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eyessharpweaponshot · 4 years

Note

hi there!! are there any fics you’re reading right now that you would recommend? i need something good after the season we’ve been given so far 😣

hello there!

I agree, this season has been disappointing - especially considering it’s the last one. but thankfully, our fandom is full of amazing writers that serve us goods regularly. I have so much to recommend, it’s a joke. so prepare for a long fic rec. In no particular order, let’s begin:

1. Chasin’ You - @burninghoneyatdusk

okay. you’re gonna see a bit of a theme with me in these fic recs because the authors I mention are some of my favourites in the world - sam being one of the TOP TIER ones. this fic is a modern au, written about clarke and bellamy as exes (a favourite trope of mine) that have went their separate ways. clarke has moved away and hasn’t kept tabs on bellamy but he's soared to the top as a country star, his hit single being about her and what they had. if there’s any fic from this list you need to start reading, it’s this one.

2. Voices in the Water - @burninghoneyatdusk

It’s the canon version we all wanted. set on earth, clarke’s aunt (nia) forces her into an arranged marriage with king bellamy to unite the clans. but under it all, nia has tasked her to kill him. obviously, as clarke falls in love with bellamy, it’s the one task wanheda probably can’t complete. I'm in love with the imagery and descriptions in this fic. there are honestly some lines that sam writes that I want to frame and put up in my house. absolute brilliance.

3. All Because of You - @burninghoneyatdusk

*sheepishly raises hand* - hi, it’s me again, fangirling over another one of sam’s fics. if you have followed me for a while, either here or on twitter, you’ll have seen me screaming about this fic. I've pulled over while driving to read an update that came through to my email. no lie. I don’t say this lightly but it is definitely in my top 3 favourite bellarke fics of all time. sam DELIVERS with this one. bellamy knocks up his sister’s best friend when they’re both young and they grow together in raising their daughter. this fic flashes between present and future in the most seamless way and we see how in love they were back then but too scared to admit it, combined with how in love they are now that they are mature and older - but yet can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t tell you enough how good this fic is. I'm in love and it’s one of those fics that I would happily have as a book on my bookshelf, the pages worn and falling out from the amount of times that I re-read it.

*I just want to note that sam is doing a fantastic job at running @bellarkefic-for-blm. This is an opportunity for the bellarke community to directly support the Black Lives Matter cause through reading and writing fanfiction. For every fanfiction prompt a participating writer receives, they ask that you donate to an organization that supports the BLM cause. This initiative includes non-bellarke the 100 ships and requests for other content (e.g. gif sets, icons, moodboards, fanart). please check them out and request a prompt (this also includes updates for the above mentioned fics)*

4. Count Your Teeth - @icantloseyou-too

let me tell you, you guys will be well fed after reading this fic. It’s one of the most original idea’s and we get so much bellarke and the blake siblings in this one. bellamy is a treasure hunter and married to clarke, after leaving his thieving days behind him. that is until his past comes knocking and drags him back into that world again - and clarke along with him. absolute chefs kiss!

5. Cups and Sorcerers - @icantloseyou-too

again, such a unique plot with just the right amount of fluff. clarke is a witch who owns a coffee shop and she ends up meeting someone just as unique as her. I’m invested in this to an embarrassing degree and it always puts me in a good mood when this fic is updated. such a light and heart filling read and ciara does a fantastic job of world building in this fic.

6. Paint me in Trust - @pawprinterfanfic

I'm sure this fic needs no introduction. everyone and their mother has heard of it and if you haven’t read it yet, believe me, you’re missing out. a harry potter au that runs alongside the last few movies without being involved with the main characters. essie manages to make an already existing world so different, thrilling and gripping. it emotionally upends you and takes you along for the ride without any intention of letting you off. I'm just in love with it and rightly so!

7. When the Wolves Come Home - @pawprinterfanfic

I don’t know how people aren’t RAVING about this fic more because I certainly am. it’s massive for me to even say this because I love all of essie’s work but it’s my favourite fic that she’s written. I can’t describe the feeling I get when I read how she’s written bellarke in this. it’s a percy jackson au but you don’t need to have knowledge of that world to enjoy this. I actually started reading the books because of this fic. essie writes it so well and incorporates a lot of fantastic elements from greek mythology while also keeping me on the edge of my seat with bellarke’s journey. HERE FOR IT ALL THE WAY.

8. I’ll Find You in the Morning Sun - @cominguproses13x

I’ve never seen a fic talked about as much as this one. with 60 chapters, it’s bound to satisfy any hunger you have for bellarke. it’s set in a post apocalyptic world and it is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my favourite setting to read bellarke in. I've actually stopped reading this fic on chapter 5 because im currently writing my own post apocalyptic au as it was a trope on my bingo card and I don’t want any subconscious spill over, but I fully intend on reading the rest of the fic in one go once my fic is published and done. it deserves all the praise and hype.

9. For Blue Skies - @kombellarke

kayla’s fics make me actually weep. her writing style is just unbelievable and she sucks me into stories so fast. this one is no different. I live and breathe for bellarke as exes and this fic is one of my favourites. it’s a modern au with clarke as a mother and she cascades back into bellamy’s life without warning. perfect angst and anticipation. in love.

10. Love Like Fools - @talistheintrovert

the way I love talis with my whole heart. I'm always obsessed with her fics and the way this one was written was just magnificent. enemies to friends to lovers, roommates, angst, emotional comforting? SIGN ME UP. the perfect mix of all of those and I felt so good after reading this. always a fan.

11. It Had To Be You - @useyourtelescope

I had the honour of pre-reading some of this fic before it was published and I felt so privileged. a regency au with a prank war sprinkled in? perfection. hana honestly writes this so beautifully and I can’t recommend this enough. it’s so unique and we are all so incredibly lucky that there’s something in the bellarke fic world for everyone.

12. Veni, Vidi, Vinci - @carrieeve

Again, proof of the pudding that there’s something in fic for everyone. I’ve never read one like this before and it THRILLED me. murphy and bellamy working together to steal a Vinci? it was the fic I never knew I needed. the bellarke interaction in this was beautifully written and I am just completely obsessed. we really struck gold with the bellarke big bang works this year.

13. A Twist of Fate - @queenemori

let’s be honest, soulmate au’s are always wanted and needed in this fandom and kara does an excellent job of serving us this one. we got some team cockroach in here along with some top tier quality bellarke. what more could you ask for? if you haven’t read this fic yet, you need to. so thankful for kara being the absolute gifted babe that she is.

14. Power Over Me - @sparklyfairymira

okay, if you recently watched the witcher on netflix like I did, believe me, you NEED to read this fic. if you haven’t watched the witcher, this fic will make you want to watch it. the smut in this, the plot, the WRITING. absolutely phenomenal. have I mentioned how lucky we are to have such fantastic writers in this fandom?

15. There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters - @shaeheda

post apocalyptic au? SIGN ME UP. bellarke thrown together in unkind circumstances? SIGN ME UP. this magnificent human writing a fic? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I'm so in love with this fic already and I haven’t even finished it yet. as I've said, I've stopped reading fics in this genre until my own is completed but I’ve read enough to tell you that this needs to be on your next to read list. forever in awe of the talent here and this fic makes me feel so lucky to be part of something so great.

I hope this satisfies you for a while and that you enjoy all the bellarkey goodness that comes from these fics. I'm gonna drop some of mine below because why not? just in case you’re in need of something more.

1. I Found Peace in Your Violence

clarke griffin has it all. she’s popular, an artistic prodigy and has a wealthy family to boot. so when her perfect world comes crashing down around her, it’s time to sink or swim. she tests positive for the Homicidal Tendency Syndrome gene, also known as the kill gene. clarke is plucked from her comfortable life and placed into a school with people just like her - carriers, delinquents. when she meets bellamy blake there, he looks like everything they say HTS carriers are. a monster, a criminal. yet, he’s the one who protects her.

2. I Am Lost This Time

a void!bellamy fic that we all deserved to have happen in canon. an au where bellamy hears clarke’s radio calls from earth, sees her memories in m-cap and where she really is the key: the one that unlocks his memories and brings him back to her.

3. Purple, Blue, Orange, Red

bellarke are childhood friends and teenage lovers, reuniting in the midst of the same grief that tore them apart.

4. Devil Side

post apocalyptic setting and my favourite fic to have ever written. both of them coming together to survive and protect those in their family, including two small children. bellarke started out as strangers, who would have thought that they’d end up co-parenting in the middle of a world that is too dangerous to survive out in the open?

5. Waste It on Me

a soulmate/reincarnation au that I wrote based off my own breakup and feelings. probably my most popular fic and should keep you going in terms of bellarke feels.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic rec #fic recommendations #jensfic #eyessharpweaponshot #wonderful writers #wonderful fics

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torishasupremacy · 3 years

Text

going through my middle/high school notes on my phone

here are some atrocities I found:

song lyrics i wrote that i cant tell whether they’re terrible and dumb or actually kind of slap

a billion links to h*milton fanfics that i immediately deleted (and then proceeded to throw up)

“spanish hip hop version of beauty and the best” with absolutely no context

oh god oh fuck now its a bunch of links to h*milton animatics i crave death

and now we’ve moved on to the dear evan hansen animatics. less cringe but i still wanna punch 14 y/o me in the face

okayyyy a bunch of otp prompts. sure.

“Self-doubt is your worst enemy. Do not fall victim to the illusion of fear.” - Kayla Robinson

acne treatments because i was super insecure ab my skin. dont worry honey it gets better and by better i mean your skin still sucks but you aren’t super depressed ab it anymore

why did i write down the twitter bios for h*milton actors. why.

a list of overwatch characters back when there were only like 20

like 3 separately written lists of be more chill songs?? who are these for??

a prediction for the end of the heroes of olympus series. it didn’t happen.

a massive list of sexuality and ship hcs for characters from 6 different musicals that i apparently spent 30 minutes on

be more chill character names but in morse code??

“why determinate when you could just terminate? kill everyone.”

the following but in spanish: “My notebook is over here. For the first time, she is happy. Apparently the apple is red. At last, she finishes her homework. The book is good for now.”

a paragraph about why i liked be more chill that started talking about how i met one of my best friends after we realized his computer wallpaper was a scene from the show and my wallpaper was fan art of that scene, which id completely forgotten about. he ended up being a fake/toxic friend, so go figure.

“Greek mytholoPHI” horrible pun 0/10

a recipe for dijon mustard?????

“first of all, frankenstein is a stylish motherfucker” again, with absolutely ZERO context, that’s the whole note

this fucking poem: “Eyes they see. Lids they blink. Asa’s a Twink.”

a poem that is actually good and about how i was in love with my best friend but too scared to ask him out. really hits different now considering he was awful behind my back rip :)

(also we both presented as female lesbians at the time but he transitioned which is why im using he/him pronouns)

disturbingly long and thought out sanders sides fanfiction ideas. they have all now been deleted

screenshots of this conversation:

matt: cognitive behavioral therapy explain this

kate: no bitch

matt: my mom is calling your mom RIGHT NOW

kate: UR MOOOOOMMM

matt: yeah well you smell

lola: u smell

lola: like warm beet chunks

zach: ew

matt: :(

lola: u smell like borscheeeee

me: im calling the police on everyone

kate: I like humUUSSSSS

amy: beets make me feel rustic

matt: I cant go back to jail

mmmm now we’ve moved onto poetry AFTER he broke my heart. fun.

lmao one note titled “cast of characters” and all it says below is “...”

a really bad idea for a movie about a lesbian thespian youtuber that’s immediately followed by research on homosexuality during the holocaust

the following dreams:

“I was playing overwatch in a building in the city until half past midnight. I had to drive home and I was really bad at driving because I had to press a button to stop and I would forget to press the button until the last moment and almost crash into the car ahead of me. Then I went into the freeway above the sea and I was freaking out because it was the opposite direction from home so I did a u turn but I ended up on a ferry and I panicked and drove the car into the ocean”

“I was keeping my friend’s gecko alexander in the console of the car and mom built a picture frame terrarium to keep him in”

“I had adopted four peacock pigeon hybrids and they kept jumping in the pool. I was going to name them chad, taylor, ryan, and sharpay but dad told me to think about it and then I was debating whether to name them after the sanders sides or not”

the only decipherable part of the next note is this:

“I know him... he’s the worst kind of evil.” “What’s that?” “Little brothers”

tips for playing moira in overwatch

“12 animatronics 14 shark pool 17 accused of accusing friend of incest but actually neo betrayed will mike blanket” what does this MEAN???

a list of wacky improv characters we had on one scene:

Nun having fun

College dropout

Kleptomaniac teenager

Horny teenager

Creepy uncle

I have no memory of this scene except my aro ace friend had to play the horny teenager so he kept yelling I WANT TO BONE

the entire be more chill script. like the entire thing. what the actual fuck.

my southern relatives called a storm a “frog strangler of rain” and I wrote that down

a link to the asexual manifesto

different south east asian currencies and exchange rates

quote from my classmate who was literally harold from total drama but more political: “What I’m asking is that if I had infinite helium balloons how many would I need to lift my body- not to float infinitely- but enough to plausibly kill me?”

an essay about populism

a description of a woman in my dreams. her name was millie but she made it clear her name was NOT millie bobby brown. she was bisexual and wore a shiny peacock blue leather jacket with a blue tank top and jeans. she had straight hair that was a mix of blonde and brown that was cut into a choppy bob. she and her pet tiger were living in a trailer in the woods because her boyfriend kicked her out

my natal chart (im a double aries and lunar capricorn)

a note that says “tamil nadu india” and nothing else

ive given up. if you read this far: why.

#my life

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emptymasks · 5 years

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Yancy being totally flustered and ruined by Illinois calling him pet names is totally valid but you know what’s better? The first time Yance feels comfortable enough and happy enough to be like ‘Aww, Illi, ain’t you a doll?’ and Illinois stops dead because HE does the pet names and complimenting, HE does the charming. No one charms him. But his heart is Bang Bang Banging and Yancy has a 404 adventurer on his hands.

ain’t you a doll // yancy x illinois

Pairing: Yancy x Illinois

Words: 1089

Rating: General Audiences

Read on Ao3

Notes (more notes at the end): finally got around to writing something for these two. i put the call out for prompts for yancy/illinois two and a half weeks ago and im finally writing about them. i jsut finally felt inspired and woo boy this got really soft i was dying writing them holding hands.

@wexeatxthexrude thank you so much for the prompt

edit: fixed the formatting issue, damn you tumblr why do you like to warp my fics. thanks to those that let me know.

Another adventure successfully and mostly safely completed, and anotherpriceless artefact soundly and more than mostly safely delivered to the museum.

This wasn’t the first adventure Yancy had tagged along on, but this was thefirst time he’d come with Illinois to the museum to deliver what they’dretrieved and Illinois felt stupid for worrying about whether Yancy was goingto like it or not. Of course he was going to like it, I mean thisplace had the most complete triceratops skeleton in the world! Okay… that’sone of the reasons he liked it, didn’t mean Yancy would. Illinoisforgot a lot of the time that not everyone found old fossils and relics andremains as interesting or cool as he did.

Luckily, Yancy had been enthralled as Illinois walked him around theexhibits and gave him his own exclusive, honorary tour, that was packed withway more information, and much more accurate information, than the museum’sofficial tour guides could ever offer, and hey he also heard this exclusivetour had the best looking guide.

And also luckily Yancy hadn’t gotten bored or fed up of him rambling andgetting over-excited, he’d just listened to everything and smiled and been sosupportive Illinois hadn’t felt this… it felt too early to say ‘loved’…admired maybe… He hadn’t felt this ‘unnameable positive emotion that made hischest feel warm and tight’ in a long time.

“Hey you know, there’s a cafe next to the lobby in here, and when it’snice and hot like this they sell ice cream, you want to grab any? Mytreat?” He asked Yancy once he’d finally finished leading him around theexhibits.

“Aww, Illy, ain’t you a doll.”

Illinois froze.

What… just happened?

Did Yancy just… call him a pet name?

No, no, no, that was his job, he was meant to be the onefull of compliments and pet names. He charmed people, people didn’tcharm him.

People didn’t… When was the last time anyone had charmed him?Illinois tried to think back and sure he knew when people were looking at himlike they wanted to do something to him, or wanted him to do something to them,but no one really flirted with him unless the occasional confident soul shot afew lines back at him as he winked and smiled.

But no one called him pet names, people didn’t call him pet names, Yancyhadn’t ever called him by a pet name before. Yancy was cute and softer, whileIllinois was stoic and cocky and tough, not that Yancy wasn’t tough but… Theway Yancy had said that…

It was just a pet name, just one word, why the hell was he freaking out somuch? He felt the urge to put a hand on his chest to see if his heart reallywas having as much of a fit as he thought it was. His cheeks felt hot, had theyalways felt that hot? It was fairly warm in here but the museum did have airconditioning but it was the summer so-

Something flashed across his face.

There it was again.

It was Yancy’s hand.

“Ill? I didn’t break yous, did I?” Yancy was a lot closer than hehad been before, when did he move? Oh god Illinois prayed to whatever strangedeity might shine down on him that he hadn’t just been standing here for whoknows how long staring into space.

“No, no,” Illinois cringed and coughed as he heard his voice comeout almost squeaky. “Not at all darlin’ you just, uh, took me bysurprise with that is all.”

“With what?” Yancy tilted his head to the side.

Okay maybe he could get away with pretending this never happened. “Oh,nothing, don’t worry about it, but I was saying wasn’t I that I would-”

“It’s cause I called yous ‘doll’ ain’t it?” Yancy was grinning butthere was an insecurity there as if he was afraid of being embarrassed if hewas wrong.

“I, uh,” Illinois shook his head. “Alright, you caught me. Ijust… didn’t expect the pet name is all.”

“Yous seemed to short circuit on me for a second there. How not used toit are you?” Yancy laughed and Illinois dug thumbs under his belt andbalanced back on his heels as he ducked his head (something he was starting tolearn was a nervous tick of his, not that he got nervous of course). “Oh,real not used to it huh?” And Yancy knew what his body language meant andthat was something unusual but… sweet. Not many people had stuck around(whether by their own choice or… not their own choice) long enough to get toknow him this well.

“I suppose I’m used to being the charmer but not the charmee,”Illinois joked, or at least tried to, it must have not worked considering theserious expression on Yancy’s face. “Yance? That’s not… weird, right?How I reacted, I mean.”

Yancy’s eyes stayed serious but he smiled. “Oh not at all, doll.I'ms just thinking what I can dos with this information.” And he smirked,Illinois hadn’t even known Yancy knew how to smirk. “So, what was thatyous were saying about getting us ice cream, sweetheart?”

Oh no. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Yancy had too much power.

He his face heating up had nothing to do with the room temperature thistime. His hand found it’s way up and tugged at the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah,” He tried to shake the feelings off. “I’ll lead theway.”

Yancy, shyly but slyly leaned into him as they walked and brushed theirhands together. Illinois almost jumped, but pushed his hand back into Yancy andhe saw how Yancy’s face lit up from the corner of his eye. Something like thiswas a big step for both of them, both touch-starved from their time alone, butYancy was also so used to people touching him because they were hurting him.Illinois was making sure that never happened again, and was trying his best notto mess things up.

Yancy smiled and held his hand and squeezed it and just looked so darn cutethat Illinois turned his head to the side and slid his hand over his stubbleand over his mouth.

“Yous alright, Noisy?”

“I’m fine, Yancy.” Illinois sighed and dropped his hand, failingto fight the smile off his face.

“Alright,” Yancy cocked his head and grinned. “Doll.”

Tag list: @theshysepticeye @the-marvel-encyclopedia @gabby-doo @actrmrk @smol-gay-nerd184 @salmonisforthebagel (let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for my ahwm fics, also let me know if you want to be taken off the tag list)

More notes:

and if you guys could please help me out and and reblog this promo post for the heist charms, stickers and pins i’m making and selling that would mean the world! there’s also the link in there to my Etsy shop where you can buy them plugging that again because i need moneys

also if you want to see the heist art i keep drawing you can follow me on instagram and twitter

#yancy x illinois #yancy #ahwm illinois #ahwm yancy #ahwm #mywriting #mine #wexeatxthexrude #markiplier egos

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sgnwooseok · 5 years

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hello everyone!!! i am so excited that this place is back uwu hello i am jess and i play this bb wooseok here~ i’m super hype to play him and i can’t wait to start plotting with everyone! wooseok’s about page is HERE and i’ll list some more facts/history and some potential open plots under the cut :D

i have twitter here, but i think i’m mostly going to try to keep plotting to tumblr ims so i don’t get confused haha. please LIKE THIS TO PLOT and i’ll hop into ur ims! or reply to this if u see a plot u want maybeeee? if not we can always brainstorm too!

brief history/run down of wooseok

he is a 96 line and a third year at snu

he’s late bc he did his military service fresh out of high school so he’s a bit older than others in his grade oops (aka if ur 95-97 line and did military service already maybe they met there)

his parents divorced when he was in like 8th grade so it was Peak Devastation and Angsty Times for tween wooseok and he decided he hates his dad

but he ADORES his mom and visits her most weekends

he’s a scholarship student and got in on a full ride on the basis that he keeps his grades up

so he’ll be mostly found studying in various areas

if he’s at a party and he gets bored he’ll probably be on his phone reading his notes lmAO

i called him “haruhi without the host club and cross dressing” so if that helps with the image i have for him HAHAA

uhhh he loves baking but doesn’t cook very often

since he’s in nutrition he always bakes his own snacks and can almost always be found snacking on something homemade that he baked on his own

he’s also always willing to share because he’s Generous™ like that

potential plots? maybe?

anyone who went to the same high school and knew he was a nerd and before his nice Glow-up

maybe an ex .... a Girlfriend in high school .... before he decided his preferences

tbh i would love to have someone who like ... either tries bullies or tease him for being poor but he honestly doesn’t give a crap (quote haruhi’s “ugh, rich people”)

HE NEEDS FRIENDS someone pls just befriend this boy

exes(?) he has one (1) ex who he’s still lowkey half pining over but he’s definitely dated other people~ even if it was in high school or smth

COUSINS??? he’s an only child but pls be cousins w him (especially cousin’s on his dad’s side bc that would be fun if he liked u but he’s torn bc ur from that side of the family and he’s like :/)

cousins from his moms side would be cool too tho

frenemies? friendly competition? u know he’s a nerd but u wanna try to beat him at his own game?

someone he tutors? wooseok is the type of person who doesn’t rly wanna make longterm friends bc he’s like “never gonna see these people again anyway” so

someone who always tries to benefit from his snacks? (this can be multiple people bc wooseok stress bakes LOL)

someone who is vaguely worried about his caffeine addiction and he claims he has it under control “bc this is what he’s studying” but youve never seen someone drink something with three-four espresso shots in it and not shake after like ... is he ok, is he human

HAHA or he’s broke AF rn nd you see him sUffering because he’s suffering from caffeine withdrawals and you take pity on him and buy him a coffee

u are confused as to why he keeps staring at a certain someone and thinks that he’s shy or smth and offer to be his wingman but no, he doesn’t just think he’s hot, that’s his ex-bf

and bc i’m uncreative these are one-liners i stole from the internet that could work w wooseok as a plot

“there’s a harry potter marathon on.” “why would you tell me that when i’m studying for a midterm?!” (wooseok)

“you need to shower/eat/sleep/take care of yourself.” “after studying.” (wooseok) “no. now.”

you’re waiting in my dorm room for my roommate to come back from class and i end up helping you on your lab work/homework

this is the third time you’ve been locked outside of my dorm bc you left your student card/key inside. this is also the third time i’ve had to let you in

i’ve never gotten drunk before and you decide you’ll make me get drunk with you

you were really drunk and i walked you back to your dorm to make sure u were safe

i hate sports so why am i at the _____ game? you want to find out

we have the same early 9am class and you fall asleep on me so i wrote notes for you (so you want to either pay him back or get him to always write notes for u or smth)

all of our friends are drunk, why am i even at this party?

i caved and ordered pizza and so did you and we’re both waiting outside of the avenue for our respective delivery guys

we’re studying in the library and there are two people very obviously fucking behind the shelf next to us, what the fuck are we supposed to do?

you (a sports player) hit me in the head with your (sports) ball and now we’re headed to the infirmary because i think there’s two of you

wow this got super long so thank u if ur still reading this djkfbksdjbf but yeah anyways hmu to plot pls and ty and if none of these fit ur muse we can always brainstorm ofc!!

edit: i added some random prompts :D

#( ooc. )

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alyssastarlight · 5 years

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Title: Sweet Like Candy to My Soul Author: Nikayla For: @gaycrouton, the Valentine’s Fic Exchange on Twitter Pairing: Mulder/Scully, MSR Set During: Season 4 cancer arc, though there’s very little acknowledgment of it Word Count: 4,900 Rating: M/NC-17

She swallows thickly and he can hear the faint smack of her lips when they part to take another breath. Suddenly he’s fascinated by those lips. Wholly immersed in their plumpness; the flush of their coloring, the shine left behind when she nervously licks along her top lip. Even more suddenly he’s consumed by a need to touch those lips, his hand reaching her face before he’s entirely realized the whim — fingers skimming along her jawline as his thumb whispers underneath the protrusion of her full bottom lip. Her mouth closes on an ‘M’ that doesn’t end up forming anything more.

A/N: I’m horrible at following prompts but I hope this will fulfill your v-day wishes regardless. The concept came to me in that place between awake and sleep and developed itself pretty much against my will and I hope that you and everyone else will like it. Happy Valentine’s Day! ATTHS!

FF.NET | AO3

What a way to spend Valentine’s Day. Not that it really amounted to anything that different from how he normally spent it, with no girlfriend to speak of. But being caught in a blizzard at the tail end of a lackluster case, forced to stay holed up in a motel room when stepping foot outside ran the risk of coming back with icicles for eyelashes was still fairly low on his list of fantasy holidays. Were it not for the redhead whose room his adjoined to, he might have actually gone completely stir-crazy here, in a town he’d never have chosen to visit otherwise. But about said redhead.

On Hour 5 of their forced confinement there was a small rap at the door separating their rooms, the ravishing creature responsible inviting him in to hers to go over the field report she’d been typing away at. It was a welcome reprieve from flipping through the three different channels he’d managed to pull in, each one not much more than a snowy reflection of the blustering weather just outside.

Entering her room he was greeted by a handful of new sensations. The room was warm; probably no more than his but it had a sort of inviting air to it that his stale quarters lacked. Though that may have had more to do with the room’s inhabitant than whatever temperature she’d set her thermostat to. Second, the room smelled infinitely better. Again, something easily attributed more to his partner herself, as there were no candles, incense or the like around to have accounted for it otherwise. And then — there she was.

Casual Scully wasn’t something he got to experience very often. Even in a presumably casual setting she was still often found in a tailored jacket at the very least, if not a full-blown FBI regulation suit. Doing a very unregulated job of hugging her in ways he shouldn’t let himself take note of, but was guilty of nonetheless. But here in Nowhere, North Dakota, stuck in a crappy motel, Casual Scully had made her way out since he’d last spoken to her.

Wearing leggings and an old chopped up t-shirt, with her hair half clipped out of her face; a few wayward pieces breaking free to dance at her cheekbones, though he could hardly fault them for that. It was an indiscretion he himself had been guilty of; breaking away from propriety at times, indulging himself in sweeping the backs of his fingers along her cheek, hidden beneath a guise of either comfort or kindness — brushing a strand of hair from her face before she’s even noticed it had fallen out of line. Casual Scully made it more difficult than usual to resist staring, his gaze lingering in all kinds of ways inappropriate for interoffice partnerships. It was this fact that led him to notice her ten little red painted toes — the only sign he could see of her acknowledging the occasion.

As he surveyed the rest of the room he noted the mat set out just beyond the foot of the bed. She’d taken up yoga a number of weeks before — she’d told him as much, but this was his first actual glimpse into her new ritual. “I was just about to do some stretches,” she mentions offhandedly, before doing a much less off-handed job of whipping her t-shirt over her head, revealing a sports bra to match her workout bottoms. “Be my guest,” his voice does a terrible job at parroting her tone, sounding deeper and fuller than intended; though thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice.

Retiring to the relative safety of the table in the corner of the room, her report left open on her laptop’s screen for him, he once again took the opportunity to spend more time watching her than paying attention to the work in front of him. He looked on with a kind of silent fascination — watching her small but strong form leading itself from one stretch into the next; muscle molding beneath skin. The vision she presented proved far more enticing than words on a screen, and he indulged himself deeper into this welcome distraction.

“Mulder?” Her voice rings out, and he’s certain he’s caught; that the old pretending to read a file gag has failed him. As fate would have it, he’s safe, with her gaze still angled away from him while his has lingered both inconspicuous and yet carelessly — he’s read maybe 12 words of this file and none have been subsequent. “Can you tell me if my back is straight?” She sounds forthright yet idyllic; an odd combination given the situation, but he’s not one to question it.

“Pretty close.” He answers quick, too quick — too obvious that he hadn’t just looked up when she spoke but had been following closely along as she moved from stretch to stretch. He has no idea their names but he can recall in perfect clarity exactly how she looked in each of them.

“Can you adjust me?”

A lump threatens to overtake his throat at her request, strangling his voice before he can cover it with a cough. “Shr—uhum—Sure Scully.” Moving to join her, kneeling just beside her prone form, he’s all at once taken aback by just how small she is. Tough as nails, his Scully, and yet no bigger than a sixth grader. Her size betrays her strength, he knows. He’s witnessed it. He could even say he’s witnessing it now, as she holds herself in a plank position, muscles taut and straining but strong; powerful. He knows she could knock him out if she ever wanted to. Hell, sometimes he wishes she actually would.

“Am I close?” Once again she pulls him back from whatever internal fantasy he can’t seem to let go of; her voice holding a focused innocence his can scarcely claim.

“You tell me.” Having overcome the lump, he sounds more wanton than anticipated. “Sorry...bad joke.” Deciding it would be best to move things along quickly before she can have a reaction, he finally takes in her position from a — fleetingly — objective mind. The next stretch requires a straight back, he tells himself clinically; easy enough. A warm hand lands against her and he marvels momentarily at this new perspective. He’s touched her here almost every day and yet seeing it — seeing the way his hand almost spans her right the way across, how fair and soft she is beneath her suits, the faint smattering of freckles that decorate the area... He doesn’t realize just how long he’s fallen silent; staring, cataloging, until her voice shakes him back to reality once more. “Mulder?”

“Sorry,” he mutters absentmindedly, and moves on to the task at hand.

He’s gentle with her — not that he needs to be; but the compulsion is there all the same. He’s delicate as he maneuvers each area, setting her shoulders just so, pressing softly against her mid-back to correct the slightly convex curvature there. Reaching her lower back again he is struck just as he’d been the first time, summarily distracted from his task of righting her spine’s position; lost within the creamy expanse of Scully skin. He feels more than hears her intake of breath when his fingertips gently wander down her vertebrae, re-misaligning her upper back, requiring he correct it once again.

“Sorry.” She mimics him from before, and her voice holds a quality he somehow can’t quite pinpoint; a borderline somewhere between distraction and...something else. Continuing where he left off, he passes over her lower back, memorizing the curve without the hindrance of fabric to interrupt his mapping of her. Her spine is slightly bowed here, dipped inward from the posture she’s trying to achieve; and he realizes the only way to actually right this is to reach beneath her, palming her stomach to ease her into alignment. He leaves one hand behind to provide a counterbalance, the other bracing itself just over her navel, feeling the rigidity in her abdominal muscles as he finishes repositioning her.

“Looks good to me.” There’s no way to disguise the way his voice has lowered since he last spoke; an all too obvious indication of what touching her could do to a man. He can’t help noting how she looks to be fairing no better, with a slight tremor visible in her stance as she attempts to control her breath. “Thank you.” Her voice shakes just as perceptibly as she is; slight, but it’s there. She holds the stretch for a thirty count, and he’s made no move to leave her side even when she’s finished. She drops a knee to the mat and lets out a languished breath, then turns to sit facing him. Neither has said a word for the last minute or more, and electric molecules buzz in the air like the flurries just outside her window.

Her eyes are deadly focused on his, though his own have taken up a residence alongside his thumb for the time being. He watches diligently at the way her lip gives under the insistent pressing of his thumb; her breath a hot little cloud moistening the digit along with her lips. Growing braver or perhaps just more foolish, he moves up, to fully experience the satiny impact of her lip head on — feeling her breath shake all the while she allows him this great indulgence. And indulge he does.

“What made you take up yoga?” He asks as though he isn’t currently tracing his partner’s uniquely perfect pout. But a very unpartner-like behavior only breeds more unpartner-like conduct. She swallows again, the action parting her lips once more; though his thumb has still yet to leave their pillowy expanse, simply moving back to outlining the brim of her lower lip once more. His fingers have taken up a more serious attachment to her jawline, and he makes no indication of removing them to make this any easier on her. He can see the mix of shock dancing in her eyes — shock at what he’s doing, perhaps even shock at herself for so freely allowing what he’s doing, and shock that he’s chosen this moment to ask about her exercise habits.

She swallows again and he can feel the sensation just below his fingertips where they graze against her throat. Her lips look as though she’s going to question him. ‘Mulder what are you doing?’, ‘Mulder why are you touching me like this?’, ‘Mulder why haven’t I stopped you?’. He silently prepares himself for — he wouldn’t call it rejection, but it will certainly end up feeling that way. He’s in this just as she is; shock mixing around his mind, at his own audacity, brazenness, at her lack of rebuff until now. But she surprises him yet again — her voice coming out with what looks like a great effort to remain unaffected, but ending up sounding altogether very, very affected.

“It was suggested to me...” His Scully is stronger than any man or woman he’s ever known. Her fortitude astounds him almost daily, but no more than it does in this moment. Perhaps later he’ll tell himself it was that fortitude that spurred him on — a voiceless challenge to rattle those fortifications, push past those braces before she shores herself up impenetrably. Yes that must be the reason he finds himself tugging her closer, his hand having moved to the back of her neck before he fully realizes it; but how can anyone expect anything of him when he’s just felt the first brush of contact of her lips and his? She draws in a quick gasp of breath at the connection, which he’s almost certain amounted to little more than drawing in his exhale; CO2 invading her lungs as his tongue makes its first bid at invading her mouth.

All at once she lets him, even meets him halfway; her tongue colliding with the wet intrusion of his — a first kiss to end all others. It’s slow and soft, yet achingly erotic. This suddenly sensual creature before him never fails to surprise him. Thinking back he could argue that she’s always been sensual — wholly feminine, more beautiful than he’d allow himself to acknowledge — never wanting to reduce her to a mere sensual being, when she was that and so, so so much more; most especially to him. But the kiss — the kiss cements her in his mind as an utterly beautiful, utterly sensual woman. He’ll be hard-pressed to extract her in any other state now, with the way her hands have suddenly clutched into his t-shirt, leveraging herself closer to him; he’ll be hard-pressed indeed.

“Mulder...” his name finally makes it out, but not like he expected. It isn’t ‘Mulder what are you doing?’ it’s ‘Mulder keep doing what you’re doing or I’ll shoot you again.’ Okay maybe not exactly that, but his mind has a mind of its own now and it’s decidedly run away with him. Taken whatever it was that held him back from her for this long and blown it sky high. His hands reach for her waist and pull her in a swift, clean motion; her slight weight flying across the short distance between them until she’s in his lap, knees pressed in to the carpet and lips at a much better angle for him to kiss. She draws in another quick breath at the relocation, but seems just as appreciative to be closer now than just in arm’s reach. Her hands are in his hair and she’s flush against his chest, and she’s just as intent on keeping this going as he is.

A soft, little sound escapes her lips and goes right to his groin. A moan, you idiot — his brain tells him late. You just made Dana Scully moan with a kiss. The realization suddenly brings a smile to his lips, which makes a momentary mess of their kiss. But then she’s smiling too, as though his were infectious and she’s caught it — lock, stock, and barrel. The only cure is to kiss her deeper, drawing another mewling sound from her throat, which makes the same trek downwards just as her hips shift above him. They both feel it — the palpable inevitability of what comes next if they don’t stop this now. His heart lurches at the thought of stopping anything they’re doing right now, and she must sense it; allaying his fear in a single phrase.

“Bed now.”

Her words come out fast, almost too fast for him to register initially. He hears them late, but his body seems to have a mind of its own too; already having gathered her up, mere milliseconds from depositing her on the bed before it registers that this is what she asked for — her body receiving his with a contented sigh. Her legs wrap around his waist and he’s trapped; locked in to her embrace and he’s never felt better, safer, more accepted than he does in this moment. Scully has always accepted him, accepted his faults, his penchant for running off; she hates it but she accepts it all the same. She doesn’t seem to be hating this now though, when he rolls his hips and makes contact against her, she certainly doesn’t seem to be hating this at all.

The friction throws a wrench into their otherwise picture-perfect kiss. They have a rhythm developed already; born perhaps out of dancing around one another so close for so long — it’s instinctive. They know when the other needs a breath, and when breath is the least of their priorities. A kiss; deep, and long, is of much greater importance right now, and he’s chosen then to throw her off her game. Her fingers clench tighter into his hair, as though to steady herself — he’s caused yet another misalignment from touching her this way, and it’s his responsibility alone to fix it.

Without warning he breaks the kiss completely; her eyes fling open and her breath dislodges from her chest on a sudden outward journey. But it’s just as quickly pulled back in; his lips have only relocated — dropped to her throat to do a more than satisfactory job of kissing her there. He feels her begin to melt beneath his ministrations, turning to magma beneath his lips; molten hot and percolating at his touch. She is in sharp contrast to the rage of weather still outside; all but trapping them here, and at least partly responsible for setting this in motion.

His hands finally take initiative to do the same; moving from her waist to engulf her breasts, causing another moan to plant itself in her throat, and her teeth to bury themselves in her kiss-swollen lip to prevent it from fully surfacing. This only proves to spur him on more. He wants that moan — wants to hear it full force; feel it vibrate his very being and know he was the cause. He finds her nipples through Lycra fabric, kneads at them with his thumbs as his hips drive into hers on a soft roll; and that does it. The moan breaks free and she clutches him tighter. The moan sounds like his name and when he repeats the motion again, it is. “Mulder.”

He decides then and there his name has never sounded better, and likely never will again.

She begins to writhe beneath him, growing impatient and only more aroused the longer he takes to give her anything more than petting through material. But he isn’t quite done with it yet. One hand leaves her breast, much to her dismay. She tells him of such with an impatient whimper and an almost painful grasp of his hair. It turns to speaking when his hand moves between her legs; a supplication to God himself, and he’s almost tickled that he’s caused her to bring Him in to this.

He strokes at her clothen center — the scorch of her emanating through the layers still between them, bordering on incendiary. She writhes again and her hand joins the one still at her breast, grapples at him until he grips her tighter; a vision of desperation he will never get out of his head. He decides suddenly, to put her out of her misery. His hand slinks past elastic and cotton, and finally touches the flaming ember between her thighs. Three large fingers stoke her very core, eliciting the most beautiful moan he thinks he’s ever heard; three parts pleasure one part repose — it says finally, something more substantial.

The pads of his fingers run up and down the length of her, yet to focus on one place. For the time being it seems to be enough for her; as she lets her soft, mewling sounds leave her lips freely now, and tells him in a kind of Morse code through her tightening and loosening grip on his hair when and where it feels just right.

“Get this off.” He plucks at the perimeter of her sports bra, suddenly aware that he has still yet to see her breasts and that that simply won’t do. He sits up just enough to give her the room required to remove it but not so much as to break the connection of his hand between her legs. She seems most appreciative of that fact, and rewards him with a cross of her arms and a tug of fabric; the bra is lost beyond the bed and her breasts are finally free — her panting breath causing them to rise and fall gently, somehow making them appear even more enticing. “God Scully.” It’s the only reaction that comes to mind. Give it up to the big man, if he really is up there; if he really is responsible for these perfect, cherry-tipped breasts before him.

His hand returns to her first — molding along her flesh in a way he’d be lying if he said he never thought of doing before this moment. But as most merely imagined things are, it’s better than he ever could have predicted. She’s soft but firm under his hand; warm, welcoming flesh accepting his touch ardently. She flushes under the weight of his gaze and grasp on her — a pretty, pink tinge trailing out across her skin. But despite the blushed hue she is still his immutable partner. “Need this off you.” She grabs for his t-shirt and he’s forced to let go of her to aid in her removing of it. It’s narrowly out of sight before she’s clutching at his flesh, dragging him back down to her; to her waiting chest and lips. Her hands encircle as much of his back as she can reach, fingers press in to lines of muscle and tendon, and the nails of one hand light sparks along his scalp — actions all intended to draw him close, closer; keep him there, keep him kissing her — as if he would stop unless it were her express wish that he did.

His thumb sweeps along the side of her face, this time needing no excuse or wayward tendril to do so. She hums in contented recognition of the overt tenderness of the gesture; kisses him earnestly, matches him equal in her tenderness, as though he deserves nothing less. His heart clinches momentarily, at the thought that she could love him. That on this day of love and bad greeting cards she’d choose to receive the former from him, and return him hers in commensurate measure. He peppers kisses along her cheeks, her jaw; drawing a giggle out of her the likes of which he’s never heard. He can’t resist retracing his steps to kiss her effervescent mouth — to hold some of her laugh inside him forever, as once it entered him he would never surrender it to the harshness of the world ever again.

Her fingers trace a blazing trail down the column of his spine, ending somewhere near his mid-back as she runs out of arm length to reach any further. Diminutive, he’s reminded; and as if she senses his thoughts through some tongue convertible telepathy, she uses her strength to flip him onto his back. Her eyes sparkle — diminutive my ass, Agent Mulder. His petite, achingly pretty partner has finally knocked him on his ass; and she looks particularly proud of herself for doing so. Her hands reach for his belt and it’s game on again. No more verbose silent soliloquies written like odes unto her beauty. At least not for the moment.

With his belt gone she makes quick work of the button and zip of his jeans; extricates herself from him, much to his dismay, but it’s only in necessity to remove the garment, and drop it in a muffled denim thump onto the carpet. Her leggings are next to go; her hips wiggling side to side as she works the snug fabric down her toned, peaches and cream colored legs. He sits up swiftly before she can deal with the rest herself — he wants this privilege; wants it burned inside his very eyelids, so on every blink he gets the split-second reminder, of just what it was like to strip Dana Scully of the last of her underthings.

He sits at the edge of the bed with her fixed between his legs. He kisses the curve of her waist, drags his mouth along the path to her hip, takes her waistband into his teeth and softly snaps it against her. She laughs again, softly; and tangles a hand back into his hair. She indulges his monumental levels of patience even while she has no such monuments of her own. When he finally raises his hands to grasp and pull the fabric down her legs she lets out a sigh; something between relief and a dash of apprehension. There’s no going back now.

He kisses along her sternum but his eyes are decidedly skywards. But this time he’s not looking to the sky for intangible spacecraft hovering above — he’s looking to her. He holds her in place with the weight of his gaze alone. It says to her that this is about you, us; not just him or what lies between her legs. She dips down just enough to kiss him, with the softest kiss they’ve yet to share. The impossible pillow of her lips accepts his own in a cradle akin only to a cloud. He is truly discovering unidentified objects here; flying along with her to light the way.

Her lack of patience has finally begun to catch up with her; and she tugs at the top of his boxers, the turgid, solid length of him breaking free. His shorts have barely reached his calves before her hand has grasped the fullness of him; taking up a slow, rhythmic manipulation of flesh that leaves him burdened with a desperate sort of longing to surge up into the vise of her grip.

“Scully—” His hands take up a similar vise grip of her waist; the rest of his sentiment conveyed only through the fervor in his eyes. Now it’s her turn to put him out of his misery — when she’s in his lap again and the heat of her is engulfing him inch by solid inch. His lips find her breast as she adjusts atop him; accepts him all the more than she’s already done. Her fingers clutch at his shoulders as she works her way down, back up and down again; each time taking more until he’s buried totally inside her and never wants to come back out.

He kisses her again and swallows up her humming; the soft sounds she’s begun making as she sets out a rhythm with him. His hands hoist her gently by the hips to aid in her cadence, and pull her back down in parallel motion; sinking deeply into her waiting warmth and besetting a quiver into her pliable construction. Her rhythm starts to falter even with his helping hands, strength waning as pleasure takes a stronger hold.

“Mulder...” her bliss-racked voice beseeches him; so he rolls and moves them back up the bed, lets her take residence up below him once again, drives his hips into hers like before but this time the connection is palpable — sweaty and authentic, and he’s in rapture all the more. He looks on in fascination at his length disappearing into her — sees the flush creep back in all over now; a full body blushing and he just has to see her face. She’s grown pinker and more wanton since he’s switched their positions, enjoying her view of his form just as he is hers. They share a lust-addled smile before he’s on her again; kissing her hungrily as his hips roll and smack into hers in a delicious dizzying stroke, touching places within her that make her break the kiss to moan and wriggle before just as desperately returning to his lips for just a bit more.

His hands engulf her breasts again; thumbs thoroughly titillating her pert nipples until she’s using any leverage she has to thrust her hips downwards to meet his halfway — anything to tear more pleasure from their joining. Her sounds have been reduced to mere whimpers now; hands clutching desperately for a hold, something to keep her on the precipice, anything to feel like this just a little longer. He stops the overstimulation he’d committed to her breasts, instead focusing on a caress of her hips, her waist, the middle of her chest and even up to her throat. Whatever he can do to extend her pleasure, he’ll do it. He changes the angle of his hips slightly and she all but yelps. “Right there, Mulder—God.” His thrusts steadily hit her in just that spot and she’s quivering again — teeth chattering, nails digging in to his flesh, her voice growing higher and more desperate than he’s ever heard her. His own pleasure is fast surfacing; a wave ready to break on the rocks at any moment, barely holding back but using all his remaining strength to do so.

The inevitable is approaching; fast, and faster still. He knows she’s close but still needs something — that final push into oblivion, and he finds it with his thumb. He smooths the pad of it along her apex, unearths the diamond of nerves at her medial and rubs circles against it until she’s convulsing internally; spasming around him in the most beautiful fashion, and then he’s spilling over too — cresting white waves against the beach, her name on his lips like she were a prayer. And God, for him. She is.

#x files #msr #dana scully #fox mulder #txf fanfic #2019XFValentine #my writing #xfw #mine

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