sprayed and smoothed into a perfect bun even if she’s just going to class, not a single flyaway to be seen. Keeps a neat dance bag that she keeps her entire life in.

-Arya is only in there because Cat thought it would be cute to have the girls dance together. Immediately got proven wrong but she already paid for the full year so. DESPISES the slow ballet and contemporary pieces. Is a fucking prodigal jumper she can do switch leaps, ariels, toe touches, literally anything. Which means she likes the upbeat jazz and hip hop numbers wayyy more. Never has a neat bun it’s a miracle it can be tamed when she goes on stage. All of her tights have runs and rips up the sides. Stains on her leotard. Brings a Gatorade to class instead of a water and gets yelled at for it. Hides in the bathroom during ballet class.

-Dany has pretty good technique, nothing standout, but makes up for everything with her energy and facials. She’s got definite potential, but is unrefined. Pretty muscular and short because she used to do gymnastics. Really likes to try anything. Ballet, lyrical, jazz, contemporary, acro, hip hop, truly everything. Consistently places third in competitions, which pisses everyone else off because they think her technique isn’t very strong, and pisses her off because she wants to place first for once. Is currently working her ass off at the barre to focus on her basic technique, is improving at a rapid pace. Dance bag smells like actual ass, you can find probably anything in there though. Doesn’t wear any padding in her pointe shoes bc she’s kind of a psychopath.

-Marg is the top girl 100% she’s the teachers favorite. Every lead role and center position is hers. Sansa’s biggest competition but they’re such good friends and so nice to each other neither of them really cares. Focuses mostly on a slower Russian style of ballet, perfect for her long legs and arms. Every move is just so intentional and perfectly placed, she flows so well from step to step. Definitely is getting countless offers from academies, professional companies, and summer programs. Alwaysss has the cutest most expensive leotards and skirts. Makes sure to pull some of her curls out of her bun to frame her face. Makeup on during class that she somehow never sweats off. Usually super sweet but tends to be passive aggressive to other studios at competitions.

-Cersei who runs the rival studio, used to be a famous competition dancer, excelled at lyrical and contemporary. Makes all of her dancers take rigorous ballet, even if they’re just competition dancers, super adamant ab ballet as the basis for everything else. Notoriously insane with a hair trigger temper, but parents keep paying out the ass for her to train their kids because she produces results. Probably throws things if you fall out of a turn. Makes kids do pushups if they miss a step. Coddles Joff, Myrcella, and Tommen though, makes sure they always get good spots and roles. Jamie’s there to teach partnering sometimes but he always looks miserable and smells like cigarettes.

-Joffery is one of those insufferable tweens who gets special attention bc he’s a guy, a rare species in the dance world. But what’s even more infuriating is that he’s really good. Great flexibility, and focuses on big jumps and turns like most male ballet dancers do. Genuinely an enrapturing performer but never has any patience for his pas de deux partners, blames it on her if she gets dropped. A mean gay but no one’s really sure if he’s gay or not. Has a posse of tween girls that make fun of everyone not in their clique. Makes snide comments at the barre. Ridiculously cocky even when he falls out of his turns. Barges into the girls dressing room without asking. Demon child.

Bonus: Robb who has to take it because the football team needs to work on their balance or whatever. Really enjoys it actually and will defend it when Theon calls it gay. But don’t ask Theon why he kept staring every time Robb started stretching at the barre

#asoiaf #asoiaf shitposting #these are all just based off me and people I used to dance with #projecting hard this evening

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purinfelix · 3 days

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white ferrari ˚⟡˖ ࣪

pairing: joao felix x reader summary: you don’t really know how to respond when a familiar face shows up at your apartment doorstep, one you haven’t seen in almost half a year since a fated summer of both love and heartbreak. warnings: just a lot of angst <//3 w/c: 2.7k

a/n: okay i tried my hand at angst once more because I've been feeling unreasonably sad about joao leaving barca ... (this is all inspired by a singular white ferrari x joao edit i saw on tiktok) - hope you all enjoy!!

Get home, throw your keys onto the counter top and listen to the echo they make throughout your empty apartment. Kick your shoes off, undress, shower and then stare at yourself in the mirror for a little too long. If you’re feeling up to it, fix yourself something decent to eat, but most nights you go straight to throwing yourself into bed and scrolling on your phone in the dark until you feel tired enough to sleep, whenever that may be.

Sure, it’s a bit of a boring routine - some might even argue it’s sad - but it’s one you’ve grown far too use to to change up now. You’re just about to get to the latter steps of said routine when you hear a knock at your door - a sound that, at this time of night especially, is unusual.

Tentatively, you approach the door and crack it open just enough to whisper scream at whatever idiot is bothering you at this hour. That is, of course, before you realise it’s him.

He’s gotten a little tanner than the last time you say him, but of course that was last summer now, a bright memory in your mind that seems so far away you struggle to believe that he’s really here, in front of you. His hair’s the same, a little messier and longer albeit, and you really wish you could just get a look at his face but he’s trying his best to avoid eye contact with you, and you can’t help but pick up on the air of shame he’s giving off.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Joao?” you scoff quietly through the tiny crack in your door, but he doesn’t do anything other than offer a smile that is somehow equal parts sad and apologetic. Immediately you feel awful for trying to lighten the mood, but you can’t help it, as bittersweet as it is you’re actually stupidly excited to see him here.

That is, until you open the door wider for him and notice the luggages surrounding him, waiting to be dragged in - so you’re just another pit stop after all, he really hasn’t changed. You shut the door without mentioning it though, following him through the dark as he trudges in. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that you don’t need to tell him to take his shoes off at the door, where to put his bags, or even where your bedroom is. It’d almost be sweet, if thinking of all the times he’d been to your place before didn’t feel like twisting a knife through an already bled-dry wound.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re here?” you call out, following him through the darkness, worry brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“Have you been keeping up with me?” he says, his voice soft as he finally turns around to face you, having made it to your bedroom.

“You mean, at your new club? Yeah, I’ve been trying to here and there, but I do have my own life after all,” you reply, desperate to make him understand that you’ve been trying to move on.

He offers an understanding nod before glancing around your room, “you got new bedsheets.”

“Yeah, quite a while ago actually but, I guess you wouldn’t have known.”

You’re still standing in the doorway of your bedroom, your arms folded over your chest, not really knowing why you suddenly feel so defensive at having him in your house, after so long of not seeing each other.

“Right,” he says, sitting at the edge of your bed a little awkwardly, as if it’s his first time doing so - and you both know it isn’t.

“Joao, what’s going o-”

“They’re letting me go,” he interrupts you, his eyes glued to the floor as he does.

“Wh- like the club? They’re not signing you again? But why? I thought you were doing well?” The questions pour out of your mouth before you realise it’s probably best not to pry, at least given the glimpse of his defeated expression you’re offered.

“I really wish I knew,” he sighs, “my old club is demanding a crazy amount of money for me though, so it might be that.”

Your heart softens a bit seeing him like this, and it suddenly occurs to you that perhaps the reason he came over tonight had less to do with the fact that he was seeing you and more with the fact he had to see someone. If you’re being honest, you know you should shrug and tell him ‘too bad’ and there’s a tiny part of you that wants to ask him why he never called after that one night, but you don’t.

Instead, you walk over to your bed, sit next to him and bring your hand up to cup his face. You let your thumb graze over it gently, trying to ignore the ache you feel in your heart when he looks up at you with such a gentleness in his eyes you feel like you might fall in love with him - again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come over tonight, I just, wanted to see you,” he mumbles into the palm of your hand, and it’s only now you notice he’s leaning in closer.

“It’s okay, I’ve been wanting to see you too,” you hear yourself admit, and it’s not until the words leave your lips do you realise how much you actually mean them. Your hand moves to stroking his hair, and you can visibly see him melt under your touch.

It makes you think of all those nights the two of you spent together, and how they were a little over half a year ago now. When he was the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed new loan to one of Spain’s biggest football clubs that you met at a beachside bar one summer night. How he almost seemed to glow in the sunset when he walked you home, telling you about how he was fitting in with his new teammates, how much better this club was than his old one, how much happier he was. And how happy you were to just listen to him, watch his beaming smile and the adoration in his eyes, to get a taste of his life.

Because, a taste was really all you ever got. It’s not like you were expecting the two of you to get married and live happily ever after but it tugged at your heart whenever he would show up at your doorstep or happen to bump into you at the farmers market he always knew you went to. He would show up almost every second day, and love you like it was breathing, only to slink away the next morning with whispers of “Just don’t tell anyone,” and “You understand, right?”. Since he was a big footballer, and a younger one at that, he couldn’t have anything damaging his chances right now, which was why the two of you could only meet in privacy. You hated it, and the sour feeling it left in your gut every time you watched him close your apartment door at early hours of the morning, but it wasn’t like you had any other option than to believe him - since your only other choice was to lose him, and that was out of the question.

But still, you managed to mess it up - that one warm evening when the two of you were walking side by side along the beach, as you so often seemed to do. Walking close enough that people knew you were friendly, but far enough so that no one would suspect anything more. You can remember looking down at his arms, which he show proudly showed off by rolling up the sleeves of the button up he was wearing, and wanting nothing more than to hold his hand - if not for the physical contact, then to show everyone on this beach and beyond that he was yours. But you knew you couldn’t, so instead you resigned to asking slightly uncomfortable questions, all to make him think a little bit more about your relationship - and by extension, you.

“So,” you hummed, eyes looking down at the imprints of your feet in the sand, “do you think we’ll ever be like, a proper couple?” You cringe a little at how childish your wording sounds, but you’d be lying if you said you knew any other way to word it.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him glance up at you, a little taken aback by the suddenly confrontational question. “Uh, I thought we spoke about this,” he begins, and you immediately feel stupid for even asking, “I can’t really do relationships at the moment.”

“Well, we didn’t really speak about it, it was more you telling me, but I guess yeah,” you mumble, and you don’t know why you’re suddenly feeling so snarky about this.

“I mean, this is fun, right? What we’re doing now? I don’t really have any problem with it.”

Of course he doesn’t*.*

“Right, I mean I don’t really either,” you’re lying through your teeth at this point, “but I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to do all the things couples do?”

“Sure,” he quips, and you can tell he hasn’t even give this, or you, a second thought before.

“So don’t you think there’ll be a day when we actually get to, you know, hold hands and stuff?”

“Maybe,” he hums, and you don’t miss the nonchalant, almost bored, tone in his voice and how he isn’t even bothering to look at you. “You know, I’m just really busy with training and games now so.”

”Right, I get that, I mean once this summer’s over I’ll have to get on with things too,” you say, giving him exactly the response you know he’s expecting.

He turns to look at you finally, giving you a proud smile at your words. “Well, I’ve got to get going now,” he says abruptly.

“Oh, okay,” you utter, “Call me, alright?”

“Yeah, sure!” he calls out, but he’s already halfway up the beach and you’re sure he’s barely heard you. And you stood there for a while, watching him jog away, your heart sinking further with every step he took in the opposite direction.

And of course, he never did call - and you’d be lying if you said you were totally surprised. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, and all you were left with were those memories. Echoes of his laughter, the taste of his kisses, the ghost of his touch, all haunted your apartment which now felt hollow and empty. Of course, you managed to get on with it somehow, move past him and whatever had happened between you two.

And yet, here he was, again. You were still trying to shake the surprise that crept through you, but as you continued running your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner you can’t help but feel a sickening sense of deja vu. At seeing him here, at touching him like this, at him being here at all. Still, you think you could stay like this forever - but of course, you can’t and the heaviness in your heart urges you to break the silence before you do something you’re going to regret.

“So, what does this mean for you then?” It’s an awkward question, you can admit, and it shows on Joao’s face when he finally looks up at you - a little dazed and confused. You scoot a little bit away from him to lie down and he takes this as his sign to do the same.

“Hm? Oh, right,” he leans in a little closer as he lies down and for a split second you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he just lays his head down on your chest as he continues to talk, “I guess I’ll have to go back to my old club, I mean I’ve got no choice.”

“Right,” you say curtly, caught off guard by the suddenly affectionate gesture - and what might be disappointment at the fact he didn’t kiss you. You don’t push him off though, instead you continue to stroke his hair, looking down at him as he talks.

“I just,” he sighs, “I just thought I was doing well you know?” You nod understandingly and you can hear the frustrated disappointment in his tone, one you recognise from the times he’d lost games before and come over to rant all about them.

“I’m sure you were amazing,” you try your best to reassure him, and it seems to work as he nods against your chest. There’s a beat of silence, you feel his breathing slow and it’s only then you realise how tired he is - from how slow his movements have been this entire evening. You’re about to give in and let him fall asleep on you, but it’s his turn to break the silence this time.

“Today was actually the last game of the season,” his words aren’t the clearest, and you can tell he’s basically half asleep, “the rest of the team wanted to go out to celebrate but I just couldn’t go. Seeing them all smiling and laughing while knowing they’ve got a place at that club next season while I don’t, I just couldn’t do it, you know?”

You wish you could tell him how much you understand that feeling, but instead you just hum in agreement.

“I wanted to see you instead,” and for about the billionth time that night you find yourself taken aback by his words. “I’m sorry I never called.”

“I really wish you had, I missed you,” you respond, a little weary of how honest you’re being suddenly. But he needs to hear this, needs to know how he made you feel when he suddenly disappeared after weeks of loving you like nothing else mattered.

That is of course, before you recognise the soft rising and falling of his chest - he’s fallen asleep. Your heart aches a little at the sight, and you let out a sigh when you realise you’ve got no choice other than to lay there, arms wrapped around him, until you fall asleep too. You reach over to switch off your singular lamp, drowning the two of you in darkness. Staring out your window at the cool evening sky, you think about how much has changed since the two of you last lay together like this. How with the changing of the seasons you two became such different people, and moved on to different parts of your lives - but through it all, your feelings for him never seemed to fade, and for the first time in months it felt like you were being gifted some reciprocity. You could only hope Joao had changed enough to not repeat his morning routines, slipping away and leaving you alone once more. But until then, you were content with this - this small moment, that might not have mattered at all in the grand scheme of things, but was enough for you and your aching heart. If nothing more, to lay here with him in the darkness, the rhythm of his soft breathing lulling you to sleep, was enough.

#joao felix #joão félix #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix oneshot #joao felix fic #fanfic #football #oneshot #fc barça #fc barcelona #jet writes ★#purinfelix #angst fic

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sideblog-hazbin-hotel-fics · 2 days

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More Hucow Adam

Summary:

Seven years of being in depression and in denial...he's also been celibate. Seven long years of sexual desire to unleash. And he had an eager slutty Adam who seemed desperate to belong to someone who wanted to claim him.

aka

Adam becomes Lucifer's personal fleshlight/cumdump/cockwarmer. Constantly leaking Lucifer's cum, but also his pecs just keep lactating.

His nipples were sore with attention, but he needed more! His pecs felt so heavy now that he'd begun lactating. Before he would have claimed it was just muscle, but now he was too overstimulated to have any other thoughts other than needing to be milked or stuffed by Lucifer's cock somehow. His own cock straining against his belly, aching but not touched until Lucifer felt like it. Lately, Lucifer just loved to see how much stimulation to his pecs could cause Adam to cum untouched. More and more attention to his pecs each day, the less time it took.

"Look at you...so needy. So full of milk!" Lucifer cooed as he pinched and tweaked Adam's erected nipples. Sprays of milk shot out in different directions, and Lucifer did his best to catch it in his mouth before latching onto one of the nubs. He suckled hungrily while his hand massaged the other, milk soaking his hand with how much Adam was pumping. Pulling back, the cold air that caught the released nipple was enough pleasure to send Adam over the edge.

Before his mind could refocus, Lucifer was pulling him toward his crotch. Instinctively, Adam opened his mouth and moaned around Lucifer's cock as he took him in inch after inch. By now, Lucifer's fucked away his gag reflex, so he swallows and hums in contentment. This is where he wanted to be. Center of attention of someone he's known and loved for eons. Finally getting the attention he deserved and didn't know he wanted!

Lucifer grips Adam's hair tightly as he fucks that pretty little mouth. Moaning Adam's name as he cums, part of the load in his throat, but pulling out to paint Adam's face with his cum as well. Lucifer smiles at the mess he's made, slapping Adam's pretty little face with his cock. His smile widens as Adam sticks his tongue out as a landing pad, wanting more of him. Lucifer runs his fingers through Adam's hair and praises him, "Good boy."

"Moooo~" Adam mewled in response.

His mind may be shut off by all the fucking, but he's managed to remember the single noise that seems to drive Lucifer wild. And it still did the trick. The moaning in a moo went straight to Lucifer's cock and Adam found himself on his pack, legs wrapped around Lucifer's shoulder, being stuffed with royal cock.

***

Lucifer still tries to be responsible. Now more than ever he's keenly aware of how easily everything could fall apart if he's not careful. So he does force himself to step away from his bedroom desires to do paperwork, go to meetings, make sure his Sins are in order...some are more than others. He visits Charlie and helps her with her hotel and dreams, while also bringing her into more awareness of what it actually means to be part of the Morningstar Royal Family.

Seven years of being celibate because of Lilith's absence when he was such a sexual creature meant he couldn't keep away from Adam for long. It was late when he returned to the palace after a day out on errands and meetings. He was tired and irritated, and sexually frustrated.

"Adam!" He called out with authority.

***

"Fuck me..." Adam panted as he tried to rut against Lucifer's cock. He was currently impaled on it but Lucifer was holding him down. Chin rested on the newly turned Sinner's shoulder while Lucifer played and manhandled Adam's leaking pecs. Adam was drenched with how long they'd been like this.

Lucifer peppered kisses along Adam's shoulder blade and hummed, "No."

"Fucker!"

Lucifer smirked, "That I am."

"Fuck me!" Adam repeated.

"I will."

"When?!"

"Whenever and however the fuck I want," Lucifer bit down on his shoulder and pinched his nipple a bit harder.

A larger stream of milk erupted and Adam moaned and clenched around Lucifer's cock as he came. "Fuck..."

"Good idea!" Lucifer pulled Adam off of him before manhandling him onto all fours. Holding him firmly by his hips he entered Adam again and began to fuck him. The noises Adam made, over-stimulated and having lost count of how many times he's cum already, drove Lucifer wild with need. He came three times inside of Adam, wanting him to be overflowing when he finally pulled out. But that wasn't enough. He fucked his cum right back in, and before he came the fourth time, he pulled out to cover Adam's back as well. Which only led him to yank Adam back by his hair and rub his cock against Adam's face until the practically passed-out ex-angel just opened his mouth out of muscle memory and took Lucifer's cock into his mouth. Lucifer gently rocked in and out of him until he was hard and then began fucking Adam's mouth with gusto. His last orgasm painted Adam's chest and part of his chin.

***

When Adam woke up, Lucifer was latched onto one of his nipples drinking away greedily while gently thrusting into him. He let out a moan and then a louder 'Moo' to alert Lucifer he was awake and that they can start properly fucking for the day.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #hucow adam (hazbin hotel)#adamsapple #lucifer/adam #fanfic

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usermarquez · 2 hours

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Saw a video of Marc post Sepang 2015 press conference and he literally looks like he’s about to break into tears and have a panic attack, like Valentino Rossi I’m in your walls for what you put him through bullying a 22 year old at your big old age if 36 just cause you weren’t getting your way and Marc never got that reputation that he lost back like Marc probably couldn’t have filed for defamation and won with the way he was dragged because of valentinos delusions. And know he’s passed it on to his academy kids. Marc still talks about the effects of that to this day, like we will never now just how bad it got like people still regularly say they hope he dies even straight to his face, like I know people joke about it in a fantasy rosquez senario but irl what he did to Marc and what his fans did to Marc is disgusting and somehow he’s praised for it. He also told the media what they were saying to ianonii was wrong and in the same breath turned around and did it to Marc like I heard that he even accused Dani of riding him hard and that he expected people to get out of his way because he was in the lead of a championship like if you can’t do hard racing maybe you don’t deserve the title you say got stolen from you. I’m kinda glad Rossis last years of MotoGP was kinda his worst nightmare Marc Marquez dominating and doing it on a bike that wasn’t the best in the field something Rossi never did cause even if the 2004 Yamaha wasn’t the best bike he rode it was one of the best of that year and let’s face it his crop of actual rivals that’s could challenge him was basically non-existent whereas Marc won 2019 which was the most competitive season ever based on statistics and won it with 18 podium including 12 wins.

ALL OF THIS !!! ALL OF THIS !!!! As I said, I treat Rosquez and Post 2015 Vale as concepts in my head because otherwise if I think of Vale as a real person I might be tempted to deck him if I ever have the chance.

I think what Vale and Uccio had done at the time was completely disgusting, and no amount of RPF-fication of either of them can’t undo or change those facts.

“Oh, he’s just in his silly little mood.” Oh, fuck off, maybe focus on beating your teammate instead. And for people who came at Marc and like “You should’ve been a bigger person.” Well, fuck you. How mature could a twenty-two years old person be after hearing himself booed for something he didn’t even know. I know I would be plotting for the one responsible for it.

Also, what do you mean Vale could pull Dani aside, accused him from riding him too hard AWAY from the cameras, but Marc couldn’t get the same courtesy and instead dropping it in the middle of a press conference watched by millions of viewers. Disgusting. Completely unnecessary.

And the whole telling people off reeks of hypocrisy because when asked if he would tell fans to stop after his fans booed Marc and Jorge in Qatar 2016, all he could say was that was beyond his control. Which I know that in the end fans do as fans like, but the fact he could do that for Iannone but not Marc and Jorge was just disgusting to me I can’t find any other words than everything Vale did then as disgusting and vile.

Also, people romanticize that he passed the Marc hate to the Academy riders is so weird to me. The implication that Marc is sharing a track with people who personally hate him makes me feel so uncomfortable, I don’t want to go down that road. But, whatever.

Anyway, I don’t care if people stan Vale and Marc but I do have problems when people treat everything that happened to Marc like it was a fiction. This is something Marc has GONE THROUGH in real life. This is a real person who suffered the backlash because someone couldn’t keep his ego in check, because he couldn’t handle the realization that he couldn’t overtake IANNONE while Jorge and Marc were having the duel of their lives.

Rosquez reconciliation only works for me if Vale goes on his knees in front of international broadcast, grovels and begs Marc to forgive him, and posts the clip on all his social medias. Otherwise, Marc shouldn’t even look at that man for longer than one second.

Anyway, wow this suddenly looks like it’s turning into an anti Rosquez rambles which sounds I hate them but I actually don’t (?) I just think that sometimes Rosquez posts romanticising Sepang and 2015 and the fallout a lot and as someone who lived through it AND DID NOT enjoy it, it’s just so disconcerting. Hearing someone saying “Wow, the narrative is compelling.” knowing that that was the most unpleasant time, and did nothing except ruining a lot of people’s enjoyment of the sport…….. I didn’t even dare say I like Marc because someone would wish him dead and called me stupid.

#sorry pls look away i’m going on a frustrated rant #💌💌💌#.anon

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bunnydongsik · 3 days

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Can you reccomend some fics where dong shik is not portrayed as some kind dom top daddy I hate those type fics they mischarecterise both juwon and dong shik😭😭😭

I can, yes!

However if you're looking for smut specifically, there really aren't that many in English unfortunately.

I've been quenching my thirst by running Korean and Japanese fanfictions through google translate lol

Now, I don't know if you're specifically looking for smut or no smut at all, or just anything, so I will share regardless of rating

I'll post a link and then the author's own summary and then my own description. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have!

This is a small selection, obviously these are not the only ones that I think are good!

(after putting together this list i realised that the vast majority are from Dongsik's point of view. whoops)

Fics rated Gen to Mature:

Heart and Soul by bluetrees

Lee Dong Sik has spent nineteen years in prison for a crime he did not commit. Now that he is finally free, he is out to find out the truth, as well as who did this to him, and make sure they regret the day they were born.

What if Dongsik were actually convicted of Bang Juseon's murder? and what happens when he gets out. An AU of the events of the show.

This is the longest one on the list, so settle in for the ride.

Lose yourself in lines dissecting love by bluetrees

Lee Dong Sik turns into a bit of an idiot when he likes someone. He thought he was over it, but as it turns out, there just wasn't anyone he liked enough for this trait to manifest. Well, until now.

This is a much short and sillier fic about Dongsik not knowing how to navigate a romantic relationship, and Joowon not knowing either but somehow still being better at it.

as i’m about to leave by katierosefun

And then he’d said those words—quietly, sleepily: “I love you.”

Looking back, Dong Sik wasn’t really sure why he said it. There was no real grand moment leading up to it, and it wasn’t even a special anniversary (they weren’t even at that point yet—). He had said those words because he had just said those words, and wasn’t that what couples (couples) said to each other when one was leaving for work?

[or: Dong Sik says “I love you” to Joo Won, who promptly shorts out for a good 24 hours.]

Summary is summary. Dongsik says I love you and angsts about it being too early for Joowon. of course there is no issue.

call you out on your contrarian shit by katierosefun

“Come on,” Dong Sik says after a beat. “You must have a type.”

Joo Won picks up another slice of chamoe. “And if I do?” he asks.

[or: dong sik trying (and failing) to get han joo won to go see someone else. han joo won only has one (1) type, baby, and that's lee dong sik.]

As the summary states. Dongsik attempting to avoid being wooed and failing miserably.

a faint qualm for the future by 64907

Lee Dongsik and Han Joowon have nothing in common.

Joowon and Dongsik having very different tastes and interests but loving each other anyway.

all is well (in this blighted world) by fadefromwinter

Right in the middle of the end of the world, Han Joo Won returned to Manyang with backpacks full of non-perishable food, medical supplies, and some choice military-grade weaponry.

Afther the epilogue, there is a zombie apocalypse. The focus of the fic is very much on their relationship. I highly recommend giving it a try even if zombies aren't usually your thing.

The Early Bird by furorem

Dong-sik and Joo-won, living across each other in Munju, had finally managed to strike a fragile balance in their friendship after years of conflicting feels. Or that's what Joo-won had told himself and believed in order to stay close to the man he just couldn’t let go. Until one day, that same man dared to show up with a mysterious, beautiful woman at his side, turning Joo-won's beliefs and his carefully crafted composure on its head. He was given no choice but to fall back on drastic measures. After all, the early bird catches the worm…

I absolutely adore this fic. Joowon being jealous because he's once again jumping to conclusions, and trying to woo Dongsik with expensive presents instead of like, confessing.

like a carnivorous flower by furorem

Two years later, two years after that pier, and that awkward lunch and sporadic visits for various birthdays and other important dates, Joo-Won returned. In the summer - hibiscus and round-leaved sundew were in full bloom; the air was sweet and syrupy with it - looking older, more mature, unburdened. On the surface at least.

I just fucking love this author's characterization of these two lol. Once again, Dongsik being an idiot who attempts to thwart Joowon's wooing attempts in a idiot way, and coming off as quite pathetic as he's hunted down (romantically) by a very determined Joowon.

against the present by satiricalsmiles

Dongsik learns what to do with his nightmares, and allows himself to want, and to let go.

Dongsik dealing and not dealing with nightmares and Joowon being very patient.

Works rated Explicit:

survivalism by princesskay

While Joo-won is gone for four days at a work conference, Dong-sik attempts to clean the basement of his family's belongings for the first time in 25 years, in the process reviving forgotten memories that bring both joy and pain.

Dongsik having a depressive episode and Joowon struggling to comfort him. Also, smut at the end.

never enough by princesskay

After half a year of doing whatever it is that they're doing, Dong-sik thinks he might be entitled to ask for more time with Joo-won than just one day out of the week. A well-laid trap on a morning after leads to unintended but satisfying consequences …

Dongsik being a brat and being tied to the bed and tickled for his efforts. Pure smut.

Focus by azure7539

“Our young master,” Dongsik feigned a sigh, “are you really that hungry?”

“For you?” Joowon raised an eyebrow, the shape of a small smirk gracing at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in and nibbled at Dongsik’s lower lip. “Always.”

Pure smut, very good, very in character. unfortunately quite short (more please)

Like Pressing Buttons by Dilidos

Dong-sik couldn't get hard. He didn't mind it very much. Joo-won disagreed (and found a new fetish in the process).

Dongsik has erectile dysfunction and Joowon is determined to give him an orgasm. He succeeds.

This is quite special to me as it's the only fic I've found that agrees with my headcanon that Dongsik can't get it up.

on the hook of your splendor by 64907

For a man accustomed to giving, sometimes, Han Joowon inspires tendencies in him that he himself didn’t know he had.

Joowon and Dongsik discovering together that Joowon is a service top at heart. So true.

obliterate all prior things by thefoxinmotion

When Inspector Oh Ji Hwa comes into possession of an old tape depicting the interrogation of a young Lee Dong Sik, she struggles to support her friend through trauma inflicted by the system they serve. Lee Dong Sik grapples with his own vulnerability and learns that trusting his partner isn't as scary as he thought. Meanwhile, Han Juwon desperately wants to take care of Lee Dong Sik for the rest of his life, and he's not about to let Dong Sik get in the way of that.

This is a a fic with a dark premise - Jihwa discovers that Dongsik was raped when he was interrogated 20 years ago, and Dongsik tries to deal with it on his own as always, and Joowon being a good boyfriend. The description of the rape itself is minor, the focus is much more on the relationship between Joowon and Dongsik, but of course avoid this one if it's too much.

The rating is because of enthusiastic, consensual sex between Joowon and Dongsik.

#beyond evil #jwds #fic recs #fanfic recs

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