#he keeps telling them to either get or make their own
Note
HII<33
i love ur work and i was wondering if you could write one where matt sees u with another guy and gets really really jealous and it ends with mattheo like really hard core fucking the reader like bend over and stuff? (can u tell i’m ovulating?)
[sorry for the late answer but I’m cleaning my drafts and requests right now and since I have so many I‘m gonna keep them a little shorter, hope u still like it 🫶🏻]
+ i already had something similar in my drafts so i mixed it
jealous jealous jealous you | mattheo riddle
summary: mattheo wants to make you jealous but you‘re way ahead of him
warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, spanking, doggystyle, jealousy from reader and mattheo, different house reader
Mattheo thought he had the best plan ever. He knew you liked him, he saw the looks you gave him when you thought he wasn‘t noticing. The way he could always get under your skin with his annoying comments, your cheeks heating up when he whispered them into your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin.
But he was just as stubborn as you. So of course he wouldn‘t just admit he liked you. He wanted to make you say it so he had a plan.
Tonight it was a party where all the houses gathered together to celebrate. You knew Mattheo would be there ao of course you wore the shortest and tightest dress you owned with cute little heels on your feet. When you entered the party, it didn‘t took long for you to find Mattheo, dancing with Pansy. But what they both didn‘t knew was, you knew that Pansy liked your best friend Jane so it was obviously what kind of game he played.
But two can play that game. It didn‘t take long for you to find someone to dance. There was that boy Colin from your house that eyed you up and down so you took your chance. He pulled you towards him while dancing, your hips moving to the music and your ass brushing his jeans when you turned your back to him while dancing. You stood perfect, exactly in sight for Mattheo who looked at you over Pansy‘s shoulder.
You smiled at him provoking, leaning forwards and shaking your ass in front of Colin. That‘s it. That was all it took for Mattheo to let go of Pansy and storming towards you. Without a single word he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you away from the party.
"Let go of me Mattheo!" you groaned, but he didn‘t answer and didn‘t stop walking either. He took you up to the astronomy tower, pushing you against the railing so you where squeezed between it and his body.
"I‘m so fucking done with your games." he whipers angrily into your ear while he places his hands on your hips. "Don‘t know what you mean." you answer him with a cheeky smirk. He scoffs, turning you around with one swift motion, pushing your upper body over the railing.
"Mattheo!" you gasp loudly as your hands hold themselves at the metal beneath you. "I‘m gonna teach you a lesson now baby. It‘s called 'nobody‘s allowed to touch you besides me' understand?" be asks while slowly pushing the little fabric of your dress over your ass. You hear him groan behind you, his hands instantly on your skin.
Suddenly a sharp sting goes through you, making you gasp again in shock. You look over your shoulder and see Mattheo already smiling at you, them his hand coming down again on your cheek, leaving a mark. You bite down on your bottom lip trying to hide the moans that wanted to leave your mouth.
But soon he hits harder and you feel the wetness between your legs. "I said: Do you understand?" he repeats himself with such a sharp hit on your ass this time that a short scream left your mouth.
You feel him pulling your panties down and also hear him groan at the sight of your wet pussy. "Fuck I should have done that way earlier. Who could have known that our perfect little princess is that desperate huh?" His fingers wander over your wetness, teasing your clit in a circling motion.
Whimpers leave your mouth, wanting nothing more tham to feel him inside of you. "Please.." you start begging and wiggling your hips against him. "What was that princess? Couldn‘t quite hear you." he says in a mocking tone, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. "Please fuck me, need you, please." little whines leave your mouth which make his cock harder every second.
He pushes two fingers inside you, making you moan desperately. He leans forwards until his mouth is next to your ear again and whispers "I‘m goimg to fuck you so hard that you won‘t even remember anything from today but my cock inside your wet little pussy."
His fingers pumping and his thumb teasing your clit made you lose your mind, making you a brainless mess. "Shit look at you already so stupid just from my fingers. What‘s gonna happen when I fuck you with my cock?" he says in a devilish tone.
"Mattheo Please.." you beg again. "Need you inside me." You hear him fumbling with his belt, opening his pants and pushing them down with his boxershorts. He rubs his cock against your ass and chuckles. "Feel this princess?" You bite your lip and nod.
He breathes out, excited to already feel you. "I‘ve waited so long to do this.." Slowly he drags his tip through your wet folds, grunting at the feeling. Then he pushes in, inch for inch, biting his lip too.
"Oh fuck you‘re so tight baby. Just waited for me to pound that pussy." he moans as he feels your walls clench around him, sucking him in. Your eyes roll back and your hands tighten around the railing.
His hands grab your hips even tigther, fucking you from behind. One of his hands goes around your body finding your clit to bring you even closer to your high. His other hand finds your throat and squeezes it, smiling when he hears your moan and your walls around him tightening.
"It feels so good Matty.." you mumble, your eyes already closed with parted lips. His fingers against your clit worked even faster, making you tremble in front of him. "Oh baby I know, and guess what?" he leans forwards again whispering into your ear. "I‘m gonna be the only one who touches you. Never ever will anothet man touch you. You‘re mine princess. And I am your‘s." His touch got a little softer around your throat as he says this. "I- I‘m yours Mattheo." you moan, feeling your heart swelling in your chest.
"That‘s my good girl hm, now come for me on my cock." Your eyes squeeze shut as his hips thrust harder and faster, his fingers still working on your clit until you see stars.
You grab his arm behind you squeezing it as you come around him with a lout and broken moan. "Oh fuck.." Mattheo smiles down on you and groans as he feels your walls spasm. "Come inside me." you mumble quietly but loud enough for him to hear.
"You sure baby?" he asks again, biting his lip when he feels his climax nearing. You nod your head, feeling powerless after your orgasm. With a final thrust he stops inside you and comes inside you and let‘s out a short and quite whimper, groaning afterwards to conceal it. But you heard anyways and smile already ready to tease him.
When you both calm down again, all sweaty and a little shaky, he pulls you off the railing against his body, kissing you for the first time. "Should have done that way earlier too.." You laugh lighty and look up into his eyes. "You have all the time now to do so.." "hmm i hope so." he answers, leaning down to kiss you again with all the love he had in him.
thank you for reading 🫶🏻
taglist: @sofa-couch26 @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username
xoxo sarah <3
#slytherin boys#slytherin imagine#slytherin smut#harry potter imagine#sub mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle masterlist#mattheo riddle blurb#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle headcanon#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut
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I just wanna see that smile
wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss
a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!
Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since.
Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something.
Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile.
Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy.
Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy.
Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers.
“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck.
Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page.
“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”
“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.”
Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around.
Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there.
“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him.
“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.”
The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive.
Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm.
They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.
“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?”
Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.
“What are you worried about?”
“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor.
“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual.
“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.”
Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back.
“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.”
“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”
“Yep.”
He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands.
“You’re serious.” Eddie says.
“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases.
“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?”
Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.”
Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.
“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?”
The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull.
Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear.
“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”
fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#myblurbs
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Some small dilf!Simon thots. F!reader.
You had to run some important errands so you’re arriving later and pushed Simon (who also gets dragged by his young daughters) to parents night/ some parent/child event.
Mans is definitely wearing either a hat or surgical mask with his jacket . Big scary looking man his 2 adorable daughters. all the single moms attempting to get close and flirt with him. Even if he’s trying to make a point of the wedding ring on his finger. But Simon is reserved, and quiet. he’ll only accept this flirty behavior from you, and so he tries to be as cordial as possible with them without coming off as rude.
And his little girls’ logic is “lady being close to dad should be mom”. but this lady = not mom. So they loudly proclaim “you’re not my mommy!” And simons looks down and tell them “you’re right” and gives the lady a pointed look. And so they’re his little bodyguards keeping other moms from approaching him until you arrive. Simon is probably like “thank god you’re here”.
Also: if there are any physical activity games involved, Simon and his girls would OWN everyone else.
I need to have his babies NEOW
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x female reader#cod x f!reader#modern warfare
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clingy!cheol thoughts
word count -> 747
tags -> copious amounts of fluff, cheol brainrot, there's really nothing else to it, have i mentioned fluff?, princess as a nickname once, gn pronouns, suggestive if you squint extremely hard, nowhere near proofread
it's cheol and he's bulked and follow seoul where he performs lalali has me brainrotting
When the thoughts thought again and its cuddly bulky choi seungcheol ?? who feels like a soft pillow when you hug him and he’s relaxed but when he tenses you can feel how hard his muscles are and its brain chemistry altering. The kinda guy who’ll pull you into a hug and it mildly blows you away with how strong he actually is and then he practically melts into the sofa because it’s been a hard day and he’s finally relaxed when he has the love of his life in his arms and suddenly you realise, oh, he’s a literal pillow. Like I refuse to believe he’s not actually just incredibly soft like we’ve all seen him he pouts when angry.
You can bet he’s proud of it too and he thinks of it as a charm point because who wouldn’t want a cuddly s/o he’s literally a teddy bear. An oversized teddy bear (/pos) but a teddy bear nonetheless who’s always up for cuddles. Thinking princess carries to bed where you can feel his muscles under you and there’s a slight concern over his leg and he’ll probably shrug it off and then regret it when he tries to sit down and the pain twinges. Does he get scolded for it? Yes. Will he do it again? Absolutely. Will he be told absolutely not and to sit down and that you can walk? Yes. Will he do it regardless? Well of course, that’s his princess right there he’s not about to make them walk to bed?? Not when he can technically carry them and he’s missed out on the privilege of doing so for the past few months?
This is heavily influenced by weverse cheol pics from like . a week ago? My memory is shit don’t expect an exact date but like we’ve all seen how big he’s gotten and honestly I need him to keep bulking he looks so good when he does but that’s not the point thinking about laying on his chest and you can’t help but notice it’s softer than your own pillow. When you tell him this he’ll only laugh, that kinda deep chuckle where his face twists into pure amusement and he holds you closer and tells you in a really cheesy voice that he’ll always be your pillow. He’ll take it as a reason to brag too, joking about how he’s your favourite pillow and really can you disagree with that?
Mild suggestive (?) but like since he’s recovered and I personally feel as though he’s bulked significantly he’s also absolutely the kinda guy to just . manhandle his partner around from casually picking you up to pulling you closer to him, either by grabbing your waist or your wrist and who knows he might just place a kiss on your lips as well, a smile ghosting his when you murmur that his lips are so soft and who knows, maybe he’s the kinda guy to say “I keep them soft for you”, which honestly, interpret that in any context you could possibly want the possibilities are endless. Small displays of strength followed by immense amount of softness and affection and constant check ins to make sure he hasn’t hurt you. A continuous duality that I honestly think really just represents Cheol.
Or maybe it’s the opposite, and it goes from soft Cheol where in reaction to being teased he takes it upon himself to remind you he actually isn’t just a soft cuddly bear (that’s a lie if he pulls you into his arms he’s just going to relax again and nuzzle his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo).
Also thinking clingy!cheol who despises even the notion of having you out of his arms for longer than a few minutes especially when it’s at home and he hasn’t seen you for a whole day because of schedules because what do you mean you’re trying to cook and he can’t back hug you through every step of the process?? He’ll fall asleep with you in his arms and is absolutely the kind of guy to wake up from a single indicator of movement that tells him you’re moving away and will pout and whine about it until offered an explanation. If you’re going to the toilet he will stay awake and wait for you to come back to welcome you back to sleep with open arms and I will die on this hill.
#hiro brainrots#scoups fluff#seungcheol fluff#seventeen fluff#i actually love this man#he's literally the sweetest#but like also he's so Big and it contrasts sm with his generally soft nature#that one mirror cheol selfie#also the way his hair's faded is so nice#i could yap about him forever
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single mom x price; PART 4
you try to stay away from john. and, surprisingly so, it turns out that it's not an easy job.
AO3 VERSION
part 1 || part 2 || part 3
You know that you usually keep your promises.
When Janice had to leave for a week and asked you to water her flowers religiously three times a day, you didn’t skip any watering. You stood there, cursed multiple times under your breath with a more or less excited kid on your hip, but you did it. Even if your son was a pain in the ass and tried to destroy every little plant that Janice had because watering three times a day was stupid for him.
When Cassie’s mom came to you, telling you she’s pregnant, scared of having kids in her forties, you were the one that drove her to the abortion clinic and promised not to tell anyone. Because she was terrified of doing this alone, not to mention asking someone else.
Information like this in a small town spreads like weeds in the garden, no matter how hard you try, and you knew it too well. So, as her best pick, you tried to take it like a hero.
And you didn’t even flinch when you heard that they thought you were the one that got rid of the baby, not her. You just stared blankly, acting as calm as ever, even if their stares were too much to bear when you shopped, talked with others. Easy enough, they watched you like hawks.
Eventually, it all calmed down, like the weather after the storm. Everyone started living their own lives again, got invested into another drama, forgetting the situation with abortion clinic. And, Cassie’s mom was eternally grateful for that. Probably still is.
You’re known for keeping your promises and getting the job done, so you really can’t be surprised when the neighbors choose you to be responsible for this year’s neighbors BBQ, something that this town is obsessed with, when it gets warmer. Can’t really blame them, as the town is dead during the winter months.
What is surprising in this situation is the fact that you have to break a promise—but the promise that you made to yourself.
Just because you’re in a committee with John Price. John Price that you wanted to desperately avoid for some time, but right now, he’s looking down at you with a smile, patting your back with encouragement.
“We’re gonna have so much fun with this,” he murmurs, right to your ear. It’s nothing naughty, but it’s enough to make your whole body feel hot, like your body is full of lava. He knows you can’t say no to organizing this BBQ, and if you would, he’d find a way to get you back on board.
And, he for sure noticed that you spoke to him less lately. As you learned, he’s not really a fan of that behavior, so when you go home, you have only one thought in your mind: you’re terrible at keeping distance from John Price. It’s either a terrible coincidence, or he has the help of God to make you run into him every time.
Ironically, the second option sounds more real than the first one, even if it should be the other way.
Planning with him feels easy, though. He’s quick to make a whole concept of the party with you, where exactly the BBQ needs to take place, what can be brought so it will be better than the years before. He’s ambitious enough that he makes small jabs towards the neighbors that hosted years before, saying something about not having a sense of style and stuff that shouldn’t make you laugh, but they do.
When it comes to the practical stuff of the job, it’s a bit different; John doesn’t let you touch anything or lift something by yourself, god forbid you try to say that you’re going to help him with moving things. The irritation because of it is enough for you to try to confront him, but he just shushes you. He says something about having “the boys” for that, and you’re not invited to the physical part of the job.
However, you asking him for help? He seems to love the fact that you need him.
When you are trying out the recipes, he’s magically around you. Appears in the most random moments, just to annoy you a little, whisper some encouraging words, like “you got it, love”. He’s more than eager to try out the food, always licking the spoon clean with such focus, like it was a military job, not his neighbor asking him for his opinion on BBQ food. Not only it makes you satisfied, but flustered as well.
Whatever you want to say to him about it, you forget it right away. You’re far too gone in his praises, slight suggestions, and so much more that has you wondering if this man is just nice, or he really means it. Because you truly believe that he does; no one could fake the glimmer in their eyes, lips twitching in a playful manner and this damn look of approval, when you do the right thing. When you think about it, you could easily get used to it if it would mean he’d be around more.
Hell, you never liked cooking that much. It was mostly something to do, so you won’t starve. With John? With John it feels like you want him to admire your food, so you try as thrice as you did in the past.
What is also satisfying in this whole “planning” thing, you’re the commander if it comes down to decorations—you tell him if something needs to go to the left side, if it’s in the right place, or maybe it doesn’t fit the vibe at all. It's good fun for you, a lot of bickering with John, a lot of him actually respecting what you have to say. Sheer contrast to the contact that you normally had with other men, and the dad of your son. Constant problems, give me this, give me that, nothing really came from them. And if it did, you had to ask for it.
And John? John is just the epitome of a perfect man. The kind one that you like seeing on the street because he’s helpful and considerate. Always willing to help you, no matter what the hour is, or what the problem is, like—
Like a real husband, you think, trying to push that thought away the second you see that you’re losing yourself a little too much in it. Just because someone is nice to you, it doesn’t mean that they have a romantic interest in you.
John isn’t helpful with making your thoughts go away; he’s so close to you, like he doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. At some point, you think that he has to do this on purpose. It’s not possible that he’s like this with everyone—so touchy, manhandling every time someone stands in his way, whispering little “I need you to move,” before moving the person somewhere else. It’s unnecessary, you would move if he’d only ask you to do it, but…
But you’d lie if you’d say that you do not like this. Because you do, with all of your heart, even if normally you’d be irritated by behavior like this. But, this is John Price that you talk about. He’s so delicate in this, joking around so much that you don’t even pay attention to the amount of times that he does that.
The closeness doesn’t bother you; not until you realize that a bunch of people are observing you with sharp precision; they’re talking about something too, but it’s clear for you that they are watching the two of you. It’s even more obvious when they gasp right in the moment when John kisses you in the temple, squeezing your hip, silently thanking you for the help. Like you were doing it out of simple kindness, not because you two are responsible for it anyway.
“I’m gonna go,” you murmur under your breath, almost jogging to your house, just so no one will notice the flustered look on your face.
You’re not free of John here either; after an hour, he asks you over the text if you have a minute because he has a sudden epiphany. So, like a good neighbor you are, you stay on the phone with him for another hour, when he tells you how a “kids friendly” zone is needed. Because some parents don’t have a nanny or anyone to leave their kid with; and it seems reasonable.
He makes a monologue about inflatable castles, houses, everything that excites kids.
“I already have a guy to buy it from. I just need your word,” he says. You can almost hear how he smiles on the other side from his tone. “So, what do you say?”
So, even if it seems a bit fancy for your town, you agree, thinking it would be his way of saying a proper “hello” to the neighbors. You even regret that your kid is currently at his grandma's place, as you dropped him a few days before the preparations, because he’d love this idea. More than anything.
Yet, you bet that with John being here, in your neighborhood, he’ll have multiple occasions to do fun things.
The day you have to host BBQ, Price is here for you from the early morning. Making final touches, speaking like a motivational coach because he sees how big of a mess you are; he even helps you to do your hair before you two go outside and start everything properly.
You’re the equivalent of a stress ball, when he’s literally the calmest person alive in the same moment. Water to your fire, easing your nerves in the moments that you’d consider as trivial, extinguishing the heat when you need it. Making you actually feel seen with your feelings, with how he acknowledges them and treats you the best he can in the moment. You feel less dumb for being so nervous, and automatically you feel better as well.
Hours feel like minutes by his side. You greet your neighbors, make small talks about food or their families, asking how they are; you can easily leave any negative thoughts behind you, without caring about your emotions before the BBQ. All you care about is right now, and how John is literally around you at every moment possible—because this man does not leave your side, even if you’re talking with someone that he doesn’t know personally.
“Oh, she’s responsible for all of it,” he says, grinning like a devil, when you talk with the Smiths about the preparations. It’s so easy for him to sneak an arm around you, and you can’t even find in yourself the want to push him away. “I was just Santa’s little helper, ‘s all.”
“Stop that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “He was very helpful, actually. I wouldn’t know what to do without his help.”
“Only on her command.” John shrugs, looking down at you. For some reason, you feel your stomach tightening on the size difference that you two have. “Without her, it probably would look like a brothel. Maybe worse, so she is the real brain of the operation.”
He’s like that all night. Praising you, even if he’s not directly speaking next to you; him pointing a finger in your direction, sending a wink, it all makes you feel like you suddenly have your wings again. Like you can actually do anything with him by your side. He charges your batteries, and you’re thankful for that.
What also charges your batteries is alcohol—normally you wouldn’t be a drinker because of your son, but when you know he’s in your mother’s house, it’s a different situation. Drink goes after a drink when you have lots of food, shots come down your throat way easier with your favorite neighbors. It’s easy to lose yourself in the atmosphere of freedom, when you haven’t had that in a while, too busy, too focused on your son.
Just like you thought, you have your wings again.
You don’t even feel like you’ve gone too far. Not when John accompanies you in the experience, asking if you need another beer, so casually, nudging you with his elbow. Taunting, like he wants to say that you won’t do it anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t, if you weren’t so drunk, but now, when there’s not a single coherent thought in your mind…
Things start to get fuzzy after that beer. You don’t even know when you put the alcohol away in order to dance with Price; you don’t know when his casual touches become something entirely different. It feels like he’s trying to help you, support you, as your legs start to feel more wobbly, but when his hand lands lower, fingers play with the material of your dress—a dress that right now seems like something you’d rather get rid of in the heat of the moment—you feel that something else is in the air.
The “don’t do anything stupid” side is flooded by waves of excitement, by the thought that you feel like you deserve a bit of fun after so many times you told yourself “no”. Maybe that’s why you agree to him walking you to your house, maybe that’s why you invite him over for a little “drink”, to end the success of the neighborhood BBQ that you two “hosted”.
Even if you have enough drinks for a few months, if you’re being honest with yourself.
You really had everything innocent in mind about this. You even came up with the speech about how late it is in your head, but the brakes fail you just in the moment when you stand right in front of him. It’s all happening in slow motion, like a catastrophe that was supposed to happen and everyone knew it from the beginning—but that catastrophe is you kissing him.
He doesn’t say anything, at first. The potential consequences of your actions dawn at you, making you sober up almost immediately, when you see his face. Darkening with every second, making you doubt what you did. Because if it was good, why is he like this?
“I’m so—”
“—Don’t even try.”
And that’s all what he says before kissing you. Kissing you so deep that you forget to breathe for a second, and you just stand still, letting him pick you up like a doll and go upstairs because what can you do about this?
He doesn’t let you do anything by yourself. His lips are everywhere, just like his hands, when he finds the bedroom—you’re already out of your dress and lingerie, but he is fully dressed. You almost want to complain, have a protest that it’s not right, as you waited maybe even more than him for this exact moment, but any word that wants to come out from your mouth is gone when he sinks his finger into you.
It’s slow, at first. Deliberate, making you feel like he’s trying to know you before he does anything more, before he loses himself in you—because that, oh, that happens fast. Faster than you’d thought it would take, but you do not mind that; not in the moment when his two fingers pump into you, while his thumb is taking care of your clit.
The moment his tongue replaces his thumb though, this is the moment when you see stars and all the restraints you had, completely break under the influence of his movement. He knows what he does, how to make you scream, and how to make you beg—because that’s what you want to do, when he suddenly stops.
"John—”
He chuckles, amused. His eyes are glimmering, when he meets yours. "Patience, honey. Patience."
And when you finally come with his name on your lips, you know you have it.
He gives you maybe a fifteen second break—it’s enough for him to strip out of his clothes and pounce at you again; it makes you realize that is the main course you needed from him.
It’s far from casual sex, far from the scenario that you’ve created in your mind. It’s something deeper, as he intertwines fingers with you, insisting that’s the only way you’re gonna do it; and he doesn’t want to hear anything about it. Before you can ask any question, he shushes you with a heated kiss, his hips moving, but at a much slower pace than you expected, like he’s trying to devour the moment. Enjoy it until it lasts, maybe show you something so you’ll miss him in the future.
It’s almost like he wants to prove something here and you let him do it. Because for the first time, it’s nice having someone to take the initiative. Lead you, lure you into the mindset that you need him for that piece of heaven he’s busy to give you. Fixated on that, you plant bloody crescents on his back, not caring about the outcome.
It’s just you and him, at this point. You and him, no one else really matters.
Afterwards, you pay no attention to the fact that he insists on staying. He, in fact, doesn’t say anything; he just states a fact when he puts his big arm around you, squeezing you tight and you just know he won’t leave. You think it’s only right—he’s drunk, after all. It wouldn’t be very neighborly to you to ask him to leave in that state, even if he lives right across the street. And, it wouldn’t be very neighborly to ask him that, considering that he fucked the shit out of you.
Because he'll probably leave in the morning anyway. Everyone leaves before the sunlight, it’s just the way the world is. It was nothing… serious, right?
But, he doesn’t. Oh, of course he doesn’t.
He brings you coffee in the morning, right to your bed, sandwiches on the plate. You can’t quite put it when he had the time to make it, or when he got up—because you’d normally sense someone walking around your house, you’re used to being on high alert. Yet, there is John Price, smiling from ear to ear.
“Your mother called,” John says, which causes your heart to drop immediately. “Said that she’ll drop your son later.”
“...and what did you say?”
“That I’ll tell you this, as soon as you’ll wake up,” he informs you, kissing the top of your head. Like it’s nothing, he sits next to you, pulling out his phone and typing something; as you peek, you can see the news website popping up.
Great. Now even your mother knows about him. It’s not like he is that important right now, but you know your mom a little too well, so it’s easy for you to assume that she’ll make a big thing about him and you’ll have to tell her something to blow her off. And, for now, you’re out of ideas of what exactly you should tell her.
Something other than “it was just casual sex because he’s my hot neighbor”, something other than “I actually don’t know him that well”. Words are spinning in your head; a massive hangover doesn’t help to form anything, so you just nod in acknowledgement, watching him for a moment, bewildered. He acts like he owns this bed, and doesn’t even think of leaving. It’s a potential threat, when you think about it.
You’re not even surprised when you see text from your mother on your phone.
You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.
You decide it’s best not to reply to that, so you just grab the cup of coffee that John made you.
#john price call of duty#john price x reader#john price x you#captain john price x you#captain john price#john price cod#cod x reader#captain price#captain price fanfic#john price#price cod#price x reader#single mom reader#john price smut
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I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.
And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.
After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.
Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.
I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.
I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.
Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.
#obligatory come to Brazil comment so I can meet you Dan#daniel howell#danisnotonfire#(lmao soz)#Dan Howell#We're all doomed#WAD#amazingphil#Phil Lester#Dan and Phil#phan#dnp#sheesh I'm crying now help ahaha#amanda yaps#personal
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Hydrangeas'
Lucifer X Reader
Warning: Hanahaki, Blood mention.
Part 2
Word count: 1,027
Keeping it a secret was the hard part, sure you’re used to keeping things to yourself but avoiding Lucifer. The way he’d look at you with those soft eyes almost lost in desperation and longing, he wanted to talk to you multiple times but you’d turn the other way.
Now a days you barely left your room, when you did all you could hear was Charlie talking about her mother. She has every right you tell yourself, it’s not your fault you’re in this predicament.
It wasn’t her fault Lucifer refused to share what was your relationship to her. It wasn’t her fault Lucifer refused to acknowledge what you where or share measly little kisses and notions that where important to a relationship.
Over the last month you’d come to realise it wasn’t his fault either, you desperately wanted it to be. But you knew better.
Emotions where difficult, hell you barely knew how to control your own emotions. You couldn’t blame him for not knowing how to really understand emotions, you even knew why he was so distant..
The first time he loved someone it cost him everything and in the end she left. You felt stupid, guilt for thinking he didn’t want to love you.. Clearly you where paying the price.
More blood spilt from your lips, you spent most days in your bathroom now. Vomiting and becoming increasingly more pale. What used to use be small amount of petals and blood had turned into a small blossiming flower and harsher amounts of blood spilt.
You where so tired. Looking over to the alarm clock sitting where your body soap was ment to be you saw the time 3:00am. You had made a make shift bed in your bathroom, too tired to move much.
Hearing hushed whispers at your door you slowly collected yourself and dragged your heavy body across your room, it felt like you where dragging chained balls across the floor. You eyes wanting to shut.
Blanket wrapped loosely around you, you opened the door.
Angeldust…Husk… Huh…
“Hello?” you asked your voice voming out quieter and weaker than you had expected, Angel looked at you seemingly as if he had seen a ghost and for the first time you swear you can see Husk looking worried.
“Are you pregnant?” Angel asks, your eyes go wide in shock and take a moment to respond, seeing Husk look perplexed Angel had so confidently and shamelessly ask. “I don’t think so?” you asked raising an eyebrow confused. “Oh thank the heavens-...-Can you say that here?” Angel would say looking around to see if he got any confirmation.
Seeing no one else down the darkened and honestly terrifying hallway in the night you where grateful not wanting people to see you in such a condition.
“Why do you look so awful than?” Once again Angel asked so confidently as if shame just bounced off of him like a bouncy ball. You didn’t know what to really say about it all so you just shrugged, “Maybe a flu? Not to sure- could be contagious though-” you said trying to close the door.
You should have known better when Husk just pushed the door open, both of the two men walking in “Welcome in then” you said wanting to sink into the floor and allow it swallow you whole. You had no strength left to fight them as they investigated your room before finally finding their way into the bathroom where they found your secret out.
“Oh y/n/n…” Angel said pitying you, you hated that. Please anything but pity. You stomach turned more when you saw even Husk was looking at you with the same expression.
“Please just…Don’t tell anyone” You said closing your eyes, desperately wanting to just rest. They agreed, but over the course of the next few days Angel and Husk would alternate getting you food, drinks, medicine to help with the pain (in Angel’s case drugs) and any form of entertainment they could.
They didn’t want to force you to say who it was but could safely assume it wasn’t either of the because while they where there and distracting you, your symptoms seemed to lessen. They put all their free time into making sure your mind was too busy to think about who ever it was that was causing that pain.
You could here people talking outside your door a lot as if they knew something was wrong now but could always hear Husk and Angel telling them you just need some space and just going through a tough time.
It wasn’t really a bad thing.
You just wish they’d lay off on telling you about how Lucifer was bugging them for information on you. You where also surprised how they hadn’t quite figured out who it was. The one time Angel ever asked who it was, was a joke and more with the hope it wasn’t Alastor as there was no hope for that.
Angel was fixated on trying to play cupid while Husk would constantly tell him to lay off, you appreciated them and became better and better friends as this situation continued.
Another month passed and he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see you.. You where asleep.. He was okay with that. His hand came to brush hair away from your face as he looked over you.
He admired you, to him you where art. Something to look at from a distance and not touch, he was terrified of what it could mean, the way you make him feel. He desired you so desperately but was afraid of corrupting you, changing you..Making you leave.
He didn’t notice anything, he was there one moment and gone before you could wake up. You could swear you felt him there but took it as a symptom of the Hanahaki. It was a horrible disorder it was…
That night you couldn’t go back to sleep, eventually sneaking off to Angel and Husk’s room and sleeping between the two as if they where your parents and you had, had a nightmare.
You couldn’t face Lucifer.. Not yet.
Maybe tomorrow.
#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer magne#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#x reader#angst#hanahaki
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complicated // sam golbach
A/N: had an idea like this for quite sometime, and i was finally able to finish this fic. just so everyone's aware, there WILL be a part two. but it might not be in the way you think lol hope you enjoy this fic and lmk what you think :)
prompt: you and sam needed a stress relief, and if you couldn't get it from who you really wanted it from, second best was better than nothing at all. || sam golbach x fem!reader
trigger warning: SMUT, drunk sex, cursing, snc are both single in this fic, angst, finding comfort in each other, friends to lovers, kitchen sex, almost getting caught, mentions of babygirl, good girl, sam is using you and you are using sam
word count: 4020
~~~~~~~~~~~
To say my relationship with Sam and Colby was complicated was a bit of an understatement. But I had no one to blame, really, except for myself.
I had known them for years, being one of the first friends they made once they moved out to LA. We were always friendly with each other, and kept in contact over the years. Then one day, they told me about how they needed an assistant, someone that could help out behind the scenes as well as being in videos occasionally. Things fell into place perfectly, and I signed on to be their assistant. I moved out to Vegas with them, living in an apartment not too far away from their place.
God only knew why I even had my own place since I crashed at their house more often than not.
Our relationship never seemed all that complicated.... until one day. Something clicked in my head, and suddenly I became extremely aware of how attractive Colby was. His eyes, his smile, his voice. Sam, of course, was attractive too. But he always had Kat, so it was never appropriate for me to like him. But Colby... he was basically an eternal bachelor. So, it made total sense for me to like him.
And our friendship was a bit strange to begin with. We were both naturally flirty people, constantly hitting on one another whether sober or drunk; but especially when we were drunk. There were some close encounters with us, especially once we started opening up to one another. I could count on two hands how many times we had kissed, and on one how many times we had almost gone farther than that. But we never finished what we started.
The problem with Colby is I could never tell where we stood entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like I was all he wanted to pay attention to. Other times, he was with someone else, and wouldn't even glance my way. It was strange. He was always close, but somehow an arm's length away.
And some nights, I couldn't stand him. The back and forth, the cat and mouse game... It was exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I just wanted to know how he felt. Exactly. With no add ons or extra shit. But with Colby, it was never that simple.
This was normal for us. But things changed once Sam became single, and both of the boys were out on the prowl. It was like their auras changed, and suddenly I was seeing them through different eyes.
I had no one to blame except myself. But at the same time, I didn't feel guilty.
If he can have fun, so can I.
~~~~
“But did you see him? He was basically humping the air!” Colby laughed, kicking his shoes off.
I followed him and Sam into the kitchen area, our usual hang out spot. “Oh my God, yes! It was almost like your old Vine.”
He groaned, “Please don't bring that-”
“Baby grinnnnndd oooon meeeeeee!” I sang dramatically, completely offkey.
He deadpanned, “I hate you so much.”
I faux gasped, clutching my nonexistent pearls. “Wha? How could you say that? I'm one of your best friends!”
“And you're about to be unemployed if you keep it up.” Colby crossed his arms defiantly.
I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn't.”
He smirked, “Try me.”
I turned away from him, yelling to my other best friend, “Sam! Tell Colby he can't just fire me because I'm making fun of him.”
Sam looked up from his phone, “Uh? I wasn't paying attention to what either of you were saying.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, dropping the topic.
He stared at me innocently, “...Trying to order Taco Bell.”
“Oh my God, Taco Bell.” Colby moaned, closing his eyes, “Oh, fuck.”
I grimaced, “Damn Colby, try not to come in your pants. It's just Taco Bell.”
“I'm sorry, I just get hard for Taco Bell.” Colby admitted casually.
Sam chimed in, “Dude, I get hard for Taco Bell too.”
I scrunched my face, “You guys are weird.”
Colby smiled playfully, walking away, “I'm gonna go change, order my regular?”
“Gotchu, brother.” Sam nodded.
I sighed, leaning against the island. I watched Sam scroll through his phone, clicking away at options for food.
“What do you want?” He asked.
I shrugged, “I don't know. Can I see your phone?”
“Come over here. I don't want to throw my phone.” He commented.
I huffed jokingly, walking over to him, taking it from his hand. "Well, someone's in a shitty mood."
“I'm not in a shitty mood. I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm very hungry. And I wish I ordered Taco Bell in the Uber home.” Sam replied, exacerbated.
“So... a shitty mood?” I repeated.
He grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“Is something the matter?” I questioned, still looking at the Taco Bell menu.
He paused, then finally spoke. “It's been a year.”
I glanced up, “A year?”
“Since we... broke up.” He finally finished.
My eyes widened, putting his phone down on the counter. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sam."
He exhaled, swatting at me, “It's okay.”
“No, we shouldn't have.... gone out tonight.” I half-heartedly argued.
“Why? So I could sulk at home over my failed relationship? I don't think that would have been any better.” He quipped.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“I don't know.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tirelessly, “It just feels weird, you know? I never thought I would be single again, so all of this just feels... off.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling in the love department.” I remarked.
“What? You and your secret pining for Colby not working out for you?” Sam sassed.
I glared, sucking my teeth, You know, sometimes you can be a real ass.”
“What? Because I can see you like Colby and he's just... blind, to it?” He smirked.
“Why don't you tell him that and not me?” I jeered.
“I'm not getting involved with whatever the two of you got going on. I swore off helping his dating life long ago.” He chuckled, putting his hands up defensively.
I scoffed, “You were literally his wingman tonight as he flirted with the waitress!
“And you wouldn't have noticed that if you weren't watching him like a hawk.” He mentioned.
I rolled my eyes, my hands resting on my hips. “Trust me, I wanted to look away. But it was like watching a train crash.”
Sam laughed, “A train crash that ended in him getting her number.”
I exhaled. “Again, the whole 'you're an ass' comment stands.”
“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He rebutted.
“He knows,” I winced, shrugging. “He... has to know. He just pretends it's not real. When there's no one else, that's when he comes to me.”
“And how does that make you feel?” He inquired.
“Like shit. I hate being a second choice.” I muttered.
He hummed, “I know the feeling.”
“Yeah, well at least you got to be first. I don't think that's ever gonna happen with me and him.” I sighed, ignoring my heart dropping at my own words.
Sam, always the optimist, replied, “Maybe that's better in the long run. Maybe you work better as friends.”
“Maybe.... But what about you?” I stared up at him.
“What about me?” He chuckled.
“You really do have a knack for just changing up the conversation so you don't gotta talk about yourself.” I pointed at him, pushing my finger into his chest.
“What do you wanna know?” He asked.
I questioned, looking into his eyes. “How are you feeling? Genuinely.”
“Genuinely... I'm…” He was hesitant, but spoke, “a bit lonely.”
“Have you tried to be with other girls since your break up?” I queried.
Sam nodded, “Yeah. But none of them seemed right. I've realized I don't like being alone.”
“Not many truly do.” I added.
“It just feels odd not having someone there, you know? You wake up for years with the same person over and over again, but once they're gone it's like... something's missing.” He exhaled, his head falling back.
“Well, someone is.” I murmured, leaning against him.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes, “I kinda feel like a teenager again, but in the worst way.”
I turned to him, puzzled. “Really?”
“I can't tell how I feel anymore. Or what I want.” He flipped his hands over, weighing the options, “Am I lonely or just alone? Do I miss her or just the comfort that having her brought?”
I jokingly mimicked him, “Am I finally into someone new or am I just horny?”
“Yeah…” He gave me a strange look, but laughed, “What a weird way to put it, but yeah.”
I pffted, “Oh, I'm sorry. You two just said you get hard for Taco Bell, but I can't say I get horny sometimes?”
“Well you are my employee.” He smiled sarcastically.
“And you're my employer. So it's even worse.” I glared, “I should report you to HR.”
“We don't have HR.” Sam deadpanned.
“HR will have to hear about this... once they exist.” I declared.
He rolled his eyes at me, “Are you really horny that often?”
I inhaled, “Bro, honestly.... it's really bad sometimes.”
“Really? Like how bad?” He pushed.
“The other night I almost called up an ex just to see if he would fuck me.” I admitted, uncomfortable by the memory.
He whistled, “Ooof, that's pretty bad.”
“What about you? How horny do you get?” I asked, almost confused why I was.
He thought for a second, then stated, “Mmm, maybe every couple days.”
I snickered, “Oh that's not too bad. Aren't guys notorious for being constant horn dogs?”
“I guess so, but you already know I'm not like most guys.” He winked.
I shook my head at him, “How unique of you.”
Sam stared at me, his gaze a mix of annoyance and... something else I couldn't place. His voice came out low, almost husky. "Are you horny now?"
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I did my best to play them off. "Maybe a little. What about you?"
He raised his eyebrows, noting my statement, "Maybe just a little."
I nodded softly, my eyes taking in his face. He was really handsome. He always was, even if most of my feelings were for Colby. His eyes were blue, but very different compared to Colby's. Icy and intense in nature. They stared into mine, his eyes flickering down my face to my lips. I mirrored him, looking at his.
They looked awfully nice....
I don't know how, but we must have gotten closer and closer to one another. And suddenly, his lips were on mine. His arm wrapped around my lower back, pulling me towards him. My hands rested on his shoulders, catching my balance. His kiss was soft, but fierce. Our tongues met in a matter of seconds, a gasp falling from my lips when his entered my mouth. He pressed his body into mine, our hips meeting and grazing each other sexually.
Holy shit, I was kissing Sam. And not only that, I was liking it.
Sam must have also came to this realization, that he too was kissing me, because he pulled back abruptly. Shock was written all over his face. “Woah…”
I breathed, leaning back against the island. “W-What was that?”
“I don't know. Wow, um…” He sputtered, taking a step back.
I cleared my throat, “Yeah that was... surprising.”
“You can say that.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.
I exhaled, looking at him. "Guess we are really horny."
He agreed, letting out a light laugh.
We stood there in awkward silence, trying to get our bearings. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized how turned on I had become just making out with him.
I really was in dire need to be fucked. And Sam... seemed willing enough. At least, for a moment there.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness. But something came over the both of us in that moment. We locked eyes, and it became apparent that things were changing. The awkward silence turned erotic, like one of us was waiting to make the next move. I wanted to, but what if I was wrong?
Fuck, I just... needed him.
Sam bit his lip, his eyes tracing my form. Once they landed back on my face, a look came over him. It was intense, his pupils blown wide. He looked eager, determined... hungry.
“Come here.” He mumbled lowly.
That's all I needed to hear.
I rushed up to him, our bodies slamming into one another. Our mouths met hastily, jumping right back into what we had been doing just minutes before. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting low on my hips. He spun us until my back hit the counter in the far corner of the kitchen. His hand slid down to my knee, raising it up so it rested around his hip.
He pulled away quickly, putting some space between us. Are you okay with this?”
I tried catching my breath, “W-wha?”
“Are you okay with this? Do you really want this?” Sam questioned, repeating himself.
“Yeah I do. Why would you ask?” I furrowed my brow.
He scoffed, “Come on, Y/N. We just spent ten minutes talking about how you wanted Colby.”
“Yeah, and you spent the better half of that talking about how you miss your ex.” I retorted. “Obviously, we aren't each other’s.... first choices. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun. Let's just enjoy this, and not make this a big deal.” I snaked my arms around him, pulling him back into me.
“Fine with me.”
He lowered his face to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I lulled my head back, allowing him as much access as he wanted. He pressed his hips into mine, sparks shooting up through my core into my entire body. I whimpered unexpectedly, Sam smiling into my neck at the sound.
I tugged lightly on his hair, pulling his head back. Our lips met again, my hand roaming his chest. I found the first button of his shirt, undoing it. I slowly followed suit with the others, my fingers tracing down his torso as I did.
He grabbed my wrists, stopping my motions. “Shouldn't we go back to my room and do this? Do you wanna get caught by Colby?”
“How about we stop bringing him up? I don't want to be thinking about him right now,” I smiled bitterly. “And anyway, you know as well as I do that man is probably knocked out asleep on his bed. So we'll be good til morning.”
“I don’t think I'm gonna make it that long. Maybe three rounds max.” He joked.
“Oh wow, three rounds?” I gazed up and down at his body, “I'll settle for one right now.”
“Same here.” He kissed me quickly, pulling back for a moment, "but just in case he's not totally asleep, let's not get fully naked."
“Lame. But fine, I guess.” I huffed.
“Trust me, I would love to see all of you, but not now. Not here.” He whispered sweetly.
I giggled, his face and lips pressing into my chest as he lowered my top more. His tongue dragged across my skin, and I felt like I was on fire.
Maybe all of that tequila was a good call, after all. Because God... the feeling between my legs was just growing hotter and wetter by the second. All I wanted was Sam.
Was there a part of me that also wanted Colby? Yes. But that part would have to shut it for now. Because he wasn't here. He didn't choose me. Sam did. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.
Our kisses became harsher, more passionate, as our hips grinded together harder. I could feel him against me, his bulge pressing right against my core. I grazed my hand down his torso, finally resting it on his belt. I undid with my one hand, trying my best.
He laughed, pulling back from me. “I'll get it.”
“Do you have a condom?” I breathed.
“Yeah, in my wallet.” He grabbed it out of his pocket, placing it on the counter.
As he undid his belt, I took the condom out, ripping the package with my teeth. I gazed down at his dick; it strained against his underwear, begging to be touched. I reached out, cupping him softly.
“O-oh, fuck, Y/N.” He choked out a moan, his eyes closing at the feeling.
“Does that feel good, Sammy?” I whispered, biting my lip.
He glared, a smirk on his lips, "You know I hate when you call me that."
I bit back a smile, “But I enjoy it so much.”
He hummed, “And I guess I'll enjoy this.”
Sam closed the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand slid underneath my skirt, palming my sex instantly. I gasped as my wet panties pressed into my aching clit. I shuddered against him, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.
“That's it, babygirl. You're so wet for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy as he spoke.
“I told you I was horny.” I rubbed my palm harder into his cock as he did the same to my clit.
“Yeah, but only a little bit. If this is only you a little horny, I can't imagine what you're like completely turned on.” He pressed into me more, kissing up my neck.
My breath hitched, “Get inside me and you'll find out.”
“Ain't gotta tell me twice.” Sam lowered his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring free. He took the condom from my hand, rolling it down his shaft. I watched in anticipation, direly needing him inside of me.
I yanked my panties down, kicking them off my heels. Sam lined up with my entrance, our eyes meeting again.
His tip teased me, “You ready?”
I nodded, “Please Sam, just-”
He inched his way in, filling me slowly. We both moaned in unison, the sensation hitting us hard. I was so wet and slick, he was able to push all the way in easily. Once our hips met, his hand cupped my face.
I opened my eyes, and his searched mine. I should have felt weird in this moment. Here I was, in my employers' and best friends' kitchen being fucked by one of them while the other was just a room or two away. We could get caught, we could be seen or heard at any moment. I shouldn't have wanted this. Sam was my friend, and not the one I really wanted in my heart.
But my feelings be damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy every second of this. Plus, it's not like I was the only one getting something out of this. I was his second choice, and he was mine.
Sam started bucking his hips, building up to a good rhythm. My hands slid up his back, resting on his shoulder blades. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He was concentrating on his movements, of going deeper into me. His one hand rested on my ass, cupping and gripping it as he thrusted. The other was in my hair, burying deeper into my locks.
“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet.” He uttered, his voice shaking.
“I need more, Sam. Pleaseeee.” I whined.
“I gotchu, babygirl.” He lowered his hips, hitting my sex deeper, “Just like this?”
“Oh my- Fuck! Yes, just like that!” I cursed loudly.
He hushed me, snickering, “Shh, you can't be too loud. You might wake him. Unless that's what you want…”
“What?” I raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly.
He slowed his movements down, tracing my jaw with his thumb.“You wanna get caught, don't you?”
I hated that the idea did excite me. The thoughts swirled in my head; would Colby be upset? Would Sam? The what ifs made my mind wonder.
Sam grabbed my face suddenly, a little rougher than I expected him to be. “Look at me.”
I blinked, staring into his eyes.
“Don't look away from me, okay? I want all of your attention on me and what I'm doing to you. Got it?” He commanded.
His tone was sexy, my body jolting from the sound. “Okay.”
He pecked my lips, “Good girl.”
I gasped as his hand slid down to my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. My body clenched at the sensation, my hips speeding up.
“You need more?” Sam growled.
I hummed, only able to nod. My nails dug into his back as he sped up his movements. He began fucking me harder against the counter. He held me steady, going deeper as he did.
I shuttered, “Fuuuck Sam. You make me feel so full.”
“Yeah? Feel fucking amazing, Y/N.” Sam grunted, “God, if you squeeze around me one more time, I'm gonna-
I smirked against his neck, squeezing his cock inside of me. He halted his hips, raising his head to look at me.
He pushed his dick all the way in, filling me completely. His fingers started rubbing my clit faster and faster. My mouth fell open, my body shaking with pleasure..
Sam glared into my eyes, watching me as I almost came undone. I gripped him hard, panting. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and all he was doing was using his fingers.
“You right there for me?” He hissed.
I whimpered, pleading, “Please let me come.”
“Stay right there for me. Don't come yet.” He demanded.
He picked up his speed again, fucking me faster than he had before. His cock pounded into me repeatedly, adding more to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. I could feel my wetness leak down my thighs. I was so close, unable to hold on for much longer.
“Sam, pleaseeee..... I'm so fucking close.” I mewled.
He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “I'm right there, babygirl. You gonna come for me?”
“Fuck, yes, yes! Please Sam!” I cried, begging.
He slammed his hand down on my mouth, letting out a small laugh. “Don't fucking scream.”
My response was muffled, but he could tell what I said.
He lowered his mouth to my ear, whispering aggressively, “Squeeze around me. Do it, Y/N. Come for me.”
I bucked my hips with abandonment, my head falling back as my cries were silenced by his hand. Sam grunted lowly as he came, his fingers pressing into my clit while he was deep inside of me. My body spasmed, my orgasm hitting me in waves.
Sam fell against me, his hands sliding and wrapping around me in a soft embrace. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths.
The silence was cut suddenly.... by the sound of Colby's door shutting.
We pulled away from one another, glancing at each other with wide eyes. We hastily pulled our clothes back on, fixing ourselves as best we could before Colby appeared.
I turned my back towards the boys, a noticeable blush on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting it the best I could.
“Hey did you guys order Taco Bell yet?” Colby called, his voice coming from the other side of the kitchen island.
“Um, uh. N-no. Not yet.” Sam stammered out, clearing his throat.
Colby sighed dramatically. “Can you hurry up and do it? I'm fucking starving.”
I turned around, finally feeling relaxed enough to join in. “Yeah Sam, hurry up. I'm hungry.”
“I thought you said you were full.” He stared at me with a playful glint in his eye.
“Well,” I jested, cursing him out in my head, “I guess I have a bigger appetite than I thought.”
I gave Colby a quick once over, realizing he was shirtless and in sweatpants, like usual.
Definitely a bigger appetite…
#sam golbach#sam golbach fanfiction#sam golbach fanfic#sam golbach x reader#sam and colby smut#sam golbach fic#sam golbach angst#sam golbach one shot#sam golbach oneshot#colby brock#sam and colby
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I've been obsessed with @demon-of-the-ancient-world's post about Paul bandaging his own wounds after the duel with Feyd ever since I saw it. Partially because I am pretty sure he would not be physically able to do it, but he sure would try. So have a little thing.
Eventually, he is able to stop giving orders and having them fervently obeyed long enough to limp over to the hallway leading out of the war room. With every step, he is figuring out how to better hide the limp. His side still fucking hurts.
Close to the relief of the cool dark hallway, he spots a familiar face. Mari, the medic from his old band of fedaykin. Her gaze falters as he approaches.
"Bandages," he requests. At least his voice is still coming out steady.
She fishes in her pack and pulls out a roll. Holds it out to him like an offering, her fingers retreating as soon as he takes it.
She'd once held him down with a knee on his back while she pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his shoulder. Now she is afraid to touch him.
"More," he rasps.
She produces another roll. That should be enough.
There's a little anteroom just off the main chamber. A few Fremen trail after him as he heads there.
"Guard the door," he says to no one in particular. "No one enters." He shuts them all out.
He doesn't remember what this room was used for, in the brief time that he had lived here. It's empty now, save for a stone platform that runs along one wall at waist height. He drops the rolls of bandages on the platform and sags against it.
As soon as he lets the control slip, a wave of nausea washes over him. His head is pounding, blood drying tacky and itchy on his face, and with every breath it feels like both knives are still inside him.
Focus. He hears it in his mother's voice. She taught him this, how to reach inside himself and master pain. Attention stretching inward, finding the nerve endings that are screaming and shutting them down. He'd practiced with an embroidery needle pricking his finger. This is a bit more than that.
He concentrates until everything still hurts, but not so much that he's going to pass out. Probably. Then he starts working the fastenings of his stillsuit loose.
He gets the shoulder straps released and the moisture seal broken at the main seam, but then he's stuck. Pulling the suit off his left shoulder requires raising his right arm, and that comes with a spike of pain and an abrupt tilt of the floor underneath him. He grabs the edge of the platform and has to spend some more time working on not passing out. Starting with his right shoulder proves no better; twisting his torso in that direction makes his vision gray at the edges.
He's leaning heavily against the stone platform trying to figure out what to do when there's a commotion at the door. He hauls himself into standing up straight just as a young man, wide-eyed and with blood all down the front of his stillsuit, gets shoved into the room. "Forgive me, Lisan al-Gaib," the man says. "The scarfless warmaster insists on entering."
It takes him a minute to realize who he is talking about. "Let him in."
The man retreats, and Gurney steps into the room. "My lord." His gaze takes in the bandages, the pathetic progress he's made on removing his stillsuit. He closes the door behind him. "If I may."
Paul nods.
As soon as Gurney peels the stillsuit back from his injured shoulder, he realizes he never could've done it alone. It's a two-handed job, easing his arm out of the garment, and he needs his one free hand to bite down on to keep from making noise.
Gurney helps him slide the suit down to his waist. His torso is painted with blood but there's nothing to clean it with now. Best to focus on keeping any more from coming out.
Together they bandage his side, then his shoulder. Gurney's hands are not unkind but they are pragmatic, efficient, not flinching away from his wounds but not lingering either. There is no talking save Paul telling him to wrap the bandage tighter.
He remembers a time, long ago. Sitting on a storage chest in the staging room of the parade grounds below Castle Caladan, watching Gurney help his father put his armor on.
There had been a surrender--of whom, he can't remember. He could not have been more than five or six at the time. Generals of the army they'd just defeated coming to sign the armistice agreement, but with enough resentment about it that everyone was nervous, and his father was wearing armor to declare peace.
There had been no talking then, either. Just Gurney moving practically around his father, an extra pair of hands for pauldrons and breastplate and greaves, while his father practiced the speech he was going to give under his breath, making subtle adjustments to tone and emphasis along the way. He doesn't remember the speech, only the feeling, Gurney preparing his father's body while his father prepared himself in other ways.
That is what is happening now.
Once they get his shoulder wrapped as tight as they can, Gurney helps him ease the stillsuit back on. Gurney still needs some direction to get it laced properly, the Fremen way, but having another pair of hands to pull the straps tight over his shoulders means he only has to grit his teeth, not spend time waiting for the room for stop spinning.
He takes a few test steps across the room. The bandage around his ribs restricts his breathing a little, but it makes walking slightly less painful. That will do.
He pulls himself up to his full height, straight-backed, head held high. The posture of an emperor. Ready for battle.
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You know, just read that prompt about Timmy quietly accepting his own death at Jason's command...
I kinda want the opposite.
I want a furious, yelling, fighting Tim, with a major broken pedestal as far as Jason is concerned.
Okay, he can get why Jason blames him, for taking the Robin suit. And maybe Bruce deserves a bit of it too.
But what he absolutely can't and won't forgive is Jason going after Dick. Especially since Dick forgives it so readily, since Dick is the one pleading for forgiveness.
Tim was there. He saw what Jason's death did to all of them. And he can't believe Jason would ever doubt Dick, that Jason would turn up to hurt him worse.
Tim being like... "You know, all the time I was trying to keep them from killing themselves, I kept telling myself, telling them, that you wouldn't want them to hurt like that. But you wanted it, didn't you? Want it. You never wanted them to heal. You never wanted them to move on. Maybe, if you had come back then, come back when B was trying to get himself killed, when Dick was catatonic curled up on your grave and trying to starve himself to death, maybe you'd have been happy at last? Or would you have decided that isn't enough either? Not enough punishment for not making you his absolute top priority for once, just once, in his life?"
And Tim going "I hate you. But I'll pretend to love you, because everyone knows Dick will choose you anytime. And I daren't leave him at your mercy."
I want post-Red Hood Jason working to earn Tim's forgiveness and trust again.
Oh yes, that’s also an interesting take! And one that (I think) comes closer to how he would react in canon. Tim is a spitfire and we love him for it 💚
And while I definitely want to explore this version of him eventually, I think it wouldn’t tie into how the Owl Song verse is set up.
Although if Owl Song does get its continuation, I think there would be some struggling on Tim’s part. Not for himself (never for himself) but for Dick and Bruce. A struggle to make Jason understand that nobody ever wanted to replace him.
In this universe, Tim wouldn’t be able to scrounge up the anger that would result in him hating Jason. Jason did too much for him to do that. He brought Tim into the family fold. Without Jason, Dick would have never accepted him. Jason, though it wasn’t his intention and he genuinely loved Tim, built the stepping stone that resulted in Tim becoming Robin.
Because any other kid trying to be Robin after Jason? Dick wouldn’t have stopped his mad pursuit for anything. Tim having “hatchling” status (ie family) is literally what saved him.
If you look deeper than surface level, the Owl Song verse is pretty twisted in its own way. And Dick could very quickly become a real monster if nobody keeps him grounded at least somewhat. With Jason gone and Bruce being someone Dick now borderline despises— yeah, it’s very lucky that Jason met Tim in school and went “must protect” and had Dick pick up on that. 🦉
#sorry I’m not very coherent rn I think my brain is sorta fried oops#owl song#very dark in its own way#altho we mostly see the happy parts#but the codependency between Jason and Dick is potentially terrifying#the depths of which Bruce is only now starting to grasp for real#talon dick grayson#Jason todd#Tim drake
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𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
SUMMARY: Inwhich people change, and so does summer camp. Teenagers all spending summer together; with y/n falling in love with no other than Jack Hughes, will rivalry's and rules keep them apart? Or will status and no other than Jack himself, ruin everything?
WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT *I do not encourage you to go beyond this point if you are sensitive to any further topics. MINORS DNI - Violence, Smut, Indications to smut, Alcohol & substance use, swearing, cheating, mentions to serious topics, etc.
NOTE: Welcome to the Prologue, which is the shortest part to this story. I apologize for not making it longer, but this prologue gives a tiny view into what the whole story will be without spoiling it. 🤍
MASTERLIST: main m.list
𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚 - 1k+ words
Camp Michigan; my home away from home each summer since the ripe age of 8 years old. Camp Michigan had been where I spent summers, from being a camper, to now, at 16, attending camp and being a camp counselor with others my age who have been attending ever since we were young - and those new. Being at camp had either been the greatest experience of the one month you’d spend out of your two month break. Or the greatest challenge. Each year, a new decision is made. New memories are formed, and even new connections.
Camp michigan consisted of traditions, our annual yearly sleepover in dining hall, the annual late night swim, dodgeball torty - which always included someone getting injured from how competitive some people would be - the annual bonfire to kick-off the beginning, and my favorite, the treehouse, not so much a tradition, but something I created when I was younger. Only in a place where me and a few other members knew of. It was special, and I would always find myself there whenever I needed a break or a good sleep.
Each year it was one or the other, no inbetween, most of the years I've spent attending camp ever since the age of 8 years old, I found myself leaving with memories to last a life time, having spent my summers making them the greatest experiences of my entire life. That was, until the summer i turned 16, one whole year ago from right now; id been 15, getting on the bus for summer camp, my birthday slowly approaching, which had always been spent at camp, the staff would even get the other campers to help with baking a cake; even though each time it would end up in someone’s face, or awfully decorated, it still meant everything to me. We’d even have a huge party to celebrate; as if most of the summer hadn’t already consisted of fun activities, it was another added to the long list.
That was, until the summer I turned 16.
On my 16th birthday, August 14th, nothing. I mean nothing, no cake, no party, no anything. It was like any other day at camp. Except most of my day had been spent waiting around in my cabin for someone to come tell me it was all some joke, or that a surprise party was being held and they wanted to keep everything a secret. The most I'd gotten was a couple of ‘happy birthdays’ from my close friends, and even some random kids who’d I’d been with for years.
It was my 16th birthday - my sweet 16 at that. And I spent it cooped up in a cabin for most of the day, the night ending with some stupid activity no other than Jack Hughes and his weird counselor group had planned. Which had pissed me off more than anticipated. And I snapped at him. Like a full blown yelling match, he mocked me, and made me cry on my own birthday; we also got in trouble, well, I did. Almost got sent home, actually. From the moment he stepped foot to camp, he went by calling you a series of names you’d rather not elaborate on. He was only older than you by a few months, yet he acted like he had been ancient.
Jack Hughes first summer at camp michigan, was last summer. Yet he’d made friends with almost everyone, except for me and my counselor group. It was an unspoken rivalry that went back - these was always the girls group, and the guys group. Always having a leader; being me for my girls, and Jack for his boys. He’d claimed that title almost immediately, somehow robbing my good friend miles of his seniority, which was supposed to mean he was leader. But no, ‘hot shot Hughes’ flew in, having everything handed to the son of a bitch. I’ve never hated anyone more; rivalry was so on.
He was almost insufferable, I’d always assume his overconfident cocky-act was from his popular hockey captain status which he said he held at school. I couldn’t have cared less, about him or his hockey status. He’d go around acting like he owned the place when he hadn’t even been there a week. The staff loved him, but you were pretty sure that was only because of his ‘charm’, or his flirty attitude, at first, most of your cabin crew had also been head over heels for the new hot boy, but you quickly shut them down with any idea of anything happening between any of cabin A with Cabin B. Rules were rules and a rivalry was a rivalry.
I never did know if he knew it had been your birthday that day, if he planned what he had just because he wanted to make your life a living hell, or if he just genuinely did not know. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever get that answer, and over time I cared less. I’d been too focused on the summer ahead of you and that only. Your 17th would be spent like any other this year. I made sure to plan in advance, for my own sake anyway. This was going to be one of my last years at the camp, I’d be graduating the school year to come, and be moving off to whatever was planned for myself next, so some stupid boys weren’t about to ruin that for me. No matter how many names, or flirtatious things Jack would shoot at me, i had no intent of falling for his fuck boy acts.
For that matter, my good friend, and cabin member, Lacey, had been secretly seeing one of the guys from B cabin, this past summer. Joey. It was well known between the girls cabin, although the boys not so much. A few other girls had spent time with some of the boys, but none went any further in the way Lacey had it out with Joey. A part of me only dreamed of the cliche rivalry love story, yet with the current circumstances, I’d been almost positive that was never, ever going to happen.
Seriously. Imagine, Jack Hughes, and me?
Pffft.
#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fanfic#jack hughes fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#luke hughes#quinn hughes#nhl players#trevor zegras#cole caufield#NHL fanfic#hockey fanfiction#hockey fandom#hockey imagine#hockey fic rec#nhl smut#nhl hockey#jack hughes x y/n#hughes brothers
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your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way
thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things
seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time
tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars
seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing
jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”
joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind
jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”
soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier
wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams
jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well
seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep
mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions
minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?
hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”
seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one
chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”
#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen blurbs#seventeen fluff#seungcheol scenarios#jeonghan scenarios#joshua scenarios#jun scenarios#soonyoung scenarios#wonwoo scenarios#jihoon scenarios#seokmin scenarios#mingyu scenarios#minghao scenarios#hansol scenarios#seungkwan scenarios#chan scenarios
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Alright so last ask!
Can you do a Luffy x fem reader?
Set in the whole cake arc where Luffy met one of big mom daughter aka reader
Reader who ate the Cupid Cupid fruit that allows them to shoot love or lust arrows
Basically reader and Luffy fight a bit before kidnapping her and forcing her to help him to rescue sanji
Katakuri who is absolutely furious and trying to get his sister back but with no avail
Reader who love at first sight at Luffy and basically does everything he ask
Luffy who loves reader but doesn't know how to say it
Reader in the end joins the straw hat pirates as their strategist
(Can you also base reader off this)
The angel wings representing love while the demon wings represent lust
Don't forget to eat, sleep, and drink! Have a good day!
-You stared down at this strange man, who was one of the few responsible for ruining such a lovely wedding of one of your big sisters, a glare on your face.
-You were unaware of the plot to kill the groom and his family, as that was reserved for the stronger members of the family, while you were on the lower end of strength.
-Your Devil Fruit ability could be dangerous if used incorrectly, which made many wary of you, except for your family of course, who know that you would never use your ability on any of them, as you knew better.
-Your wings were flapping, one set that looked like fluffy feathers, the other set like bat wings, symbolizing your abilities to bestow either love or lust, with your Cupid-Cupid Devil Fruit; you would shoot arrows at others which usually would make them stop, for one reason or another.
-You were trying to shoot Luffy with a love arrow, your normal strategy, to make him fall in love with you so you could make him stop so he could be captured, then you would release the love hold on him with a nullification arrow.
-However, with his Haki he was able to dodge all of your arrows with ease, frustrating you, but it just spurned you on to try even harder!
-Luffy’s arm shot up around you, wrapping you in a coil before he pulled you down while shouting, “Stop shooting at me!!” you cried out, worried he was going to hurt you like he had done to your other siblings, but you were shocked when he leapt off the massive platform with you.
-You heard Katakuri, “Y/N!!” you called out to your brother, unable to get free before Luffy’s coil removed itself from you and he hugged you close, telling you to land so he could go and save Sanji!
-You were completely stiff, stunned by his sudden embrace, you had never been held like this before, as you never let anyone get close to you like this, as they would be affected by your abilities by touching you.
-However, seeing Luffy hugging you so close and not being affected made you realize how much he cared for his crew, his family. You remember only being used as a tool by your own family, to make connections with marriage partners, to make things smoother to plan, and besides Katakuri, you had never felt true love.
-Hearts quickly appeared in your eyes as you hugged Luffy close, “Of course, my husband!” he chose to ignore you as you took off flying, taking Luffy to safety.
-You were a bit annoying, wanting to hold hands with him, which he couldn’t understand why, but when he watched you shoot some of the allies to your mother, he knew you were on his side now, and that’s all that mattered!
-When you and Luffy were pulled into a mirror by Brulee and Katakuri, you tried to keep your brother from hurting your future husband, standing between them, “No big brother- Luffy is different! He is the man I love!”
-Luffy had to lunge, tackling you out of the way when Katakuri tried to backhand you, thinking you were being foolish, which quickly brought you to tears, seeing what he had tried to do before he started fighting with Luffy.
-You and Brulee were both stunned in shock by the end of their fight, seeing that Luffy had beaten Katakuri, something Brulee told everyone. However, it was when Katakuri spoke to you that you were even more shocked, “You were right Y/N. I’m sorry.”
-You beamed, hearing his apology, instantly forgiving him before Luffy grabbed onto you and you helped him get to Sanji before getting them both to the ship, helping them escape, using your knowledge of your siblings to avoid the incoming attacks.
-Once you were all free, Nami inquired on you who were, and Luffy introduced you, “This is one of Big Mom’s daughters, Y/N- and she’s going to be my queen of the pirates!!”
-You held your hands to your mouth, stunned by the dramatic open proposal, which was shocking to the others as well, as Sanji collapsed, in anguish that he lost out a chance to be married, but there were too many red flags with Pudding, you seemed nice, something Nami had to agree on as you leapt into Luffy’s arms, cheering that you were elated to be by his side.
-You joined the Straw Hats, much to your family’s shock, minus Brulee and Katakuri, who approved of you being with Luffy, knowing that he was a good man for you, and you became the strategist of the Straw Hats, able to plan out attacks as well as defensive maneuvers, and you did it all by your future husband’s side.
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 4/34 - phone battery
[Read on AO3]
After a bit of a drought of decent cases, their latest, honest to goodness X-File was a welcome distraction. It hadn’t taken too long to wrap up either, which was a double win for Scully, who could only handle so many nights in a dilapidated motel room in a row. With the case now solved, more or less, all that remained for the morning was a bit of paperwork and a drive to the nearest airport to get back home.
“Your mom called me last night,” Mulder says, sitting in the driver’s seat of their rental car.
“Last night?” Scully asks, furrowing her brows. “What for?”
“It was when we got back to the motel, after your phone battery went dead. I told her to give it a few minutes and try again, give you a chance to get it charged.”
Scully doesn’t respond immediately, and when Mulder turns to look at her, he sees a puzzled look on her face, a crease forming between her brows.
“She didn’t call you?” he asks, matching her expression and turning his attention back to the road.
“No,” Scully answers, concern marring her features. “What did she say?”
“I think she was going to ask you something about Christmas, figuring out plans or something,” he says. “I did mention we were on a case, maybe she decided she’ll just call when you get back and aren’t busy.”
“Probably,” Scully says, then sits back in the passenger seat and gazes out the window at the passing scenery.
He steals another glance at her, thinking about the heavy weight that hung over his brief conversation with his future mother-in-law on the phone the night before. It really had been a short talk, with her asking if he knew where Scully (rather, Dana) was, and then how he’s been doing since his unwitting brain surgery.
He made polite conversation, of course, but keeping such a gigantic secret from a woman like Margaret Scully has a way of making one feel guilty for things they aren’t even guilty of. If the call had gone on much longer, he fears he would have started confessing like a Catholic over the phone, and he couldn’t have that.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “You think we should tell her about us?” then quickly corrects, “I mean– the adoption, eloping…”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Not yet,” she answers.
He shoots her another glance—only for a moment—but to be honest, that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting.
“I know you said you don’t want a big wedding or anything, but if you want to tell her, you can. I doubt she’d give you any real trouble for it,” he reasons, having a hard time believing Mrs. Scully would be anything but supportive once everything has been explained to her.
“It’s not that. I just—” she struggles to explain. “With Emily, it was so stressful and confusing for her. I don’t want to put her through more of that unless…”
Ah.
He reaches over and places his hand on top of hers, which rests on her knee.
“Unless you’re absolutely sure this is going to work out,” he finishes, and she nods, grateful she doesn’t have to conjure the words herself.
“There are so many variables at play here, Mulder. Any one of them could go wrong,” she says. He knows she’s mentally making a list, calculating how likely each factor is to throw a wrench in their plans. She’d be here a while if she wanted to plan for every possibility, but that won’t stop her from trying, he knows.
He squeezes her hand once. “I hope you know that whatever happens, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”
That earns a small smile, and she looks down at her lap in that way that she thinks hides her blush from him. Thankfully, it does no such thing.
“No, the Mulder variable is one that I have on good authority is fairly constant,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Oh? And are those findings available in a peer-reviewed journal article, Dr. Scully?” he teases back. “If you don’t cite your sources, I’m afraid your claims may be dismissed as unsubstantiated by the wider scientific community.”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she says, “I’m still working on gathering all my evidence. Research takes time, you know.”
“Maybe run some more tests,” he suggests.
She reaches out, running a hand through his hair, gently brushing over the place where his head had been drilled into.
“I’ll try to keep it less invasive than your previous experiences,” she teases, a small smile pulling at her lips.
He breathes out a laugh, forcing his focus back on the road instead of on the feeling of her nimble fingers tousling his hair.
-.-.-
Their discussion picks up again on the plane, perhaps serving as a distraction for his partner who isn’t all that fond of flying.
“You agree with me, don’t you?” she asks.
He gives her a look, his best impression of the Skeptical Scully Brow.
“Is that a blanket statement? Because in general, no, I think that would be factually incorrect, Scully, that’s kind of our whole thing.”
“I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes, “that we should wait to tell people. At least my family.”
He turns toward her. That she’s bringing this up again shows that it’s something she’s really worried about. If it’s reassurance she needs, he’s happy to give it to her.
“Sure, Scully. You know them best.” Really it isn’t his place to decide this, but if she’s asking, maybe she wants it to be. They will, in a way, be his family too if all this works out.
She takes a deep breath, her usual flying anxiety momentarily forgotten in favor of whatever new kind of anxiety this was. “I just mean– If we even get approved, and if we get matched with someone… there’s always a chance the birth mother changes her mind at the last minute,” she says, talking through the scenario aloud. “This will be hard enough with just you and I to worry about. I don’t want to have to think about protecting my mother from heartbreak on top of everything else.”
He has to suppress a sigh on hearing her pessimistic view of what he’s hoping will be a very joyous process. But then again, this is what he loves about her. She’s the yin to his yang. The day to his night. Together, they cover all their bases, leaving no stone unturned in their search for the truth. Why should this be any different? He won’t get very far on nothing but blind hope. She’s here to ensure they are prepared for everything, come what may. Unfortunately, that means her taking on an extra burden of worry, one he hopes he might help alleviate.
“We can wait to tell them,” he vows, hoping that will put a stop to her spiraling. “I’m with you on this, don’t forget. We’re a team.”
She leans back, her head resting against the back of her seat, a sign he knows means she’s relaxing a little.
Success.
Still, the idea of telling no one at all feels dangerous. They need to have someone in their corner besides each other, for a whole slew of reasons. Character witness, taking time off work, filing necessary paperwork so that everything looks totally above board when they make it official… Really, there’s only one person he feels they have to tell, and that’s—
“What about Skinner?”
She turns her head to look at him, confusion playing on her face. “What about him?”
“I think we should tell him. Sooner than later.”
Maybe he should have planned out his pitch a little better. He can tell she’s not immediately drawn to the idea. He should have made up a list of reasons why it is a good plan, not just blurted out his half-formed thought before it was ready.
“But Mulder, what if they split us up?”
He turns in his seat, his attention intensifying. “That’s why we only tell Skinner. Ask him to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.” She’s gonna need more than that. Think! Tap into those persuasive skills! "But, Scully, there’s going to be times we might have to take an afternoon off for a meeting or something. It will be easier if he knows.”
His focused gaze implores her to consider it.
“I won’t let him split us up. It won’t happen.”
He can’t promise that, she knows, but they know Skinner well enough by now, don’t they? Sure, there may have been times when their trust in him wasn’t so strong, but it has been years now. Surely he would keep this to himself if they asked, right?
“Okay. You’re right…” she says tentatively, turning over his proposition in her head. “Just Skinner. No one else?”
His pinkie finger finds its way to hers and nudges it playfully. When she looks up at him, he smiles.
“Just you, me, and our big, bald boss makes three.”
~~~
SURPRISE - that was a short chapter, so here's another to make up for it
Chapter 5/34 - rulebook
“Hold on, go back to the IVF,” the follically challenged Assistant Director says, his hands tented in front of him. His brows furrow in concentration, and he breathes deeply through his nose, looking up at the two agents across the desk from him. “In vitro fertilization, right? So you’re saying—”
“Agent Mulder and I attempted to conceive a child through scientific means last year, yes.”
Scully’s answer is straightforward, perhaps hoping it will be like ripping off a band-aid. Judging by his stoic reaction, his pursed lips, the vein popping out of his forehead… her nonchalance does not really soften the blow.
His gruff voice returns after a moment of staring at them, his expression unreadable. “Right. Okay. Just wanted to make sure I was understanding.”
“It was unsuccessful,” Scully offers, continuing. “The ova that were fertilized unfortunately were not viable, probably due to the inconsistent storage conditions in which Mulder found them.”
“Yes, that– that’s where you lost me. The part about your abduction and then the cancer…” He sets a hand on top of one of the files Mulder had brought him, as if any of the words in that folder made a lick of sense to him.
“Believe me, sir, it’s just about as confusing to us as it is to you,” Mulder says.
Skinner clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“Well, I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Agent Scully. I suppose that also explains the existence of… well…”
Emily. A story he never had fully explained.
“Yes, Emily was somehow part of all this. She was an experiment, never meant for me to find.”
Skinner balls his hand into a fist, tamping down the rage he feels bubbling up inside. “These men need to pay. What they’ve done to you– to you both… ”
“With all due respect, sir,” Mulder breaks in, “we’re not here to talk about revenge. We’re just trying to move forward.”
That’s… a surprisingly healthy outlook, coming from Mulder. What had Scully done to him? Whatever it was, the man owed her a heckuva lot more than whatever her last birthday and Christmas gifts had been.
“Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “So, what is it that you were asking for?”
The two basement-dwelling agents glance at each other, words being passed unspoken between them. It’s unnerving, the way they do that. Downright spooky.
Evidently, they come to the decision that it’s Mulder who should say the next part.
“Well, since we’re looking into adoption, sir, we thought it might be easier if we got married.”
Silence fills the room, an inadvertent staredown commencing between all parties.
“Married.”
Mulder nods. “That’s right.”
Scully is sitting bolt upright in her chair, a picture of professionalism on the surface, but in conjunction with the topic of discussion, it feels distinctly forced. Mulder, on the other hand, is bouncing his knee so severely that it’s a wonder he hasn’t worn a hole in the carpet below him yet.
“We just don’t want there to be any issues here on the bureaucratic side of things, if at all possible,” Mulder adds. “In fact, we’d prefer to keep this quiet, at least until we know if this will work.”
Skinner presses his lips together, shifting his gaze between them once again.
“Well, your personal relationship will have to be disclosed to HR at some point. I can pull some strings—”
“Sir—”
“Although it would have been good to know a little earlier on. Say, around the time you were making some pretty serious medical decisions that may have affected your ability to do your jobs…”
“Sir, I—”
Mulder’s attempts to interrupt go unnoticed.
“You know, I have to commend you. You’ve really kept up appearances around here. I had my suspicions, of course, but you continued on like normal, I almost wouldn’t have guessed—”
“Sir, we’re not actually… together.” Finally, Mulder is able to get the words out, leaving an awkward hush in their wake.
Skinner leans forward, turning his ear toward the younger man as if he hadn’t heard him the first time. “What do you mean?”
A pink tinge blooms on Mulder’s cheeks. “We’re not– Sir, this marriage is a formality, to make the application process easier and hopefully give us better chances of getting approved.”
“A formality,” Skinner repeats.
“Yes. We– We’re just trying to do whatever’s best to improve the odds that this works out.”
One of these days he’s just going to disappear to Cancún. Seriously, he’ll do it. This can’t be good for his health. He suppresses a groan, storing up a massive eye roll for whenever these two idiots leave the room. Only they could think up something like getting married and adopting a child platonically . Not to mention everything else they’d evidently been doing when left to their own devices.
“Right. That’s– Okay, sure. So then, the IVF…”
Scully pipes up. “I asked Mulder, and he agreed to help me.”
“As a friend?” He feels like this bears clarification.
“Is there something against that in the rulebook?” Mulder asks challengingly.
The look he gives them in return is withering. “I don’t think there’s a rulebook for all the insane stuff you two get up to, but I might have to make one, after this.” The two of them have the decency to look chastised at this, though he knows from experience it will do no good in the long run. “You know this is not normal, right?”
“Come on, Skinner, when have I ever been referred to as normal?” Mulder laughs.
“ You , I might expect this from,” he says, pointing a finger in his direction. “It’s Agent Scully that surprises me. You’ve really done a number on her, haven’t you?”
He takes a little solace in the fact that all this IVF business happened under Kersh’s watch, not his own. Imagine if it had worked…
“Will you help us or not, sir?” Scully asks, impatience beginning to make her uneasy in her seat.
He waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. I thought this day might come at some point, but… definitely not like this.” His mind is wandering already, thinking back to any signs he might have missed, things that may have gone wrong in his career to lead him to this exact moment. “You have my blessing, or whatever it is you came to get from me. You need anything, just ask.”
Scully lets out a sigh, and her shoulders visibly relax.
Mulder moves to stand without another moment’s hesitation, bouncing up with far more energy than a man of his age should have. “Thank you, sir. I promise, this is the last time we ask you to cover for us.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Mulder,” Skinner warns, though his words contain no malice. If anything, he’s resigned.
As much as these two make him tear his hair out (what little he has left), he holds a certain fondness for them that is undeniable.
“And, hey– I’m happy for you. Seriously. The things I’ve seen you go through over the years, everything you’ve lost… You deserve this. Even if I don’t understand it.”
Mulder holds out a hand for him to shake. “Skinner. Thank you. Really.”
He nods. “Good luck with everything. And if you need any advice on adoption, my ex-wife’s sister has gone through it before. I can get you in touch, if you want.”
“We’d really appreciate that.”
They’re gone before he knows it, heads bent toward each other in secretive conversation before they’re even out of sight.
Skinner lets out the eye roll from earlier, leaning back in his desk chair in exhaustion.
They’d figure it out sooner or later, of that he is certain. It’s just taking a little longer than he expected, that’s all.
-.-.-
"I want to get married Christmas Eve."
The proposition comes out of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon, and Mulder nearly spills his coffee mug all over his desk instead of setting it down gently like he was trying to do.
"Next week?" he sputters, the burning liquid nearly going down the wrong pipe.
She purses her lips. "...That's when Christmas is, yeah Mulder."
"I knew there was a reason that guy on the street corner with the bell was dressed as Santa Claus," he jokes, wiping a few splattered droplets of coffee from his tie.
"Mulder..."
"Okay, okay,” he says, dropping the jokester act. “But don't you want to spend the day with your family?" he asks.
She shrugs. "Maybe.” Her eyes are locked on the desk in front of her, pointedly avoiding his concerned look. “I'll go for a little while, but they don't... understand me like they used to. Maybe it's just me, but when I'm with them for too long, I get this sense that they're... afraid of me. Or somehow uncomfortable around me. Ever since Emily..."
He stops her. "That's their problem, Scully. I'm sure they don't mean it."
"I know, it's just... hard."
He bites down on his bottom lip to hold back the slew of words he'd like to say to Bill Scully, Jr. He knows that's not what Scully needs right now, as much as it would make him feel better to have a go at him.
"Is that why you went ghostbusting with me last Christmas?" he asks, his heart softening at the thought.
"I don't know, maybe a little,” she shrugs. “It helped get my mind off things." She looks embarrassed to admit such a thing, but it only serves to make his heart twist in his chest.
"Well, too bad we don't have more time to plan. Could have had a Christmas Eve wedding in a haunted house," he deadpans.
This succeeds in getting her to look at him, and she emits a nervous giggle he doesn't often hear. "Absolutely not.”
He grins, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Come on, don't you think Maurice and Lyda would like to know we’re getting married? I'm sure they'd have a field day with all our issues from the past year."
"Stop it, that didn't really happen."
"Well even if it didn't, I found it enlightening."
"Good for you. No, the courthouse will be fine."
They fall silent, the jovial atmosphere settling.
"And you don't want to invite your family?” he asks, clarifying. "Since they'll be in town?"
She shakes her head. "No, I think it should be just us."
Just us. He likes the sound of that. But still, one problem remains—
"Alright, so let me get this straight... you want to get married—to me—the one day a year your brother is in town? Are you trying to get me killed?"
Her lips quirk up at the corners. "He won't find out, Mulder."
"You like the danger of it, don't you?” he teases, leaning toward her. “You're a rebel at heart. I knew it. Probably snuck out every night in high school to run around with Johnny from the football team."
She stares at him unwaveringly, not dignifying him with a response. "Is it a yes or a no?" she asks, arms crossed in front of her.
He sobers, meeting her eyes with startling honesty. "I'll marry you any day of the year, Scully,” he says, and it's the truth. It has been the truth for years now. “Just remind me to wear a cup in case he figures it out."
"You're ridiculous."
-.-.-
The next week passes in a blur. Arrangements are made, paperwork acquired, work winds down for the holidays, and for once, Mulder isn't bored out of his mind this time of year.
"I was thinking… for tomorrow..." her voice crackles over the phone.
"Not having second thoughts, are you?" Mulder asks, his tone light and teasing despite the tinge of genuine concern he tamps down.
"No, of course not,” she assures him. “I was thinking, I'll need an excuse to leave Christmas at my mom's."
"No problem,” he says with a shrug. “I'll give you a call and make up some case we have to work."
He hears her sigh and gets the distinct impression that his suggestion was somehow wrong. "I can't ask you to do that,” she says. “They already blame you for last year."
"Gee, that's reassuring,” he chuckles, leaning back on his leather sofa. He adjusts the phone cradle on his chest, stretching the power cord to its limits.
"Not all of them, but, you know—"
"Bill."
"Yeah."
He waits for a second, but when she offers no further thoughts, he asks, "Then what do you suggest?"
She waits a moment more before responding.
"Before you say anything, just listen to what I have to say…”
Oh boy.
"Why does that not give me a good feeling?" he muses aloud, his fingers twirling and tangling with the cord on the phone.
"The only way for you to be in the clear is if you're... with me, when we get called away."
"Scully—"
"We can just leave straight from her house, it's closer anyway."
"All excellent points, except for one thing..."
"Skinner can call us in."
Silence. He wants to argue but he can't.
"He already knows what's happening, I'm sure he'd be happy to help us," she reasons.
"I'm not gonna be able to talk myself out of this, am I?" he asks, a wry smile on his face. He's all out of excuses.
"Mulder, if this works out... Well, there's a chance that by this time next year, we'll be a... family... of some sort, anyway. You might have to get used to it."
The word family sends a thrill right through him. He never thought he'd have one of those again. Never in a million years.
"You're right,” he says regretfully, running a hand over his face. “And it's not that I don't like your family, Scully, it's just I'm not sure they like me back."
"My mom loves you,” she says decisively. “And we'll only be there a few hours anyway. The courthouse closes early for the holiday."
He closes his eyes. He can't believe he's about to agree to this.
"Alright, I'll go. Just so you can get your thrill in doing something wildly irresponsible and rebellious right under your mother's nose."
She protests, "That's not why I—"
"I know you, Scully,” he teases. “You're not as strait-laced as you like to pretend."
After they hang up, Mulder stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. His stomach flutters with nerves, unrelated to his worries about crashing a family gathering in the morning.
‘I am getting married tomorrow,’ he thinks. To Dana Scully.
It's a Christmas miracle.
~~~
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 @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson
#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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Hellooo, this is a Tokyo Rev ask and I was really interested in the Mikey post u made abt him as a bf realistically since canonically he’s one of the top worst. So i was wondering, what do you think of Keisuke Baji taking number 1 place as best lover? 👀
Hello! Baji is an angel despite his wild personality. I see him as a watchdog, like in that panel in the last timeline when Takemichi meets Mikey and acts like a puppy. He's not interested in a relationship right now, but that doesn't mean he's immune to falling in love or anything.
After doing this, he probably be that guy who stands silently next to his crush in class while blushing, but his scary face makes your subconscious ignore that he's turning red as a tomato. He will probably try 10 times harder to be a good student to impress his crush.
He gets upset with himself when you find out he's in a gang, he thinks it will push you away (it would push me away, but it depends on the person).
He is faithful, either you betray him or one of you stops loving the other, because only then will the love relationship with him end. I feel like he wouldn't want you to get hurt in any way, so he's always tried to hide that he's in a gang to avoid getting in trouble.
Someone like Baji, who despite being aggressive is at the same time affectionate in his own way, and who is willing to do things that many people wouldn't do like suicide is proof that he is not only a good boyfriend, but also a good friend ...actually he's good at everything.
You probably met him thanks to stray animals, or you always fed them or you always went to their pet store. He would probably arrive talking to you about cats and the conversation would flow. Every day you went there to feed the cats and he does that too, not because of you, but because of the cats. But over time it becomes attached to you and ends up appearing there for both you and the cats.
He's the type to behave like an older brother. He doesn't get jealous, he just gets suspicious when someone approaches you. As already stated in the character's book, Baji prefers to resort to violence and before a conversation, this wouldn't change much when you were dating; If he feels like hitting someone who takes up a lot of his time, just prepare your emergency kit to take care of the person he hits later.
I see him declaring himself on an important day like Valentine's Day, Christmas or New Year's, his declaration would have been 100% his and 50% Chifuyu and Ryusei's advice. Baji, like Chifuyu, reads manga, I don't remember if it was here which category he reads, but I'm sure he was inspired by it...
Obviously everything would go wrong. Some delinquent behind him trying to fight, or him simply having brain problems because he forgot what he was going to say. In the end he was only able to declare himself even in serious moments, like moments of near death where he said something like:
"don't give up on me yet, damn it! I haven't even had time to tell you how I feel!"
That alone would be enough for days later for you to talk and resolve the matter and he would simply have to say everything. But that would take years...Baji is a man of steps when it comes to love.
First step would be trust, second would be time, third would be moments together, fourth would be denial of feelings towards you, fifth would be denial and disgust at himself for having these feelings for you, sixth would finally be acceptance of his feelings for you, seventh would be his mental adaptation to all of this, eighth would be gathering courage, and ninth would finally be his declaration. But make no mistake, each stage takes time, in the end only the fourth stage would take a few years.
Baji isn't the physical type either, in fact most Asians aren't very into physical affection. But a hug from him wouldn't bother him, just raise a question in his head.
Him trying hard not to see his mother cry, killing himself for Kazutora is proof that this man would do whatever he could to keep you happy.
He would probably, like Draken, neglect you. the only way to have a perfect relationship with him is to be like him, wild and involved with Toman. Not only would it bring you closer together, but it wouldn't leave you as attention-hungry as our poor Emma.🥺
And these are my thoughts on Baji, if there is anyone with other opinions please let me know, I like talking about it. each person has a different point of view. I was never very close to him, so I only remember a few things...
#tokyo revengers x reader#tokrev x reader#tokyo revengers#baji keisuke#baji x reader#baji x you#tokrev
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forever winter
Lloyd’s plans were always made around the bigger picture, but the five of them had always looked to Kai to make split second decisions.
‘And now he’s gone.’
When they finally arrived back at the monastery, all Nya could feel was numbness.
Back in Cloud Kingdom, she hadn't been able to hold back her tears as she cried on Wyldfyre's shoulder, but now she just felt nothing; in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if this was how Kai had felt when she merged with the ocean.
When she finally brought her vision away from the intricate stonework of the courtyard, she found herself swimming in a sea of somber faces but none of their questioning glances were fixated on her.
All of their eyes were silently pleading with Lloyd for answers, but he never turned around to rattle off some semblance of a plan as he silently opened the sliding door to his room and shut it behind him.
Lloyd's plans were always made around the bigger picture, but the five of them had always looked to Kai to make split second decisions.
'And now he's gone.'
"I'm gonna…" Cole's voice broke through the deafening silence, even if he was only speaking just above a whisper to keep his own tears from breaking free, "gonna go find Geo and tell him about Bonzle."
"I will accompany you." Nya watched as Zane reassuringly squeezed Cole's hand before the two of them made their way inside, leaving her alone with the others and their sadness filled glances making their way to her.
"Nya?"
"We were up all night," she finally forced her tongue to move and hoped that her voice didn't sound strangled before she focused in on Arin as she remembered how she and Lloyd had found him flat on his back after the Bounty crashed, "is anyone hurt?"
When they all shook their heads "no", she knew that there would be more extensive prodding later from both her as well as Zane, but for now, since no one was actively bleeding or showing concussion symptoms, she dropped it.
"Okay, then we all need to get some sleep. It has been a very long week," Nya explained even though she was fully aware that the likelihood of them actually going to sleep was non-existent even if they did go to their bedrooms.
"Hey, Nya?" Arin asked quietly after Sora, WyldFyre and Riyu disappeared inside the walls of the monastery.
"Yes?"
"I…I'm really sorry, about Kai. If I had just kept Bonzle safe-"
"Don't even start," she cut him off, resting her palms on his shoulders, "this was not your fault, or Lloyd's fault, or Riyu's fault, or Cole's fault. The only person to blame for this is Ras."
"But…" He turned away from her with a sniffle, her eyes stayed completely dry no matter how much she wanted to cry.
"Here, come sit," she insisted, letting go of his shoulders and leading him to the stone steps before sitting down and looking up at the clouds slowly rolling across the sky, "you know that Kai was the one who raised me?"
"No…" another sniffled as he rubbed his orange sleeve over his face, "the only ninja whose family is common knowledge is Lloyd."
"Well, you know about the elemental masters fighting in the serpentine wars, right?" She was met with a nod, "shortly after, they were betrayed by the elemental masters of time, so Master Wu came to our parents, who were members of the elemental alliance, to make four blades out of Chronosteel. It can absorb elemental powers."
"Kreel had some of that stuff a while back in her junkyard, Sora used it to make hers, Cole's and Kai's mechs."
"But when Master Wu and Garmadon threw the blades into a temporal vortex, the elemental masters of time went after them. One of them, Acronix, was lost for forty years and the other one, Krux, he captured our parents and forced them to equip their army of vermillion warriors. Kai and I were just kids, little kids. I couldn't have been older than four."
"But you two didn't join Master Wu until you were teenagers."
"There were some people in our village, who looked out for us at first, either by buying us food or buying the stock of weapons that our dad had in the back, but as soon as Kai was tall enough to start learning how to run the forge, he refused any financial help, dropped out of school and ran the shop. He refused to let me do the same no matter how much I begged, stuff about "mom and dad would want me to keep you safe"," Nya swallowed back a sob at the memories flooding her mind and looked back up at the sky, "he was such an idiot, but he always kept me safe. It's why, for the longest time, I viewed myself as invincible. That no one could lay a hand on me because Kai would stop them before they could even think about it."
She was caught a little off guard by the sudden pressure of tight arms around her, but she didn't push away and pulled Arin closer instead, her eyes starting to fill with salty tears that absorbed into his shirt.
Despite the tears, it never devolved into sobs; Jay had always been the one who was more open with his emotions, the one who begged her not to leave him as the call of the sea grew louder and louder in her ears.
Nya knew that the sobs would come as soon as she was alone; they would come after she called her parents to let them know what had happened and she made her way in his bedroom filled with warmth, reds and the scent of smoke lingering in the air.
Her chest would heave and the tears would spill onto his red bed sheets as she curled up in a ball with Jay's tattered stuffed zebra in her arms all while she tried so desperately not to feel like that terrified little girl who crawled into her big brother's bed at every minor inconvenience.
It was not the first time she had fallen into this routine; it had happened after Cole's fall, it had happened after Zane was transported into the Never Realm and it had happened that first night she had returned to the monastery after years of being separated from the others only to find out that Lloyd and Kai had also been unsuccessful in finding Jay.
It was as if her body refused to let her fully break until she was completely safe, far away from prying eyes and rhetorical questions.
When Arin finally pulled away and sat back down beside her, he brought his arm up and rested it on her shoulder blade, "I know Lloyd, and Master Wu, would tell you that "ninja never quit", but ninja are allowed to take a break."
"Well, you are the ninja expert," Nya chuckled as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, waiting until he finished yawning to continue, "a ninja expert who really needs to try and get some sleep."
"I get the hint," Arin nodded, making his way towards the door as Nya turned away and pulled in another deep breath, "Nya?"
"Yes?" She turned to see him nervously tapping a finger on his left hand as he lingered by the sliding door.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"I don't…I don't know."
"Do you want me to stay?"
And no matter how nice his offer was, she shook her head "no".
She couldn't accept it because no matter how much she had grown to care for Arin and the rest of Lloyd's students, he wasn't Kai; and Kai was the only person that could make any of this feel somewhat okay.
"I guess I'll see you later, then." Arin spoke before the sliding door opened and closed with a soft 'thunk' against the wood, leaving Nya by herself in the courtyard as the clouds rolled across the sky lazily.
She wasn't sure how long she watched the bright blue and bright sun rays be broken up by clouds, but the warmth soaking through her clothes and coating her skin felt so wrong; if the sky understood what had taken place and just how much her brother had sacrificed for it, rain would be dampening her hair and drenching her clothes.
But instead, she was covered in sunlight while wondering, 'how can there be any warmth if Kai isn't here?'
"Hey."
Nya turned her head quickly at the noise, only to relax when she saw Lloyd with a mug clutched tightly in his right hand.
"Figured you would need something to drink, it's really hot out here."
"Thanks," Nya muttered softly, taking the mug from him and sipping at the cool water inside before taking in his disheveled appearance of messy hair and red-rimmed eyes, "I take it sleeping still isn't going well?" he shook his head, allowing her to prod more, "is it more visions?"
"I came out here to help you feel better," his chuckle was hollow in a way that made Nya feel sick as she came to the realization as to why he had sought her out, "but no, it's not visions…I just miss him."
"Yeah, me too."
"Kai's the one I always go to when this leader stuff gets really hard and I don't…I don't know what I'm going to do, how I'm going to do this, without him."
"Well, it may not be the same," she didn't expect it to be even close, "but you can always talk to me about it, okay?"
"Okay," Lloyd agreed after a beat of silence, catching her off guard for a brief moment by resting his head against her shoulder before asking, "Is this okay?"
"Yeah, it's okay," she insisted, pulling him closer to try and remind herself that she still had one of her brothers while the sun started to dip behind the monastery wall, "it's more than okay, Lloyd."
#ninjago#lego ninjago#my writing#fic#angst#dragons rising spoilers#ninjago nya#ninjago arin#lloyd garmadon#major character death but not really#everyone just thinks that Kai and Bonzle are gone#rgb siblings#grief
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